therealmylesmorales

[therealmylesmorales]

A Fleeting Moment

Note: This is an AU of the AU. This is using Sixteen Candles characters but it’s does not have any affiliation or connection to the storylines and drabbles. It’s completely au. 

FOR MY ANON BESTIE

Read sixteen candles here on a03

Warning: breastfeeding and a bit of age regression from Bunny. Spanking (not done by Nat/Wanda) and child abuse in general. Also mentions of SA by a minor. 

Bunny can pinpoint the moment like a location on a map. She can remember the first time she hid within herself, protecting what was left of her sanity, for the sake of staying alive. When she was nine years old her father died. She got the news on a Wednesday afternoon. She slid into the backseat of her mother’s car, wondering why her older sister was driving when she noticed the tense mood. She sat back in her seat, watching the trees go by, as they drove. She was silent the entire way home. The somber feeling of the car unsettled her. She walked into her home with excitement. Her teacher stuffed her very first report card of the year into her backpack and she wanted to show them. She struggled with math and her dad stayed up with her some nights to help her. He never got angry with her or yelled at her. He simply found the tools to help her thrive. She was more than ready to show him the fruits of their labor. She raced into the kitchen first, her backpack slapping against her back, as she searched for her parents. She skidded to a comical stop as she saw her mother bent over the counter, her older sister, Brie, holding her mother in her arms as she cried. 

“Mommy,” Bunny asked. She stepped around her sister to tug at her mother’s shirt. “Mommy, are you okay?” Sherry looked down at her with tears in her eyes. She was distraught and hurt. Bunny, having never seen her mother so upset, wanted nothing more than to make it better. 

“No, baby, I’m not okay.” Sherry sniffled. She wiped at her eyes before grabbing onto Bunny's arms. She looks into her eyes. His eyes. “Your daddy. He was sick.” 

“Sick how?” Bunny tilts her head. 

“Your daddy had cancer, baby,” Sherry continues. She swallows thickly. 

“Like the bald kids in the commercial?” She questions and Sherry nods. “So he’s getting medicine from the doctor, right? They can make it better.” 

For a moment Sherry wants to smile at her daughter’s innocence. She wants to cry at having this conversation with her daughter. 

“No, y/n, they can’t make it better.” Sherry doesn’t know the right thing to say. She doesn’t know how to tell her daughter that her father, her husband, stopped his treatments because he was in too much pain. He hid it from her to allow her to enjoy as much of her childhood as she could. “They can’t make it better this time. Daddy passed away. He’s not coming back.” Bunny’s lips curled, her chin quivered, and her tears fell as she cried silently. She leaned into her mother, reveling in the feel of Sherry’s arms, as the words sunk in. 

“He promised,” Bunny whispered into her mother’s shoulder. “He promised he would take me to the game. I don’t even like it but I can like it for him.” Bunny pulled back. “Tell him. I’ll sit and I won’t ask to leave and I won’t go to the bathroom too many times. Please, tell him.”

Sherry’s shoulder shook as she tried to keep in her sobs. “I can’t tell him, baby. I can’t. He’s gone.” Faster than she can react, Bunny pulls away from her mother. She runs up the stairs and into her parent’s bedroom. She searches far and low for the man in question only to come up empty. His side of the bed is perfectly made. His shoes still standing next to his dresser. His wallet is on the nightstand. Bunny comes over to the nightstand. His wedding ring sits on the dresser right next to the rest of his belongings. She only wants to touch it. To feel him with her. She takes a hold of the rings to turn over in her hands. 

He promised. 

A week later, the funeral has come and gone. Bunny has said goodbye to her father. She sits patiently in the living room of her home as people enter and exit. No one pays too much attention to her as they mingle and talk amongst themselves. Most of them glance at her and whisper. She knows what they’re saying. 

He dind’t tell her. No one told her. 

She was clueless as can be up until a week ago. She never knew her father was sick. She resents all of them for not telling her. She misses him. His smile. The way his eyes would crinkle whenever he was amused by something. She misses the way he smelled. The way he always brought joy into their lives. Bunny picks at her simple black dress. Her hair is pinned into a tight ponytail at the base of her head. Her shoes, black Mary Jane shoes, top off the outfit. She’s dressed so perfectly wehn everything inside of her feels like a mess. She stands from the couch to find her mother. Sherry is in her bedroom, surrounded by her older sisters, when Bunny enters. She’s crying to herself, as the other girls try and comfort her. 

“Hey, go downstairs and play with the other kids,” Brie instructs. 

“I want to be with Mommy,” Bunny ignores her to come and stand next to her mother. “Mommy, can I stay here?” Sherry simply looks at her and crumples. She turns away from the little girl to cry into her hands. 

“Go, Bunny, she’s not in the mood.” Brie tries again. 

“She hasn’t talked to me all week,” Bunny says defiantly. “I just want to sit with her. She’s my Mama too.” She stands with her arms folded. What used to be a way to annoy her siblings seems to do even worse. Brie doesn’t react. She simply stands there. 

“Go,” Sherry says in a hushed tone. “Go to your room, go outside, go sit down. I don’t care just please go.” She says. Bunny’s heart drops. She only wants to be with her family. She wants them to hold her. To be with her. She doesn’t want to be alone. She certainly doesn’t want to play with the other kids. “Go!’ Sherry shouts, pointing to the door. Bunny jumps into action, leaving the room with tears in her eyes. She doesn’t go to her room this time. At least, not to stay. She grabs her favorite stuffed animal, Bunny II. It’s the one her dad gave her. It still smells like him. If they wanted to be left alone she could do that. She steps into the hallway with measured steps. She counts to herself how many. Finally, she reaches the bathroom. She closes and locks the door. She climbs into the bathtub, pulling the curtain close, not caring if she messes up her dress, her hair, or her stockings. She squeezes Bunny II to her as she cries. 

She may be nine years old but she’s not stupid. Mama doesn’t want her. She never has. She has been able to tell since she was little. She treats her differently than all of the sisters. She yells at her more. Acts as if she is a burden. Maybe Daddy noticed too. Maybe that’s why he made the extra effort to be with her. Bunny lets her tears slip out onto the cold flooring of the bathtub. She brings her knees to her chest to lie in the fetal position. She stuffs her thumb into her mouth, sucking stronger, as she pulls at her ear. It doesn’t make her feel better. At least not all the way. It would work for now. Her body begins to feel weaker. She can’t stay awake for too long as her eyes flutter closed. 

Hours later, Bunny wakes up by banging at the door. 

“y/n, are you in there?” It’s Danielle. She knocks again, and again, and again. Bunny lifts to look at the door, not wanting to answer, as the knocking gets harder. If she doesn’t answer they’ll worry. 

A part of her says let them. They didn’t care if she was alive anyway. They never care. When the knocking becomes excessive, she climbs from the tub with Bunny II dangling from her left hand. She turns the lock and twists the knob open to find her family looking back at her. She’s met by her mother’s enraged hands shaking her. 

“Have you been in here this whole time?” Sherry shook her. “Answer me?” She didn’t care that Bunny seemed afraid of her anger. “Hello! Answer me. Why didn't you say anything? We’ve been looking for you for hours.”

Bunny simply whimpers. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Sherry asks incredulously. “What are you sorry for? You know better. Don't just disappear.”

Bunny’s lip trembles but she doesn’t cry. She stands, with Sherry’s tight grip on her arms, and a blank expression on her face. 

“Take these wet clothes off and go to bed,” Sherry releases her.

Bunny nods to herself. This was going to be her new normal. 

The next time Bunny regresses is when she’s eleven years old. She’s sitting at the dinner table, refusing to eat, and getting lectured about it. Her mother has been giving her disapproving looks all night while everyone else around her does what they're told. She pushes her plate away with a pout sitting against the back of the chair. 

“Y/n, you’re not getting anything else,” Sherry warns her. “So you eat that or you go to bed hungry.”

“Hungry,” Bunny supplies and Mike smacks his lips. “I can go to bed hungry.” 

“No, you’re going to sit and eat the food, even if you have to be here all night,” Mike steps in. He’s been dating her mother for a year. Long enough for him to think his opinion matters in htis household. Apparently, it does. 

“I don’t want it,” Bunny looks ot her mother pleadingly. She slams her fork against the table. 

“See that’s the problem,” Mike says. He looks to Sherry to back him up. “She does what she wants. No one else here acts like this but her. You need to whoop her ass and then make her eat it. Don’t give her a choice. Eat the food. I’ve said it not her. I’d like to see you give me attitude like you do her.” His tone of voice isn’t welcoming or loving at all. His words push Bunny into action. She mashes her fork into the mashed potatoes, forcing herself to swallow them down between her tears. She doesn’t like peas. Her mom knows that. “When I was growing up I wasn’t allowed to tell my parents what I would or wouldn't eat.” Mike goes on and on. 

Bunny shovels more and more food into her mouth, finally pushing the plate away before she can finish. 

“I don’t want to,” She whispers. 

“Come over here a second,” Mike beckons her over. Bunny looks over to her mother for help but Sherry clearly agrees with him. Bunny reluctantly stands from her seat to come to Mike. “I can tell you have an attitude with what I told you right now.”

“I don’t,” Bunny shakes her head. “I just don’t like it.”

“Every time I come here you don’t like it and she lets you get away with it,” Mike frowns. “She worked hard to make you food and you sit and act very ungrateful. She already gave me permission to whoop you. I just haven’t yet. I think tonight I might have to.”

“No,” Bunny shakes her head. 

“No, what?” Mike asks. “Everyone else at this table is sitting here. You’re the only one that has a problem. You always have a problem.” 

“I don’t have a problem,” Bunny balls her fist unconsciously as her feelings get the best of her. Why was it such a big deal for her to eat? She doesn’t want it. She’s not hungry. She can just go to her room like always. 

“And you’re balling your fist up at me,” Mike is angry. “What are you going to hit me or something?” He stands, towering over Bunny, as he gets a bit closer to her face. “Don’t you ever ball your fists up at me or I’ll show you what it really means to be grown since you want to act like it.” Bunny’s tears come faster now as she tries to calm her breathing. “Now, I gave you a chance to sit there and eat, and you didn’t.” Bunny can see her siblings sitting, avoiding her gaze, as she receives her punishment. “Go, and sit down. You’re going to sit here until everyone is done.” He instructs with a poke to her chest. Under normal circumstances, Bunny would have rubbed the aching spot. Instead, she rushes to her chair, with her head down. She rubs her arms, hoping to keep quiet, as she cries. 

She can tell it’s making everyone else at the table uncomfortable but she doesn’t care. 

It’s another half hour when Mike lets her go to her room. She felt all cried out as she tucks herself into the wall against her bed. She pushes her thumb into her mouth, eyes squeezed shut, as she hopes to shut out the rest of the world. Somewhere far away she can hear Faith enter their shared bedroom. She’s too far gone to respond to her. 

She doesn’t feel like herself. Her headaches. Like a constant pressure that can’t be relieved. Bunny cries herself to sleep for what feels like the millionth time in her life. 

*******

Over the years, as the pain never leaves her, Bunny finds those fleeting moments to bring her comfort. When she can calm down and not think about anything else but what makes her feel good. She does it more often as she becomes older. Her brain feels younger with the same constant ache. 

When she’s adopted by Natasha and Wanda she tries to hide it. She really did. She would hide in her bedroom whenever she felt like she needed a moment to herself. She would suck her thumb, and count the tiles on the wall, or sing a song to herself in her head. Everything she wishes she had someone else do for her. Bunny is a few months shy of her sixteenth birthday when she finds a viral video of breastfeeding on her Facebook page. She passes over it once before scrolling back up. She’s entranced, intrigued, and startled by the feelings inside of her. She listens to the narrator talk about the bond, the nutrients, and the emotions it brings forth for both mother and child. She finds herself for the first time in her life upset by something so innocent. She slams her laptop closed, leaving it to rest on her desk, as she returns to her homework. 

Days past and her interest only grows

Why did it make her feel this way? 

Some nights, Natasha or Wanda would tuck her into bed. She’d find comfort in the form of cuddling with her mothers. Her nightmares seemed to be getting worse. Other nights, Bunny would allow herself to regress. She learned that word a while ago. She doesn’t know how old she is when it happens. She only knows that being in this space made her feel better. It felt safe. No one could hurt her when she felt like this. 

Bunny’s cravings for comfort only grew. She would research and watch videos and research more. Whenever she had a long day, she would find a blanket, and cover herself, pushing her thumb into her mouth and imagining it was her Mama. Her eyes popped open at the new revelation. Her interest was something entirely different. She wants it. She needs it. She’s too old to want something like that though. If someone found out they’d make fun. Another thing on the list of things wrong with her. So Bunny’s desire goes untouched. She’s content with her thumb-sucking and her imagination for now. 

Until one night, she’d had a particularly bad nightmare. She’s been crying out in her sleep, sweating dripping from her forehead, as she thrashes around. She’s ripped from her dreams by a cool compress against her forehead and another hand caressing her cheek. She opens her eyes to find Wanda’s understanding ones looking back at her. Her eyes flash over to the lamp on her nightstand that’s been turned on. 

She whimpers. 

“Shh, sweet girl,” Wanda gives her a soft smile. “Mama’s here. You had a nightmare.” Her voice is sweet honey to Bunny’s ears. Bunny doesn’t move, she simply watches Wanda work around her before the other woman crawls into bed with her. Bunny doesn’t hesitate to tuck herself into Wanda’s arms. She lays her head directly onto Wanda’s breast, using it as a soft pillow, as she cries to herself. “Hey, it’s okay.” Wanda traces patterns into her forearm. “You’re not there anymore. You’re here with me and Mommy.”

“Mommy?” It’s the only word Bunny can mutter. 

“She’s out on a mission, a last-minute thing,” Wanda explains. “She had to but she misses you a lot. Don’t you miss her?”

Bunny nods. She’s too afraid to speak. She doesn’t know if speaking will help her right now. 

“You’re not very talkative tonight, huh?” Wanda doesn’t find a problem with that. “That’s okay. We can just lie here.” At Bunny’s shift, she knows there is a problem. She can feel the way Bunny’s fingers trace along the hem of her shirt. She raises it up enough for the young girl to touch the entire expanse of her belly. “It’s called skin-to-skin. A lot of babies do it to bond with their mothers.”

“Me?” Bunny says. Her limited vocabulary is a bit concerning to Wanda but she chalks it up to her being sleep deprived. 

“If it helps you,” Wanda encourages. “I think of you as my baby already.” She shrugs. “We all need something to ground us sometimes.” Wanda’s words soothe her. She talks about any and everything as Bunny’s movements stop. Her hand now lies flat on Wanda’s belly, just inches away from her breast, as the girl falls asleep again. 

Wanda doesn’t think of the moment again. In the morning, Bunny is back to her talkative and loving self. She eats with Wanda, watches a movie with her, and even takes a dog on the walk. There’s no indication of her nightmare last night. There usually isn’t. When Natasha returns home, Bunny is in her arms before she can drop her bags. 

“I missed you that’s all,” The teen says when Natasha gives her a surprised look. 

It’s a week later when Natasha discovers what’s on her laptop. She’s come into the girl’s room to put her laundry away. She places folded clothes in their appropriate drawers before she goes to leave. Bunny left it open to go and shower before they left for the Avenger’s Compound. Tony was having a family picnic of sorts. Natasha isn’t intentionally snooping. She simply wants to close the laptop when the headline of the article catches her eye. 

Breastfeeding Mothers and inducing breastfeeding. 

Natasha reads over the line a few times. Was Bunny pregnant? No way. They would have noticed. So why was she looking at this? Natasha doesn’t find it weird. No. Not at all. She just doesn’t understand. She decides to leave the laptop alone and maybe mention it later. 

At the picnic, Bunny sits with Lila and Cooper as they catch up with each other. From time to time, she glances over to Thor and Jane’s newborn baby. He’s a couple months old now. Jane is none the wiser to Bunny’s longing looks as she feeds baby Elias with a blanket for privacy. Natasha on the other hand does notice it. 

What was going on with her?

Natasha mentions it to Wanda later on in the night. 

“I’m telling you, she was staring quite hard,” Natasha pushes the covers back on the bed so she can climb in. She’s talking to Wanda who is standing in the bathroom brushing her teeth. Her only responses thus far have been “yep” and “oh wow” as she listens to her wife’s theory. 

“I don’t think she’s pregnant but I’m concerned,” Natasha finishes. Wanda peeks her head from the bathroom to look at her. 

“If you’re really that concerned we can talk with her,” Wanda shrugs. She doesn't see the big deal. A teenager being curious about such a natural part of life didn't concern her. 

“No, I don’t know,” Natasha tries to figure out what is going on with you. “It’s not like anything bad can come from it? I guess. I’m just curious about the reasons behind her being so curious, you know? Nothing serious.” 

“Well, we can keep an eye on her and if it becomes a thing then we can say something.” Wanda flicks the switch in the bathroom. She climbs into bed with Natasha. She cuddles into her and Natasha automatically wraps her arms around her. 

It’s totally become a thing. Bunny’s behavior, in general, has become a thing. No, there’s nothing she’s done wrong, but Wanda’s began to notice things. Like how she leaves her blanket and Bunny II lying around the house, or how her taste buds have certainly regressed to that of a three-year-old, and sometimes at night, she wants to cuddle with her more. She doesn’t hesitate to press herself into Wanda’s side and rests her hands against Wanda’s bare belly. Wanda notices the increasing glances to her chest. 

It’s kind of hard to miss when anyone does it but when a sixteen-year-old girl does she’s concerned. So she brings it up to Natasha. 

“Could she be wanting to breastfeed?” Wanda asks one day while they’re in the kitchen. At Natasha’s look, she throws the idea out of the window. “I know it sounds crazy but that may explain it.”

Natasha thinks for herself. All of Bunny’s behavior would explain it. 

“You might be right Wanda but what do we do with that?” She’s just as lost as her wife. “I don’t want to bring it up and make her feel bad about it.” 

“We do so gently,” Wanda sighs. “With care and with compassion.”

“You always know what to say,” Natasha murmurs into Wanda’s neck as she sits on her lap. “I love you. I love the way you love her.” 

“I love you too,�� Wanda replies. 

How could they help? By doing research. 

Natasha and Wanda both did research. Together and separate. They came up with no links at first until Natasha stumbled upon something called age recession. Most research was geared towards children of younger ages. Bunny’s situation is different. Entirely different. With all of the tools they needed, they decided to let things happen naturally. If outside help was needed they would seek it but for now, they wanted Bunny to come to them. 

The moment arises when Bunny has another nightmare. This time she’s reserved and more into herself than before. They can’t get her to calm down no matter what methods they try. Until Wanda remembers how much skin-to-skin contact has helped before. She rips her shirt over her head and tosses it somewhere across the room. She’s now in her bra and sleep shorts. 

“Bunny, I’m going to help you take off your shirt now,” Wanda says hoping to get through to the young girl. “Can you nod your head if you hear me?”

Bunny gives a slight nod but doesn’t offer anything more. She allows Natasha and Wanda to take off her shirt before she rushes into Wanda’s waiting arms. She lies her head directly on Wanda’s chest as she struggles to breathe. Feeling Wanda’s warm skin against her arms and chest, calms Bunny considerably. The ache in her head is at the forefront of her mind but she tries to push it down. 

“Mama,” Bunny hwimpers and Natasha shushes her from behind. “Mommy.”

“We’re both here this time,” Ntasha assures her. Bunny continues to cry in theri arsm. When her breathing is back to normal, Natash ais the one to bring it up. “Bunny, how old are you right now?” She wonders if this is the right question as bunny stiffens.

“Sixteen,” Bunny answers. 

“Do you feel sixteen?” Wanda tries again. There’s a silence as they wait for Bunny’s answer. 

“I don’t know,” She’s panicking again. “I don’t know. I do but sometimes i feel younger. Like I need more.”

“More than what we’ve been giving you?” Natasha guesses and Bunny nods. “I’m not mad. Mama isn't mad either. I found your breastfeeding articles.” Bunny begins to remove herself from Wanda’s arms but she’s stopped by Wanda’s tighter hold. “We’re not mad baby. We just want to understand you.”

“I’m sorry,” Bunny whimpers. “I made it weird. I’m weird.”

“You’re not weird,” Wanda frowns. “You’re not weird for wanting it either. Do you age regress?”

Bunny shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so.” She answers in a small voice. “It’s not like how I’ve seen. I don’t know. I don't want to dress up like I’m younger or do all of those things I don’t know.” She can feel herself becoming worked up again. “I don’t need to. I just sometimes it makes me feel better.”

“What makes you feel better?” They’re allowing her to lead the conversation in whatever direction she needs to. 

“Sucking my thumb,” Bunny confesses. “And my blanket, and Bunny II. I still feel like myself but younger. If that makes sense. I still am fifteen but I just need more.”

That makes perfect sense to them. She wanted to be nurtured and cared for. She needs that extra comfort sometimes. For some people, it was voluntary and involuntary for others. It seems that Bunny was more than aware of her feelings and what age regression looked like for her. 

“By more, do you mean breastfeeding?” Wanda questions. She can see the look of embarrassment on Bunny’s face. “It’s okay if you do.”

“You won’t think I’m weird?” Bunny looks up at her with wide eyes. “You won’t send me away? I can stop. Being that way I mean.”

“If you stop will that help?” Natasha figures this coping mechanism has helped Bunny through a lot. 

“No,” Bunny bites the inside of her cheek nervously. “I just… since I was younger I would feel different. Especially when I’m afraid. Like I needed someone to hold me and make me feel better. Like I need to be cared for. I do it on my own.” She wants to assure them that she isn’t asking for something they aren’t willing to give. She doesn’t need them to do anything. 

“But what if you don’t have to,” Wanda prods. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Mommy and I were talking,” Wanda takes a breath. “And we would be willing if it's something you want. It could be our thing.”

“A secret?” Bunny questions. 

“A good secret, Malyshka.” Natasha rubs her back.

Bunny goes over the pros and cons in her head. She’s been with Natasha and Wanda long enough to know they’re not joking. They’re being sincere. Someone finally knows how she’s feeling and she’s thinking about giving up the chance. She glances at Wanda’s chest before looking back into her eyes. She doesn’t want to make things awkward for her mothers.  

“Can I think about it?” She asks. 

“Of course.” Wanda kisses her forehead. She settles further into Wanda’s arms as she drifts off to sleep. She’s too afraid to think about it any longer. 

Bunny’s home alone with Wanda when she feels it. A sudden wave of anxiety and depression hit her full force. She doesn’t feel good enough, or competent, or anything really. She finds herself thinking bad things. Deciding that she needs a distraction, she takes Bunny II along with her to find Wanda. She finds the redhead in her usual spot on the couch with her knees up as she reads a book. 

“Mama,” Bunny stands against the back of the couch. Wanda closes her book to look at her. “Can we?” She asks. Another wave of anxiety hit her. She’s afraid of Wanda’s answer. Wanda doesn’t need to ask what she’s talking about as she places her book on the coffee table. With a wave of her hand, she gestures for Bunny to come around the couch and lie with her. The positioning is awkward until finally, Wanda decides to lie on her back, with Bunny in her arms. She starts by pushing up her t-shirt. As if Bunny can feel the nerves from her, the girl moves to get up. 

“No, stay, baby,” Wanda encourages. She lifts her t-shirt further up to expose her breasts. Bunny’s eyes immediately drop to look. “You want this?” Wanda asks one last time and Wanda nods. She could do this. With her left hand, she guides Bunny’s head to her chest. She uses her other hand to guide her dusky nipple to closed lips. Bunny’s nervous. She can tell. “It’s okay, baby.” 

Bunny’s lips part, giving an experimental lick before she gently takes the entire bud into her mouth. She suckles weakly, at first, trying to get a feel of it for herself. When she finds she’s more sated than she’s ever been, her suckling becomes stronger.

 Wanda gasps at the sensations and emotions running through her. She’s never felt so close to or loved by her child before. Bunny, a bit startled by the noise, raises her hand to cover her face in embarrassment. Wanda doesn’t like this. She removes Bunny’s hand placing it in the valley between her breasts. She runs her fingers over Bunny’s cheeks and hair. 

“Open your eyes, b.” Wanda waits patiently for thick lashes to flutter and for furrowed brows to straighten as Bunny looks at her. She only feels love as her baby girl looks at her completely satisfied and safe. “Good?” Wanda asks and Bunny nods. She never stops her suckling as she closes her eyes to fall asleep again. 

Her feelings of being unwanted, unloved, and everything else were washed away by the comfort of her mother’s loving arms. 

#wandanat #angst tag #redroomreflections #appreciation reblog

[therealmylesmorales]

They/She Aloy propaganda

#aloy 🫶🏾 #horizon zero dawn #horizon forbidden west #aloy horizon

[therealmylesmorales]

Jonah’s a real one yall I hope he doesn’t die

#tomb raider #Myles gaming adventure

[therealmylesmorales]

Now playing: Rise of the Tomb Raider 🫡

#technically didn’t finish the first one but I’ve seen gameplay of it twice #tomb raider #Myles gaming adventures

[therealmylesmorales]

It's Impolite to Stare

This was an Anon idea truly, so let's all give them a round of applause 👏🏾

Pairings: Kate Bishop x Reader

Tags: BeefCake!Kate Bishop, Some Smut, Mentions of Sex, Sooooo Much Flirting, Fluff, Comfort, Reader is a Huge Simp, Explicit Language

Everything Taglist: @sammy90682 @nobody13 @owloftheshadows @captain-josslett @camslightstories @worldovart @finleyfray @acertainredhead @sammm9068 @reginassecretlover @ara-a-bird

Rhythmic thwacks emanating from outside and the sunlight filtering through the open curtains on the window were what woke you up this morning. You cracked your eyes open, your vision blurry, your mind groggy, and you reached to the side only to discover that the other side of the bed was empty. Kate was already starting her day, and here you were, sleeping in and smiling like an idiot while you wrapped the sheets around your naked body. You were still covered in everything that she did to you last night. Love marks and bites decorated your skin, and your body was still deliciously sore from the way she rocked your body over and over again into the mattress. With a contented sigh, you stretched, something cracking somewhere inside of you, and you got up. After a quick shower, you reached for the red and black flannel that Kate wore yesterday, the one you’d thrown carelessly to the floor when you had…other things on your mind. You didn’t bother with buttoning it up. The garment was bigger on you than on your wife, so you had to roll the sleeves up a bit, but the ends of it hung down to your upper thighs. Next, you found clean underwear and slipped it on before making your way to the kitchen.

If anyone had asked you a few years back if cottage core was your thing, you would have laughed and claimed that the city practically ran through your veins. That was until you met Kate Bishop. Based off what you saw when you first met her, and considering the money she came from, you assumed that she shared the same sentiment. Little did you know that she would move you to upstate New York into a quaint, moderately sized wood cottage that had a great view of the mountains and the rivers that cut through them like the veins beneath your skin. You’d been a little apprehensive, the quiet almost suffocating at first, but it grew on you. The privacy was welcomed. You never knew just how beautiful the night sky was without the light pollution, the sheer number of stars that twinkled in the heavens above stunning you the first night here. You could do whatever you want, and more importantly, be as loud as you wanted to be without having to worry about neighbors. You were surrounded by acres of land that Kate bought. That meant that your nearest neighbors were miles and miles away. That’s how you also discovered just how fun sex in the woods was, especially when Kate had you pinned against a tree. Your back suffered, the bark cutting and scratching into it deeply, but the ends justified the means. The only real downside was that there wasn’t a grocery store nearby, which meant that you both had to hunt and grow your own food. Luckily, Kate knew how to hunt. She always used a bow and arrow, and the years of her mastering archery served her very well. You? You tended to the garden. You didn’t have the stomach for hunting, could never bring yourself to harm an animal. You were better with the vegetables growing from the ground and the fruit hanging from the trees and bushes.

As you went to the kitchen, the thwacking that woke you up grew louder, and through the window, you saw her. Kate was chopping wood outside, and she looked damn good doing it. It was balmy today. The sun shined brightly and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. You could feel how heavy the humidity lingered inside, the flannel almost constricting against your skin. It was a good thing that you were partially nude beneath it. Kate, however, was covered in sweat. She wore her black boots, a pair of tight-fitting jeans that showed all the lean muscles in her legs, and a sports bra. On her hands were tan, leather gloves that were worn and faded from repeated use. You watched her take a step back, inhale a bracing breath, and swing the axe again. You could practically see the way her muscles rippled in her arms and back, the way they visibly flexed and relaxed as she brought the blade down with confidence. You remembered all the nights your fingers dug into those muscles as she held you close, even last night. Kate made you moan when she worked your body into countless orgasms, and you couldn’t help the dreamy smile that overtook your face. As the blade settled into the log and the little splinters of wood rained to the ground, you couldn’t help but notice the veins in her arms.

Kate tied her hair into a messy bun to get it out of the way, but even you could see the flyaway strands of hair plastered to her face as sweat dripped down the sides of her forehead. You smiled as you crossed your arms and leaned against the counter, your eyes taking in the way her abs flexed every time she breathed. You could tell from here that her exertion was fatiguing. From the way her skin colored pink beneath the sun and from the way sweat droplets ran down her muscular arms, stomach, and neck, she’d been out there for a while. When you heard her sigh tiredly, you snapped yourself out of your reverie and watched her as she wiped the sweat off her face with the back of her arm. The axe in her other hand rested on the grass as she leaned her weight against it. Kate’s strength was more than enough to put you under a spell. You’ve seen her burliness in action, had even been on the receiving end of her brawn, and still, you were just as enamored by it as the first time she easily picked you up and pinned you against the wall. You turned your attention to the cabinet and grabbed a water bottle from it. Then, you filled it up with ice and water before you stepped outside to give it to her. You were only a few feet away when she saw movement and turned to face you. Immediately, you noticed the way she cocked a perfect eyebrow as her eyes ran up and down your form. You smirked when you watched her cheeks color a deeper red and you looked at her when she failed to make eye contact with you.

“My eyes are up here, babe,” you said jokingly, and Kate laughed as she tore her stare away from the flannel that, at least, concealed your nipples, but it did very little to hide the rest of your chest from her gaze.

“Is that my shirt?”

You gave her a teasing look as you cocked your head to the side. “I guess now is a good time to admit my affair. No, it belongs to my other girlfriend.”

Kate pursed her lips together, on the verge of another fit of giggles when you shook your head with amusement. Despite how she looked, Kate was a total goofball.

“Well, she better take good care of you,” she replied as she gently took the bottle from your outstretched hold.

“Thanks.”

“Mmhmm.”

She was staring at you again and you noticed the way her eyes traced the marks that she left on you. “God, you look so hot.”

“So do you, stud.”

She gave you a blinding smile as she swung the axe up and let it land lightly on her shoulder to rest there. You took a few steps closer, your expression growing salacious as you stood closer to her. She was taller than you by a few inches, so you did have to crane your head up just to meet her eyes.

“So, what are you doing after this?” you asked, your voice husky with the desire you weren’t even trying to hide.

Kate nibbled her lower lip gently with her teeth. “My to-do list is a mile long.”

“Funny,” you murmured, your finger looping in between her belt and her jeans. You used the advantage to tug her towards you and you made her body press against yours. “I thought that I was your to-do list.”

“Do you want to be cold during fall and winter?”

“You’re practically a space heater, babe.”

And that was true. She boiled in the bed you shared with her, even though she never sweats. You wish that you could say the same for yourself. Kate grabbed your hip with her free hand and used it to press you even closer to her. You loved the way the leather of her glove felt against your skin.

“I’m very sweaty,” she pointed out and you shrugged.

“Joke’s on you. I’m into that. Besides, you don’t point out how sweaty you are when you’re-”

A simple raise of her eyebrows and her smile broadening was enough for you to not finish the salacious sentence. You wrapped your arms around her neck loosely before shrugging your shoulders. “I’m just saying. You’re acting like I would be averse to having you on me because of a little fluid.”

Kate chuckled, her eyes looking away from the log that she was in the middle of chopping before she turned to look at you. “You’re insatiable, you know that? I thought you would be tired after last night.”

You looked into her eyes and scoffed lightly. “Have you tried, I don’t know, maybe not being so great at sex? Maybe then I wouldn’t ask you for more.”

“Be horrible at sex?!” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with fake appall. It made you smile all the more. “So that you can leave me? I think not.”

You laughed with her as she looked down somewhat, her smile not leaving her face completely but still falling slightly. You could feel a shift in her mood, but you couldn’t understand what she was feeling. You cupped her cheek and guided her to look at you again.

“In case it needs to be said. I love you, Kate Bishop, and I love you more for just sex, though it is a wonderful perk.” She giggled and you smiled at her. “You’re the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. You’re my happily ever after.”

When you said it, she gave you a soft look, her blue eyes as crystal bright as the ocean. Kate tossed the axe to the ground before using that same hand to curl a finger beneath your chin. She then used it to tip your head up and back, before she closed the rest of the distance between your lips and hers. Good god...she smelled so good. She felt so good! Despite the sweat that she was so worried about, you released her long enough to rest your hands on her hips. Her lips were soft against yours. They were perfect, like they were made to be there, and you sighed dreamily when she moved them against you to deepen the kiss. When Kate pulled away, you had to take a deep breath, a winded laugh falling from you as she gave you another quick peck on the lips.

“I love you too, Y/n. I’m almost done. I’ll be in shortly.”

You eyed the sizable pile of chopped wood that she had already accumulated, and you looked at her with a quirked eyebrow.

“This one is my last one,” she promised.

You looked at the thick piece of circular wood that rested against a low tree stump. It barely had any deep cleaves in it and you frowned skeptically.

“Kate, you’ll be here forever,” you pointed out. “There’s just enough room to slip your fingers in there, never mind the fact that you’re not even at the halfway point.”

“It’s soft wood,” she said with a shrug. “Easy.”

“Uh, yeah,” you replied with a sarcastic chuckle. “Maybe easy for you at the beginning of your day. At the end? Not so much.”

Kate gave you a smile and stepped back before she leaned over. You watched as the gloved fingers of one hand slipped into the crack, and she used the leverage to lift the wood so that her other hand could join in the tightening space. Shock tore through you when she adjusted her grip and began to pull, her muscles bulging in her shoulders, forearms, and back. With a satisfying deep crack, the log split down the middle as she pulled it apart with her hands. You’ve never seen her do that, and you could only stare as she dropped the two halves to the ground one by one.

Kate rested her hands on her hips as she gave you a cocky smirk.

“You’re a fucking show off,” you said lightly. There was no bite or malice in your voice. The only obvious emotion in you was disbelief.

She held her arms out to her sides, her elbows tucked into her body as she wiggled her fingers. She swayed her body from side to side, almost as though she was about to dance, and she looked at you with the tip of her tongue touching her canine. “Don’t hate me ‘cause you ain’t me, babe.”

You couldn’t stop the roll of your eyes at her words. “Ugh, oh my god.”

The sounds of Kate’s exuberant laughter made you smile even as you left her there to her gloating.

***

As it turned out, some of the wood Kate chopped wasn’t just for the winter months. You left her to finish her tasks for the day, and you went inside to get started on dinner. You finished cooking just as Kate wrapped up, and you had dinner with her. By the time she showered, dressed, and relaxed, you found her on the couch, her eyes staring intensely at something in her hands. You could hear something being shaved, and when you looked over her shoulder, you saw that she was whittling. This was one of her many new hobbies that she took up since moving out here, and you smiled fondly as she meticulously sliced off a thin sliver of wood. You watched as the flake fell to the floor, her fingers turning her small project over so she could see the angles better in the light. Now that she was no longer wearing gloves, you could see the veins on her hands. They were slightly raised, most likely from the heat and physical activity that Kate did, but they were especially prominent right now. More naughty, little thoughts filtered through your head as you thought about all the things those fingers could do to you, but you kept your mouth clamped shut. The muscles in Kate’s jaw rippled when she clenched it, and her throat bobbed when she swallowed, her eyebrows furrowing as she swapped her current tool for a different one.

“You know,” she began, her eyes not leaving the developing statue in her hands. You jumped a little and stood up straight. You hadn’t realized that she knew that you were there. “It’s impolite to stare.”

“Stop being attractive, and I’ll stop staring,” you quipped.

She chuckled lightly as you joined her on the couch. Her hair spilled over her shoulder, the strands already beginning to curl as they dried. You laid back, your head resting on one of the throw pillows, and the moment you settled, Kate pivoted her body to lie down between your open legs. She idly pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, a soft one that tickled you lightly, before the back of her head rested on your lower stomach. She still whittled away as she crossed her legs, her forearms flexing as she sliced off more flakes of wood. You smiled and gently sank your fingers into her hair to play with it and massage her scalp. She hummed and sighed, her eyes briefly shutting when you gently scraped your nails against her.

“That feels great,” she murmured before she went back to her project.

A comfortable silence settled in the air as you relaxed under her. Kate leaned more of her cheek against your thigh as she continued working and you couldn’t help the smile that slowly graced your lips at this moment of intimacy. A little while later, you heard Kate blow the dust off her statue, her fingers wiping off what the puff of air failed to remove.

“Done!”

She didn’t wait for you to say anything. She simply handed the project to you with a weird twist of her arm since she had to reach up and behind, and once it was in your hand you observed what she made. You couldn’t stop the cackle that erupted from your chest as you turned her statue in your hands.

“It’s a penis,” you said dryly as you felt Kate’s laughter against you. “I’m truly the luckiest person in the world.”

Kate laughed some more as she turned over to look at you. Her chin now rested on your stomach as her arms lazily snaked under your thighs to wrap around them.

“I’m the lucky one.”

Kate’s eyes met yours when she said it and you felt warmth and love across your chest. There was a soft moment of stillness, of you just looking at her with love in your eyes, when her gaze slowly pivoted lower, her eyes now darkening with desire as she drank you in. You were still dressed in her flannel, and it fell open a little when you laid down. You had a knowing smile on your face as you watched her expression change, as her tongue slowly licked her lips. Gradually, her movements so unhurried that it was torturous, her hands traveled up your thighs and you shivered at the gentleness of her touch, especially when she placed a kiss against your lower stomach. You felt her fingers hook over the elastic of your underwear before she leisurely pulled them down. Your eyes widened as you watched her undress you, her gaze steady as it held yours, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Right now?” you asked breathlessly. She raised an eyebrow.

“You’re my to-do list, remember?”

A soft chuckle left you, but your breath caught when you felt her heated breathing fan against you. You were already turned on, which is unsurprising given how many times you thought about sex today, but to feel her deepening breaths against you really put into perspective just how wet you were. Kate slid off the couch, and as she did so, she pivoted your body so that you faced forward. When her knees touched the floor, she pulled you closer to her, a breath of surprise leaving you as she finished taking off your underwear. You watched as she flung it to the side without a care in the world.

“The flannel stays on,” she whispered as she closed the distance between her lips and your core.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

She shut her eyes and you sighed when you felt her tongue part your heat. When you slipped your fingers into her hair again, it was to pull her closer to you as your back arched.

#c: kate bishop #fluff tag #appreciation reblog

[therealmylesmorales]

Also would

#until we heal the world together #venom #spider man 2 ps5 #Peter Parker #miles morales #my pics #Myles gaming adventures

[therealmylesmorales]

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story Chapter Three

Natasha Romanoff x Black!Fem! Reader

Note: This is a repost from my since deactivated account Natsxaddiction. I will be adding the shorter stories to here; 20 chapters or less - sorry TLH fans =(

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Chapter 3/20 (A completed story)

Summary: Natasha and Reader are married. They get into an accident where Natasha suffers serious injuries including amnesia. Natasha no longer remembers her life with reader and their children. All she remembers are her days loving Bruce.

W/c: 3.1k

When Natasha awakens she finds herself in an empty bed. She spreads her fingers out over the cool sheets beside her, it lets her know your spot has been empty for a while. She turns her head to see the first few rays of sunlight shining through the windows. She can hear the birds chirping as she closes her eyes again. She stretches all the while yawning. She pushes the sheets down towards her feet. Where could you be? Almost as if you read her mind, the bedroom door opens to reveal you in nothing but a plain white scoop-neck t-shirt that barely reaches your thighs and a plate of food and two cups in your hands. She has to wonder how you’re balancing all of this.

“You’re already awake?” You’re a bit surprised as you step further into the room. You set everything on the nightstand closest to Natasha. Before you have a chance to say anything else, her arms are tugging you to straddle her. She doesn’t mind the weight of you on top of her. In fact, she enjoys it. You struggle with where to place your hands so you opt to leave them by your side. Natasha on the other hand doesn’t.

“Hey,” She murmurs. She runs her hands over your bare thighs, as she finds the waistband of your panties. She pulls the elastic from your skin to snap it back. “You look good in my clothes.” She scrapes her nails down your thighs causing goosebumps.

“Hi back,” You lean down to kiss her lips. Realizing her fingers are traveling dangerously close to your center you sit up again. “Was last night not enough for you?” You smirk. “It’s never enough,” She returns her hands to a safe space.

“I’ll remember that,” You nod. “We have about a half-hour of silence before the girls are awake.” You reach over to the nightstand to take a piece of chocolate chip muffin for yourself. Breaking it in half, you push a piece between her waiting lips. “Good right?” You nod between chewing.

There’s a shared silence between you. You simply chewing while Natasha’s eyes have traveled elsewhere along with her fingers that are again tracing the outline of your center over your panties. She’s insanely horny this morning though you’re not complaining. Not one bit.

“I was on the phone this morning,” You begin and her fingers still. “With my doctor. Just routine stuff and I was asking her about the process of IVF and everything like that.” Natasha looks at you with an eager expression on her face.

“She said that everything looks healthy and we could start whenever we are ready,” You take a deep breath. “Nat, I think that I’m ready.” You finally get it out. She has this wide smile on her face. One that’s only reserved for you. It screams love and adoration. You let out a scream once you’re flipped over. Natasha is quick with her movements. She’s showering your face with kisses as you giggle under her. Finally when she feels like you’ve had enough she kisses you on the lips.

“We’re having a baby?” She questions. She leans over you as she slots herself between your legs.

“Well not at this moment,” You quip. “But yeah, we are.” You nod. Suddenly there’s a knock at the door. You look to the open door of the bedroom and then back to Natasha. “If we ignore it they’ll go away,” She groans. The knocking continues much to your chagrin.

“I don’t think it will,” You sigh. The knocking is louder. Just three taps.

Natasha is torn from her dream, opening her eyes to darkness, as she attempts to breathe deeply. The pain in her side shoots through her and she mutters a curse under her breath. Squinting her eyes, she reaches out for the nightstand finding what feels like a familiar piece of metal. Her phone. It’s new it seems. Not a crack or dent in it. Did you buy it recently? She presses the power button, flooding her eyes with light, to see the time. 9 am. Had she slept an entire day? Everything from last night is a blur. She remembers coming home, you carrying her up the stairs, and then falling asleep. Surely she wasn’t that tired?

Her stomach growls right on time. She has to find the bathroom and then the kitchen. She pushes herself to stand, ignoring every fiber of her being screaming at her not to open the bedroom door. She can hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet on the first floor. The girls are home. There’s another voice along with yours. Maybe a woman. She can’t tell. Deciding that her bladder could wait, Natasha walks over to the steps. She goes down each one getting to the bottom at the same time you close the front door.

You turn around to find her staring back at you. You would be a bit startled if you couldn’t feel her energy. It’s different and you hate to admit that it may have something to do with her memory loss. Either way, it’s not something to address right now.

“Natasha, you’re awake,” You breathe. She’s reminded of her dream and how happy you sounded when uttering those same words.

“I heard the door,” She nods towards the door.

“Oh, yeah, that was my sister bringing the girls home,” You walk over to her in case she needs help. “It’s time for your pain medicine,” You remind her.

“Why’d you let me sleep so long?” She questions as she helps herself to solid ground.

“You seemed tired,” You drop your hands to your side. “The girls are in the kitchen. They’re excited to see you.” You walk with her. You’re not really expecting a response. Natasha’s entire demeanor changes when she sees them. Which gives you a bit of happiness. Olivia and Lily are sitting on the floor, sharing cheerios, and passing the bowl between each other.

Lily spots her first. She abandons her food to toddle over to Natasha and hug her legs. She raises one finger, her sign for up, and you’re there to intercept. You scoop her into your arms to stand close enough to Natasha so that she can give her a kiss. Next is Olivia who’s content with a hug.

“Mama, you’re home from the hospital?” Olivia lifts her head to look up at Natasha.

“Yes, I am,” Natasha caresses her cheek.

“So you’re all better?”

“Not yet but I’m getting there,” Natasha says truthfully. You leave Natasha and the girls to make her breakfast. A simple coffee and pancakes that you’d prepared only twenty minutes earlier. When she’s sitting you hand everything to her along with the medicine bottle. “Thank you.” She says. She wants to talk more with you but the girls take her time. You don’t mind. You have a bit of laundry to do.

You leave the girls to compile everything before going down into the cellar for laundry. You take your time dividing, organizing, and setting the directions to what they need to be. You’re not purposely avoiding Natasha but you’re not in the mood. The past week has also exhausted you beyond belief. There’s been so much back and forth. Between you and Olivia’s school, you and the rest of the team, you and insurance, you and your lawyer, you and Natasha. For now, you’d just like to sleep and rest.

There’s a sharp pain in your stomach and you bend over to relieve the pressure. The stress of it all is becoming a bit much. You rest your hand on your arms, breathing in and out, as you listen to the hum of the washing machine.

“Is everything okay?” Natasha questions and this time you are startled.

You stand up straight, your hand resting on your hip, as you take another breath.

“Jesus,” You look over to her. “Do you need anything?”

“Nope, just taking a tour of the rest of the house,” She purses her lips. You guess that’s fine. Though you can tell when she’s lying. “I have a question and I want you to give me a straight answer.”

“Okay,”

“Are you pregnant?” She gets straight to the point. For a moment, you’re wondering if she’s remembering bits and pieces of life before. That would certainly explain the odd question.

“No,” You shake your head. “I’m not.”

Natasha swallows thickly before nodding.

“What gave you that impression?”

“Steve said something. Don’t worry about it.” She turns back to go upstairs.

“We were trying,” You find yourself explaining. Anything to get her to talk to you. You just miss her is all. “Before the accident.” You continue when she meets your eye again. “We both decided to try for a baby and I’ve been taking hormones and preparing for the first cycle. Our first appointment for insemination was the day after the, um, the accident.” You finish weakly.

There’s an awkward silence.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha apologizes. She doesn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t be,” You finish the folding. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine.” You regret saying that last part. Natasha is going to ask you to elaborate before Olivia comes to the door.

“Mama, Mommy, what you guys doing down there?” Olivia asks.

“Laundry, Mouse.” You answer. “Are you done with your cheerios?”

“Yep,” Olivia answers. “Lily says she has to potty. You have to come quick.” She urges and you know there’s no time to waste.

“I have to get them,” You point to the stairs where you scoot past her. “Explore more if you want.” You encourage. You leave Natasha on her own once again.

She doesn’t step further into the cellar. Instead, she follows the path you’ve taken up the stairs. She does a general sweep all the while listening to the noise the girls make as you help them with the bathroom. She searches the kitchen first. She kneels down, opening the cabinet that leads to the kitchen sink, reaching her fingers to find a locked box. She pulls it towards her, finding there’s a combination before she shakes it. What’s the pin? It’s easy for her really and it comes to her. Yelena’s birthday. 05-23-89. The box pops open to reveal a sleek back gun. A Glock 43x. She closes it quickly, hiding it once again to finish what she started. She finds several more guns scattered around the first floor. No doubt her doing. They’re all locked away in places the girls won’t find. The house is efficiently babyproofed and then some. Next, she checks the security system which is controlled from her office. It’s amazing what this thing does. She knows Tony may have had a hand in building it.

Everything here is so safe. So new. So domestic. From the toys on the floor, the pictures, the decorations. It’s all a bit overwhelming. She doesn’t move from her office chair, clicking out of the many applications she opened, to find a picture of her family as her screensaver. It’s a fall shoot. Had to be recent. You’re all dressed in various shades of brown. Your arm is wrapped around her waist, holding her close, as the girls run towards the camera. There’s pure joy on her face and yours as the photographer snaps a photo. She moves the mouse, scrolling through a few more files when she reaches one titled Top Secret - Do Not Open - Mission Only. Naturally, this piques her interest. She clicks on the file only to realize it requires a password. She attempts Yelena’s birthday again and it’s wrong. This only makes her want to enter it more.

“Mama, what you doing in here?” Olivia interrupts again. Natasha is a bit amused. She’s never had someone want to be with her 24/7. “Working?”

“No, I’m not working,” Natasha denies. “I’m trying to get this file open.” She pushes herself back enough for Olivia to climb into her lap. “You wouldn’t happen to know the password?”

“Um, I don’t know,” Olivia shrugs. “Try Mommy’s birthday. That opens the iPad. I not supposed to play the iPad though. It’s a secret.” She presses her finger to her lip.

Natasha smiles at that. “I won’t tell.” She promises. Natasha clicks through a few of her calendars to find your birthday. She returns to the file, opting to view it in front of Olivia since she can’t read, and low and behold the file opens. There’s a series of pictures and videos that are way too small for her to see. So she clicks on a random video. She and Olivia view it with interest.

It’s you stepping in front of the camera. You’re dressed modestly. A simple trench coat, your hair slicked back into a ponytail, and she can’t see your shoes. Natasha’s eyes narrow when you begin to unbutton the coat. If she were any less aware Olivia would be getting an eyeful as you drop the trench coat to reveal yourself in a thin piece of lacy black lingerie and no bra. Thanks to her quick reflexes she’s able to cover Olivia’s eyes while clicking out of the video.

“Mama,” Olivia whines at her lack of vision. Upon further review of the files, Natasha realizes a lot of these are sex tapes. Varying lengths and scenarios. She has to shoot down the arousal she feels in favor of cutting the computer off. Her snooping was done for the day.

“Liv, where are you?” You call out. Natasha pushes her chair out and away from the desk as Olivia slides down from her lap. You enter the office where you find both of them.

“Mommy, why you didn’t have clothes on?” Olivia asks and you look down at yourself.

“What? What are you talking about?” You ask and Natasha answers for her.

“Nothing, she just saw a random picture of you in a swimsuit I found on the computer,” She lies so easily. You nod though you’re not so convinced.

“I was going to take them on a walk through the neighborhood if you’d like to join,” You offer though you’re not really expecting her to say yes. “It’s just a couple of blocks and it won’t be too rigorous.”

“I think I’m going to hang back,” Natasha says.

“I want to stay with Mama,” Olivia adds and you’re a bit surprised at that. You look to Natasha for confirmation and she nods. It’s fine with her.

“Okay, I’ll be back.” You promise. You take Lily in her stroller, signing to her that you’ll be taking a walk before you head out. The walk is refreshing. You’ve been feeling a bit anxious all day and putting that energy into something that feels productive is best.

Lily seems interested enough. Her head turns every which way, and she waves at strangers, as you walk further into the neighborhood. You don’t have a particular destination in mind. All you know is that you needed to think.

**************************************

Back at home, Natasha is on her very first episode of Peppa Pig. She’s not paying attention. Not truly. It makes Olivia happy and that’s all she's really thinking about. She figures Olivia could be alone for a few minutes. She goes up to the second floor to search for one thing. She finds her phone right where she left it. This time there's no password. She scrolls through her contacts, finding the only one she’s been thinking about, to press call. It rings only three times before someone picks up.

“Dr. Bruce Banner,” He greets.

“Bruce,” Natasha breathes.

“Natasha,” Bruce says back. She can hear him rustling papers in the background. “Hey, how are you? I heard what happened? Is y/n okay? What about the girls?”

“They’re fine,” Natasha answers. “ How are you?”

“I’m good,” He says and Natasha figures there’s something about his tone that he’s not saying.

“Is this a bad time?”

“N-no, it’s just, Natasha you haven’t called me in years,” Bruce explains.

“Yeah, well, I lost my memories and everything went left. The last thing I remember is Ultron,” She shrugs to herself.

“Jesus,” He curses. “Nat, that’s, wow. Retrograde?” He guesses.

“That’s the one,” Natasha’s voice is lower. Like silk. “I was wondering if we could meet up. I figured you wouldn’t lie to me about everything that went down.”

“Why haven’t you asked your wife? She was there.” Bruce says instead.

Natasha furrows her brow. “She said we met during Ultron but she wouldn’t know about everything. Right?”

Immediately Bruce understands the details you kept out. It may be for her own good. Natasha is a lethal weapon. She also has a bit of a temper at times and he’s been on the receiving end of that once or twice.

“Look, Nat, it’s complicated.” Bruce holds the phone to his ear. “I’ll meet with you but I really think you should speak with Y/n first.” He tells her.

“Yeah, I will.” Natasha looks to the bedroom door. “I’ll give you a time and date later.” She hangs up without a goodbye. If you’re hiding things from her she’d like to know. Natasha returns downstairs to sit with Olivia. She’s curious now. She doesn’t like things being hidden from her. She has to know.

*************************

When you return you find what you consider to be the cutest sight ever. Natasha is lying on the couch, Olivia curled into her side, as Peppa Pig reruns play in the background. They’re both clearly tuckered out and you don’t want to interrupt them. Lily is sleeping in her stroller. You opt on taking her to her crib. Then maybe you can shower. Lily doesn’t stir when you set her down. Next is the shower. You strip slowly stepping under the water to allow the heat to ease your aching muscles. Maybe a visit to Wanda where you could cuddle with her was needed.

You close your eyes, leaning your forehead against the cool tile of the shower, and you think about everything that’s happened the past week. You picture yourself in the car, you see Natasha, the music, and the way the steering wheel feels under your hands. Everything feels like it’s right here at your fingertips.

You’re not able to control your breathing and it all becomes too much. You can see the purple forcefield surrounding you as you raise your hands and brace yourself for impact.

The sound of crunching glass is all you hear before you slide down the wall.

Was it all your fault?

When you finally remove yourself from the shower you feel refreshed. You’re dressing when Natasha steps into the bedroom.

“I want you to tell me about everything that happened after Clint’s farm,” She demands. Her voice is not what you’re used to. At least not when it’s directed towards you. She’s Black Widow right now and not any version of Natasha you know intimately. “How did we meet?” She demands.

You’re amazed she hasn’t put it all together by now. You grab your shirt from the dresser to pull it on. Here goes nothing.

#c: natasha romanoff #redroomreflections #series tag #appreciation reblog

[therealmylesmorales]

II HANDS II HEAVEN 6

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.

W/c:4k

Masterlist | General Masterlist

last part

Walking back into the hotel room, the atmosphere shifted noticeably. It was clear Natasha had been somewhat irritated since your departure from the pool area. After a few drinks, you could feel the effects setting in, and you had spent the past few hours playing the role of the devoted, albeit overly enthusiastic, spouse. Add to that the fatigue from earlier road-tripping, and all you wanted now was to fall into bed.

You bypassed changing clothes or freshening up, collapsing into the plush decorative chair directly across from the bed. Stretching out your legs, you nestled the styrofoam container brimming with chicken wings in your lap before eagerly digging in. Eyes closed, you hummed in contentment, savoring the delightful blend of honey barbecue that teased your taste buds.

Meanwhile, Natasha moved about the room with abrupt, almost exaggerated movements, clearly too irritated to engage in conversation. Her actions spoke volumes as she pulled her hair into a tight bun, signaling her need to unpack and decompress.

With a half-lidded gaze, you paused your chicken wing feast to address Natasha. "You know, I think I'd like you to have a nickname for me," you suggested.

"Why bother?" Natasha muttered under her breath, her frustration evident in her tone as she continued with her task, seemingly unwilling to entertain the idea.

With a casual wave of a chicken wing, you made your case. "It shows you love me, that you care for me, that you actually don't hate being around me," you explained, emphasizing your point with a playful gesture. As a droplet of barbecue sauce threatened the fabric of the chair, you skillfully intercepted it, sucking the sauce from your finger with a satisfied hum. Food always tasted much better when under the influence.

“It’s not like this relationship is real.” Natasha raised a brow.

“Okay, rude,” You paused mid-bite, considering Natasha's words for a moment before responding. "Maybe not in the traditional sense," you admitted, your voice softening as you met her gaze. "But that doesn't mean it's not meaningful in its own way. We've shared so much together, haven't we?"

“In what the last two days together? All I know about you is your favorite position and I don’t see how that is helpful,” Natasha shrugged. She was so over this conversation. She stuffed the last of her things into a drawer and turned to you.

With a playful grin, you retorted, "Hey, it's quality over quantity, right? And besides, you're exaggerating. You know way more than just my favorite position." You chuckled watching Natasha’s face and realizing perhaps your attempt at humor wasn't landing as well as you hoped. Natasha's annoyance was palpable, but you couldn't help but find amusement in the situation.

“You’re drunk,” Natasha shook her head.

“I didn’t take you for the passive-aggressive type.” You frowned before biting into another chicken wing.

“Yeah?” Natasha questioned.

“Not at all,” You continued. “Mean. It’s a given. Professional. Check. Flexible even? Though I have only seen it in the gym I’d say that’s a check. But passive-aggressive? Nah.”

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest, taking a deep breath before speaking. "You know," she began, her voice calm but with an edge, "it's not about being passive-aggressive. It's about boundaries. You waltz into my life, acting like it's all a big joke, and expect me to play along with your whims."

She took a step closer, her expression serious. "I get that you're trying to lighten the mood, but there's a difference between being playful and being dismissive. Just because you find this amusing doesn't mean everyone else does."

Pausing for a moment, she glanced at the mess around you, the half-eaten chicken wings, the lingering scent of barbecue sauce, and then back at your face. "And for the record, knowing someone's 'favorite position' doesn't make a relationship. Respect, understanding, and communication do. Maybe you should think about that before asking for nicknames."

With that, she turned back to her task, her movements deliberate and precise, clearly signaling that the conversation was over.

You swallowed slightly before standing from your seat.

“Have a wing,” You offered.

Natasha paused, her back still turned to you, before letting out a long sigh. "I'm not hungry," she replied tersely, continuing to organize her things. The tension in the room was still there, but you weren't ready to let the conversation end on such a sour note.

"Come on," you said softly, taking a step closer. "I'm trying here. I know I mess up sometimes, but I care about this. Can't we just... have a moment of peace?"

Natasha stopped what she was doing and turned around slowly, her eyes meeting yours. There was a flicker of something in her gaze—maybe curiosity, maybe exhaustion. She hesitated for a moment, then walked over and took a wing from the plate.

"One wing," she said, her tone still guarded. "But this doesn't mean everything's okay."

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Fair enough," you said. "It's a start."

Natasha sat on the bed, her body language still stiff and guarded.

"I'm not as drunk as you think. I'm just feeling really good after a long day,” You shrugged. “You’re kind of a buzzkill.” You add, hoping your comment doesn’t come across the wrong way.

"I'm not a buzzkill," She retorted, her tone defensive. "Also, I thought we were past the insults."

"Of course, you're not a buzzkill, especially not when it comes to people you like," You said. “I don’t make the list so it’s only right if you assert your dominance over me or something. Which if you were my real wife I would have taken care of that already.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Natasha tilted her head.

“I’m not trying to be slapped with a harassment demerit or whatever so I’ll keep my comments to myself,” You stood, standing on the tip of your toes as you stretched. Natasha’s eyes followed your movement for only a second more. “I caught some leads today. There’s a bonfire tomorrow we’re going to. We met a new couple. Though I’m half convinced Leslie is too good to be true. That’s progress.”

“I guess it is,” Natasha relented. “I’m going to hit the shower.”

“Leave me some hot water,” You called after her. You stood in the middle of the room and looked around, lost and confused. What to do now?

As Natasha disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the silence, you took a deep breath and decided it was time to fall back into your routine. Years of being a spy had taught you the importance of staying grounded, no matter where you were. You moved with purpose, channeling your focus to maintain a sense of normalcy and readiness.

You quickly checked all the locks and ensured the windows were secure. Double-checking the room for any potential surveillance devices or hidden threats was second nature. Satisfied, you placed a small doorstop under the main entrance for an added layer of security.

You drank a full glass of water and tossed all your trash into the bin.

With the room secure and your immediate tasks completed, you decided it was time to unwind. You picked up a paperback novel from your bag, one of the few comforts you allowed yourself on missions. You settled into the comfortable chair in the corner of the room, the soft lamp casting a warm glow over the pages.

You didn’t know how long it had been, and you didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep. The sound of the shower eventually ceased, and Natasha emerged, looking somewhat more relaxed. She glanced at you and gave a slight nod before heading to her side of the room. You returned her nod with one of your own.

With one last glance around the room to ensure everything was in its place, you turned back to your book, content to spend a few more minutes immersed in its pages before eventually turning in for the night.

You ensured that your shower was as luxurious as the decor suggested. The water temperature was perfect, and the pressure was strong, washing away the grime and tension of the day. You allowed yourself a few moments to enjoy the warmth and relaxation, something you rarely had the luxury to do.

After drying off and changing into comfortable clothing, you took one last glance around the room. Everything was secure and in place, exactly as you left it. The windows were locked, the doorstop was firmly in place, and your equipment was within easy reach.

You glanced over at the bed, where Natasha lay with her back turned toward you, the soft rise and fall of her shoulders indicating she was still awake.

With quiet steps, you approached the bed, the dim light casting soft shadows across the room. You pulled back the covers and slipped in, the cool sheets contrasting with the lingering warmth from your shower. As you settled in, you could feel the tension in the air, a silence hanging between you.

You lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, before finally breaking the silence. "Natasha," you said softly, testing the waters.

She didn't respond immediately, but you could tell she was listening. You waited, giving her the space to speak if she wanted to. After a few moments, her voice cut through the quiet.

"I don't like the nicknames thing," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. "It's not my style."

You turned slightly to face her, even though she remained turned away. "Okay," you replied gently, accepting her words without argument. "I understand."

There was a pause, and you could sense her considering her next words carefully. "It's just... I need things to be straightforward," she continued, her voice softer now. "No games, no pretense."

"I get that. And I'm sorry if I pushed too hard. I just wanted to lighten things up a bit."

Natasha sighed, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. "I know," she admitted. "But maybe we can find another way."

A small smile tugged at your lips. "Yeah, we can do that."

The silence returned, but this time it felt different—less heavy, more understanding.

“I like the touches,” You spoke. Natasha’s head lifted slightly, and though you couldn’t see her in the darkness, you could tell she was looking at you. “What I mean is, “ You continued, choosing your words carefully. “I am appreciative that you asked me if I was okay with it. Which I am. You’re not creepy or threatening.”

Natasha remained silent for a moment, processing your words. When she spoke, her voice was softer, less guarded. "I'm glad you feel that way. It's important to me that you feel safe."

You nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "I do. I know this whole situation is... unusual, but having clear boundaries and respect makes it easier."

She sighed a sound that conveyed both relief and contemplation. "I guess we're both trying to navigate this the best we can."

"Yeah," You agreed, a sense of mutual understanding settling between you. "And we're getting there, one step at a time."

Natasha turned slightly, her silhouette visible in the dim light filtering through the window. "Let's just keep being honest with each other. It might not make everything perfect, but it will help."

You smiled again, feeling a warm sense of connection. "Deal."

With that, the room fell into a comfortable silence once more.

With that, you closed your eyes, the tension in your body finally easing as you allowed yourself to drift toward sleep, comforted by the small step forward you had taken together.

*************************

The first light of morning barely peeked through the heavy curtains when Natasha woke up. Years of disciplined routine had honed her internal clock to perfection. She moved silently, careful not to disturb the still-sleeping form beside her. Your soft, steady breathing filled the room, a stark contrast to Natasha’s alertness.

She slipped out of bed, her movements precise and efficient. She grabbed her workout clothes from the chair where she had neatly placed them the night before, dressing quickly and quietly. She tied her hair back into a tight ponytail, her mind already shifting into the focused state she reserved for her morning workouts.

As she laced up her sneakers, she glanced back at you. She would offer to wake you but she’d rather not poke the sleeping bear. The last time she done it you’d been grumpy the entire ride to th airport. Besides, she would like to spend some time alone to think about some things.

She grabbed her water bottle and quietly exited the room, the door clicking softly shut behind her. The hotel gym was quite a walk from the bungalows, giving Natasha some time to scope out the place. There were fewer people out than last night which was to be expected. The gym was a well-equipped space that Natasha found surprisingly adequate. She liked to start her day with a combination of cardio and strength training, a routine that kept her body in peak condition and her mind sharp.

She started with a warm-up on the treadmill, the pounding of her feet against the belt synchronizing with her thoughts. She increased the speed, pushing herself into a steady run, her breath coming in controlled, even intervals.

After her cardio, she moved to the free weights, her muscles welcoming the familiar burn. Each lift, each rep, was a show of her strength and determination. The workout was as much for her mind as it was for her body, a way to center herself and prepare for the day.

She ended the workout with stretching. As Natasha sat on one of the floors of the gym hotel her mind drifted to the mission. The bonfire scheduled for later that evening was meant to provide an opportunity to gather more information about the people involved and potentially uncover any hidden agendas. Yet, as she reviewed the events of the past few days, Natasha couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of her mind.

So far, nothing had raised suspicion, and Natasha wasn't entirely surprised by that fact. The resort had managed to stay open despite multiple scandals, which suggested that there was more to the operation than met the eye. It was clear that someone was pulling the strings behind the scenes, but identifying who and why remained a challenge.

Natasha's analytical mind raced through the possibilities, considering every angle and scenario. She knew that she couldn't afford to let her guard down, even for a moment. The mission was too important, and the stakes were too high to risk overlooking any potential threats.

*********** You heard the soft click of the hotel room door and rested your head on the pillow once again. Natasha was going to work out at this indecent time, and you weren’t one to stop her. You knew that both of you needed this alone time to stay sane and keep charged. You could understand that your personality was a little strong at times and made a note to yourself to tone it down. The last thing you needed was to be labeled as difficult to work with.

With a sigh, you reached for your phone on the nightstand. As you unlocked the screen, an idea sparked in your mind. Pulling the covers up around you, you quickly snapped a selfie, making sure to capture your bedhead and the early morning light filtering through the curtains. It was a candid moment, one that felt strangely intimate despite the distance between you and Natasha.

You attached a simple message to the photo before hitting send: “Morning vibes. Hope your workout is going well. See you at breakfast?”

Sending the message off, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. It was a small gesture, but one that spoke volumes about the growing rapport between you and Natasha. If someone were to get a hold of your devices, there would be enough evidence to convince them that your fake relationship was real. It was a risk, but one you were willing to take for the sake of the mission.

As you waited for Natasha’s response, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nervousness. Would she appreciate the gesture, or would she see it as unnecessary? You knew that Natasha was practical and focused, not one for frivolous sentimentality. Still, you hoped that she would understand the underlying message behind the selfie.

When her response finally came, it was short and to the point: “Thanks. Breakfast sounds good.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her dry response. Leave it to Natasha to cut straight to the chase. But despite the lack of enthusiasm in her message, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, she appreciated the gesture more than she let on.

With a grin on your face, you set your phone back on the nightstand and turned to find sleep again. You would need it.

*********** You met Natasha at the breakfast buffet offered by the resort, a spread that was far better than anything you experienced in most recent times, no offense to Tony. The array of fresh fruit, pastries, and gourmet coffee was impressive, and Natasha couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in appreciation as she filled her plate.

As you settled into a table by the window, you couldn't resist commenting on the breakfast spread. "I have to admit, this beats room service at the Tower any day," you remarked.

Natasha nodded in agreement, though her expression remained neutral. "It's certainly a step up from the usual fare," she replied, her tone cool and composed.

“Don’t get me wrong Tony’s stuff is awesome but it’s nothing like this,” You bite into a piece of crispy bacon. “What do they say about billionaires being cheap again?”

Natasha arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "I think it's more about being frugal than cheap," she replied, her tone dry. "But I suppose it depends on the billionaire in question."

You chuckled, enjoying the easy banter between you. “How was your workout?”

Natasha looked up from her plate, her expression unreadable. "It was adequate," she replied simply, taking a sip of her coffee.

You nodded, sensing that she wasn't in the mood for small talk. "Fair enough," you replied, deciding not to press the issue further.

The conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence as you both focused on finishing your breakfast.

“I, um, do you cook?” Natasha asked, breaking the silence with a tentative question.

“Of course I do,” You smiled, sensing an opportunity for a topic of conversation. “You can’t enjoy food as much as I do and not be a great cook.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her expression. “Is that so?” she replied, her tone curious.

You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee before continuing. “Yeah, I actually enjoy cooking. It's a way for me to unwind and relax after a long day. Plus, there's something satisfying about creating a delicious meal from scratch.”

Natasha considered your words for a moment before speaking again. “Funny, I don't think I've ever seen you cook in the Tower,” she remarked, her tone casual but observant.

You chuckled, a sheepish grin spreading across your face. “Well, to be fair, it's not like I had much opportunity to cook there. Tony had a chef on staff, and the rest of the team had their own preferences when it came to meals.”

Natasha nodded, seeming to accept your explanation. “I see,” she replied, though you could tell there was more to her curiosity than she let on.

“Oh, but I have cooked for a few people,” You added. “I've made meals for Wanda and Vision, and Sam on occasion. Monica Rambeau too. Everyone else pretty much does their own thing when it comes to food.”

Natasha's interest was piqued by your mention of cooking for Monica Rambeau. “Monica Rambeau?” she echoed, her tone intrigued.

You nodded, recalling the times you had prepared meals for Monica during her visits to the Tower. “Yeah, she stopped by a few times when she was in town. We had some good conversations over dinner,” you explained, a fond smile playing on your lips.

Natasha's expression softened, but there was a subtle flicker of something in her eyes. “I see,” she replied.

You caught the slight shift in her demeanor but didn’t bother questioning it. You didn’t want to ruin a good thing.

The conversation ended there as you were interrupted by the arrival of another couple, who approached the table with eager smiles. The man, Marcus, was tall and well-dressed, while the woman, Anna, exuded an air of sophistication that seemed at odds with the casual beach resort setting. They were slightly younger than you and Natasha, and their enthusiasm for the resort was evident in their animated conversation.

"Good morning! Mind if we join you?" Marcus asked, his tone friendly but a little too eager.

Natasha exchanged a glance with you before gesturing to the empty chairs opposite them. "Please, have a seat," she replied politely, though her guard was already up.

“I’m Anna and this is my husband, Marcus Blattler.” Anna waved from her seat.

“I’m Alexis and this is Joan,” You greeted back kindly. “Nice to meet you both.”

"So, how are you two enjoying your stay so far?" Anna asked, her smile bright and sincere.

You shared a quick look with Natasha before answering, "Oh, it's been wonderful. The resort is beautiful, and the staff have been incredibly accommodating."

Natasha nodded in agreement, her tone perfectly measured. "Yes, we've been thoroughly impressed with the amenities and the level of service."

Marcus leaned in, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And what brings you to the resort? Are you celebrating a special occasion?"

"Actually, we're here on a sort of mini-vacation," You replied smoothly, your smile never faltering. " Our first anniversary as a married couple. Just taking some time to relax and unwind."

Anna's eyes widened with interest. "That sounds lovely! Do you two come here often?"

"Oh, this is our first time here," You replied, a note of casualness in your tone. "But we've heard such great things about the resort that we couldn't resist giving it a try."

“Yeah, so far it’s been great,” Natasha played along.

Anna's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Have you two heard about the bonfire they have here every week? It’s tonight," she asked, her voice tinged with excitement. "It's such a romantic setting, with the firelight dancing on the beach and the sound of the waves in the background. It's one of the highlights of our stay here."

You and Natasha exchanged a glance, inwardly relieved that Anna had shifted the conversation to a more innocuous topic. "Actually, we haven't heard much about it," you replied, feigning ignorance. "But it sounds lovely. Maybe we'll have to check it out tonight."

Marcus nodded enthusiastically. "You definitely should! It's a great way to unwind after a day of activities. Plus, you never know who you might meet around the fire," he added with a wink.

Natasha's interest was piqued by Marcus's mention of meeting new people. "Oh, really?" she asked, her tone carefully neutral. "Do you and Anna go to the bonfire often?"

Anna smiled, her gaze lingering on Natasha momentarily longer than necessary. "Oh, we're regulars," she replied, her tone casual but her eyes betraying a hint of something more. "It's a great way to meet other couples and make new friends. You never know who you might run into."

“Well count us in,” You smiled. “Now that you mentioned it, an older couple by the pool yesterday informed us about the bonfire. I really hope it lives up to the hype.”

“Great. It will.” Anna nodded. As the conversation with Anna and Marcus continued, you couldn't help but notice Anna's overwhelming enthusiasm and friendliness. "So, y'all are celebrating your anniversary here?" She chirped, her smile bright and infectious. "Isn’t that just the sweetest thing!"

You chuckled at her energy, finding it endearing yet slightly overwhelming. "Yeah, we figured a beach getaway would be the perfect way to celebrate," you replied, your smile mirroring hers.

Natasha nodded in agreement, though her expression remained guarded. "It's been a pleasant escape from the hustle and bustle of city life," she added, her tone polite but distant.

Anna's eyes widened with excitement. "Oh, I just love a good beach vacation!" she exclaimed, her southern drawl becoming more pronounced. "There's just somethin' about the ocean air and the sound of the waves that soothes the soul, don't y'all think?"

You nodded, impressed by Anna's enthusiasm for the beach. "Absolutely," you agreed, silently noting the warmth and sincerity in her voice. "There's nothing quite like it."

“Well, we’re going to let y’all get back to your day,” Marcus excused the two of them, his tone friendly but with a hint of urgency. “Anna and I are going to go ahead and find us an excursion.”

Anna leaned forward, her smile bright and inviting. “Why don’t we exchange numbers?” she suggested, her southern accent adding a charming lilt to her words.

“Sure, that sounds like a good idea,” you replied, pulling out your phone and exchanging numbers with Anna and Marcus.

Natasha followed suit, her movements precise and controlled as she entered Anna and Marcus's contact information into her phone. Despite her reservations, she remained polite and composed, unwilling to give Anna and Marcus any reason to suspect that something was amiss.

As you exchanged pleasantries and bid Anna and Marcus farewell, you turned slightly back to Natasha.

“Is it me or does it seem we’re the only new couple,” You asked.

“Hmm, no, I see it too,” Natasha glanced subtly around the room. “It could be we simply haven’t met other first-timers. Might be something to take note of.”

“Got it, boss,” You nodded. The bonfire was only eight hours away. You were excited to see what was in store.

#c: natasha romanoff #redroomreflections #series tag #appreciation reblog

[therealmylesmorales]

I miss her y’all

An Angel lost her wings today (I’m removing my vertical labret)

#need to get another piercing

[therealmylesmorales]

“Not many folks have been kind to me in my life…”

#he has the same va as Lee from Walking Dead Telltale so it hurts a little more #spider man 2 ps5 #Peter Parker #miles morales #my pics #Myles gaming adventures

[therealmylesmorales]

Symbiote bros

#peter parker #miles morales #venom #spider man 2 #spider man 2 ps5 #Myles gaming adventures #my pics

[therealmylesmorales]

Would

#until the bed breaks. until the wallpaper peals. until my strap disintegrates #kraven the hunter #spider man 2 ps5 #spider man #Peter Parker #miles morales #Myles gaming adventures #my pics

[therealmylesmorales]

I’m cooking y’all just hold up

#aloy x reader #horizon zero dawn #horizon forbidden west #Myles is writing

[therealmylesmorales]

Pleasure Drunk

Minors DNI, +18 only

Description: Sadie x f!reader. Modern au where Sadie and you use a strap-on that becomes like a phantom limb (i guess? idk how else to put it). It's literally just smut.

Word Count: 2,489

Warnings/Rating: explicit, smut, afab reader, not edited

Content: strap-on sex (Sadie acts like it's a part of her, through the power of the mind my pals lol), dirty talk, squirting kinda, no plot.

A/n: this was a lot of fun to write and that's all i have to say really. Also idk how to do endings for a smut fic so I just kinda end them lol.

Ao3 link

Your body tingled, every part of you still buzzing from your previous release. The mattress shifted underneath you as Sadie eased herself up to rest her face next to yours. Her breathing was laboured as she nuzzled her face into the crook of your neck, planting soft kisses along it and your jaw. As she slotted her body between your legs, the strap-on brushed against your core, nudging against the bundle of nerves that still tingled. 

Sadie’s arm pulled out from underneath you and she made to undo the ties that kept the strap-on fixed to her body.

“Don’t,” you breathed. Your eyes fluttered open and met her gaze as you wrapped your arms around her muscled back. “Don’t take it off.”

She leaned in, her golden waves cascading around you and curtaining you into her embrace. The smell of her filled your lungs, the richness mixing with the heady notes of her cologne and creating an intoxicating mix that sent your mind spinning more than it already was. And as her nose brushed yours, the musky smell of you also washed over you as it still clung to her nose and mouth from burying her face deep into your cunt.

“I want it,” you whispered, searching her eyes. 

The hazel had darkened to a deep amber and lust swirled through the brilliant colour. Her cheeks were flushed a soft red from exertion and sweat trailed down the sides of her face, making strands of hair cling to her skin. The cupid’s bow of her lips was swollen from your kisses and from going down on your need, chasing after your release.

Her nose brushed yours. “Again?”

You kissed her chastely as your cheeks flushed from a tinge of embarrassment. “Only if you want to as well.”

Sadie cupped your jaw and kissed you back, the feeling of her lips against yours more intoxicating than any drink ever could be.

“Sweetheart, I'd never stop if I could.” Her lips met yours in another open-mouthed kiss. 

You could taste yourself in her mouth as her tongue brushed against yours. The taste of your release and the heady smell of her caused your desire to light anew, your body wanted to feel the pure and heavenly release of orgasm again. 

“Tell me if it hurts,” Sadie whispered against your lips before pulling away.

You nodded and smiled. You tucked the hair that clung to her forehead behind her ear and let your hand rest against her jawline. She leaned into your touch and smiled brightly.

Sadie’s smile was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. It warmed you to your core and the lust that lingered behind it made it warm you even more. Your cunt ached with the tingling sensation of blood flooding it as you waited for her.

Her gaze fell to where the strap-on rested in the soft coils of dark hair, the shaft pressed against your clit. The bed creaked under her as she adjusted herself to a better position. Sadie's hand gripped the headboard, the loud groan of the wooden bed frame filling the room. Her other hand slid down from your waist to your thigh and lifted it to wrap it around her hips. She held herself above you, taking in the glow of you with awe.

“You’re so wet,” She murmured as she dragged the head of the dildo against your folds. With each upward stroke, it brushed against your clit, sending a shock of pleasure through your body and making the desire burn hotter, needing to be sated. 

She parted the pink folds of you with the same touch one would use when holding the most delicate flower and rested the tip just against your entrance. Her gaze flicked back to you, awaiting your approval.

With the nod of your head, the tip speared into you, spreading your entrance wide. Her mouth fell open as she watched it disappear into you, joining your bodies as one. 

“You're taking it so good.” She cooed.

Your breath hitched as she slowly pushed it further in and your walls stretched around it with ease from your lingering and now renewed desire. They clenched down around it as the tip brushed against that spot that sent stars shooting through your vision. And she kept going, only halfway sheathed into you, kept pressing into your warmth until she bottomed out.

Her hand slid up your thigh until it found the bead of nerves and traced against it. The touch of her thumb was feather-light, testing whether you wanted it yet or not. Your gasp only made her caress it a little harder, the pad of her thumb rubbing circles against your clit as her other fingers splayed out through the curls of hair. The feeling made your body burn and your nipples hardened into peaks from arousal. With one hand you palmed at your breast and the other grasped tightly to Sadie's side, short nails making little half-moons in her skin.

With the dildo fully enveloped in your warmth, Sadie looked back up at you. “Tell me,” she said. 

“Don't stop touching me,” you commanded.

“I could never.” 

With each circle against your clit, a wave of heat coursed through your veins and your heart sped in your chest. Your inner walls relaxed even more around the length and instinctively, your hips buckled up into her. The arousal filled you like air filled your lungs. Seeing her above you, eyes glimmering with her undeniable want for you, made your core tighten into a fiery coil of desperation. 

“Darling?”

“Sadie.” You nodded, your head rolling to the side as you looked at her.

Your cheeks burned as they flushed more, the rosy pink going high in your face.  She smiled and her hand at the headboard fell to brush the hair that clung to your damp skin off of your face to get a better look at you before finding rest on the pillow next to your face.

“Just tell me when.” She murmured. 

“I want it.”

Sadie shifted against you and the dildo slowly dragged out of you, the ridges brushed up against that spot again and your breath caught. 

Holding her hips so that just the tip was still inside you, Sadie languidly thrust back into you, taking time to let it fill you to your full again. She did it again and again at the same slow drag, not wanting to go too fast too soon.

“Harder.” You demanded as you looked up at her.

Sadie readily obliged, her hips thrusting deeper into your walls and her finger tracing faster circles. As she bottomed out into you, she flicked her hips up just slightly so that the tip would brush the spot she knew you loved. She set a slow but passionate pace, taking time to drag the dildo out and forcefully thrust it back into you.

She leaned into you and caught one of the buds of your nipples in her mouth. She sucked at it and twirled her tongue around the hardening peak with a hungry moan. The weight of her added to the glorious friction of your joined bodies and with each thrust of her hips, her hand pressed harder against your clit, winding the coil in your core even tighter.

As Sadie thrust into you, mesmerized by the way your eyes fluttered closed and your mouth fell open as if you were in silent prayer, she felt as though she were truly burying herself deep within your walls. 

She knew what it felt like. The ridges and soft warmth familiar to her from dragging her fingers in and out of you to make you come were so, so easy to remember. She could feel the way the warmth clenched down rhythmically as you got closer and closer to ecstasy. And with the way the base of it rubbed against her clit, her arousal began to build, coiling tightly inside of her as she thrust harder and harder into you.

It was in this pleasure drunkenness that the words passed her lips before she could fully realise what she was saying. 

“You're so tight, it feels so good.” Sadie halted and within an instant buried her face in your neck, trying desperately to stop the nervous giggle that bubbled in her chest. 

Your hands wove through her hair and the touch of your lips against the shell of her ear sent searing heat through her body. “I like it when you pretend it’s yours.” You whispered. Sadie groaned as your fingers dragged along her scalp until your hands looped around her neck. She chuckled against your skin before leaning back to get a better look at your face. 

Sadie smiled that glorious smile of hers, the one that only appeared when she was lost in pleasure. It made your heart flutter even more to see the way her pupils had blown wide with desire and the pure unadulterated adoration she had for you conveyed in such a simple look. 

“You do?” She asked, her eyes fluttered with heavy lids.

In response you wrapped your legs tighter around her waist, pushing her harder into you. Your breaths mingled as you each gasped at the sensation. Her forehead fell against yours, slick with sweat. 

“I do.” You replied.

Sadie giggled and kissed you fervently. Her lips chased after yours, hungry to feel you against every part of her as she started to thrust into you once more. As she hit that spot within your walls, you gasped, mouth falling open and away from hers.

The creaking of the bed got louder as she thrust and rutted into you. The sound made a perfect melody with the soft slapping of your bodies as they collided and the moans and pants that escaped from both of your lips.

Her fingers at your clit didn’t stop and you could feel the thundering of your heartbeat against her touch. She rubbed faster, switching to her index and middle fingers to cover more of your clit with each stroke. But a newer sensation filled your core. It was a fullness that was readying itself to spill over as you climbed higher toward ecstasy. 

“You’re taking me so good,” she cooed. “Look at you.”

Sadie’s arm shook as she struggled to hold herself up over you, her release nearing as the base of the strap rubbed hard against her clit with each needy thrust. 

She moaned and it was an airy, soft sound. Softer than you thought imaginable from her. With another thrust, her arm gave away and she buried herself in your neck. Her teeth dragged along the sensitive skin and were quickly replaced by needy, wet kisses.

“You feel so good,” she mewled. 

“Oh Sadie,” your voice was airy as you called her name, your eyes tightly shutting.

With her breasts against yours, you could feel the way your heartbeats drummed as one, nearly in time with the thudding of the bed frame against the wall. Her nipples had hardened from her arousal and they rubbed against yours as she ground into you. Her hips thrust hard, her body slapping against yours as she went in until the hilt of the strap-on. The fullness in your cunt felt like it would flow over at any moment. It was as though all your desire was gathering together behind the pulsing of your clit, like the water lapping against the walls of a dam that threatened to break.

Your hand replaced hers at your clit as she grasped onto your waist to get a better hold of you. And with each thrust, stars shot through your vision, and waves of pleasure washed over you. Sadie was lost to the world of desire, her gaze locked onto yours as she whispered sweet nothings to you, praising you for how you took the length of her.

"Come for me," she pleaded, her voice raspy with lust.

“I’m so close,” You cried, the words barely audible over Sadie's moans. 

Sadie looked down at you, her eyes hardly even open. “You’re so beautiful.” She murmured. 

The heady smell of your lovemaking filled your lungs as you took a shuddering breath and tears rolled down your cheeks as she fucked into you hard, the movement of her hips faltering as she too neared orgasm. Your fingers at your clit rubbed frantically, wildly chasing after the pleasure that you could taste on the tip of your tongue.

With another hard thrust, you were sent over the edge, Sadie close behind you. Your back arched into her and every part of you trembled as indescribable pleasure consumed your every thought. 

A sudden wetness spilled between your joined bodies, the fullness that had been building breaking like an overflowing dam and making the sounds of her movements even louder and wetter. Your cunt clenched down around the dildo, making the waves of pleasure even more intense. Sadie gasped as she watched you squirt over the length of the strap, your release darkening the sheets as it kept coming with each wave. Within seconds she followed you over the edge, the sight of your release, a pleasure she hadn’t yet known, made her come apart.

Sadie came hard, her body shaking and spasming but she continued to rut into you to take her through her orgasm. Her head fell against your chest and she lightly bit down. Sadie cried out your name as her hips feebly continued to move in tandem with the way you ground against her.

Finally, her movements slowed and came to a stop but she didn’t pull out from your walls. You let your legs fall from around her waist, splaying wide on the bed but still finding enough strength to tangle them with hers. Where your chests met, you could feel the way your hearts still beat as one and your laboured breaths mingled in the tight space between you.

Sadie’s chest heaved against yours as you each gathered yourselves, both of your minds and bodies still reeling from ascending to heaven. Her lips found yours and lazily kissed you. You returned the kiss with ease, never wanting to leave the warmth of her embrace. Every inch of you felt alive, every part of your body buzzing with the fulfillment of orgasm.

“You've never done that before,” she mumbled as she kissed your collarbones.

Embarrassment tried to overtake you but when you saw the look in her eyes, a look of pure wonder, it was gone in an instant. 

“I could say the same to you.” You remarked with a weak smile.

She kissed you fully, her lips pulling into a smile against yours. “Can't help the damn things you do to me.” You wrapped your arms around her back, holding her close, and never wanted to let go. Sadie's pleasure-drunk gaze clung to yours. “I'd love to make you do it again.”

#c: sadie adler #smut tag #appreciation reblog

[therealmylesmorales]

candy crush. (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you’re too sweet, and ellie hates it. 

WORD COUNT: 4.3K

WARNINGS: recordshopmanager!ellie, crumblcookiebaker!oc, hurt/comfort, ellie’s a cunt, ocs too sweet, FLUFF?? FROM ME??? HUHHH, crushing, slight suggestive thoughts

A/N: idk where this came from lol

Ellie’s reorganizing the vinyl selection when a delicate hand lands on her shoulder. “I know your miserable ass doesn’t enjoy company,” Dina hisses in her ear, purposefully hushed, “But you got company.” 

Ellie’s eyebrow quirks with confusion, leaving the earplug that blasts Head like a Hole to dangle over her shoulder. Her eyes glaze over the semi-filled shop, narrowing in on every face until she locks eyes with you from behind the guitar displays. The eye contact only lasts about 1.5 seconds before Dina smacks her leg. 

“Don’t look. You’re gonna make it weird.” Dina quietly snaps from beside her, occupying her hands with some misplaced records. 

“You know her?” 

“I see her around sometimes. I think she works nearby,” Ellie catches her smirking from the corner of her eye, “… I think she likes you.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“I’m dead serious. She’s been staring for the past 10.” 

“At who.” 

“At you, dipshit.” 

Ellie can’t help herself. She takes one experimental glance in your direction; discovers you typing away at your device with a black mask pulled down under your chin, bottom lip trapped between your teeth with worry. Your apron and tiny name tag indicates you probably work somewhere close by, but she can’t pinpoint where. You’re too far and her vision is failing.

“Get her numbe—“

Ellie’s head whips to face Dina, “If you don’t shut up, you’re fired.” 

“Abuse of power,” She snarks in return, “C’mon! She seems so—“

“D-Do you guys have any acoustics for sale?” 

You’re a ninja, for sure. Both girls' heads snap around to face you — who stands a bit too close for Ellie’s liking — phone desperately clutched to your chest and eyes wide as a doe. Mainly locked with Ellie’s before they drop to your name tag.

Crumbl. 2 shops down. 

Fuck. 

“Why, yes!” Dina says excitedly when Ellie doesn’t reply, “Most of ours have been used, but they’re still in great condition. Are you interested in renting or purchasing?” 

“Purchasing… I think.” 

“No problem. I can show you some that we have on display, and if you don’t like those, we have some stocked in the back!” 

Ellie’s forehead creases. Dina has never been this active in making a sale, let alone interacting with any customers. Ellie is always the one who’s forced to pick up her and Riley’s slack in the shop. She catches the light traces of disappointment that overtakes your expression at Dina’s interjection, but eventually, you’re led over to the guitar displays.

Ellie sighs in relief. 

That brief exchange gave Ellie everything she needed to know. She doesn’t find gratification in denying proposals at work, but after months of being hit on by a multitude of customers — the men particularly piss her off— she’ll be as stern as she needs to be to get the point of denial across. Sure, it makes her look like a cunt to the general public, but she’ll take that over being chased after on the clock. No questions asked. 

Ellie assumes that you’ve found what you needed because on your way out, persistent stares are thrown in her direction up until your departure. She dodges them with mastery. 

She would hate to have to embarrass a strip neighbor. 

Three days later, you stumble upon the record shop once more. Dina isn’t here to save Ellie this time, and Riley’s passing time in the break room. Your uniform is lightly dusted with white, presumably flour, and your mask is down, phone clutched to your chest like it holds all your secrets.

Your mouth drops open around a small smile when you approach the service counter, but Ellie interrupts before you can greet her. 

“What can I help you with?” 

She assumed her annoyance would be guarded by professionalism, but your smile drops at its corners at her tone. A light flinch that Ellie prays is enough to deter you from spending your breaks here. 

It doesn’t. Your eyes still shine like the star that you aren’t. 

“I, um… I actually wanted to talk to you. If that’s okay—“

“Is it regarding the purchase you made a few days ago?” 

Dina slid Ellie a notice on the down payment you made for your used dreadnought since you weren’t able to pay in full. The scolding she received about “taking care of you” whenever you returned made her teeth grind together. 

“N-No. I just—“

“I’d appreciate it if we kept the conversation about that,” Ellie uses the scribbles on her notepad as a distraction, “Did you have any questions regarding the instrument? Or if you’re interested in taking part in the lessons we offer, I could redirect you to Riley. She’s in charge of—“

“I just wanted to see if you were… interested in sampling out some cookie flavors I came up with? I’m a baking and pastry student and—“

“Look,” The tip of Ellie’s tongue sharpens into her cheek, irritation evident when you two are eye-to-eye. “I’m not sure where this proposal is coming from, but frankly, I’m not interested.”

The drop in your expression doesn’t stop Ellie’s relentlessness. 

“I don’t know you, and I don’t know why you thought I’d be a good candidate for… taste-testing, but I’ll politely decline. No thanks.” 

Her declination doesn’t sound polite in the slightest; quite snippy and condescending from your perspective, and it forces your windpipe shut. Only for a second before a strangled gasp leaves your lips. You’re not sure if it’s out of shock or lack of breath, but it aches in your lungs all the same. 

Ellie’s glare sends holes through your back as you rush towards the exit, the small bell singing through the store and alarming your leave. 

All Ellie can hope is that you got the message. 

It’s a new week, and therefore, a new Crumbl cookie line-up. Dina won’t stop raving about the carrot-cake cookie which doesn’t resemble a cookie at all. It's tiered and way too soft and stacked with icing that’s sweet enough to rot teeth from the gum. 

It reminds Ellie of you, for some reason; Somehow still managing to be a nuisance without trying. 

Even more so now since Dina’s been using her 45 to walk down and see you. To talk to you. Dina has yet to cough up what about — not that Ellie cares. It’s just weird that you two suddenly have so much in common after knowing each other for all of two days maximum. Whenever Dina clocks back in, she tortures Ellie with dramatic retellings of your stories. 

It’s Thursday; a quiet day for the shop that Ellie uses to her advantage when the sun is at its peak. Searching through cheap magazines and playing Candy Crush on her phone. 

What a time for you to come barreling in. The formerly enjoyable shriek of guitar suddenly sounds like nails on a chalkboard at your appearance. No longer are you in all black. You’re in a sundress. An orange one. You look like a popsicle. 

And you bear gifts. Ellie’s mood turns even more sour when she sees two bright yellow gift bags with smiley faces on them and a tray filled with coffee stuffed in your hands. 

“Good morning!” 

You’re smiling, gleaming, and Ellie’s nose turns up. She plucks one of her earplugs out and closes her graphic novel. 

“How can I help you?” 

You set your bag down on the display case of her prized arch top, and she sighs in exasperation. Annoyance sparks when she notices one of the bags has her name on it, flowers and hearts and sparkles surrounding the tag. 

“Can you not put your belongings on the displays, please? I’d have to clean up after you since none of my employees will.” 

You’ve already moved your bags and exclaimed apologies before Ellie could finish her sentence. She’s seconds away from shoving her earplug back in to tune you out, but you’re fast. Persistent. She hates it.

“I’m really sorry about that,” You say gently, and Ellie shrugs you off, “I, um. I-I came to, uh…”

Ellie blinks rapidly, “If you’re here to apologize for last week, don’t bother. It’s not needed.” 

“Not at all! Well, I’m just… I wanted to drop by and—“

“You’ve gotten quite comfortable with just… dropping by. Have you realized that?” 

Ellie’s squint is harsh and scrutinizing, and sorrow overshadows the light in your pupils. 

“Since it’s obvious that you’re not understanding me, I’ll put it like this,” She leans a bit over the counter, front fully pressed against the glass and palms resting on the stainless steel, “I’m not interested in anything you have going on. Stop using your breaks as an excuse to come see me. I don’t wanna go out with you. And I don’t want to do a taste test. Drop it already.” 

Ellie watches your lip quiver with a harshness exclusive only for people like you, tears welting in your eyes and your fingers pinching at the hem of your sundress. Insecurity is practically seeping from your pores, and your gaze drops shamefully to the floor. 

Ellie’s just about to tell you to kick rocks when the STAFF ONLY door swings open and exposes Riley. Her break ended 20 minutes ago. 

“Hey! You’re early!” 

Ellie scoffs, “No, you’re late—“

“Not you. Be quiet,” She waves her off and smiles at you, who’s smiling back at her with guised genuity. A complete 180 from the you seconds ago. Since when were you and Riley on speaking terms? Friends?

She jogs from behind the stand, “Dina told me you weren’t coming til 3!” Riley throws her arms around your shoulders, and your hands tremble where they rest on her forearms. “Are those the goods?” 

“Yeah!” Your voice sounds heavy. Like you’re guarding a breakdown, “I-I had some time so I stopped by a little early.” 

“I got some to spare til Dee gets here. Hang out with m—“

“Actually!” You intervene shakily, “I have some other drop-offs to make. I really appreciate you guys doing this for me.” 

“Are you sure you can’t stay? Watch me get my Food Network judge on?” Riley suddenly points in Ellie’s direction, “Who knows. Sourpuss might even pop a grin once she tries one.” Ellie’s cheeks run red-hot.

“Sorry, Riley. Maybe next time,” You’re already wobbling towards the exit, “But, please call and tell me what you think! Dina, too! Any feedback is appreciated!” 

“I’m sure they’re delicious, Monster!” Riley compliments playfully, “Text me when you’re home!” 

When the door shuts, Ellie sees Riley’s back stiffen at the sight of you frantically wiping your face through the glass. 

“What the fuck did you do.” 

“I didn’t do shit. She’s loitering.” 

“Lo— Oh my fucking god, you’re an embarrassmen—“

“No, she is. Taking up space for no fucking reason to come and see me. She’s loitering—“

“You’re blowing a fuse over fucking cookie samples?” Riley stares at her like she’s nuts, “And not to burst your self-centered bubble, but I told her to come. She’s been asking all the stores on the block if they’d like to taste ‘em.”

Ellie pauses, expression softening only slightly when Riley continues, 

“I told her you don’t like chocolate, so she made a peanut butter version for you.” Riley shakes Ellie's special, slightly smaller bag as a means to taunt her, and the freckled girl’s face burns red. Glows even harsher when her friend throws in, “You cunt. She’s a sweetheart. Not everyone is fucking obsessed with you.” 

Riley leaves Ellie to simmer in her discomfort, slamming the break door shut. The day seems to drag on longer than usual. 

-

-

-

Ellie’s organizing the break room when she comes across her small baggie that Riley left behind. She would’ve expected her friend to take them home after Ellie’s dramatic blow up, but there it sat on the counter, untouched and jeering. 

Tempting enough for her to rest the broom against the counter and inspect its contents. Wafts of cinnamon and peanut butter hit her through the small opening of the bag, and her heart gives a squeeze. The cookie is iced to perfection — an entire scenery on the light brown canvas. So many flowers and trees and the blue hues of the sky; almost too much detail. It looks printed on. 

You’re artistically talented and the cookie smells divine. 

One nibble wouldn’t hurt. She’s sure the damage she caused is already irreversible. 

But when she cradles the carefully swaddled cookie, a small note falls from beneath the bunched cling wrap. She knows she shouldn’t. She should really, really leave the neatly folded piece of paper where it lays. Down the cookie. Trash the bag. 

She takes the cookie and the note back to her seat at the table. The cookie isn’t what she unravels first. 

“thought I’d make you a separate batch. Riley gave me the heads up about your chocolate disdain. I’m too paranoid to ask for your number in person, so I thought I’d use bait instead. I hope it’s convincing enough. Please let me know if it’s decent. Thank you for tasting.”

Signed with your name and a smiling heart with wings. Ellie’s heart shatters, remaining shards dangling from the rim of her ribcage. She can already see her friends glaring through her chest when they visit the apartment to berate her tomorrow morning. She already knows what they’re going to demand from her, but she’s three steps ahead. 

She ate the entire cookie in two bites right where she sat. It was delicious. Almondy, not too sweet, gently spiced. Probably the best she’s ever had.

Ellie has never been to Crumbl before. 

The viral spot is always bustling — too crowded and filled with loud teenagers with a sugar rush for her taste. Plus, she’s already on the clock when they first open. But the record shop is closed on Fridays. 

She put an extra bit of care into her appearance. She doesn’t recall the last time she did her hair. Half of it is pinned up and her button-up is neatly pressed. Jitters rustle in the pit of her stomach and her forehead is a bit damp, mainly because she can see you through the goddamn window. 

In uniform, you stand at the register with the same beaming smile from last week, talking and giggling with your coworkers, and Ellie instantly feels guilty. Your day seems off to a great start, and here she is… About to ruin it. She almost turned around at the thought. 

But the small bell above the door blares loud, and your bright smile drops once you recognize her, and with that, her stomach. Ellie mentally notes the bags forming under your eyes and the tension in your shoulders. It looks like you haven’t rested for days. Her heart squeezes. 

Your movements turn robotic; stiffly perched on the sides of the iPad stand as your thumb works on the screen. You haven’t looked Ellie’s way since. She approaches the counter with her tail between her legs, fidgeting with her middle finger. 

“Um… hey.” Ellie’s quiet. Out of place. Afraid. 

“What can I get for you?” 

Even with the stiffness, you somehow still manage to sound as soft as a cotton ball, but Ellie’s body locks. The scenario hits her like a brick wall; she’s doing exactly what she accused you of doing to her last week. Bothering her at fucking work. She should’ve never come to your place of business to coddle her ego. She feels like a hypocrite. You certainly see her as one. 

“Um… A cookie?”

“… What flavor.” 

“Uh… peanut butter?” 

You swallow thickly, voice hollow, “That’s not on the menu for this week,” You point towards the display of cookies that were big enough to feed a family, “These are the six we’re serving until Sunday. You can also look at the menu on the screen.” 

Ellie follows your pointing finger. How the fuck does this place work? Weekly flavors? What the fuck does that mean? She quickly examines the names of cookies that flash across the screen: raspberry cheesecake, pink velvet… Mom’s recipe? Odd name for a dessert but she lets it slide. 

“W-What’s your favorite?” 

You’re a baker, for fucks sake. You’d have better taste than anyone, better than her, she’d painfully admit. 

She watches your fingers clench around the screen, tapping mindlessly. 

“Um… raspberry cheesecake.” 

“I’ll get a dozen.” 

“O-Of the same flavor?” 

She shrugs like it’s obvious, “… Yup.” 

You give her one skeptic look before tapping at the screen. “It might be a little wait. About 15 minutes. Do you mind?” 

“No.” 

“Cash or card?” 

“Card, please.” 

More tapping, “That’ll be $41.65. Swipe or tap whenever you're ready.” 

A financial dent over a box of cookies was not on her bucket list. You hand her the receipt, and before you can rush to the kitchen, Ellie exclaims, “When’s your break?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“W— um, when’s your break?” 

Your coworkers are suddenly very interested in Ellie, all four of them eyeing her like venomous hawks. Her cheeks burst into flames. 

“Um… I don’t think that’s any of your concern.” 

And you’re right. Anything involving you is short on Ellie; it was never her business, but a burning in the pit of her stomach desires to learn. Needs to catch you at the right time to give you a proper apology even though she doesn’t deserve the time of day. She doesn’t know what to say. 

You use her floundering as a scapegoat and hustle behind the slamming doors. Just as Ellie rushes to leave empty-handed, one of your employees — Abigail reads across her name-tag, keeps professional, but Ellie’s skin burns with the fire in her eyes. 

“We’ll have those right out for you,” monotone, but gruff. It makes Ellie wonder if you told any of them about her — she doesn’t doubt it. 

“You can wait outside.” 

One stiff nod, and Ellie’s booking it until her feet plant on the packed sidewalk, nearly bumping into a couple with interlocked hands. It takes 25 minutes for the box of cookies to be rigidly placed on the lounge table by another employee. Ellie scurries into her truck with a boiling face and pulls out into the road. 

When she makes it to her apartment, she eats three mini cheesecakes in one sitting.

She sees why they’re your favorite. 

The following week was filled with glares and curses from Dina and Riley — your newfound friends, evidently. They have a way of making Ellie feel like a worthless dunce. They both have rubbed in the tales of you being a thrill to be around; the life of the party whenever they hang out. 

It makes her nauseous. And sad. 

But her sadness swiftly shifts to bewilderment when she catches you smoking near a lamppost after closing. Still in your uniform with a bag over your shoulder, pants dusted in white, proof of your labor. It’s dark out, the only illumination coming from the light stood tall above you and the orange gleam of your cigarette. The sight shocks her. You didn’t seem like the type. 

Maybe that’s where Ellie went wrong with you: constantly assuming… who you are. Your desires, your intentions with her, her friends. She’ll admit her wrongs, of course. 

But it has to be to you. 

Ellie scares you when she approaches, inhaling the nicotine a bit too roughly because you start heaving. Shoulders hunched and jumping with every cough. 

“Uh — fuck, I’m sorry! I-I thought you could see me coming! I didn’t mean — fuck —“

You’re still choking, but you hiss in between, “What the fuck do you want!” 

“I’m just — I’m sorry about —“

“You’re not — cough — you’re not sorry! You made your point clear. I don’t why you keep — cough cough — following me. I left you alone like you wanted!” 

“I DON’T WANT THAT!” Ellie shrieks in panic. 

It’s a heavy-handed admission. A weighted confession that was said too aggressively given your flinching away from her. She takes an instinctive step forward. 

“Your cookies… tasted fucking incredible. I’m also an asshole.” 

The drag you take from your cig while she rambles is almost comedic. Brows cinched at the middle of your forehead, gauging her. You’re not convinced, but you’re not fleeing like the first time. She takes a leap, and a large step towards you. 

“I feel really… really bad,” Ellie’s much quieter, eyes unwavering and the softest she’s ever shown you, “I shouldn’t have… said all that. To you. I’m just so used to being harassed at work. I’m sorry.” 

Maybe nicotine calms you. Your body language isn’t as taut compared to when Ellie first initiated conversation, and your eyes soften at her reasoning. 

The rasp from your timbre melts her skin like butter. “I didn’t know you went through that. That sucks.”

Ellie shrugs, “I didn’t know you were… nice.” 

She made the mistake of attempting playfulness, “Maybe ‘cuz you wouldn’t let me talk.” You snark while ashing. 

“I’m sorry.” Ellie implores. 

You take one last drag before stomping out the flame. “Me too. For bothering you.” 

Ellie cringes at your choice of words, but nods in acceptance. “Are we, uh… okay, now?”

A small smile grows on your face. It’s cute. Makes your cheeks puff out like a hungry squirrel. 

“We’re good.” You extend a fist out to her, and she connects her own at the knuckles. 

When they drop, Ellie nervously stares at her shoes, “Do you want a ride home?” 

“I’m alright, thanks.” 

“C’mon, I don’t want you waiting out here by yourself.”

You pause before asking, “What’s the catch?” Your brow arches mischievously.

Ellie doesn’t hesitate, “More of those cookies.” 

A giggle escapes you. Soft and airy like a feather. Ellie feels a tight clench in her chest. A thumping from her ribcage. Has your smile always been this vibrant? She mentally kicks herself for not noticing before. 

Ellie escorts you to the passenger's side of her passed down pick-up: opens the door for you and makes sure you’re buckled in before starting it up. She learns you’re a metalhead when she cranks the radio to the highest volume. 

… How quickly can crushes develop? 

Two months. Ellie’s spent two months finding every excuse to spend time with you. She welcomes your visits to the record shop and silently thanks the heavens above when you call after her shift to talk about your day. Listening to your rambles about customers and their weekly cookies has become the highlight of hers. 

She’s also found comfort in watching you fail at playing guitar. You’re adorable whenever you strike an incorrect chord or break a string. She’s more than willing to guide you through your trials: late-night invites to her apartment to practice. One of your goals was to learn how to play the entire Vanara soundtrack. 

Ellie assumed she simply enjoyed being in your space. She does, but something shifted between you during one specific session. It was past midnight, and Ellie could tell you were getting tired. She innocently suggested for you to spend the night so you wouldn’t have to Uber at such a late hour, and you graciously accepted her offer. When you started to get comfortable on the couch, she tuts in disapproval and invited you to share her bed because it was more comfortable. 

What a mistake. 

After showering and changing into comfortable clothes, you both crawled into bed and swiftly drifted off. When Ellie’s eyes opened the following morning, her heart immediately traveled up to sit in her throat. If anyone told her she’d wake up with you completely sprawled out on top of her with your warm breath hitting her neck and her arms wrapped around you, she wouldn’t have believed them. She was completely frozen beneath you, but not for the reason she’d assumed. 

Ellie was scared to wake you up. Ellie was scared you would move away from her. 

She was pulled between waking you up and pulling you even closer. You were soft and warm and you smelled like her cinnamon body wash. A literal human cookie. She caressed your back as delicately as she could, and you nuzzled into her shoulder with every swipe. She hoped the harsh thrashes from her heart wouldn’t disturb you. 

They didn’t. 

You took a piece of Ellie when you left her apartment that morning. She’s not sure which part you stole, but she hasn’t felt the same since then. A pull towards you that’s electric, sparks her to life, keeps her up at night. Whenever you’re away, at work, not next to her, she’s desperate to pull you close. To breathe in the natural scent of you. 

Evidently, crushes develop rather quickly. 

“I thought baking was supposed to be fun.” Ellie huffs from where she lays on her bed. 

“It is fun! My favorite past-time, actually,” She watches you pace around her bedroom, guitar still strapped securely around your shoulder, “It’s just stressful when you have chefs constantly breathing down your neck. It’s so hard to be creative because they nitpick everything.” 

Creating a menu is much harder than Ellie assumed. She’s become the person you’ve come to whenever you’re fired up from classes, ranting and raving about the apparent dickheads that judge your creations. After testing your recipes for as long as she has, how could anyone turn down a dessert from you? 

You’re such a hard-worker. Focused, determined… pretty when you’re brainstorming. Pretty when you’re thinking… Pretty when you’re smiling. Standing. Staring off into the distance. 

“Hm.” 

It’s all Ellie can say. She’s been trying to mask her rampant stares at your bare thighs for the past… however the fuck long. They look so soft. So pliable. So easy to stretch and pry and yank at— 

Her guilty pleasure went from collecting Pokémon cards to gawking at your legs whenever you wear shorts. 

Ellie’s definitely crushing. 

Crushing very, very hard. 

#c: ellie williams #angst tag #appreciation reblog

[therealmylesmorales]

Gender….

#I’m so tired y’all #like why can’t I just character customize myself #gender crisis #lgbtq community

[therealmylesmorales]

The Loud House Chapter 1

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Note: I am only uploading the first chapter here and the rest will be on A03

Summary: Natasha and Reader are happily married with a family that rivals the Brady bunch. Both moms have to adjust to married life with six children, a new space, parents living with them, and teenage woes - based on the family from It’s Christmas

A road trip can make or break even the strongest of relationships. For you and Natasha, it certainly tested the limits. Five children, one car, and ten hours of road ahead of you were daunting in the beginning. Two of the children were barely potty trained - one of them being in diapers the entire time. Another decided that she couldn’t hold her bladder for more than three hours at a time. A teen who wanted to take selfies at every single rest stop and a five-year-old who wanted to interact with truck drivers. It tested your patience more often than not. Surprisingly those were the good times. Ten hours on the road turned into sixteen. Still, you didn’t complain. It’s the first time in weeks you’ve all been together this long. As you look at Natasha, noticing her eyes light up, you realize how good this will be for your family. You think about how good it’s been so far. Neither of you was on a time crunch and seeing the excitement on your children’s faces was like no other.

Your first road trip as a family and you’d made it. You’re just entering Cincinnati, Ohio and you’re beginning a new life.

“Oh, look, it’s the first of many signs,” Cara turns her phone out towards the street. She presses it against the window, whispering to herself about being in “Bumfuck, Ohio.”

“Hey!’ You scold her from two rows up. “There are little ears back there.”

“I’m sorry,” She says sheepishly. She lowers her phone, no doubt talking to one of her friends, as she continues to describe what she sees.

“Why are we in Bumfuck?” Charlie casually repeats what her older sister said. “I thought we're going to Cicin-canti?” She wonders aloud.

“Language,” Natasha sighs. The silence of the car ride is seemingly broken. They’re getting restless and so are you. “We are moving to Cincinnati.”

“Same place,” Cara mutters. She raises her hand in mock surrender when Natasha turns to look at her. “I’m just saying it doesn’t look too exciting.”

“Well, it can be.” You stop at a traffic light. In your rearview mirror, you can see Melina, Natasha’s mother, trailing behind you in Natasha’s Audi S8. A car she barely trusted the woman to take. After a lot of convincing and kissing, Natasha agreed to let her mother drive it. “Stay positive. It might do you some good right now.”

The car ride continues in silence. You pull onto your street, searching for the familiar address, driving by houses that are larger than life. A bit larger than you’re used to that’s for sure. Children are playing in the street, Charlie presses her face against the window to watch them as you continue past at a leisurely pace. The grass is green here. Full yards. Empty pathways. Everything was entirely different from the hustle and bustle of New York City.

Finally, you pull up to the driveway of your home. You can hear gasps, and even a whine from behind you, as you put the car in park. You unbuckle your seatbelt, flashing Natasha a smile, as you both exit the car. The engine of the 2018 GMC Acadia goes dead. You make sure to pocket the keys.

You look around. The moving truck should have been here by now. You open one side of the car door simultaneously like Natasha. She takes one child out of their seat, while you take another. Paige stretches her little legs and body as soon as you set her onto solid ground. Luke, your six-month-old son, whimpers in Natasha’s arms as he awakens.

Melina parks next to you and rushes to exit so she can help.

“Oh, this is a beautiful place,” She smiles widely as she greets you.

“Yeah, Mommy, it’s huge!” James matches her smile as he looks up at the house.

“How much did something like this cost?” Alexei, Natasha’s father, asks in deep interest. He’s already inspecting the street and the other houses surrounding yours.

“2.1” You answer easily. You help Charlie and Cara out of the car next. Everyone needs fresh air and room to breathe. You brush down Charlie’s hair as everyone turns to view their surroundings.

“2.1? What is this 2.1?” Alexei tilts his head in interest. You sometimes forget he’s not American and wouldn’t always understand what you’re saying. Though you think he’s a bit in denial.

“2 million dollars, Deda,” Cara answers for him as she snaps pictures of her new home.

“Two million dollars?” Alexei chokes on his words. He grunts when Melina tells him to be quiet but he still can’t believe it. “You know what I can do with two million dollars? Where do you even get that kind of ?”

“Alexei,” Natasha steps around the car. She bounces a whimpering and sleepy Luke in her arms. “You and Melina are staying here because we want you to grow with the kids and we want them to know you. Please, just, not now.” She begs. She pats Luke’s back soothingly as he brings his fingers into his mouth to suck on them. He gives a gummy smile when Charlie begins to play peek-a-boo with him.

“I know the movers are supposed to be here,” You shake your head. You take your phone out of your pocket to view the time. “Like an hour ago. I have the keys so we can let ourselves in for now. Maybe take in what we have in the cars?” You suggest. Natasha nods. She’s thankful for a distraction.

“I have to pee!” James announces. “It’s urgent.” He says quickly as he crosses one leg over the other. You jump to cradle him in your arms, football style, as you race with him to the front door. You quickly unlock it before rushing through the house to the very first bathroom.

You help him to unbutton his jeans and get the toilet seat up. The rest he can do on his own. You go to stand outside of the bathroom in case he gets lost. You can hear the tinkle of pee and James stretching to flush the toilet.

“This house is big,” He says from behind the closed door. “ I like it, Mommy.” He opens the bathroom door with both hands. He peeks his head up at you. “There’s no soap.”

“Thank you for telling me,” You tap his nose. “I have sanitizer in the car for now,” You gesture back outside. “I can give you some of that and once we have all of our stuff we can clean them real good. How’s that sound?”

“Like a plan,” James grins before buttoning his pants. He runs past you to meet the rest of the family at the front door.

“Wow!” Charlie steps inside first followed by everyone else.

“It’s so big right, Charlie?” James looks for his sister’s approval. Charlie nods as her eyes try to take everything in.

It is a pretty big house. Seven bedrooms. Nine bathrooms. Ten thousand square feet. More than enough room for all of you.

Cara is the last kid to step in, her face too engrossed in her cell phone, to take everything in. You walk over to her, a polite tap on her arm, she looks up at you with questioning eyes.

“Can you put that away for a second?” You ask. She obliges though she isn’t too happy about it.

“Yes?” She says exasperatedly.

“How are you feeling?” You wave your hand to the foyer. She looks at the first two rooms. The one on her left is a study, for you, the one on the right, is a dining room.

“It looks good so far,” She shrugs. “Can I see my room? I do get my room right?”

“Of course you do,” You wrap your arm around her shoulder to walk further into the house. “It’s one of the main reasons we wanted to move. To have more room for you all. Something just for you.”

Cara nods, not offering more opinion, as you lead her to the first staircase. Natasha seems to be showing everyone around the house.

“Charlie, James, Paige, and Luke will be upstairs,” You nod towards the staircase. “Now, your bedroom will be downstairs.” You can see the way her eyes light up. “There is an in-law suite down there as well which is where your grandparents will be sleeping but… you’ll have privacy.” You lead her down the stairs to the finished basement. There’s a family room, a rec area, and a home theater. Something you think Cara and her friends will be using quite often. “Mama and I wanted you to feel like you have a say in a lot of the decorations so we kept everything blank.” You open the bedroom door and Cara practically bounces in excitement.

“Mom,” Cara steps into her brand new bedroom for the first time.“I get my own bathroom too? Oh my God!” She squeals. “I can have a huge bed right? Anything I want?”

“Anything you want,” You answer. You feel elated that she’s showing interest in this move for the first time.

“Ohh, wait until I call Kelsey and Jenna, can I?” She raises her phone to type in a number before she looks to you for permission.

“Go ahead, I’ll be upstairs with Mama.” You inform her before leaving her to marvel over her new space. You weren’t lying. A big reason you all moved from the four-bedroom brownstone to this one. That and you wanted to experience something different. Why not Ohio? You’re walking back upstairs, you can hear the pounding of little feet on the third floor, and you’d rather not investigate. You find Natasha in the kitchen, feeding Luke a bottle of milk, as she leans against the counter. She lifts her head to smile at you. You kiss her forehead, tickling Luke’s stomach, with another kiss on Natasha’s cheek.

“Is she happy?” Natasha asks. She’s always so concerned. About every single one of your children.

“She is,” You answer. You can see her visibly relax at your words.“I think it will take some time.” You match Natasha’s stance. “For all of us. I’m excited. This is what we wanted. For our kids to have a place to play, to feel safer, to not be on top of each other.” You sigh. This is the right thing to do. “As for me, I’m kind of upset that the movers aren’t here because we’ll be eating and sleeping on the floor until they do.” You check your phone again for any messages.

“Consider it a sleepover,” Natasha slips the bottle from Luke’s lips. He grunts in frustration but soon quiets down once Natasha holds him upright. She pats his back firmly, hoping to receive a burp and he doesn’t disappoint. “Charlie will gladly help you set up. Air mattresses and all.” You snort. Last time you allowed Charlie to help she took over the entire operation. For a seven-year-old, she can be incredibly bossy.

“I love you,” Natasha says suddenly. Your eyes fly to hers and you smile.

“I know,” You say. “I love you too.”

“How much?” She raises a brow.

“More than Cara loves her phone” You joke and Natasha moves her head. “More than Paige loves ice cream, Charlie and her skates, and more than James and his dinosaurs all rolled into one.”

“Seems like a lot,” Natasha ponders. “Maybe once we’re all set up you can show me?”

“I’d love to,” You kiss her again as a promise for later. Luke grunts between you not okay with being squished. “I’m sorry, little guy, your Mama is hot.”

Luke simply drools on his chewed fingers. His eyes leave yours to find something behind you. Natasha turns to view three children flying down the steps, Paige almost tripping on her own feet, before she uprights herself. Your eyes widen. Maybe it’s time for a reminder on why not to run down those.

“Is there more house?” James runs to you to grab at your pants legs. He points in the direction of the backyard and you nod. There’s more of the house for them to see. “Let’s go see.”

Natasha follows with Paige holding onto her hand while holding Luke in her other hand. You keep a very bouncy James in check as you all step onto the patio. James can’t believe his eyes at what he sees. Yes, the pool is nice. It’s magnificent even. He’s more focused on the basketball court about fifty feet away from the pool. It’s painted purple and gold. Laker’s colors that you don’t care for.

“I can play here!” James runs over to the court. He begins his own game of hopscotch. “Mama, can I play?”

“You sure can,” Natasha yells back. She lets go of Paige’s hand for a second and you can see where things will go wrong. Paige toddles over to the pool, kneeling before it, to reach her hand in and touch the water. Though she can swim you’re not quite in the mood to get her out of the pool. You kneel next to her to hold onto the back of her shirt. “We have to get a gate.” Natasha muses out loud. You nod in agreement.

“Where are Alexei and Melina?” You ask.

“I sent them to the store for food and supplies,” Natasha answers. She watches as Charlie and James engage in a game of tag. “An entire list and my Amex. Should give them a bit more time to explore on their own.”

“Sounds good,” You carry Paige in your arms now. “I know baby you love the pool and maybe tomorrow we can swim. Not today.”

Paige whines but lets it go quickly. She wiggles out of your arms to follow her older siblings around the basketball court. Their giggles are like music to your ears. Children playing, running around, being themselves. You can’t imagine anything better than this.

“Mom? There’s no signal here.” Cara steps out of the house from the door leading to the basement.

“Everything will be set up later,” You remind her. “Security, cameras, internet. All of it will be done by the end of this week for sure.”

“So, what am I supposed to do?” Cara pouts.

“Play with your siblings, you have four,” You gesture to the other kids. “Hang out with your moms. Unpacking is fun. Right?” You chuckle at her face. “Explore the neighborhood. Maybe you’ll find a cute boy.” Cara’s lips quirk at the idea but she doesn’t respond.

“Hey,” She grins. “We have all this space. Can we get a dog?”

“Oh no, no, no, no dogs.” Natasha immediately shuts that down.

“A dog?” Charlie stops her playing to participate in the conversation. “I want a dog. Like the one on Fuller House.” She comments. “Mama can we ?”

“Dog?” Paige echos.

Natasha looks to you for backup and you can’t back her up on this one. You’d like a dog too. Maybe not in the near future but soon. Natasha sighs. She won’t be winning this one.

“If we get a dog I’m going to be responsible for it,” Natasha argues. “I will be the one taking them on walks, playing with them, feeding them. May I remind you what happened to Gordon the hamster?” She says and each child avoids her gaze. “You guys lose interest in things rather quickly. A dog is a living being.”

“I promise we will take care of it,” Cara begs. “If we make a chart and divide the responsibilities. If I don’t you can take away my allowance for six months.”

Natasha narrows her eyes.

“A year,” She counters.

“Eight months?” Cara responds. “And I learn Russian?” She throws that in and you know Natasha is sold. You are incredibly proud of her negotiation skills.

“In a few months once we’re settled we will discuss one dog,” Natasha raises a finger to stop their excitement. “One dog. Singular. A breed we all agree on. Maybe a rescue? Older. More mellow. Mommy and I have already changed enough diapers.” She alludes to Luke’s and Paige’s diapers.

“I don’t wear diapers all the time,” Paige says indignantly. “I wear big girl panties now, Mama.” Paige frowns.

“That’s right you do,” Natasha praises her for her progress.

“Speaking of, how about we go and collect everything from the car.” You round up the kids to get everything together. They have loads of energy and you might as well put them to work.

********************************

The kids turn out to be a huge help. They take bags from the car and place them one by one in the living room. When you’re done, Melina and Alexei, have returned and you take more bags into the house.

“Baby gates,” Alexei announces. “I think with little ones and stairs it will be no good.” He shows you the box of brand new gates to be installed.

“Wow, thanks, Alexei,” You’d forgotten about the idea of either of the little Romanoffs taking the stairs. “Did you bring the tools?” Alexei’s smile leaves his face. “It’s fine. I’ll do Instacart for something to be delivered within the next couple of hours. You go rest. Let Natasha show you guys your suite.”

“Suite?” Alexei questions. “A big one?”

“Pretty big.” You laugh at his giddiness. You’re pulling random new items from the trunk of the car when a stranger approaches you.

A tall woman with deep brown skin and brown eyes. She looks nice enough.

“Hello, Neighbor,” She greets you and offers a smile. “It’s so nice to see you again. We met before, during the open house, I’m Lacy Houston.” You don’t quite remember her but you’re sure you will. She extends her hand for you to shake and you do. “It’s so nice seeing you move in. It’s about time we get a bit of diversity around here.”

Her comment stops you in your tracks. What did she mean by that?

“I just mean I’ve seen your big family,” Lacy quickly covers up. “I envy people who can do it. Kids running around. I have one and I think even he’s a handful.”

“We manage,” You look back to the trunk of your car.

“I’m sure you do,” Lacy’s voice dips lower. “You look very in shape for someone that has given birth recently.” She looks to the baby gates. “How old?”

“He’s six months,” You don’t care to correct her on whether or not you gave birth to him. From the corner of your eye, you can see Natasha approaching. “This is my wife, Natasha.” You watch Natasha’s green eyes give the woman a once over. There’s no doubt she could take her.

“Your wife,” Lacy smiles. It’s fake and you can see right through it. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Lacy.”

“Nice to meet you, Lacy…” Natasha cuts her eyes to you. She’s trying to figure out who exactly this woman is.

“Our new neighbor,” You supply and Natasha is a bit surprised.

“Right, our neighbor, lovely to meet you.” Natasha takes Lacy’s hand to give it a firm shake.

Charlie chooses that very moment to come out and interrupt your conversion.

“Mama, Cara says I can’t get my room painted pink. Can I?” Charlie looks at her expectantly.

“You can paint it whatever you want, Charlotte,” Natasha bends down to kiss her head. “Don’t listen to Cara.”

“What a beautiful name,” Lacy compliments. “For such a pretty little girl. You look like your other mother. Same eyes and everything.” Lacy waves a hand between the two of you.

Charlie presses herself into Natasha’s front, the redhead’s hands coming to rest on her shoulders, as Charlie looks up at the other woman.

“I’m adopted,” Charlie says. “What’s your name?” You almost giggle at the woman’s surprise.

“Lacy,” She answers.

“Do you have kids, Lacy?” Charlie asks.

“Miss,” You remind her.

“Miss Lacy, do you have kids?” Charlie rephrases her question with the appropriate title.

“One, my son, he’s six. Benjamin. We call him Benny for short.” Lacy looks back to her own home. “I don’t want to take too much of your time. It was nice meeting you all. Especially you Charlotte.”

“Bye,” Charlie waves to the woman as you watch her walk off. Charlie leaves you with Natasha in search of her siblings.

“I don’t like her,” Natasha says once you’re out of earshot.

“Be nice,” You shake your head. You take the remaining bag out of the trunk as Natasha follows behind you.

“I am being nice,” Natasha throws her hands up. “She wants you.”

“How can you tell in just five minutes of talking to her,” You don’t entertain the silly idea. Lacy was simply being nice. A little forward but she didn’t seem to mean any harm. You set the bags down in the foyer to look at your wife.

“I can tell,” That’s Natasha’s only response. “I’ll have my eye on her.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” You kiss her cheek. “What are we feeding these kids for dinner?” You open your phone to order the last few items you need to get you through tonight.

“McDonald’s,” Natasha suggests and you stop typing. Did Natasha “my children will not eat that slop” Romanoff just offer to get the kids fast food? “Unless you feel like cooking.” You shake your head. “I think we can let it slide one night.” She doesn’t like the idea but cooking was not an option tonight.

McDonald’s it is.

******************************

Once baby gates are put up, doors are locked, and food is delivered everyone sits on the floor of the living room to eat. Sheets are set onto the floor to keep the mess contained in one area. Natasha sits with Luke in between her legs as she sits to eat. Charlie is dipping her nuggets into honey barbecue sauce, while you help Paige open her apple slices.

“Mama, what’s this?” She gestures to the tiny sauce given with her happy meal. She dunks her finger into the open container before bringing the substance closer to her eyes.

“Caramel,” You answer. “You’ve had caramel before.”

“I don’t think so,” Paige scrunches her nose before tasting it on her fingers. “Oh! It’s good.”

“I told you,” You bite into your chicken sandwich.

“She’s a very picky eater,” Melina mentions. “I think it’s good she tries new things even when she’s like that.”

“It’s been a battle,” You say. “A long one.” You hand Paige her apples. She takes them happily.

“Hey, what’s my school like?” Cara asks.

“Ohh,” You nod. You could talk about that easily. “It’s really good. Pre- K through 12th grade so you all will be attending. The curriculum is right where we want it to be in terms of learning and its focus. They have a study abroad program in the upper school, sports, clubs, everything that we think you’d love. We can go on tour on Monday if you’d like.”

“Cool, cool,” Cara nods. “Is it preppy? We have to wear a uniform right?”

“Most days,” Natasha answers. “They have a dress-down thing several times a month.”

You both know it will certainly be an adjustment going from dressing however you want to wear a uniform.

“I do school too?” Paige drops her apple onto the blanket but quickly picks it up to push it into her mouth.

“Yes, for five days a week. Mornings,” Natasha dips her fries. “You will go to pre-k and then Mom and I will be there to pick you up.”

“I have friends?” Paige smiles. “And homework?”

“Let’s hope they don’t have homework.” You laugh at her excitement. Give it a few years and she won’t be so excited.

“Do you pay for this private school?” Alexei asks. “For each child?”

“Yes,” You answer. “Though it’s nothing we can’t afford.”

“Your job as district attorney pays that much?”

“It pays decently,” You shrug. “I also have investments and forms of income that set me up quite well. Natasha’s income also.” You won’t go into much detail with him but you’re both very well off. Sending your kids to private school wasn’t going to break the bank.

“And if they want to stop being private?” Melina asks. “Is that an option? These schools are very strict, no?”

“Yes, they can.” Natasha looks at each of the kids. “Public school is always on the table. I won’t push them to do something they don’t want.”

“You make us have a bedtime every night,” James reminds, causing everyone to laugh.

“I do but that’s because you’re a grumpy little guy in the morning,” Natasha reaches over to poke his belly. “We get angry James if he doesn’t sleep.”

“Angry James, angry Charlie, angry Paige, angry Cara…” You list off. “All of you need sleep.”

“Does that mean bedtime soon?”

“Bedtime for all of us,” You stretch. “For now, let’s say one thing we’re excited about living here. Does that work?”

“I’ll go first,” Natasha dusts her hands free of any crumbs. “I’m excited to see the kids grow here. I’m excited to raise them outside of New York. So they can see how I grew up. It’s a wonderful place.”

“I’m excited also to see the kids grow up here,” You say. “I’m also excited about my new job. For our new endeavors and whatever life brings for us.”

“I’m excited to paint my room,” Charlie is next.

“I’m excited to play on the basketball court,” James points to the backyard.

“I am happy to spend time with my daughters and grandchildren,” Melina says.

“I am looking forward to being with family too,” Last to go is Cara and she seems a bit reluctant. She wasn’t very excited to be here.

“Okay, okay,” She shakes her head. “I’m excited about my new bedroom, for new adventures. Also, to reinvent me. It could be fun.”

“Thank you, Cara,” You say sincerely. “We are happy that all of you are trying.”

“Bath time!” Natasha shouts. “Last one to throw away their trash and get to the bath is a rotten egg.” She takes Luke first and the rest of the children follow. This leaves you and the grandparents to clean up.

“I’m delighted you guys stayed,” You say to Melina as you walk with her to the trash. “Natasha is really happy you’re here too.”

“We are glad to be here,” Melina holds the trash can open for you.

“I have to go and help with bathtime,” You sigh. “You and Alexei can keep exploring the house or whatever it is you guys want. Movers should be here in the morning. Thank you, Melina.” You nod to her again before leaving the kitchen to find Natasha.

**************************

Bath time takes two hours. You clean and scrub each child, dress them in pajamas, and send them on their way into the living room. You and Natasha take separate showers quickly before going to your side of the living room to sleep. Only, you can’t. You’re too wound up. Natasha who’s lying next to a sleeping Luke turns over so that she’s facing you.

“Can’t sleep?” She opens her eyes to find you looking back at her.

“No,” You admit with a whisper. You raise your head to see if everyone else is. They’re out like lights. “Come with me.” You say and Natasha makes sure Luke won’t cry before she meets you in the master bedroom. It’s the only bedroom on the second floor. You close the door behind you just as Natasha steps into it.

She lets out an uncharacteristic squeal before she wacks you.

“Ouch!” You rub at the sore spot on your shoulder.

“Don’t scare me you jerk,” She frowns in the darkness. You apologize by pulling her into your arms. You kiss along her neck and chest hoping to lead her to a wall. Instead, you both meet air which causes you to fall onto the ground with her on top of you. She giggles before placing both hands beside your head to get a good look at you. “Hi.” She whispers.

“Hi back,” You wiggle under her. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous,” Natasha breathes. “Afraid. Excited.”

“Me too,” You push her hair over her shoulders.

“Are we doing the right thing?” She bites her lip nervously.

“I think we are,” You place your hands on her hips. You can feel the heat of her core on your stomach through her sleep shorts. Natasha looks down at your hand placement. You move your right hand to caress her thigh. “Do you think you can be quiet?”

“I know I can,” Natasha opens her legs a bit wider. “Can you?”

“Never been a problem,” You challenge as you massage just a bit closer to the place she wants you most.

“Well, show me then,” Natasha whispers as she leans over to kiss you softly. “I’ve missed you.”

“Mhmm, I’ve missed you too.” You raise your head to steal another kiss. “How do you feel about mirrors on the ceiling?” You ask suddenly.

Natasha looks down at you wide-eyed.

It’s not a terrible idea.

You slide your hand into her panties to feel how wet she is.

Here’s to new adventures.

#series tag #c: natasha romanoff #redroomreflections #appreciation reblog