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wandagcre · 5 months

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push it for the pleasure | wanda maximoff 🔞

(College!Perv!Bestfriend Wanda Maximoff x Innocent!Fem Reader)

Wanda’s perverted thirst gets the best of her. You were irresistible and simply for her taking. And what does she do? She doesn’t resist. Instead, Wanda feeds the gnawing, filthy, and hungry monster inside of her by having her way with you even while you’re unconscious.

WARNING: heavy dubcon/noncon themes, fingering, perverted actions such as implied stealing undies, staring, touching and taking nonconsensual nudes, daddy kink (W), corruption kink, somnophilia | 18+ men & minors dni. Words: 3.6k Note: part of the perv!wanda series. you can consider it as a backstory that happened before this oneshot ;)

[perv!wanda series] | [masterlist]

Wanda had an affinity for your tedious nature. Whether it comes down to your personal interests or university workload; not solely rooted by your clear determination written in your adorable face that she admires, but rather, how it leaves you exhausted to your very bones. Tired meant the manifestations of neglect — one that left you comfortable on your bed as the aftermath.

You were so lucky to have her, not only Wanda has slid a bottle of water or a snack on your side, but on a good day with a less constricting schedule of hers, she's got the privilege of pressing firm around the strained muscles of your shoulder — feeling you succumb into the comfort and her ears being rewarded of your soft moans.

A purr escaped your mouth. "That feels so good Wands..." Your body slumped in a relaxed state.

Wanda bit her lip at the innocent play of your words. "Anything for you, dorogaya. Do you want me to press harder?"

"Ah... yes, if- if it's alright with you," came a meek response out of your lips.

Wanda knew the effect of her native language on you. She couldn't help but lightly pinch your burning cheeks.

As Wanda kneaded the kinks out of your tired muscles, she couldn't help but thirst for more. The tendency of her insatiable want when it comes to you only grows impossibly bigger every day. Whether it was her dying need to touch you or your attention fixated on her - Wanda needs it all.

"It would be better if you took off your shirt. It’s more direct and effective," She murmured at the shell of your ear. Excitement coursed through Wanda's body as you squirmed in your seat.

You turn your head to the side in question. "Wouldn't that be too much of your time?"

"Nonsense. I love doing this for you."

Wanda wolfishly grinned as she saw you eventually nod in agreement.

Oh, you were so pliant and ready for her.

Your bestfriend had to stop her scandalous thoughts of wanting to bite and mark your back as you undressed your top in front of her. She admires the view of your back and its dimples, her mouth-watering and well-awareness of how soft they were. Wanda didn't waste any time on touching you — the breathy innocent moans and soft tilts of your head as you succumbed to her touch whenever Wanda hit a satisfying spot made her mind go haywire. Her thumb applying pressure over the bottom of your trapezius; just where your nape rests upon particularly was a sweet spot.

You looked lost; wrapped in complete bliss.

"Can I touch you whenever?"

"Like this?"

"Yes," Wanda doesn't miss a beat. It was risky and ambiguous, and so she adds, "I love your skin and how soft it is under my touch. It’s so… comforting.”

She decides to take more than she should've and ran her hand across the expanse of your back to caress — how you shivered was hard to go amiss for the woman.

You know nothing can go wrong especially when it's Wanda. She's the best at attending to your needs, a thought that mildly scared you of how attuned she was, but you knew it was always rooted in benevolence and affection.

Therefore, you couldn't help but recall how come this woman stuck out negatively to other people — having alleged issues of her temperament combined with her altruistic nature. They felt nothing more than a made-up childish rumor in the playground to you as to how Wanda easily conversed with you on that first week when you'd approached her brazenly.

Wanda had figured it out not so long ago; how the double-edged sword trait of yours was how you always believed to see the goodness in the people first. It was a debatable display of strength and flaw.

Besides, you liked having her attention for some reason. Wanda's perfect smile was often so reassuring for you, effortlessly putting you at ease.

"Okay, Wands." was your good-humored reply. Your bestfriend couldn't help but press her lips against the top of your head. You smelled wonderful. Wanda really couldn’t get enough of you.

Your unwavering blind faith-filled Wanda with so much pride.

The cherry on top of it all was how Wanda has taken care of your pretty princess parts; one between your legs and the occasional massages on your breasts.

It was so easy.

Wanda thrived on seeing your beautiful irises filled with innocence and gleam as you met her mischievous emerald ones. You've given her the opportunity of a lifetime and she intends to relish every given chance that she can get. It took her baby steps to get here – once she figured out where your affection levels lay, she initiated simple touches – whether it was a hug, tugging you close to her proximity, or now her intentions that stood morally corrupt; Wanda will find a way to accidentally brush against your private parts.

While you lay on one of her arms, Wanda gently ran her fingers through your soft cheeks as you faced her. She soaked in the sweet smell of your shampoo and the distinguishable scent of yours that Wanda could not get enough of. You looked angelic and waiting to be cherished. Soon enough, Wanda seeks for another type of comfort; her hands descending underneath your shirt, tiptoeing almost, with an unstoppable grin on her face — two fingers pushing under the band of your bra.

"Daddy's here. She'll always be here for you. I'm going to take care of you, dorogaya." Wanda whispered voice lilted with pure desire before her naughty hand came to cup one of your breasts. The recessed night glow that came from your dorm’s window was the only source of light, her actions being done in the darkness amplified the thrill in Wanda’s actions.

A suppressed moan came out of her lips. God, you were so fucking full — supple and fitted perfectly to her palm. One squeeze was followed by a dozen more that inevitably led to pinching and enclosed her fingers from your areola to your now perked tip.

"All for Daddy..."

Her thumb came to play for more, in circular motions around your nipple. Your breathing pattern was nuanced although still haven't shown clear evidence of you waking up anytime soon. Wanda rolled the sleeves of her sweatshirt, knowing she had a whole night ahead of her.

Eventually, it wasn't enough. She needed more.

And so Wanda will make sure to get more.

Careful not to wake you, she pulls out her arm that served as your pillow from earlier. You now lay on your back, still unphased, Wanda raised the hem of your shirt to reveal your indoor bra. Her eyes darkened at how pure and dainty you were presented in front of her, your blemishes and moles make up a beautiful constellation in Wanda's eyes.

Because of this, she's somewhat still in disbelief at your admission that no one has taken you yet.

But fret not, Wanda thought, because she's here and she's certain that you won't need anyone else other than her anytime soon.

"Daddy's going to play with you dorogaya, trust that it will be so much fun."

Wanda carefully rolls and pushes up your bra and now reveals your delectable breasts, cushiony and hanging free. This simply calls for another photoshoot.

She quickly retrieved the Polaroid camera that was atop your nightstand, just beside her rings. She's always brought it for a good reason.

Wanda had three subjects; one was nature and the other was you and no one else. What can she say? you've got her wrapped on your finger as much as she does over you. Her last subject was more risqué and controversial, it was still you — although it was a special one — meant for Wanda's eyes alone.

Wanda had placed her lips on your buttery soft breasts and wet them as she suctioned, her tongue coming into play to swirl them around. Her open-mouthed sucks and kisses filled your skin with red and purple marks. Wanda almost had a heart attack at the hoarse, high-pitched timber, a little trait of yours that you randomly let out before you sleepily stretched your limbs.

You were so cute.

"Dorogaya? Dorogaya..." Wanda hummed in a sing-song, checking if you were still unconscious.

Once sure that you're in deep sleep again, Wanda doesn't waste a moment to point her camera at your goodies — another one of the latest artworks she had done over you.

Soon as Wanda wrapped up and brought your bra and shirt in its unrattled state, here she was — pensive and debating whether she should ruin your pussy next.

Her greed over you took over with ease. Quickly, Wanda gathers her cascading hair in her hand and ties it up. She masterfully tugged down your shorts and as it reached your ankle, threw it away somewhere in your room. You even wore the red socks she gave you years ago! Wanda swooned at the cute sight. She caressed gently the expanse of your smooth legs where childhood scars and a few more moles came into better view.

You weren't wet just yet, of course. Wanda immediately wanted to change that and feel the heat you've been hiding away from her — to feel you around her fingers.

"You're so ready for Daddy, dorogaya. You don't know how much I want to eat you right now... to get a taste directly from its source, my tongue against your pretty and puffy pussy," Wanda knew you couldn't hear her, but it doesn't stop the wanton monologues of her feverish desires over you. "You're just for Daddy, aren't you?" She ran her fingers sultrily across your lower tummy, down to your pelvis.

It simply made her journey worthwhile. She somewhat wanted to communicate how fuckable your virgin self was for her. It was no longer the case as crossed this bridge a few months ago, but her filthy soul relished in corrupting you — with Wanda in complete control and taking you.

Luckily for Wanda, you've raised one of your legs — caught in a folded position, enough for her to pry you open.

Setting your ribbon-designed undies aside, Wanda’s mouth watered at your inner walls coming into view that she could not help herself and immediately inserted two fingers inside of your velvety walls.

"Fuck, you're so warm for Daddy!" Wanda rasps out, her body burning. As though in a cue in response, you huskily moaned in your sleep as well. "You love this, don't you? This won't take long, don't worry, dorogaya..."

Your bed rocked and creaked slowly, as Wanda fucked you asleep. The wetness came pouring and coated her until she was knuckle-deep in you. She stretched your now sopping hole, and the breathy moans tumbled out of your pretty lips now and then.

How you did not wake up yet was a miraculous thing for her.

Before Wanda gets carried away in roughly fingering you enough to rouse you out of your consciousness, she pumps and curls her fingers inside of you once more before reaching for her camera. She spreads your inner thighs apart — the viscous wetness that she loved to see was there. The repeated clicks reverberated and the white flashes of her camera came in the knowing four walls of your dorm.

She even inspects your wetness, rubbing and playing with them with her pinched forefinger and thumb.

A wicked smile breaks out of her in glee and satisfaction as Wanda admires for a moment the mess she has made; successful once again as she looks at the polaroid photos she recently took of you.

She pressed a soft kiss on your temple. "You did so well for Daddy."

Almost half an hour later, you wake up confused. You were wet — your cheeks burned. This was becoming a frequent occurrence and you were too old to pee in the bed. You're more than sure that your bladder was well-adjusted. But was there anything else that was wrong with you down there? You tightly crossed your legs.

Wanda appeared from your bathroom. Right, she stayed the night. She was beautiful even if the constant turning in bed had ruffled her appearance. Although, there were much more pressing matters — this is nothing but humiliating for you, surely this spot did not go amiss for your best friend...

"What’s the matter?" Wanda approaches your side.

You were hesitant, quick to try pushing her away. "Don't come close! I'm wet... I don't know how it happened. Goodness, I know for a fact I didn’t pee myself. Or did I?"

"You did not, dorogaya. Dummy, it was my fault." Wanda gave out a hearty chuckle at your immovable confusion.

"How was it your fault?"

"I spilled my drink on the bed," Wanda played with your hair and you immediately folded. You were so easy to please. "I was just about to wake you so you can change your shorts and underwear."

You let out another relieved sigh. You were happy to know that it wasn’t your bladder acting up.

"Oh, that kinda explains it. But I think it wasn't your drink that caused this the other nights…”

“Other nights?” Wanda echoed in feigned confusion.

“I-I often find myself wet down there," You confided to Wanda who nodded attentively.

Like a lightbulb moment, Wanda seemed to understand. "It's normal. Our vagina does it by nature, as a way of cleaning itself. It's called a discharge, dorogaya."

As you digest Wanda’s words, confidently assuring you, you take one of her hands and lace it with yours — giving it a comforting squeeze.

"I don't know what I would do without you, Wands. All this time I thought something was wrong with me." You nervously chuckled, beyond glad that the case was sorted out.

"That's why I'll always be here for you." Wanda shoots you a pearly smile. She tilted her head, "Now, why don't you change your clothes?" She brought her other hand that carried your clean panties and shorts.

Though you were grateful, embarrassment filled you again as you took it from Wanda with your head down and moved away from to bed to start changing.

Wanda sat quietly at your bed and peered curiously over your timid movements. Unbeknownst to you, she was waiting for whether you'd instruct her to look away as you strip down your ruined shorts and undies. She orchestrated the whole thing after her secret session with you, after all.

"C-Can you look away for a bit, Wands?" You requested, but your timid voice cracked in the process.

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "We have the same parts, dorogaya. Besides, I also change in front of you – why does it matter?" She counters and you can't rebut anything else because it is the truth. "I won't judge you. I'm just... impatient to cuddle with you again."

There isn't harm in it, you suppose. Wanda has always been there for you and has proven herself worthy of your trust. So, you affectionately smile at Wanda's needy self.

Your whole back view almost faced your bestfriend, much to her delight — only that her jaw slacked as she got a brief glimpse of your bare ass. Wanda was certain that it was buttery soft just as your hypnotizing breasts were.

You saw the clear, gooey, and viscous substance that left a mark in the center of your underwear. Your face curled up in a slight grimace. Even if you knew better about it now — all thanks to Wanda — it was somehow still icky for you to look at.

Wanda hands the clean replacements and before you can tug up your new shorts, she pulls you in her direction unexpectedly and brash to your liking.

"Wands– what?" Wanda didn't speak, touched you gently as though you were going to break. Her hand remained on your hips.

"Hush now, dorogaya. I need to check something." Her tone sounded serious so you let her. Although it felt too intimate, blood immediately came rushing to your ears and cheeks. "I think you need to replace some of them..."

You try to protest out of timidness, "But—"

"Let me inspect you first. Promise I'll be gentle. It won't be weird," Wanda gave you a condescending smile and you easily caved in.

You feel Wanda everywhere in your body. Her touch was electric on your lower back, the other was too close to your private parts — all wandering. Wanda's fingers came to trace underneath the garter of your underwear. From your pelvis to your innermost thighs, you almost closed your legs shut in reflex.

The air felt ambiguously thick.

Her hands continue to roam around the material — excruciatingly, it was underneath your buttcheek and the pubis area especially, where Wanda’s hands gravitate and wander back onto — doing motions as though smoothening it out.

You let out a sharp inhale and your stomach twitches each time in sync.

"This shouldn't be too hard and tight for you. Not only does it leave marks, but it's uncomfortable, isn't it? The material also is too thin. It's bound to tear off soon." Wanda lists out and all you can think is holy shit, she's right. You weren't confident with your picks when you shopped for them, in all honesty.

"Yeah. I wasn't sure what to pick..." You admit with your eyes looking at your sock-covered feet and your hands clasped in shame.

Besides, you somehow keep on misplacing them. You were baffled by now because you were getting understocked with the amount of undies you had. Where have they all gone?

"Tell you what," Wanda calmly calls your attention and tilts your head up with her hand, "I'd take you to shop some and help you throughout the process so I can teach you too. Don't worry, it's all my treat dorogaya."

Your eyes beamed. You need as much help as you can. "You'll do that for me? But... isn't it too much? I can’t ask that of you.”

"I don't mind, it's not like we do it often. I’m personally offering." Wanda shrugged. She had a point. You'll stop her the next time she insists... maybe in return, you'll do something nice for her.

Sneakily, one of her hands that rested on your lower back descended to your ass cheeks and came in contact to slap them. You sharply gasped and flinched upon the sudden contact, giving Wanda an unamused look. You hoped that she wouldn't detect the fluster in your appearance underneath it.

You didn't understand how it was somewhat satisfying for you. It was a mere play, an act that was nothing more but to tease you — but it felt good against your ass.

You whisper-yelled, calling out her outrageous act.

"Wanda!"

She sports a mischievous smile, her perfect teeth biting down her lower lip. Wanda shook her head and finally raised her hands in defeat.

"Come on! I thrive on riling you up. It's essentially my duty. Now come back and get comfy here in bed. You deserve more sleep. I'll take care of these," She points to the clothes you stripped out of. "And no complaints. I don't mind, I've seen all of you now dorogaya."

"You will be the death of me."

"I love you too," She teasingly replied before disappearing into your view and the words of your best friend made your heart jump.

You groaned in the soft pillow in surrender although it was too much for you — you knew that Wanda's intentions were coming from a good place. She's nothing but thoughtful to you. Soon, the harmony of cold and warmth of your sheets and duvet became too comfortable. You have proven Wanda right and easily succumbed to sleep once again.

Meanwhile, Wanda gathers the polaroid photos she took just a few minutes ago. She closes the door and threw your shorts to the hamper. But your pretty and soaked underwear? It's coming with her.

With the still-damp material of your undies, Wanda strips out her bottoms and sat to the closed toilet seat. She places the fabric over her now exposed pussy; not wasting any time rubbing it against her wet cunt, starting slow, and even thrusting it inside to stimulate and tease her filthy fantasies of you even more.

God, here she was, touching herself at the thought of you and the photos she had taken of your pretty princess parts.

Wanda took a good look at it; albeit with much effort as her eyes were threatening to shut at the sensation. It was easy to recall her indecent touches — the feeling of your folds ridiculously soft and unearthly, stretching your labia so she can insert her fingers inside of your opening and how it sucked her in slowly — fuck, you were so tight!

These thoughts spurred Wanda to rub herself with harder pressure and dared to tug and play with her clit — all while covered with your soaked undies. It was somewhat rough against the vulnerable lines and ridges of her labia and provided the undeniably irresistible friction that she craved, doing it repeatedly until Wanda stretched herself out.

It was your cum coating her own pulsating and clenching pussy. She can't help but moan at the thought as she touches herself inside these four, cold walls. How Wanda can only wish instead of her fingers, it was your dainty ones. Even better, you're on your knees for her... eyes wide, expectant, and obedient to her orders. You always looked at her in a certain way that made her stomach flip in adoration and glee. In her filthiest imaginations, Wanda is calling the shots, ordering you to go flatten up your tongue like a good girl and to lap her faster—!

Wanda finally cums hard, a guttural low moan tumbling out of her lips.

Fuck, she got so wet that it seeped out, the woman was sitting in her mess. Gripping and glancing at the jerking-off materials, she couldn't be more proud of herself today.

Another for her beloved and favorite collection — all thanks to you.

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

#gg.writes #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x fem reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagines #wlw #lesbian #perv!wanda #requested

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fetusgooseandjuice · 4 months

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Trust Me

Pairing(s): Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You haven’t been able to sleep in a couple weeks, and Natasha knows just the way to get you to close your eyes.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None? (If anyone finds any feel free to message me!)

Author’s Note: Heyy guys! I know I haven’t posted a fic in like 6 months, but I got writers block and it just never really went away. I’m not sure when I’ll post again, but I’ve had the idea for this fic for a while and I finally got the motivation to write it. It might not be that good but I hope you enjoy it at least a little! Think of it as a little Christmas gift :)

Author’s Note Pt. 2: Also, this is not proofread because I just wanted to get it posted so there might be some spelling and grammar errors!

You heavily sighed once again for probably the fifth time in the past five minutes. It’s been a few hours since you and Natasha had called it a night, and yet here you were at nearly three in the morning still lying wide awake.

Although it’s not as if you were surprised or expecting anything else. You’d been having trouble falling asleep since the first night you and Natasha arrived in Norway.

Despite not having gotten many hours of sleep lately, for some reason you still weren’t tired and still could not fall asleep.

When your girlfriend came to you a week and a half ago and told you she had no other choice but to leave the states in order to evade the government after the whole incident between Tony and Steve, you instantly decided you’d be going with her without a second thought and left no room for her to disagree.

After all she should’ve known you’d follow her anywhere, but you guess it’s taken a toll on you.

You wanted to sleep, and yet you weren’t sure what was keeping you up. Maybe you were worried about something happening to Natasha?

‘What if she gets caught? Or what if we both somehow get hurt?’ you thought.

But you knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself and keeping you safe at the same time.

Even with the amount of times you told yourself not to worry, your mind wouldn’t listen.

You eventually sighed and turned your head to look at the redhead behind you. Her arms were wrapped tightly around you and no matter how much she shifted throughout the night, she never let you go.

The mere thought of that would be enough to bring a smile to your face if you weren’t so frustrated with yourself.

Deciding you’d had enough of laying there awake, you carefully unraveled your girlfriend’s arms from around you and slid out of bed.

You almost shivered at the cool temperature of the trailer as your bare feet touched the floor and you made your way into the kitchen.

The random plastic bags on the counter rustled as you rummaged through them in search of something to snack on, finally coming across a bottle of water and a pack of chips you’d never heard of.

As you went to open the cap of the bottle, a pair of arms slipping around your waist startled you. The yelp you let out made the person behind you chuckle, and you relaxed recognizing the sound.

“Sorry, malysh (baby).” Natasha said and you turned to look at her to see the apologetic look she had on her face.

You gave her a slight smile before shaking your head, “It’s okay. But what’re you doing up right now, Nat? You should be asleep, you need to rest.”

She dipped her head down to press multiple kisses to the skin of your neck, “I could ask you the same question because so do you.”

You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to leave the warmth of your shared bed without her noticing.

“I just couldn’t sleep.” you said, making her eyebrows furrow as you opened your water bottle and took a sip. “But I know you’re still tired so you should go back to bed, I’ll be there soon.”

“No, not without you.” Natasha was quick to disagree, “What’s going on, dorogaya (darlin)? You were yawning quite a bit before we went to bed. Why can’t you sleep?” she rested her chin on your shoulder, ready to listen to what you had to say.

You sighed realizing that you were going to have to have this conversation now. Your shoulders shrugged, “I don’t know.” was all you offered.

Natasha stayed quiet, giving you the floor for when you were ready to add on. A moment later, you did.

“I haven’t really gotten any decent sleep recently, so I’m not sure why I can’t fall asleep or why I’m not tired.”

Your girlfriend pecked your shoulder blade, acknowledging that she heard you.

“How long has this been going on for?” she asked.

For a second you went quiet, not exactly wanting to answer when you remembered that now that she knew, she wasn’t going to let it go until she made it better.

“Since we left the states.” you admitted.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Once again, you shrugged your shoulders, “I didn’t want to worry you.” you said. “You already have a lot on your plate with this whole situation and I didn’t want to add more to it.”

You heard Natasha sigh and now you appreciated that fact that you weren’t standing face to face at the moment.

“I guess I’m thinking too much.” you added. “At night I finally get the time to actually think about stuff, and I worry about you and if you’re going to be okay.”

Natasha was also glad you weren’t standing face to face right now because if you were, you would’ve seen the way her lips pulled into a smile.

“Well if you’re going to worry about me then I think I have every right to worry about you.” she chuckled and you fought back a smile at it.

“I’m sorry.” you said.

She didn’t say anything for a few moments until you heard her soft voice with that hint of rasp speak up.

“Look at me, krasivyy (beautiful).”

You craned your neck to see green eyes which were filled to the brim with love and tenderness staring at you, the singular warm light above the kitchen sink allowing her to see your sad ones.

The frustration that’d been building up in you beginning to melt away ever so slightly.

“I want you to talk to me about what you’re going through.” Natasha spoke. “I don’t care about what you think I might have going on, you’re always my first priority, okay?”

You nodded as she raised a hand to caress your cheek, brushing a hair behind your ear in the process.

“I love you too much to have you worrying that pretty little head of yours all alone when I’m always right here for you.” she pressed her lips to your temple to emphasize her point. “So promise me next time you’ll tell me if somethings wrong?”

“I promise, and I love you too, Nat.”

“Good,” Natasha smiled and leaned in to connect your lips in a loving kiss, pulling away shortly after and leaning her forehead against yours. “I’m going to be okay, so there’s no need to worry. We’re both gonna be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. You knew Natasha would make sure of that.

“Alright, do you think you’re ready to head back to bed?”

You weren’t sure how to answer that. Even though you were relieved Natasha knew now and you talked about it, you still weren’t even close to being able to go to sleep.

“No,” you spoke quietly. “I’m still not really tired, and I honestly don’t know if I will be until this all blows over.”

Natasha went silent for a few moments, thinking. She turned you around to face her and moved your arms to wrap around her shoulders.

“Nat, what are you—”

“Shhh,” she interrupted your sentence, “Just trust me.”

So you did.

Her arms snaked back around your waist and pulled you into her. You weren’t exactly sure what she was doing until she began swaying with you from one side to the other.

You’d danced together before, but at Tony’s many parties. Not when you were trying to make yourself fall asleep.

“Nat, I don’t think—”

“You’re supposed to be trusting me. Do you not?”

“I do, but—”

“So shhh,” she said and you couldn’t help the little giggle you let out. “You said you were thinking too much, right?”

“Yeah.” you confirmed.

“So just relax and let me do all the thinking. I don’t want you to worry about anything except trusting me.”

“Okay.” you whispered, giving in and resting your cheek on her shoulder, allowing her to move you.

A few seconds later Natasha began humming. It wasn’t a song that you knew, but you recognized it as one of the many Russian lullabies she’s hummed and sometimes sang to you before.

The way she hummed them always made you feel relaxed and peace, and this time was no different. Because soon you started to lean into her more as you became more and more weary.

Your heavy eyelids fell shut and your head found security in her neck as you cuddled closer to it, happily letting her comforting scent soothe you.

After a couple of songs, Natasha finally looked at you to find you pretty much sound asleep.

She grinned to herself and pecked your head before lifting you into her arms, making her way back to your bedroom.

“Told you to trust me.”

~ end ~

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff mcu #natasha fanfic #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha x you #natasha x y/n #natasha alianovna romanova

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huggingkoalas · 5 days

Text

is this hatred? or love? part 1

pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader

synopsis what happens when you have to share a bed with your enemy?

word count 2.9k

warnings fluff, teasing, gunshot wound, reader’s injured, pet names (sweetheart, love), one bed trope, enemies to lovers, they’re both so in denial it makes me want to bang my head against the wall

author’s note haven’t had the time to write in a long time. i honestly had a lot of fun writing this, natasha being the most annoying fucking tease is the biggest headcannon to me <3

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“Need a hand, dorogaya (sweetheart)?”

“Shut up, Romanoff.”

“If you say so.”

With your dominant hand pressed firmly against your wounded abdomen to stem the bleeding, your other hand trembled as it swiped the card through the reader. Natasha leaned her back casually against the adjacent wall, her boredom thinly veiled by a feigned yawn as the reader emitted its third ‘beep’ of rejection due to your insufficient force.

“We’ll be here all day. Aren’t you supposed to have super soldier serum in your blood?”

“I said shut up.”

With an exasperated scoff, Natasha snatched the card out of your hand. She forcefully swiped it through the reader, the satisfying click of the door unlocking echoing in the corridor. As the door swung open to reveal the dimly lit motel room, Natasha couldn’t help but grin smugly.

“See? Easy as pie.”

You grunted in response, carefully adjusting your stance to maintain pressure on your wound. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, love.” She replied breezily.

With a nod of appreciation, you stepped through the doorway, a wave of relief washing over you, although the throbbing pain in your abdomen dampened it. Natasha followed suit, closing the door behind her and locking it. She walked past you, her demeanour shifting subtly from teasing to attentive as she scanned the room. Once she familiarised herself with the layout and window exits, she turned back to you, nodding her head to give you the all-clear.

The room looked ordinary like any other hostel room, with neutral-toned walls and simple furnishings. A small table sat in one corner, adorned with a lamp and a few scattered brochures. Across the room, a worn-out armchair stood next to a narrow window, its curtains drawn shut to block the dim city lights. On the opposite wall, a modest dresser provided limited storage space, its drawers slightly ajar. Despite its lack of luxury, the room emanated a sense of comfort. As you looked around the unremarkable surroundings, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of gratitude for the simple shelter it provided.

While you were busy surveying the room, Natasha’s attention was on your injured abdomen, a subtle flash of concern in her eyes. The sight of the fresh blood staining your shirt in the brief moments it took to open the door tugged at her heartstrings, even if she would never admit it to you.

“How bad is the wound?” She inquired, pointing a finger towards your abdomen.

You glanced down, noting the slight redness seeping through the fabric and onto your shirt. “Well, I wouldn’t have this wound if someone realised that a HYDRA agent was aiming at them.” You retorted.

Natasha smirked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Hey, it’s not my fault they can’t resist taking a shot at me, I’m irresistible.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle despite the ache in your side. “Irresistible, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

“Of course.” She shrugged casually, giving you a knowing look. “I honestly think we both attract trouble wherever we go. It's probably the only reason Fury paired the two of the biggest troublemakers on this mission, right? He’s probably having the best day of his life without having to deal with us constantly being at each other’s throats.”

You smirked, acknowledging the truth in her words. “Seems like Fury knows what he’s doing after all.”

“Well, I’d like to think he’s getting some entertainment out of it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Entertainment? More like a headache.”

Her smirk softened into a faint smile as she shook her head. “Just because you saved me doesn’t mean that I don’t hate you still.”

“Likewise, Romanoff. Just because we’re being all buddy-buddy right now doesn’t mean I suddenly like you.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. “Good. Wouldn’t want things to get too sentimental, partner.”

You knew that the word ‘partner’ was dripping with teasing and sarcasm. The two of you were anything but cooperative with each other. You both frequently exchanged biting remarks, teasing, and insults. You couldn’t help but wonder what you had done to make her despise you so much. You were nice to her when you joined the Avengers all those years ago, but it always seemed that she harboured a deep dislike for you. When you spoke up in a team meeting, she would scowl and you could always feel her gaze burning a hole in your skull.

In the beginning, you tried to get along with her and be as friendly to her as you were to everyone else. From offering her assistance during training or helping her with her mission reports, nothing you did ever seemed to break the coldness and distance in her heart. You knew she wasn’t the most extroverted person, but you never saw her act that way towards others. Eventually, you gave up and decided it was best to ignore her, just as she had ignored you.

Of course, once you started ignoring her too, Natasha’s behaviour changed. She started teasing and taunting you, finding ways to provoke a reaction from you even when you tried to ignore her. And she kept winning. Her incessant teasing had a way of getting under your skin. It was a frustrating cycle of provocation and reaction. You felt like you were constantly on edge whenever she was around.

But reluctantly, you couldn’t deny that everything had changed during the mission an hour ago. Despite the heated tensions, you both had an unspoken agreement to watch each other’s backs in battle.

As the weight of the moment settled on you, Natasha’s gaze softened, and her concern for your well-being was evident in the depths of her eyes. “But seriously,” she said, her tone changing to genuine concern, “let me help you tend to that wound before it gets infected.”

You shook your head slightly. “It’s okay, I can take care of it myself.”

Her expression tightened slightly, her concern unwavering. “Stubborn as always,” she muttered under her breath.

You met her gaze with a steely resolve. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve handled worse.”

Her lips formed a thin line, showing her frustration. "Think of it as a way of repaying you for helping me.” She insisted, her voice firm.

You knew she wouldn’t give the matter up. The both of you were equally as stubborn as a mule. “Fine.” You relented, offering a nod.

“Great,” Natasha replied, a hint of relief in her tone. “To the bathroom then. I’m sure this motel room has a first aid kit somewhere…”

You and Natasha made your way to the bathroom, her footsteps echoing yours. Silently, you took a seat on the edge of the closed toilet seat. You leaned back against the toilet’s tank, the cool porcelain surface offering a brief respite from the tension in your muscles. She wasted no time in retrieving the first aid kit from the mirror cabinet and moving towards you.

“Take off your shirt,” She instructed, settling the first aid kit on the tiled floor.

Your brows furrowed in surprise at her directive. “W-What?” You stammered, looking down at her with an incredulous look.

Natasha rolled her eyes at your surprise, her patience wearing thin. “Come on, don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be,” she chided, her tone tinged with exasperation. “I can’t clean your wound if you have your shirt on.”

Reluctantly, you began to peel off your shirt cautiously. Each inch revealed the angry red gunshot wound beneath, eliciting a whine as the fabric grazed against your wound. At least you were lucky that the bullet passed through instead of staying inside your body. As more of your skin came into view, Natasha’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. A blush crept onto her cheeks, betraying her normally composed demeanour. Despite her best efforts to maintain her composure, the sight of your exposed skin stirred something within her, igniting a warmth that she couldn’t quite suppress. Quickly, she averted her gaze, busying herself with preparing the first aid supplies. Though she tried to hide it, the flush on her cheeks lingered.

As you finally removed your shirt, Natasha’s expression softened even further. “Thank you for sacrificing yourself for me. It was incredibly stupid, though.” She murmured, her voice softer now.

“It’s alright, Romanoff.”

“You can call me Natasha, you know. You’re the only one in the team that still calls me by my last name.”

“Alright, Natasha.” Your lips twitched into a small, appreciative smile.

In a comfortable silence, Natasha began to carefully clean the wound with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol, her touch gentle yet precise. The warmth of her fingertips against your skin sent a shiver down your spine. As she worked, you couldn’t help but steal glances at her, admiring the focused expression on her face.

Natasha’s brows furrowed as she delicately dabbed at the wound, her lips forming a thin line. Now and then, she would scrunch her nose up, a small, endearing gesture that softened her usual stoic expression. Despite the pain, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sight of her.

Once the wound was cleaned and dressed, her gaze met yours with a sense of satisfaction. “There,” she said softly, relief in her voice. “All done.”

You offered her a grateful smile, “Thank you.”

A small, genuine smile curved Natasha’s lips as she met your gaze. “Anytime, dorogaya (sweetheart).”

As she rose to her feet, a blush crept onto your cheeks. You were well-acquainted with Natasha’s tendency to use nicknames on you, especially ‘dorogaya’, but it was typically wielded with a teasing edge. This time, however, it wasn’t accompanied by the usual teasing tone. Instead, it carried a genuine warmth that caught you off guard.

“Uh…” You stammered, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest at the unexpectedly sincere endearment. Clearing your throat, you tried to push aside the fluttering in your chest.

Her smile widened at your reaction. “Nervous, are we?”

“Shut up, Natasha.”

She chuckled softly at your retort, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she teased, her tone light and playful.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips despite the warmth still lingering in your cheeks. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words.

With a shake of her head, Natasha reached down to offer you a hand. “Come on, let’s get you back on your feet,” she said.

You hesitated for a moment, touched by her gesture, before placing your hand in hers. With a steady grip, she helped you to your feet. She moved to the doorway before looking at you over her shoulder. “I’ll let you shower first. Try not to get water on the dressing.”

“Got it.”

With a final nod of acknowledgement, Natasha closed the door behind her, leaving you alone in the quiet of the bathroom. Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you slipped off the rest of your clothes and placed them in a pile with your soiled shirt. A sense of relief washed over you at the prospect of washing away the grime of the day’s events. You turned on the water, allowing the warm cascade to envelop you as you stepped beneath the stream. Despite the lingering ache in your abdomen, the sensation of the water against your skin was soothing, easing the aching tension that had settled in your muscles.

As you stood beneath the spray, you couldn’t help but reflect on the events that led to this moment. Fury had sent you and Natasha on what was supposed to be a routine mission, but as these things often went, it spiralled into chaos. The intel given was faulty, the security stronger than anticipated, and you were in over your heads before you knew it. It was a mission gone wrong, one of those rare instances where even the most meticulous planning couldn’t prevent disaster.

In the aftermath of the debacle, with your injuries sustained and the mission being held in another country, there was no choice but to seek refuge in a motel room for a night before a Quinjet could transport you back to the Avengers Compound. Fury had booked a motel room for you and Natasha, a nondescript haven tucked away from prying eyes. It was a humble accommodation, far removed from the luxuries of the Compound, but at least it provided a temporary sanctuary where you could tend to your wounds without drawing unwanted attention.

As you stood beneath the shower’s warm spray, the mission’s events were still fresh and raw as they replayed in your mind like a relentless loop. The close calls, the split-second decisions, the adrenaline-fueled rush of combat. And yet, despite the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remained constant — Natasha fighting with you side-by-side.

You couldn’t help but marvel at Natasha’s resilience. Her determination even in the face of overwhelming odds. She had saved your life more times than you could count, her skills as an assassin matched only by her unwavering loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D.

However, this time was different. During the mission, the roles had been reversed. In a moment of instinct, you had thrown yourself between Natasha and the gun aimed in her direction, putting your own life on the line to protect hers. The only reason you could think of for making a reckless decision like that was that simple — you couldn’t bear the thought of losing Natasha, even if you hated her with your whole heart. There was no hesitation as you acted on pure instinct, driven by a need to protect her.

As the warm water washed away the physical remnants of the mission, you emerged from the shower. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out of the bathroom, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as the steam-filled air gave way to the coolness of the room.

Immediately, your gaze was drawn to Natasha, who sat on the edge of the bed, her expression a mix of surprise as she took in your appearance. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves at the intensity of her gaze, prompting you to tighten the towel around yourself in a subconscious attempt to shield your modesty.

Finally, Natasha broke the silence. “Sorry for staring. I.. uh-” She faltered for a moment, her words trailing off as she cleared her throat, seemingly struggling to find the right thing to say. “We have a problem. There’s only one bed.”

Her words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for how to respond. You looked down at the singular bed Natasha was sitting on. You couldn’t help but feel a flush of embarrassment colour your cheeks. The prospect of sharing a bed with Natasha added a whole new layer of complexity to your already complicated relationship with her.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Natasha suggested, standing up.

You felt a pang of guilt wash over you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that it wouldn’t be fair for her to sacrifice her comfort for your sake.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You interjected quickly. “You take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor instead.”

Natasha crossed her arms, regarding you with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not being ridiculous. You’re the one that’s injured, you should get the bed instead.”

You shook your head. “I appreciate the concern but I really can’t let you sleep on the floor. We’re both equally exhausted from the mission and besides, you need a good night’s rest too.”

Natasha’s expression softened, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and stubbornness. “I can’t let you sleep on the floor either,” she countered, her voice firm.

You sighed, realizing that neither of you would easily back down from this standoff. “Alright, how about this,” you proposed. “We share the bed. It’s really small, so we’ll have to sleep pressed up against each other, but at least neither of us has to sleep uncomfortably.”

Natasha hesitated for a moment, considering your offer. “Are you sure?” she asked, her tone softening with concern.

“I’m sure.” You nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “Go take a shower. You smell.”

She chuckled softly at your attempt to lighten the mood. “Yes ma’am.”

As Natasha disappeared into the bathroom, you took a moment to collect your thoughts, relieved that the tension between you had dissipated, at least for now. Sharing a bed with her was certainly going to be an… interesting experience.

You reached for the bag you had dropped near the doorway and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. Quickly, you dressed yourself. As you settled into bed, you heard the door open as Natasha emerged from the bathroom. You were facing away from her as you felt the bed dip behind you when she got into bed. Feeling her presence behind you, you turned your head to offer her a small smile.

“Can I… wrap my arm around you? It’s the only way we’ll both fit in this bed.” Natasha remarked, her voice laced with a hint of embarrassment.

You chuckled softly, feeling the tension easing further as you nodded in agreement. “Sure, yeah, go ahead.”

As Natasha shifted closer, her front pressed up against your back and her arm gently encircling your waist, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach at the sudden intimacy. Despite the awkwardness, there was a surprising comfort in the warmth of her touch, and you found yourself relaxing further in her embrace.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Natasha murmured, her breath warm against your ear.

“Goodnight, Natasha.” You replied, a sense of contentment settling over you as you closed your eyes.

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#lumi’s fics!#marvel #mcu #the avengers #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #wlw #fanfic #fanfiction

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angelanderson · 1 month

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give you what you need

— w. maximoff ☆ her girl au

with only one thing that could fix your morning, both you and wanda are desperate. you know your mommy will usually give you what you want… you just have to ask.

first extra for the her girl series!!I while wanda does have mostly unmentioned powers still, it is very much an au. all fluff (this time) MINORS DNI. cw: inherently unhealthy dynamics due to the nature of this series, finger sucking, mention of (past) spanking, soft dark mommy!wanda. mostly comfort!!!! edited-ish. *not an ageplay series. reader is fully an adult and thinks like one*

tapping her freshly manicured nails on the counter, wanda watches you like a hawk as you contemplate your next move. the witch has been dreading your impending meltdown since she woke up her grumpy girl this morning. it took a promise of blueberry pancakes for breakfast for you to verbalize that your issue was a poor night’s worth of sleep. unfortunately for the older woman, pancakes didn’t bring up your mood, nor did an offering of a relaxing bubble bath, one of your favorite times things.

tears threaten to spill down your checks as you try to soothe yourself. no longer wanting to sit by wanda, you’ve found the cool kitchen tiles to be more appealing. usually, you always want your mommy, especially when you’re upset, but the sheer exhaustion you feel has you acting out. no amount of appealing offers from the woman has been enough to placid you.

wanda gives it five more minutes before she steps in again; she can’t bear to see you like this. she approaches you as if you’re some wild animal that’s afraid. “dorogaya, why don’t you come with mommy, hmm? let’s fix those tears”, her voice comes out sweet as honey.

you’ve been so stubborn all morning, but the way wanda is looking at you is making your façade slowly slip. worrying at your bottom lip, you weigh your options— you know from past experience that she is not afraid to make you give in. thirty more seconds pass before you make your way into her arms, giving into her. you can faintly here her whisper how you’re a good girl as your shove your face into her shoulder.

as wanda tries to coax you out of her shoulder, she notices that you’ve shoved some of your fingers past your lips. since the day you met, even in your previous life as equals in a relationship, she has been trying to break you of the habit. “oh dove, what has mommy said about sucking on your fingers?”

“that ‘m not supposed to,” you messily say as you continue to refuse to remove them from your mouth. ever since you could remember, which was not much now, you’ve found comfort in self-soothing by having something in your mouth.

tsking, the witch gently coaxes your fingers out of your mouth. she ignores the cry you let out— how could she be a good mommy if she wasn’t consistent with you? she doesn’t let you pitch the fit she knows is coming. “dorogaya, come upstairs now. maybe mommy will let you get cozy in her bed, hmm?” even with sweetness, her tone leaves no room for argument.

it’s rare for her to go against her usual protocols; it’s how she keeps you in check. unbeknownst to you, wanda is willing to give into what she knows you secretly want if there’s a chance it’ll change your mood. when you’re grumpy, you’re grumpy. however, the almost promise of being able to nap in wanda’s room has your brain spinning enough that you don’t argue as she leads you to the stairs. so busy reeling with excitement, you don’t hear her sighs of relief as you two walk up together.

wanting to show your mommy that you can be her good girl again, you wait by her bedroom door, albeit antsy as you wait for her to catch up. you have quickly learned to mind not entering her bedroom or study without explicit permission. it only took two spankings that ended in loud cries to cement the rule in your brain. wanda clearly notices your commitment to her rules as she reaches the top. proudness fills her chest as she realizes how far you’ve both come from the start of this new life.

the soft smile gracing her lips has you like putty in her hands— you love nothing more than pleasing her. you eagerly let her guide you into her bedroom. you don’t pay much mind as she finds some new clothes for you to wear; she has a rule against dirty clothes in bed. while you haven’t been outside to play yet, your pajama top is tear stained and has a dash of dried pancake batter. you decide on the white chair in the corner as your place to perch until she’s ready for you.

too into your own world, your fingers find their way back into your mouth. your sudden push back into reality is caused by wanda’s grip on your wrist. your head snaps up to meet wanda’s cocked eyebrow; she’s not amused. while you let wanda remove your hand, you still let out a pitiful whine to let her know you’re not happy. wanda chooses to acknowledge it this time.

“less whining, milaya”, she scolds you. her hand reaches up getting ready to pull your top off. instead of letting wanda change your top, you impulsively slap her hand away.

you regret the second your hand makes contact with her hand. a red glow fills her eyes before you can even think about stuttering out an apology. as soon as the glow consumed her, it ends. a feat that has you feeling emotional whipslash. she beats you at another chance to speak first.

“mommy knows you’re only acting out because you’re tired, isn’t that right, milaya?” her grip tightens on your wrist as she speaks lowkey, “so mommy knows that you’re going to act right starting now. isn’t that right?”

that’s when it hits you: you’ve pushed wanda over the edge today. you know just how mean your mommy can be when you don’t listen. you immediately agree with her, “‘m really sorry! promise it!” to prove your point, your arms reach over your shoulders to quickly take off your shirt. wanda’s hum of approval lets you know you’re back in the clear… for now.

you let wanda change you like a doll after that— you’ll do anything to avoid the red glow from coming back. lucky for you, she grabbed the sweater you always nuzzle your face into when she wears it. it’s another not-so-noticeable way she’s helping keep you manageable this late morning. the soft texture keeps you like putty in her hands as she lays you down in her cloud-like bed. you’ve always been a sucker for soft things.

“my sweet girl, doing so good for me now,” the older woman coos out. feeling the bed dip, you move over some so she can rest with you. your haze filled mind has you reeling in the extra praise. when you don’t reply, wanda gets the hint about how floaty you’re feeling, “okay milaya, let’s rest now, hmm? mommy’s here with you.”

you nuzzle your way into her arms, letting her know you’re in agreement with her. you stay that way for a solid five minutes as she rubs your back in gentle circles. the sixth minute is when your need for a specific comfort comes back. you look back and forth between wanda and your fingers. so shyly, you finally speak up, “…mommy? um, i want some fingers?” you add on, “please!”

wanda doesn’t understand at first. she isn’t sure why you’d be horny right now— you never are after being reprimanded where her red glow comes out. she sighs, “not right now. maybe mommy’ll fuck you later tonight if you can be good for me.”

the look on your face let’s her know that is not what you meant. it takes all but two more seconds for it to click: you want something back in your mouth. wanda knows the tears that would come had she said no. the reprimanding is silly anyways, she thinks. while your oral fixation is only a newer appearance, she’s sure it can’t hurt for now. she would much rather save her energy for when truly you’re acting out, anyways. so she agrees, “yes, you may. such a silly rule anyways, hmm? you’re being my good girl.”

the praise has you craving something different: her fingers. it’s not something you’ve shown interest in before. but in your hazy state nothing sounds more comforting. what’s not to like? it’s attention for your mommy and a fix to your need.

the haziness makes it hard for the words to spill out of your lips. the mix of frustration over it and exhaustion have you teetering towards irritation again. wanda can see it in the way you scrunch up your face. always your savior, she steps in. “hush, dove. take a deep breath and try again.”

“i, um— i want your fingers. please!” you rush the words out so quickly that wanda almost doesn’t catch it. you’re still getting used to asking for what you what without being shy about it. while she typically would make you slow down, she can’t deny you any longer.

“well, since you said please”, she teases you. she mentally rolls her eyes at the huff you let out at her teasing.

you don’t have any time to make a quick remark back as two manicured fingers find their way to your bottom lip, slowing tracing it. a full drowsiness takes over your body. you quickly part your lips, welcoming her to stop the teasing. luckily, she gets your hint as she lets her fingers past your cherry lips. a wave of comfort comes over you as you wrap your lips around her fingers.

every sucking motion has you falling deeper and deeper into your cozy headspace. the exhaustion no longer feels world ending; it’s less overwhelming now. the comfort you’ve been craving all morning has finally found its way to you. everything she gives you just makes you feel so good!

being the good girl you are, you decide it’s only polite to thank her. after all, wanda does like it best when you mind your manners. “thank you ‘ommy”, you try to thank her, but the words come out messy due to the fingers in your mouth.

“don’t talk with things in your mouth. it’s not polite,” even with you being sweet, she just can’t help but tease you. she giggles when you whine in response. “okay, okay. i’m sorry, baby. let’s get you to sleep now, hmm?”

she sushes your whine, instead going to play with your hair the way she knows you like. wanda internally cheers as your eyes start to flutter shut. the grip of your lips on her fingers starts to loosen as the next few minutes go on. she can’t get herself to start her other tasks when you just look so adorable for her. she allows herself to stay until your breathing has completely evened.

had you been awake, you would see a flurry of red hair moving as slow as possible in order to not wake you. she can’t help but sneak a kiss on your forehead before she leaves her bedroom in order to go to pick some of the fresh fruit you’re obsessed with from the garden as a snack for later. a whisper fills the air as she slowly closes the door behind her, “silly girl, you just have to ask. you know mommy likes to give you what you want when you’re behaving.”

#her girl au #dark wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #dark wanda x reader #dark!wanda maximoff #mommy wanda #mommy!wanda #wanda fanfic #wanda x reader #wandanat x reader #wandanat

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 6 months

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Kinktober (16) Knifeplay

Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary: Playing cat and mouse with the infamous Black Widow was never a good idea. Especially when it meant you would be left wet and desperate.

Warnings/Tags: Enemies/Lovers, Knife Play, Dom Natasha, Teasing, Dirty Talk, Edging

Kinktober Masterlist

Your eyes scanned your surroundings, searching for a certain redhead assassin you were trying to escape from. Maybe, just maybe it wasn’t a good idea to piss off the infamous Black Widow during her mission, well the mission you just ruined. Straining your ears, you tried to listen for any sort of sound like a gentle footstep or a shallow breath, but you couldn’t hear anything.

“Gotcha,” she purrs into your ear, your body jumping at the presence but stilling immediately at the feeling of a blade pressed against your throat. A low chuckle tickled your ear, the sound sending a wave of arousal to in between your legs at the husky and seductive tone. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I wasn’t going anywhere…” The metal is pressed harder against the column of your throat at the lie, her front flush against your back, the feeling of her breasts pressing into you not helping with your untimely state of arousal.

“Oh really?” she teases, “So you weren’t running away then?” her mouth moves so her hot breath fans over your neck, lips ghosting the skin.

“No,” you sigh out, a shaky breath leaving you as she moves the blade to gently scrape your skin, “I wasn’t running away from anything.”

“Then what were you doing?” her mouth presses open mouthed kisses along the side of your neck, her teeth occasionally nibbling on the skin as your chest rises and falls with each ragged breath.

“Perhaps I was running towards something instead,” you try to sound cocky and sarcastic, but she can hear the affected tone of your voice.

“But I thought you weren’t going anywhere?” she smirks against your skin, your mouth opening and closing, lost for words as you realise you’ve just screwed yourself over. “So, not only have you ruined my mission but you’ve also lied to me,” her tone drops an octave, and her face pulls back from your neck, her arm spinning you two around, so your backs pressed against a nearby wall, her body in front of you, hand still holding the knife to your throat. “It’s almost like you want to be punished, Kotenok.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Apologies aren’t going to get you anywhere tonight Dorogaya,” she moves closer to you, mouth ghosting yours, “So don’t even bother. All I want to hear is the sound of you moaning or begging me to let you come, you understand that Kotenok?” You nod your head as best you can, not wanting to already annoy her and speak. “Good girl,” she rasps out, pressing her lips to yours, tongue swiping over your bottom lip then sliding into your mouth, dominating it as her tongue explores your mouth. You groan lewdly into the sloppy kiss, your hands clenching by your sides as you know not to touch her until she gives you permission. “Now, let’s get you out of this,” her fingers deftly move so the knife slides under the collar of your shirt before tearing straight through it.

Natasha drags the knife down to the hem of your shirt, her ripping the fabric off at the end to expose your bra covered chest and abdomen completely. The knife returns to your neck, tilting your head up by pressing into the underside of your jaw, a red mark forming at the pressure of the metal. You're looking up at her now, her green eyes darkened with lust as she takes in your body, lips tugging into a smirk at how your chest tries to steady your breathing but to no avail.

“Are you going to be good for me Kotenok?” she whispers, leaning down to ghost her lips over yours once again, the knife trailing down your neck and sitting on your collar bones, the tip of the blade digging into your skin slightly, the pain and thrill sending a wave of pleasure through you, your panties well and truly soaked now. You nod your head at her question, eyes lost in the mere slithers of green in hers. She smiles at you before claiming your lips briefly, her mouth then moves to your neck, tongue soothing over the small scrape from the blade.

You whimper when you feel her move the knife once again, the tip now pressing against your bra as she circles your nipple with the sharp object. She teases your sensitive chest through your bra, the knife scratching against the fabric, her free hand moving behind your back to unclasp it. You help her take off the item quickly before stilling once again at the sensation of the cold metal on your chest. She traces along your breasts, then dragging the blade down the valley in between them before tapping each of your perk nipples with the tip.

“I bet your dripping for me right now,” she mutters against your neck, “Do you want me to fuck you Kotenok?”

“Please, I need you Natasha,” you moan out when the blade continues down your body, down over your abdomen then slipping into the waistband of your pants. You tilt your head down to look at her hands, watching how her fingers twirl the knife in a way to slice open your pants, her fingers then tugging the item down your legs.

“So wet,” she groans to herself, the knife playing with the waistband of your panties now. You feel her move the knife across the line of fabric, teasingly playing with the item of clothing before the sound of tearing fills your ears.

“Fuck,” you mutter, throwing your head back and letting it hit the wall, the blade now moving down to your core. “Nat,” your voice is shaky as you look at her, the thrill getting a little too much now. She notices the hesitant look in your eyes, tapping your clit with the blade twice before stabbing it into the wall near you, your breath hitching at the action.

“Tell me you want me,” she husks out, mouth back to yours as she looks into your dilated pupils.

“I need you,” you moan out, the feeling of her fingers sliding through your folds and gathering your wetness making you lean forward to rest your forehead against hers. “I want you to fuck me so bad, please make me come Nat,” your voice is laced with desperation before you press your lips to hers to muffle the sinful noises that tumble out of your lips when she thrusts two fingers into you.

Natasha pumps her fingers into you mercilessly, curling them against your g-spot with thrust to have you moaning into her mouth. Your back arches away from the wall, your body pressed into her as her free hand grabs both of your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“God,” you groan at her show of strength, hips bucking against her hand, “Please.” She chuckles at your desperation, her fingers sliding in and out of you relentlessly. A guttural noise escapes you when she moves her thumb to circle your clit, her swallowing the moan by sliding her tongue into your mouth once again. “I’m gonna come, fuck-” your moan is cut off with a whine when she pulls her fingers out of you, stopping you from reaching your orgasm. “No, please Nat-”

“Did you really think I’d let you come, Kotenok?” her tone is condescending and feigning disappointment, your cheeks flushing at the way she talks and looks at you. “If you’re good, I promise to make it up to you Dorogaya,” she whispers, pressing her lips to yours softly before pulling away completely. “Now I have to go and fix the mess you made,” she releases your hands and cups your face gently. “See you soon Dorogaya,” is the last thing she says before placing a farewell kiss to your forehead and leaving you all alone, wet and frustrated.

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wandasaura · 2 months

Text

END UP DREAMING INSTEAD OF SLEEPING

summary — you can’t hate her with your eyes closed, so falling asleep against her chest definitely can’t be held against you… right?

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, domestic fluff w/ the cutest lawyer!wives and their bratty baby. this entire thing is just straight fluff, you horndogs need a timeout

authors note — here’s a little blurb for you, it was originally requested on ao3 !! it’s not much, just some wholesome fluff with our favorite ‘enemies’

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff

Natasha was properly exhausted, and the redness in her eyes spoke to that fact. Her sluggish footsteps carried her toward the front door at a snail's pace, and dragging her suitcase up the driveway had never felt like such a difficult task. Beneath the blanket of nightfall, the lawyer questioned if potential theft was worth leaving the luggage abandoned beside Wanda’s car in favor of walking into the house empty-handed, but had persisted with her motions when she decided she’d rather not have to go through the process of ordering yet another set of suitcases. Nobody would ever know how she came to have such misfortune with checking bags at the airport, but the running list of lost luggage was long and quite funny to people who weren’t her.

Being away for two weeks had felt like torture, and she was more then glad to be back in the space she created with her wife. Seeing your car in the driveway parked behind hers had been an additional bonus. Wanda had relayed very minimal information regarding the events that had led to you spending your nights and days off in Westview, which meant that whatever happened would certainly piss her off, but despite the knowledge of something upsetting you while she was away, it was comforting to know that both of her girls were waiting for her return in the same space.

Natasha struggled to find her keys when she finally made it to the front door, and with greuling efforts she had only barely managed to get the lock to turn on her first try when she’d finally located her keyring in the second smallest pocket of her crossbody bag. The entryway was dark, much like the rest of the house, but the softest glow of light came from a lamp in the living room that hadn’t been turned off. Wanda was meticulous about turning everything off before she went to bed, and if she ever had the slightest inquisition about having forgotten, she made rounds through the house to assure nothing had been overseen on her first pass. Leaving the suitcase beside the door, Natasha followed the kiss of light that projected shadows against the wall.

Even though the light was dim, one they used sparingly when a good book captured their attention and the length of sunlight was minimal, the silhouettes of two bodies were easily identifiable. Wanda sat curled up against the arm of the couch, her legs folded beneath her body with her chin propped up against the palm of her hand. You were burrowed into her side, your face pressed into her neck and hiding from the peaks of light that tried to stir you awake. Natasha felt her heart skip at the sight of you so content with one another, knowing that something must have gone right to lead to this tender moment.

“Natalia?” Wanda shifted at the echo of footsteps that hadn’t lingered through the house in fourteen days, her lips pulling into a sleep-riddled grin when she made out the distinct appearance of her wife dressed in comfortable black loungewear.

Natasha laughed softly at the expression on her wifes face, stepping close enough to lay a kiss against the crown of her head. “Privet dorogaya.”

“She wanted to wait for you. Poor thing was out within the first twenty minutes.” Wanda looked down at you, smiling at the easy way about your features when they weren’t riddled with stress and sadness. Classes had taken their toll on you, but as you fell into a dream that Wanda could only hope was good, there was an undeniable youth to your features. “I missed you.” She pulled Natasha down to her lips, humming in bliss when the recently returned lawyer returned the embrace.

“Missed you too. I almost killed Tony on the third day.” Natasha deflated against Wanda, and the Sokovian only laughed softly, knowing that fact was more than accurate. It was honestly surprising he hadn’t done something to tick off the Russian earlier. “I’m gonna take a shower. Meet me in bed?”

“I’ll be waiting, Mrs. Maximoff.” Wanda winked, watching Natasha retreat up the stairs, and minutes later the telltale sound of the shower running filled the house that had existed in near complete silence since the day she left. Wanda didn’t move from the couch, wanting to spend a few more minutes with you at her side before the peace was interrupted. When you stirred, trying to find a more comfortable position and ultimately failing, you groaned in annoyance. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“No. Goodnight.” You pressed your face into Wanda’s neck, covering the side of your face with your palm as even the close contact couldn’t completely coat you in craved for darkness.

Wanda laughed at your attempt to find sleep, but she didn’t allow you to succeed. She sat up straight, subsequently causing your body to twist at an awkward angle that would only be soothed if you shifted position too. You sighed, rubbing sleep from your eyes, deciding that it wasn’t going to be coming over you again for at least another handful of minutes.

“Is Natty home?” You perked up, hearing the shower running upstairs.

Wanda smirked at your delayed realization, nodding her head in the direction of the stairs. “Mmhm. Come on, she came in a couple minutes ago.”

You followed the Sokovian up the stairs, pointedly ignoring the embarrassment that settled across your cheeks when you sleepily stumbled into the wall after miscalculating the distance to the door of their bedroom. You flopped against the bed the second you were close enough, claiming your rightful position in the middle of the blankets.

“Getting comfy now, are we?” Wanda laughed at your eagerness to settle into her bed, but she hadn’t expected the night to unfold any differently, though your impromptu cuddle session on the couch had not been a wrench she’d expected to see thrown into those plans.

You didn’t cuddle back into her chest when she laid down in the bed beside you, but you didn’t shuffle away from her either. Your legs touched beneath the heavy white blanket that was pulled up over your shoulders, an eager smile on your lips as you heard the shower water turn off and Natasha mumbling beneath her breath as she fumbled through drawers and cabinets.

“Two weeks away and she’s forgotten where she put her hairbrush.” Wanda rolled her eyes, but there was no trace of annoyance in her features as she watched the door with the same amount of excitement as you.

When Natasha did reappear, dressed in a different set of loungewear and with her red waves cascading down her back in a dampened state, you wiggled closer to Wanda and patted the open space beside you. Little words were spoken, but nothing needed to be said when your bright smile spoke a million inexpressible feelings. Happy to be home, Natasha took full advantage of having both you and Wanda with her. She pulled you flush against her back, restraining your movement, but you had missed her heavy arm being thrown around your waist as you slept so you didn’t protest. Her fingers twisted into Wanda’s like they’d never truly belong anywhere else, and with full darkness surrounding the room, you fell back to sleep.

“I love you.” Natasha whispered to Wanda, stroking the woman’s knuckles with the calloused pad of her thumb.

“I love you too, moya lyubov’.”

#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dom!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dom!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wandanat #wandanat x reader #dom!wandanat x reader #wandanat fluff #series: you are in love #minors dni ৎ୭

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scarlethexelove · 3 months

Text

You're My Comfort

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 847

Warning: Tooth Rotting Fluff, Reader Doesn't Talk, Comfort, No Use Of Y/n.

A/n: I have been having a hard time the last few days so I wanted to write something sweet and fluffy with Nat. Reader is nonverbal in this, but only due to situational issues. Hope you guys enjoy the sweet little blurb I wrote. This was mostly to comfort myself and is an expression of how I react when I feel this way.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

You wander the halls for 20 minutes searching for the one person who gives you comfort when you feel like this, but you haven’t been able to find her anywhere. You have checked all her regular spots and you're about to give up when you enter the common room. That is where you spot her. Natasha is sitting on the couch slightly hunched as you hear the clicks of a keyboard. You make your way over to her. You start to crawl in her lap despite the laptop already being there. She can tell immediately from the look in your eyes and your demeanor why you are here and why you are doing this.

As you wiggle your way into her lap Natasha removes her feet from the coffee table and moves her laptop there. Which gives you the room that you desire. You sit facing her, wrapping your arms around her midsection and burying your head in her neck. Her arms wrap around you tightly and she kisses the side of your head. “Dorogaya what’s wrong?” She asks you, but all you do is let out a small whine. This lets Nat know all that she needs to.

Nat has been your girlfriend for long enough to know your little quirks and just by what you are doing and what is going on. “Okay detka you don’t need to talk. Whenever you're ready I’m here.” She kisses the side of your head and gently scratches at your back. She is doing exactly what you need at this moment.

You feel the tears well up into your eyes. You want to stop it but the overwhelming frustration and Nat’s love for you has the tears running down your cheeks and into her shirt. Nat holds you tighter and continues her light scratches. You start to cry more as you grip at the back of her shirt, your hands fisting at her shirt holding onto her as if she was going to disappear. Your whimpers are heard by the older woman. “Shhh sweet girl. Let it out. I’m not going anywhere.” She whispers in your ear.

Your sobs break her heart. She hates when you feel this way. The world is overwhelming, frustrating you to the point that all you want to do is cry. So she holds you close, becoming your safe place to get away. You can cry on her shoulder soaking her shirt and getting the comfort and reassurance that you need. She lets you cry for as long as you need and nothing else matters to her in these moments. All she cares about is you and to make you feel better.

Your sobs soon die down into sniffles and you pull out of Nat’s neck. She gives you that gentle smile that is reserved for only you. Her hands caressing your face gently wiping away the tears that remain. She leans forward kissing your forehead, then your nose, before gently kissing your lips. You enjoy the closeness nuzzling into her hand but you want to feel closer. So your hands move to the edge of her shirt and lightly raise it. She watches your moves, curious on what you are going to do next. You duck down and start to try and wiggle your way under her shirt

Natasha can’t help the giggle escaping her lips at your wiggling and attempting to get in her shirt with her. You whine a little at the difficult angle of this. She notices this. “Hold on detka.” She holds onto you tightly and starts shifting the both of you. She lays down on the couch with you still on top of her. So you shuffle down and start to crawl under her shirt. You stretch her shirt as you do so but she doesn’t care. Your head ends up on her chest as you wrap your arms tightly around her waist.

Natasha is able to stretch and grab a blanket laying it over the both of you. She goes back to gently scratching at your back. She can feel your body starting to get heavier on top of hers. Soon after she is sure that you have fallen asleep. Your breathing evening out and your body relaxed on top of hers. She smiles to herself, grateful that you feel so safe with her that you seek her out. It’s hard sometimes but she wouldn’t change it for the world. She would always be here for you and give you the love and safety that you need. You are her world and would do anything to see you smile.

Nat can feel her eyes getting heavy as she lays there and watches you. She leans down gently and kisses the top of your head the best she can at the angle and with her shirt in the way. “I love you detka. Forever and always” She whispers, laying back down. Her arms gently wrapped around you, relishing in the closeness and love that she feels for you. She finally lets herself drift off to sleep with you.

#natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff comfort

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unholyhelbig · 3 months

Note

Can we have the last chapter of oversight??

Title: The Oversight [Part 7/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 7200

Warnings: Blood, (a lot of blood) Gun violence, childhood trauma, a shoot out, murder, and horrible grammar.

[A/n: This is it!! I wanted to thank everyone so beyond much for sticking with this story. I do suck at endings, so I'm sorry if it doesn't live up to expectations (I'm also writing this after the worst case of covid I've ever had). I'm more than happy to continue reader and Nat's story in some oneshots if you want to request some!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Sheets of warm spring rain soaked into your clothes. Despite its tepid temperature, you were chilled to the bone. By the time you had taken Ronnie from her car seat in the back and coaxed a drowsy Darcy from the front seat, there was no dry part of you. A light wind had picked up and you were positive that your skin was pale, cold. Your lips are blue and shaking. It felt right to knock.

It was Yelena who answered the door, and she did so sparingly. It was just a crack at first, letting out a stream of golden light that caught the storm in its clutches. Then it was flung open entirely, and you had to squint against the brightness.

Darcy had a good grip on Ronnie’s hand, blinking away the last of her exhaustion as she started into the massive foyer and the house that was built around it. Yelena wore a bubblegum pink robe that was fuzzy. It looked warm. Her collarbone was littered in a smattering of blue and purple bruises. She dragged the two ends together to cover her skin.

“Y/n, it’s late.”

You were well aware of what time it was. This was Yelena’s odd way of asking if you were okay. She stepped to the side and allowed the three of you to enter, sopping wet. That was a good sign. Despite her abrasiveness, Natasha’s sister had more than one soft spot. One was for Kate, another for you, and even a small one for Clint.

“Holy shit…” Darcy whispered.

“It’s impressive, no?”

Yelena frowned, glancing up to the second level. The hall light flicked on, and you knew that Natasha had stirred. You’d awoken the dragon, not something that you were against doing. It felt stupid to have the worry of Ronnie being here in the back of your mind. This was an emergency situation.

Your heart started to pound faster and you shivered into yourself when she appeared at the top of the stairs. There was worry in her fern-colored stare. Why were you there? Why was your misfit family with you? It was late.

None of those questions came with Natasha, however. Instead, she wrapped you in her warm embrace. Your skin was frigid against her own, damp with the brutal attention of the storm. She had no objections to letting you sink into her embrace, wetting her pajamas.

“Dorogaya, chto sluchilos'?”

You pulled back, her fingers still digging into your waist. Yelena had been teaching you Russian, though you only picked up on a few words a time, you understood exactly the tone of her voice. “Carol… she was waiting for me at home.”

A hardness returned to her stare as she glanced at Ronnie who was overly interested in the tile pattern of the floor, and Darcy who was trying to work the pressure from her head with small touches to her nose.

“Did she hurt you?” her voice was a low growl “any of you?”

You shook your head. “Drugged Darcy, but it seems to be wearing off. Ronnie is alright. Carol said she was a friend and shit, Nat, I taught her about stranger danger, but she came straight to the door. I didn’t prepare her for anything like that.”

Yelena had wandered in her silent, cat-like way. She seemed to spawn back into the foyer with warm towels that felt like heaven against your skin. Your fingers were numb along with your emotions. Carol had entered your home. She entered your home.

This fact seemed to sink into Natasha’s bones. While she still held a strong grip on your shoulders there was a certain type of anger that edged through her from top to bottom. A storm brewed behind her eyes and threatened to shatter her cool confidence.

“Lena,” the word broke against her tongue “Will you please take Ronnie and Darcy to a guest room upstairs. I’m sure they’re exhausted.”

There was no objection from any party. You were once again left alone with Natasha, a charged feeling in the air that pulled the two of you together. She pressed her forehead against yours, breath warm on your collarbone.

“I’m going to kill her.”

“Nat,”

“I am. I don’t have another choice. There are clear lines that can’t be crossed and she just cut every single one of them.” Natasha hurriedly pushed strands of wet hair behind your ears, clearing your eyes. “She did this as a statement.”

“And if it’s a trap?”

“It most certainly is, darling, but that won’t stop us from walking into it.”

Very carefully, you thought about your next words, your next actions. It was easy to throw Natasha off, despite her resolute standing when she made a final decision. You felt her body pressed against yours, innate in its comfort and warmth. It would make you ache if she pulled away.

The words came out as a whisper “I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not.”

She attempted to step back, but your hands were tight against the silk of her robe. You held her there and she didn’t resist the tension. It was the first time you had really studied your own hands. They were different, entirely so, from those that serviced strangers at the diner.

There were soft bubblegum pink scars on your palms, and harder, darker ones on your knuckles from the countless hours you’d leaned into the pain of each punch. Natasha’s shoulder against the sand-filled bag as she stood against the strength you mustered.

A bruise from the last time you’d entered the shooting range bubbled under the surface of your palm, and it was this that Natasha stared at the hardest as you gripped her with an intensity she had yet to see.

“Did I ever tell you about my second foster father?” You asked, having released your hold, but keeping your hand splayed on her chest. You weren’t sure if you were holding her steady, or yourself. She shook her head. “Deputy Sheriff Edwards. He was a high school quarterback in Minnesota before he blew out his knee and would never let you forget it.

“And mostly… mostly he was a good guy. But, he worked long hours and had a mean streak that would show itself after a beer or two. If he had more, it was worse. He’d stumble in and find one of us kids to go out for shooting practice in the acreage behind the house.”

Natasha swallowed thickly and clenched her eyes shut for a moment. She hadn’t asked you about your familiarity with a gun and considered it a small blessing that you didn’t’ shy away from the weapon. Not only that, but you were quite nearly an expert shot once you got over the nervous familiarization.

“Locking the bedroom door, it worked sometimes, but not always. I had to pick and choose the nights when I wasn’t up for it. Usually in the winter. Minnesota gets cold, below freezing when the sun goes down behind the horizon. So cold that it burns your lungs to breathe, and you have to force your eyes open.

“Deputy Sheriff Edwards, when he couldn’t have me, he would go for my foster brother Andrew. I could hear the pistol going off, over and over again for hours. There was a distinct change in sound when the bullet actually hit the tin cans and it was… that night it was scarce. When you missed- when you missed, he got angrier.”

Natasha let out a shaky breath and pressed her forehead against yours. She was impossibly comforting, and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around her and bury your nose in the small of her neck to stave off the cold. But you had to make her understand that you could handle this.

“That night, Andrew missed one too many cans and each shot was pockmarked by a hit to the temple. It was right outside my bedroom window, and the snow, the snow makes everything so much louder.” It was you that pulled in a desperate breath this time, greedy and hungry “a boy can only take so much before he aims the gun at something other than a can and pulls the trigger.”

She had reached up and used her thumb to wipe away a tear you didn’t know you shed, spreading it against your cheek. “Malysh, I can’t bare to put you through more pain.”

“That’s not your choice to make,” you whispered back, reaching up and wrapping your fingers gently around her wrist. “Whether you like it or not, Nat, you’ve spent the last six months training me to be the protector that you’ve needed. It would be a crime not to have me by your side through this, after she came into my home and threatened my family. This anger, this rage, will do nothing but serve us.”

Natasha let out a watery chuckle, “alright, Summer Sentient, stay on my six.”

There was a shed at the edge of Natasha’s large property that you rarely entered. There were too many memories attached to the location. The first time you had opened the door and clocked the coloring of the floor and the coolness of the structure, you knew that it wasn’t a place you wanted to return often.

When you had first stirred months ago with your arms tied behind your back, your mouth fuzzy and tasting of blood- it was here that they had taken you. Through your exhaustive haze, you figured it was a larger place, a storage unit or even an airplane hanger at the edge of a runway. Instead, it was a simple one-room shed that was kept ice cold and made to look infinite through mental manipulation and large intense lights.

Kate Bishop seemed to sense your simple unease and moved to help your fumbling fingers with the gun holster that was secured around your chest. Like always, Natasha organized a united front and a pep talk before going into a situation that none of you could truly prepare for.

“It’s going to be okay, you know” Kate murmured after she fastened the buckle, clapping you on the shoulder. Her eyes lingered on Natasha, on Yelena as the two of them spoke in hushed voices near a small counter that you hadn’t realized was there in the dark.

“Am I that easy to read?”

“Like an open book. It’s obvious how much you care for one another, and nothing is obvious with this family.” Kate moved to the other side of you, you tracked her with your eyes. Clint, in turn, watched the two of you interact from his perched spot near the far wall. “It took two years for Yelena to show any type of affection towards me.”

“Jesus Christ, I know she’s stoic, but shit.”

“Shit is right. I was head over heels for her within the first week. Mind you, I was suffering severe trauma and thrown into something much beyond myself. But I chipped away at her overtime, wore her down until she was comfortable enough telling me what she feels. But with the Romanoff’s, it’s not just about what they feel. It’s how they feel.”

You lifted both of your eyebrows at her. Kate handed you the jacket that was draped over a nearby chair, you toyed with it in your hands, moved your fingers over the brass buttons. It was much too warm in here to put on yet.

“Natasha is one of the scariest people I have ever met and It’s not because of her dripping ledger. It has everything to do with how much she cares. And she cares about you, y/n. It’s why she’s so reluctant to bring you along to something like this. To the end.”

“Thank you, Kate. For leading me through all of this.”

“Anytime, y/n. Can’t have you dying on us, can we?”

The plan was simple; there was no plan. A deal was supposed to met in a quick and clean way. Much like the restaurant, Natasha just needed you to simply be there to back her up. There was neutral ground at the edge of the shipyard that was far away enough from the unassuming population. Carol had agreed to meet there; tentatively.

There was something so civil and political about a business that was saturated in black sticky blood. You had a jarring feeling that tonight would be it for you, the moment of no return. Once you entered in a united front behind Natasha, your life would never be the same.

You didn’t want it to be.

Natasha Romanoff drove you absolutely wild, but had a way of calming that storm all the same. Though she’d never allow it, you would take bullets for her. But, you’d also take bullets for the little girl that you struggled to confront now.

The leather binding against your chest suddenly felt too stuffy. You’d often hid it behind the guise of a jacket or slid it into your glovebox before you trudged up the rickety stairs to your apartment. Now it was hugged as tightly as Kate could get it, pinching the fabric of your shirt.

Ronnie had looked up from the book she’d curled up with at the end of the sofa. She stared at it with quiet eyes. Everything she did was quiet but this time it felt more judge mental than usual. Natasha sidled up behind you, one ringed hand pressing calmly into the small of your back.

“Remember what I told you on the Ferris Wheel?” Natasha asked.

“She’ll talk when she’s ready.”

“Mm,” Natasha gave you a soft kiss behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I know that look. She wants to talk.”

The mafia boss gave you a little shove forward before making herself comfortable leaning against the doorframe that you had just vacated. She was begrudgingly right. Veronica had scooted over deliberately and given you room next to her.

Ronnie allowed you to get comfortable next to her, running her small fingers over the leather of the holster. You stopped her before she could reach the sheathed weapon, gently lowering both of your hands to your lap.

“Natasha?”

The woman stood up straighter, looking into the expectant eyes of your daughter. She patted the empty seat on the other side of her and you watched as your girlfriend struggled not to flounder under the weight of the request. Eventually she joined the two of you on the couch, nervously twisting the closest ring around her finger.

“I’m not stupid” Ronnie said.

You frowned “No one said you were stupid, baby.”

Your daughter was glowering at you. It took years to read her facial expressions, but the one that was on her features now was loud and clear. “You can’t come home with bruises like that and expect me not to notice.”

You blinked at her dumbly. Yes, kids were perceptive, Ronnie more than others. But no part of you wanted to expose you to the life you’d been thrown in. Guilt was weighing down Natasha’s shoulders, she glanced at you sheepishly.

“You weren’t supposed to join the mob. I know why you did it, though.”

Good god, she was smart. Smarter than you’d ever give her credit for. Everyone wants to believe that their child is special but there was a certain pride in your chest that rivaled your fear. She pulled her little hand from yours and placed it on the spine of the book.

She seemed to lose interest in you altogether and turned her attention to Natasha. “Don’t let her get hurt.”

“I…Are you giving me the shovel talk?”

“I don’t know what that means, just make sure my mom’s okay.”

Natasha swallowed the dryness in her mouth, it was nearly audible. “You don’t have to worry about that, kid. I promise.”

There was an innate fear coiled in the center of your stomach, and the cacophony of footfalls against weathered docks did nothing to ease your pitfall of feelings. Clint towered over you in height, walking with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets to ward off the chill of the summer wind.

Kate and Yelena stalked behind you both, their shoulders hunched, their conversation a hushed whisper. Six docks altogether led into one hexagon platform, that at one point, must have held a fair much like the one you attended in the early summer.

From the other stretch of docking came five others. Their silhouettes were fuzzy, black against the night sky. Carol held herself with a confidence that rivaled Natasha’s. You could make out Monica amongst the crowd, a man that you’d seen around town that you were sure went by the name Fury; particular to his deeply embedded rage.

A circle of wood in the center of the land stood between the two groups like a buffer. Hands were on guns, puffs of air streaming into the lone portlights drilled into soft wood. The scent of the sea itself seemed to assuage you into flexing your fingers, the salt in the air made everything feel filmy and frigid.

It was Carol who spoke first. Her voice was carried by the wind. “I must admit, I didn’t expect you to call a meeting like this.”

“You violate my trust as if it’s nothing Miss Danvers. It’s clear you wanted to invoke something other than a slap on the wrist.”

“Well, there’s been talk around town that you’ve become smitten with your little pet project. Forgive me for wanting to test the theory myself. If the big bad Romanoff sisters are going soft, don’t you think I should know about it?”

Yelena shifted behind you and in turn, so did Monica. No one reached for their weapon, though you itched from the inside out. Natasha even lift an eyebrow at the statement.

“You wanted to discuss the Maroni property. I’m willing to sell, but only with the proper conditions.”

Clint had sat you down a few weeks after your first excursion. The two of you sat at the end of the very diner that you had quit. You never really tried the food but could stomach the fries- even admit to yourself that they were the best in town for their price point. The Maroni property was nothing more than a vacant lot, but it held more than that. It would make Carol the owner of 60% of the town instead of the meager 50% that split everything equally.

If there was any objection to her offer, no one would show it. Peace of mind would not be worth giving up her hold, but you were. Yelena could kick her frustrations out at home later, Clint and Kate were none the wiser to do anything but trust blindly; and you were right there with them.

“And what conditions are those?”

“The same conditions our parents have abided by all these years. There’s an honor in what we do and what we control and when you start crossing lines like the ones you did last night, you pour gasoline on an already raging fire.”

Carol tasked and took a step forward. This time the handle of your gun was in your palm. You held your stance. “So poetic, Natasha. You have been since grade school. I’ll take the land, but you’re mistaken if you think I’ll pay full price.”

Natasha clenched her jaw, her eyes darting to the rolling darkness of the sea. The waves were crashing violently against the wooden support beams. There were whitecaps miles from the shore and a storm was brewing that you could almost taste.

“Seventy-five. I won’t go any lower.”

“Alright, Seventy-five.”

Carol stuck her hand out over the circular center of the docks. It was a show of good faith, but your palm grew slick with sweat. You watched her with more care than you ever have before. Clint was rigid with tension, and you could practically hear Kate breathe nervously behind you.

Eventually, Natasha took the woman’s hand. She held it for a moment before leaning closer, whispering something that you couldn’t’ hear over the screeching of the waves. You could, however, see Carols face shaded by the port lights. The golden yellow color enveloped the stark coldness in her stare, the anger that flashed behind hazel irises.

When the gunshot sounded, Natasha’s back was to Carol and those who flanked her sides. It was such a quiet and muted sound that made your ears ring, but it was also a familiar sound. One that flashed back to that snowy night in Minnesota, the spray of pulpy blood on the startlingly white snow.

When Andrew had pulled the trigger, he looked Sheriff Deputy Edwards in the eyes and you had always wondered if the fear cut through the haze of alcohol that night. The split second where the bullet left the chamber, was there penance to be made? He’d dropped to his knees and let out a choking sound that you heard through the paned glass windows.

There wasn’t a wall of insulation, and wood, and glass to garble the sound of the gunshot that rang out tonight. The waves seemed to swallow up your own scream and the commotion that stretched into being.

Carol had waited until Natasha broke the handshake and turned away before she fired her weapon. Something so strong and ever-present was dropped to the sun-bleached wood in a matter of moments. Natasha didn’t make a sound.

“Get down!” Clint yelled next to you.

You caught the anger in Monica’s stare, the way that Carol had moved her target from Natasha, directly to you. At this specific point, with Natasha crumpled at your feet and the woman who had pulled the trigger sneering at you, was when something snapped within you.

A good shot, you had always been a good shot. Not only that, but you’d been efficient too. Clint had given up trying to drag you away and instead made quick work of those that were backing Carol. Kate and Yelena were gone; in the throws of darkness, into hand to hand combat. It left you alone with the woman that made everyone cower in fear.

Natasha’s blood had sopped onto your shoes. Tears threatened to well up in your eyes. She wasn’t breathing. You couldn’t tell if she was breathing. She had curled into herself and hidden her face from you and while you wanted to pull her into your arms at this very moment; that wasn’t possible.

An ongoing war was raging around you. Gunfire and screaming, and oddly enough, the pungent scent of fire. Carol watched, confident in her protection. She smiled at you, a wolfish and inhuman grin.

“Now, you can’t tell me this hasn’t changed your perspective.” She said, sweeping her arms out as if this were her kingdom- as if this chaos, this reign of gunfire and screams amongst the people you loved, was what she wanted all along.

“It has,” you raised your gun, pointing it directly to her chest. To her credit, she didn’t flinch. “I just watched you shoot a woman in the back. What’s noble about that?”

She cackled “Noble? That’s the problem with you Romanoff’s, there is nothing noble about this business. To win, you have to play dirty. To win you can’t be afraid to take what you want, and I can’t exactly do that through handshakes and good will. Can I?”

“I suppose not, but how are they supposed to trust you, hm? All of those you’ve promised the world to, the ones fighting for your wellbeing as we speak?”

“I would never betray them.”

“Oh, now, I don’t believe that.”

She frowned at you and readjusted her hold on her gun. In any other world, she would have fired her gun by now, but there was something deep within Carol that had been curious about you. About how Natasha seemed to soften around your presence. Still, she didn’t understand, but she wanted it all the same.

Her finger adjusted on the trigger. You watched every movement she made. There was another, calmer, war in her mind. She could kill you right here if she wanted to, but you couldn’t tell if she did or not.

Natasha let out a wounded noise at your feet; a wet choking sound as she struggled to pull air into her lungs. Carol lifted both eyebrows and glanced down at her. “You can save her or kill me. I don’t think you’re quick enough to do both.”

Kate let out a guttural scream from further down the dock that was followed by two more blows and flashes from a gun. Most of Carols lackeys had been incapacitated in one way or another. You clocked Clint’s trembling form as he kneeled between two dark masses. You couldn’t see Yelena, couldn’t’ even hear her, but she leaned into her silence, her rage.

By the time your eyes had met with Carol’s once more, she had made her choice. She pressed further down on the trigger, and in your blind edge of confidence you fired first. Both bullets were aimed at her stomach, and both hit their mark before her single shot found it’s way to your shoulder.

The pain shot through your arm, down the numbness of your fingers. A deep sound escaped the back of your throat. The force of the blast nearly brought you to your knees. Nearly. You’d felt the heat of the bullet rip through the gore of your shoulder- enter and exit in a clean way that would hiss in pain later, but it was no match for the adrenaline.

Carol let out a groan, one that bubbled with pain. You kicked her weapon away from her, letting it slide against the wooden dock. She blinked up at you dumbly, her hands pressing against the slowly growing crimson spot in the center of her stomach.

The color dripped from the wound on your shoulder, over the silver of the casing. A singular drop of red succumbed to the pull of gravity and landed against the smooth expanse of Carol’s collarbone. When she grinned, her teeth were stained with rust.

“Tell me, Carol, what do you see?” You pulled back the hammer, ignoring her sloppy chuckles and the frothy blood that foamed past her lips. “A broken waitress, or a trained killer?”

“Now you’re getting it…” she swallowed thickly, trying to quell the pain “It’s all about perspective.”

You pulled the trigger for a third, and final time that night. You were so trusting in your aim that you refused to look when you administered the final blow. Her head dropped to the side, the bullet finding it’s way right between her eyes.

Silence seemed to fall over the docks. You could hear the crashing of the waves and the seagulls that circled above at the scent of shed blood. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and the gun you wielded was dropped to the dock.

She’d been killed so easily. This big, hulking demon that loomed over the town, and over your life. It took nothing but a rage-filled trigger pull to end it all. Your heart was in your throat, blood rushing past your ears.

And then there was Natasha.

Natasha had shifted onto her back, her hand outstretched in your direction. You could hear the painful wheeze in each breath. Her skin was pale, a bloom of red at the corner of her lip. You wanted to kiss it away, to pull her as close as possible, but you were afraid to move her.

Your knees dug into the coarse wood, your palm finding purchase on her cheek. “Nat, baby, I need you to stay awake, okay?”

“The stars, you can see them so well out here.”

You frowned, glancing up at the velvety blue sky. The constellations were bright, making little pictures of lions, and archers, and long stretches of water. It was hard to see them with the perpetual glow of the city. But out here, just like the mansion, they made a map.

“Yeah, baby, you can.” You reached blindly for her hand. It was cold. “You can’t go to sleep. Just keep looking at the stars, for me. Clint! Lena!”

Your voice broke on the second call. Your face was damp with tears as you kept track of Natasha’s stunted breathing, and the tight grip she still held you with. She refused to let you go, and you did the same, pressing the warmth of your lips to her white knuckles.

Yelena was by your side. She was pale and shaking herself. There was a gash above her eye, dripping blood and drying against her cheek. There was a split in her lip, a forming bruise under her chin and against the length of her neck.

“ne ostavlyay menya, sestra. Ty sil'neye etogo. Drat'sya.”

“Should we call an ambulance?”

“No, no hospital.” Yelena shook her head “we do this on our own, just like we always have.”

Your fingers were caked in blood, a dried brown color that was ugly against the beauty of your shared bedroom with Natasha. You wanted to scrub them clean, watch as the water was tinted a toxic orange before it circled the drain, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

A glass of water was set on the small table next to you, and you fought back the urge to startle. You hadn’t heard anyone enter. There was a familiar spiced scent to Darcy that you picked up on before registering her presence. She nudged the glass closer to you and lowered herself into the other chair.

“You should really let Yelena look at that shoulder.” She said.

“It’s fine.”

You picked up the glass and considered swallowing down some of the room temperature water, but thought better of it. You held onto it because you could. It grounded you, the cloudy glass stained with coppery fingerprints.

“The news… they’re saying that a wealthy businesswoman snapped. Allegedly, she lured her employees down to the docks and killed them all before turning the gun on herself.”

“Tragic.” This time you did take a swallow of the water before setting it on the table.

Darcy watched you carefully. She wasn’t being judgmental, or at least, that’s what you wanted to believe. Her eyes were still darkened with exhaustion but filled with a deep kind of worry. She hesitated, moving to put her hand on your knee, but thinking better of it.

Instead, she directed her attention to Natasha’s unconscious form on the bed. Yelena had called in a private doctor, stubborn in her efforts. He worked mostly alone, and had hushed conversation with those in the room that could comprehend better than you could in your fuzzy state.

Kate had attempted to patch you up, but you pulled away with enough intensity for her to focus on licking her own wounds. Natasha was stable, she was alive. They weren’t sure if she would make it through the night- but you’d remain by her side until they were sure.

“I can’t lose her,”

The admission was whispered and shattered. You didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility of Natasha not pulling through. She was the first person you’d met in years that not only accepted you, but pushed you to be a better version of yourself. She had a softness for Ronnie, a commanding nature to her presence.

Darcy cracked a small smile, “leave it to you to fall in love with a loan shark that has a pension for bullets. Something tells me that’s she’s more stubborn than even you. And if that’s the case, then she’ll make it.”

You reached out and grasped Darcy’s hand, allowing her to ground you. Pain ripped through your shoulder, the bandage that you had allowed Kate to apply was dotted with the wounds efforts to gush. Still, you squeezed as hard as you could manage, listening to the heart monitor that hummed in time with the grandfather clock in the corner.

She stayed with you while you fought to stave off sleep. At one point, Clint came in with a tray of food that lay mostly untouched on the dresser. Your eyes burned as you stared at the simple rise and fall of her chest, both feet planted on the floor.

Sixteen hours had passed. You’d paced the room, and at one point, finally allowed someone to address your wounds. It throbbed in time with your heart, which in-turn, mirrored Natasha’s. It was hour twenty when you saw any sign of life, and you nearly missed it, the fluttering of her eyes as they adjusted to the sun streaming into the room.

You’d rolled your head back, trying to quell the stiffness of your neck, the hushed growl escaped your lips. “Oh… fuck.”

“That’s a beautiful sound.”

To hell with your aching body. Natasha’s voice was so meek that you’d nearly missed it altogether. You were treated with a startling blast of green color. She stared at you inquisitively, trying to prop herself up on her elbows. You were quicker than her in this state, using your palm against her chest to gently force her back onto the mattress.

“Don’t try to move,”

“I don’t do well with orders, y/n.”

“God damn it, I know.”

She gave you a small smile at this, but allowed you to coax her back into a laying position. She let out a protest of pain as you placed your ear flush against her chest, assuring that this was real, that her heart was beating strong and consistently. And it was, it really was.

Natasha chuckled, and worked her hand through your hair. “It’s okay, Zaychik. I’m alright.”

“Nat, you were shot in the back twice. It’s going to be a long road to recovery. You’re lucky that it didn’t shatter your spine, hell you could have lost the ability to walk altogether-“

She cut you off, grabbing your chin and leading your lips to hers. She tasted of blood, of the slightest bit of antiseptic and artificial cherries. She tasted like home. You fretted to pull away, knowing that she had kissed you to ultimately shut you up, but really, did that matter?

Natasha frowned into the kiss and pulled away, her fingers had found the bandage on your shoulder, running across the cross section where your skin met gauze. “You’re hurt. She hurt you.”

“She got a good shot in but had terrible aim. Nothing but a flesh wound.”

“Flesh wounds can be dangerous, Malysh.”

“Mm, so they can.” A few moments passed, your forehead pressed against hers, happy to be in her presence. “What did you say to Carol… right before she…”

Natasha let out a deep sigh and winced at the exhalation. She laid her head on the pillow and glowered at the painted ceiling above you both. You remembered staring up at it after Natasha had exhausted you on more than one occasion. Right now, she was trying to find the words, just like you had tried so desperately to find your solace.

“I threatened her family the way she threatened mine. I thought better of her, I suppose, than to shoot a woman in the back. Though, I would have done the same with the threats I laid out. I just needed to be sure that she wouldn’t… couldn’t hurt you… Ronnie.”

“You don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

“Maybe not the Danvers family, but there are more just lurking in the shadows waiting for their chance to swoop in. They’re scared now, I’m sure. But fear only goes so far.”

“I’m in this for the long haul, if you’ll have me, of course.” You tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, careful of her wounds. “I don’t care if it’s the Russo’s, or the Sarkissian’s, or any other psycho family that tries to take your power away from you. They’ll have to go through me.”

Natasha chuckled, “Alright, quickdraw, don’t get too cocky. We’ll lay low for a little bit. Heal. Then we can talk about the future.”

Somehow, that was enough for you. Natasha waking up, speaking and smiling, and laughing would always be enough for you.

“Drop the gun,” Kate’s voice was shaking, her hands outstretching in front of her in the ultimate sign of surrender. She looked vulnerable, the sun beating down on her shoulders and her stormy eyes catching the reflection of the water. “I’m unarmed, this isn’t cool, man.”

Her protests didn’t’ seem to matter one bit. Cooper pumped the front end of his gun and aimed the ice cold water directly at Kate’s stomach. His action was a silent call to the brigade of children that ascended on her; some carrying water guns like Coop, and others nailing her with neon colored balloons.

“Ah, the inhumanity!” She fell to the grass, scooping Ronnie up in the process. “Shield me, kid!”

You watched the girl with fondness, fighting back until the end. Clint chuckled behind you, flipping the burgers that had browned evenly on one side. The scent was intoxicating, and though you wouldn’t’ admit your hunger outright; your mouth was watering.

Yelena had ascended on the situation, taking a super soaker and dousing the clan that was attacking, and winning, Kate. She tucked Ronnie under her arm like a football and started to dash away towards the fence, out of earshot.

Clint’s wife, Laura, was pouring a glass of lemonade for Darcy. The two of them watched the scene from poolside chairs with as much amusement as you carried. They spoke with smiles on their faces, cheeks flushed from the heat of the day.

Warm arms wrapped around your midsection, a chin resting on your shoulder. The scent of sunscreen filled your lungs. You had always felt innate safety in Natasha’s embrace. She kissed behind your ear once, and then the side of your neck.

“She’s good with them.” Natasha purred.

“I think it’s because she’s a kid at heart.”

“And you let her protect your assets?” Clint tsked as he loaded the burgers onto a nearby plate. “Seriously, without Yelena training her I never would have taken the safety off her gun.”

“I can hear you!” Kate called back, shifting Ronnie to her other hip. “They are being so rude. I’m more than capable of being a degenerate.”

“Degenerate,” Yelena scoffed “Kate Bishop, you’ve invented the word.”

You shook your head, turning in Natasha’s arms before you draped your own over her shoulders. She wore that same black bikini that she had on when she proclaimed your new rank in her little empire. It seemed so long ago- and she was certainly marred with new markings to prove this. Your fingers tracing gently over the healed scars on her stomach.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips against hers, “Thank you for this.”

“Mm,” She hummed into the embrace “For what, detka?”

You deepened the embrace, whispering against her “resolution.”

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanov x reader #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Kate Bishop #Clint Barton #Yelena Belova #Katelena #Marvel #Mafia au

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mviswidow · 4 months

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afterglow

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word count: 1k

Summary: Coming home from a mission to your girlfriend, Natasha.

As you wait outside the mission debriefing room, you see Steve and Natasha wrapping up their meeting with Fury.

Steve comes out first, chatting with you briefly before heading out of the building.

You watch Natasha and Fury speak through the glass door, the corner of your lips quirking up the slightest bit when Natasha catches your gaze.

While you check your watch for a moment, the door creaks open, and Natasha strides out, “Y/L/N.”

“Romanoff,” You respond with a nod.

A smirk plays on her lips as she brushes past you and you catch your lower lip between your teeth for a moment.

You want to watch her walk away, but Fury is waiting, so you push the door ajar and settle in for your mission debrief. Your mind is tired from working overtime while on a week-long solo mission and you crave the comfort of home. Despite your exhaustion, you focus on your meeting and get through it as quickly as possible.

The ride home is a blur that you forget all about the moment you step into your apartment and are welcomed by the familiarity of the space. As you slip your shoes off next to the door you smell pasta cooking and smile, following the pleasant aroma into the kitchen to be met with your girlfriend standing in front of the stove.

“Hi, dorogaya,” Natasha grins at the sight of you and greets you with a much-needed hug. The sound of her voice was a comfort in itself.

“I missed you so much,” you sigh, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax into her arms, your body aching with new injuries and exhaustion.

“I missed you too,” she hums, kissing your cheek and your lips with a tenderness reserved for moments with you.

After nudging her nose against yours, she pulls away, “D’you get hurt?”

“I managed to get out mostly unscathed…”

Natasha raises an eyebrow at you knowingly and you chuckle, “Just a couple of scratches and some bruised ribs.”

Her discontent is evident on her face and you press a kiss to her lips in a feeble attempt to distract her, “I’m fine.”

“You’ll have to let me take a look at it later,” she insists softly.

“Okay,” You nod, and press another kiss to her forehead. “What about you, are you injured at all?”

“No, I’m alright,” she assures you, which earns her a smile.

Natasha seems to remember that she’s cooking and turns back to the stove to stir the pot, “I put the spaghetti in just before you arrived and I’m about to start making the sauce you like, go get cleaned up before dinner.”

You head to the bedroom and are indulgent in your shower, standing underneath the warm and gentle stream of water a little longer than necessary as it relaxes your tired muscles.

With your towel wrapped around you and your wet hair dripping onto your shoulders, you enter the closet and find yourself reaching for Natasha’s clothes.

You slip on an oversized shirt and a pair of sweatpants before treading back into the kitchen to find Natasha plating the spaghetti. Your stomach rumbles eagerly at the sight of food.

“Thank you for cooking, ‘Tasha,” you smile as you sit at the table.

“Of course,” she kisses the top of your head, setting down your plate before sitting across from you.

“I didn’t know you also had a mission this week,” you remark, twirling the spaghetti on your fork.

“Neither did I,” she chuckled. “It was last minute, only lasted two days.”

You hum in acknowledgment as you chew.

“I honestly appreciated the distraction,” she continued. “Being here without you is depressing. I don’t like waking up to an empty bed.”

“Neither do I,” you know the feeling all too well. “I’m so relieved to be home. You have no idea.”

“I have some idea,” she teases.

Dinner is over quickly, as you’re both hungry, and you do the dishes together in a well-practiced routine before settling into bed.

You think she’s forgotten, but she brings up your ribs the moment you lay down.

“I’m tired,” you groan in response at her request to lift your shirt. When you swat her hands away she playfully pins them down.

“Don’t fuss.”

A blush grows on your cheeks rapidly as Natasha smirks at you, knowing she’s won. She takes advantage of your flustered state to finally take a look at your injury.

Her eyebrows are pulled together as she frowns, inspecting the swelling and lightly pressing on your discolored skin. Your muscles contract painfully in an effort to squirm away from the contact on your injury and she mumbles out an apology when she hears your breath hitch as you shut your eyes tightly before leaning down to kiss your ribs very gently, “You have to ice this before we go to bed.”

Before you can make an excuse to get out of it, Natasha is already getting up to get you ice.

She returns with an ice pack and helps to make sure it’s not too cold. When she’s sure that you’re comfortable, she lets you pull her into your uninjured side. You feel her melt into you and warmth spreads through your body, despite the feeling of the cold ice.

You kiss the top of her head and Natasha drapes her leg over yours. You wish you didn’t have to worry about keeping the ice pack in place so you could hold each other closer, but you’re more than happy to settle with what you have now.

Natasha’s warm breath tickles your skin and your hand makes its way underneath the hem of her shirt to rub her back, occasionally lightly scratching up and down with your nails.

The way she sighs lets you know that she’s content and you smile to yourself, relishing in the moment. You try to forget that you’ll ever have to leave Natasha’s side again but you can’t help counting down the days until your next mission anxiously.

Neither of you has very much energy tonight, but you’re perfectly happy just laying in bed with the woman you would soon ask to marry you.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #mcu #marvel #wlw #black widow #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #scarlett johansson #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagine

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lyralit · 1 year

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my favourite nicknames, romantically, platonically, or in a rivalry

qin ai de (Mandarin Chinese; darling)

(and with that I have to add:) dorogaya (Russian; dearest)

beloved

mon petit chou (French; my little cabbage)

Chang noi (Thai; little elephant)

media naranja (Spanish; half an orange [my other half])

lapachka (Russian; sweetie pie / paw)

Liebling (German; darling)

(mi) corazón (Spanish; (my) heart)

mi vida (Spanish; my life)

ma puce (French; my flea)

mon saucisson (French; my sausage)

gioia mia (Italian; my joy)

koibito (Japanese; beloved person)

Kretenu (serbian; you idiot)

aeini (arabic; my eyes)

aein (Korean; sweetheart)

slanchitse (little sun; my sun)

ya amar (Arabic; my moon)

love

muruseni (finnish; my crumb)

albi (Arabic; my heart)

elskede (Danish; beloved)

mia kara (Esperanto; my dear)

mea aloha (Hawaiian; loved one)

neshama sheli (Hebrew; my soul)

hyati (Arabic; my life)

jann (Hindi; my life)

shagua (Chinese; fool)

irog (filipino; beloved)

kokhana [кохана] (Ukrainian; beloved)

habibi (Arabic; my love)

sayang (Indonesian; dear)

Schat/schatje (dutch; treasure/little treasure)

zirochka (Ukrainian; little star)

please correct me if I've gotten any wrong! or feel free to add your own in the replies and I'll add them to the list.

#nicknames #writing prompts #lyralit #writing #prompt list #romantic #platonic #rivalry #nickname list #languages #writers #writers block #writing help

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the-doomed-witch · 7 months

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BOOP!

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The cuteness aggression gets insufferable once you get some time with your wife after a long day of work.

Word Count: 0.8k

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, bc wanda is just so cute also not proof read

Author’s Note: another one i wrote in like 30 minutes… welcome to skye-should-be-studying-but-they-keep-writing-short-fics episode two 🙏 (gif is mine)

MASTERLIST // NAVIGATION // READ ON AO3 // REQUESTS CLOSED

— ✦ —

Both of you sit on the couch, snuggling together after a long hard day at work. You nuzzle up against her neck, finally having felt her tangible presence around you after weeks. Work has been so tiring for you as well as Wanda, that both of you had begun to live together vicariously through memories. Hell, all of her features look so interestingly novel to you.

But when you look at her closely right now, after so long, she never fails to pass as the most adorable person you know. Her eyes still focus on the sitcom playing on the television. Oh Wanda’s mesmerising green eyes…

Her nose scrunches up as she smiles. The curve of her smile, the laugh lines. She’s the most lovable being to you.

You cannot control the feeling, you want to just keep on looking at her. So you immediately straddle her waist and grab her face in your palms. “Baby, what are you doing?” She speaks between little laughs. Oh my God. Stop being so cute.

You kiss her lips, hands finding their way around her neck. Wanda giggles between more kisses, her laughter is churning your insides. You adjust your seat around her waist, but she gets it wrong. “Y/N, detka, I’m sorry I don’t…”

“Oh no, no, I didn’t mean that. I know you’re tired, so am I.”

“Then?”

You stare into her eyes, viridescence engulfing them. A smile is given to her, which she reciprocates. “Goodness, Wanda. You’re the most adorable person ever.” She laughs gratefully at your compliment.

“Am I now honey? You think I’m adorable, hm?”

“I can’t comprehend how to describe it. I’ve felt your warmth around me after so… so long. I think I fall in love with you every single time I look at you. You’re just so-”

You boop her nose with yours. “What’s going on baby? What’s all of the sudden-” She gets interrupted by another boop.

You boop her nose with a finger again, and it makes you chuckle. Wanda looks at you with a blank red face, the blood rushes into her cheeks. She’s never been treated like this before, so tender, so light.

“I. Want. To. Bite. Your. Red. Cheeks.” you say, punctuating each word with further booping. Her face burns - she feels noticed under your gaze, as if she’d been invisible all her life.

“Y/N, I’m so confused…”

“I don’t know either Wands. I just want to bite your cheeks, squish them, boop your nose, give you so many kisses. I don’t know!” You pull her face close to yours and place little pecks on her freckles, “Can I call you pookie?”

Wanda throws her head back, laughing. “Oh dear, I love how you’re being so affectionate around me. I missed you. I missed us.”

You reply to her, “I missed you more, pookie.”

Her forehead rests over yours, as she cups your face between her warm hands. “I love it when you call me that.”

“Okay. Pookie.” You kiss her again, and again, and over again. Your teeth grit against each other in a tight smile, your visual focus on her. Her auburn hair is tied up in a lazy bun, and she’s free from her regular makeup. Just natural, sitting beneath you.

You pull strands of hair away from her face, a gaze filled with nothing but adoration. When you’re done playing with her hair, you hold her hands and kiss each of them softly. Throughout your little efforts, Wanda stares at you, occasionally giggling.

“I cannot eat you. That’s sad for me. But…” you smooch the tip of her nose, “I can kiss you all over. Lots of kisses, all of them for you.”

She wraps her hands around your waist, “Oh dorogaya… What’s going on today?”

“I love you so much.” you speak before planting more loud hearty smacks on her face. She’s adorably captivating. Wanda tries to hold you in place, saying, “Stop, Y/N! It tickles!” But it only ever encourages you.

“Darling, please…” Her hands entwine with your hair, pulling your face a little away. Reluctantly, you pull yourself back to see her precious smile.

“You’re my pumpkin pie, sweetheart, my dearest darling, absolute ray of sunshine, honeybun, sugar plum, my most beloved, littlest pookie!”

“Oh my, my, thank you for showering me with so much love. I love you very much.”

“You look like a strawberry with your red cheeks. I love you berry much!”

“Stop- I can’t help smiling!”

“I’ve been gifted with the best wife ever. Like, ever. My heart is just exclamation marks when you’re around.”

You kiss each of her cheeks and hug her tightly, snuggling in her arms. She kisses your forehead, wrapping the two of you in a heavy blanket. Patting your head, she says, “Good night, Y/N.”

Lightly, you kiss her shoulder and rest your head on her again. “Night, pookie.”

“You’re not letting that name go, are you?”

“Mhm.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fluff #mcu wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x y/n #scarlet witch x you #elizabeth olsen x reader

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ateliersss · 6 months

Text

Where Do You Think You're Going?

Pairing: Vladimir Makarov x Fem!Reader Summary: You try to leave him... Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: Abusive and Toxic Behavior, English isn't my first language Word Count: 2.283

"And where exactly do you think you're going, moya dorogaya?" He asked, in that terrifying calm, cold voice you've become so familiar with.

The voice that now sent a shiver down your spine and instilled a sense of dread deep in your gut used to make you feel at the top of the world.

You and Makarov had been a couple for almost five years now, but recently he had become dangerously possessive and overprotective, making you almost suffocate in the invisible grip he had you in.

You bit down on your lower lip, but you didn't stop grabbing your clothes from the closet of your shared bedroom to throw them into your suitcase lying on the king-size bed.

"Away." You simply answered him.

Makarov's demeanor shifted instantly, from indifferent and collected to a cold but calm fury.

He chuckled in that unforgiving tone of his. "And where are you off to?"

He leaned against the door frame of your bedroom, tall and imposing, blocking your way to escape the room should you zip up your suitcase and grab it to leave.

"Anywhere. Primarily away from you." You answered curtly and walked over to your vanity table to collect your perfumes, cremes and lotions.

"And why would you want to get away from me?" Makarov asked as he watched you pack your stuff into the small toiletry bag, your back turned to him.

You ignored him.

His grimace turned into a sinister snarl at your lack of an answer before he pushed himself away from the door frame and moved towards you, towering over you, making his presence felt in a very deliberate and intimidating manner.

He wrapped his arms around your middle section from behind and pressed his torso to your back, leaning down for his lips to reach your ear.

"Don’t you love me? You do love me, don’t you?” He asked, his tone low.

Your movements came to a halt, your head slowly looking up to see both of your reflections in the mirror of the vanity.

Although his head was turned down for his mouth to reach your ear, his eyes pierced yours in the mirror. They looked menacing and warningly at you. It sent shivers down your spine and forced you to look away.

"Of course I love you... but I just can't do this anymore." You said, your throat dryer than the Sahara desert.

"Why?" Makarov questioned softly, his lips mere millimeters away from your ear.

His arms around you, hugging your stomach, tightened in a painful way, which knocked air out of your lungs. His breath tickled the edge of your neck.

"Do you not enjoy being pampered and spoiled with big gifts and expensive things? Do you not enjoy being treated like a princess? Like a queen?"

That was his usual way of manipulation when he noticed even the slightest form of resistance coming from you; guilt tripping and gaslighting.

As he watched your reflection in the mirror, he took in how vulnerable and small you appeared, which gave him a sense of resurance.

"Did you not like it when we went shopping and you spend my money on nice, pretty things? Or when I took you to those lavish parties and showed you off to those disgusting, perverted associates of mine who lusted after you and gave you their undevided attention? Or when I made love to you for hours anywhere, any time?"

When you wouldn't reply again, one of his hands shoot up to grab your chin and push it up surprisingly soft so your eyes would meet in the mirror.

"Answer me."

You let out a sigh and looked defiantly at his reflection. "Of course I love it, but that's not the point."

You had a hard time to speak since his arm, which was still wrapped around your middle, exerted a tight pressure on your belly and made it hard for you to breathe properly.

"I'm thankful for everything you do for me. I enjoy the expensive things, the vacations, the way you finance my hobbies, but... but that's not the reason I fell in love with you."

"Hm, enlighten me then." Makarov replied, his arm easing their tight hold on your stomach, allowing you to breathe easier again.

"What exactly was the reason?"

"I fell in love with you because you were you. You treated me like no man before, even though with your reputation. You are different around me, not much but enough to make me feel special."

You shook you head with a sigh.

"But why do you have to lock me into a golden cage like a bird?"

Makarov chuckled like you were a stupid little child who still didn't understand a simple thing although he had explained it a dozen times already.

"I do this because I want you all to myself, moya dorogaya." He whispered into your ear, his words erupting a warm tingle in your belly.

He stroked your hair out of your face.

"I also do this to protect you from danger." He added, his voice soothing. "I don't want the world to snatch the only thing that brings me joy."

Makarov planted a kiss on your temple which almost made you melt.

"The world can be a dangerous place for a beautiful, delicate flower like you."

"I can take care of myself, Vladimir. You know that." You scoffed.

"I don't doubt that. You are smart and gorgeous and determined, but you're also naive, moya dorogaya. You have no idea what my enemies would do to you if they knew that you existed and where you were."

Nothing, but the harsh truth in Makarov's words.

"So, I think I know better what's good for you than you do."

He kissed you again, this time on your cheek, which made it harder for you to remain stern as the familiar sensation of his lips on your skin were so distracting.

His fingers left your chin and slowly traced down your arm, leaving light goosebumps on your skin.

"Who knows what will happen if I ever let you go out alone."

Another way of manipulating you; scaring you with the harsh consequences that come with being with such a dangerous man like Makarov while also soothing you with sweet words and gentle caresses.

But you didn't plan to give in.

"You could accompany me, or send one or two of your best men with me. I can't stay in this house any longer, Vladimir. It's either that..."

A deep breath, your eyes glancing to the suitcase on your bed in the mirror.

"Or I'll leave you for good."

The corners of his lips curled up into a cruel smile.

Before you could even blink an eye, he had his hand wrapped around your thoat, blocking you air ways.

With panic widdened eyes, you reached up to grab his wrist and dig your manicured nails into his skin, which didn't make Makarov falter for a second.

"No other man will ever be able to make you as happy or as fulfilled as I do. All the gifts I gave you, all the diamonds and pearls I put on your pretty fingers and deliacte neck, all the dresses and shoes I bought you, all the vacations I took you on, and all the sweet words I speak to you and you threaten to leave me…"

He laughed in that arrogant and self-assured way that made your skin crawl while his cold eyes never left yours.

"If you ever decided to leave me, moya dorogaya, I would hunt you down and make you regret the day that you were born."

You wanted to reply, wanted to plead with him to let you go so you could breathe again, wanted to say anything at all, but the only sound that left your mouth was a high-pitched groan.

You quickly grew lightheaded, the corners of your view starting to blur and darken.

Makarov's smile widened as he watched the losing focus of your eyes.

He took a sadistic joy in controlling the situation, took a sadistic joy in the fact that he was in charge, took a sadistic joy in the fact that he was terrifying you.

He wanted you to feel the consequences of standing up to him.

But there was also a part of him that was only reserved for you, his darling, which made him loosen his grip, allowing you to breathe again. In an instant, you eagerly took big gulps of air into your lungs.

"I've treated you with nothing but love and respect, moya dorogaya. I would expect the same in return."

When enough oxygen returned to your brain, you looked at his reflection. Although you wouldn't admit it, you were thankful that he was standing behind you, holding you up, because you doubt your legs were stable enough to hold your whole weight on their own.

"My love for you is unconditional. There's nothing in the world I wouldn't do for you, you know that." He continued.

With his hand still on your throat, his long pale fingers still wrapped around it, he pulled your body flush against his. He pressed the side of his head against yours so he could whisper into your ear.

"But..." He started, "I expect the same level of commitment and devotion in return."

Still keeping his gaze locked on your shared reflection in the mirror, he placed a soft kiss on your ear shell.

"I want you to remember that every time you consider disobeying me, moya dorogaya... every time you even think about leaving this house just for a second..."

His gripped around your throat tightens again.

"Or even considering leaving me..."

He inhaled deeply the rose scent of your shampoo, the sweet aroma of your perfume, before he chuckled as his lips brushed against your ear again.

"It won't happen with you being alive."

You could feel it deep inside you, your heart cracking.

Who was this man?

Because you certainly didn't recognize the Vladimir who had looked at you in annoyance but also slight amusement when you had tripped over nothing and had spilled his drink into his lap.

You didn't recognize the Vladimir who would have had punished any other person that wasn't you for ruining his suit, but instead had asked for your name and what your favorite drink was.

You didn't recognize the Vladimir who had send the strange men sitting with him away with one simple wave of his hand just so he could talk to you throughout the rest of the night although you were still working.

You didn't recognize the Vladimir who had visited the bar you were working at more frequently after that.

(You had never questioned, never even thought about it, why your boss never had said anything when you stopped working just so you could talk to and drink with this handsome man.)

You didn't recognize the Vladmir who had sent dozen of roses to your small and shabby apartment. Although you had been creeped out that he knew where you had lived and that he had broken in so easily, the emotion you had felt at such a pricey and romantic gesture had been bigger.

Where was that Vladimir?

It was as if you had fallen deeply in love with a completely different version of Vladimir Makarov, one that didn't exist anymore.

Or had never existed in the first place.

The man you had fallen in love with was caring, sweet, affectionate and respectful.

But there was no trace of these positive characteristics in the Vladimir Makarov standing right behind you, with his hand around your neck and his thumb pressing on your pulse point.

"You understand me, moya dorogaya?"

With tears prickling in your eyes, you nodded.

There's a tinge of regret in his voice as he replied, "Good girl."

Even though he was a man of violence and terror, he didn't enjoy to seriously harm the only person on this planet that brought him happiness.

But to keep you forever, he had to do certain things even though he didn't like it. If scaring you into submission was the only way of keeping you for himself, he wouldn't hesitate.

He squeezed your throat one last time as a warning, before he harshly let go of you.

The force of him letting you go yanked you forward. You couldn't catch yourself with your hands in time, resulting in your upper body crashing against your vanity and your forehead smashing against the mirror.

You cried out in pain.

The sound of distress tugged painfully on his heart strings, but Makarov fought against the urge to check on you or even apologize.

When he noticed your hands reaching up to brace themselves on the surface of the vanity table to hoist your body up, he was by your side in a milisecond.

His thighs pressed against the back of yours, his crotch against the swell of your ass. One of his hands gripped your waist to push your hips painfully against the edge of the table, probably bruising your soft skin. His other hand gripped the back of your neck and pinned you down.

"Never ever even utter a word of leaving me again. Okay, moya dorogaya?"

Then, with one last harsh push to underline his words, he let go of you, his jacket swirling as he spun around to leave the bedroom.

He didn't even turn back to look at you one last time, despite you crying out in pain and tears running down your cheeks, and slammed the door shut.

Your sobs penetrated the closed door and followed him down the hall.

#vladimir makarov #vladimir makarov x reader #vladimir makarov x you #modern warfare #call of duty

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