Mcu - Blog Posts

natty dropping to her knees to eat her little valentine out <333

warnings: older!nat x kotenok!reader, oral sex (r receiving), and age gap. nsfw

“Hey.”

Her smile grows when her eyes drop to where you’re sitting. The small make shift bench in side her walk in closet seems more comfortable than it looks like.

But it’s the way Natasha looks at you from where she stands with her hair up in a bun and cheeks pink from working out.

“Hi, Natty.”

She reaches out a hand to dance her knuckles along the apple of your cheek. “You look pretty like this.”

“Really?” You ask her, genuine shock present in doe eyes.

The older woman nods and tilts your chin up with a finger. “You don’t think so, kotenok?”

You shrug, then look away from her gaze. “I don’t really think about it too much.” The words feel more intimate now that the two of you are so physically close.

But it’s the silence that makes you take a shaky breath of air. Natasha sees it and a frown erupts on her lips. Her hand reaches over again to force your attention back to her where her thumb draws over the crevices of your bottom lip.

“Can I kiss you?”

You look baffled by the question, almost feeling the blood that rushes to your cheeks and nose. But you nod anyways and bite your lip rather nervously.

“Okay?”

You nod again. “It’s more than okay, Natty.”

The older woman leans a great height to kiss you. What was supposed to be a simple kiss turns deep when you feel her tongue smooth over your bottom lip for access. It’s the whimper that parts your part and allows her access, and it’s the hand sneaking around your neck that has you heaving in response.

Natasha grows weary as she bends over. Kneeling down and settled between your parted legs, the red head pulls away to breath and she looks at you shameless.

“You alright, Bunny?”

You flush under the use of your nickname. The way the word falls so gracefully from your girlfriend’s plump lips has you clenching your thighs in arousal.

Natasha notices and with a grin, she cocks her head in faux inquiry. “Want me to help you? Make you feel good, yeah?”

Your eyes widen at her offer. While shy, who were you to deny the red headed bombshell in front of you? Your libido and abstinence could only do so much for you. Especially with the way the older woman kneels in front of you as if in prayer.

“O-Okay, Natty.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, shy.

Her hand squeezed your thigh from where it laid. She was just as excited as you were and she made it obvious with the way she bit her lip as she leaned in to kiss you.

While her lips pecked your own in a quick manner, her hand slipped around the small cropped lounge shorts you were wearing. The soft cotton fabric felt like sandpaper against her skin and she was just as eager to tug it down your legs and let it look around your ankles.

Your heart raced out of your chest just as her hands peeled your legs apart by the knee. Despite the lack of light, the small ambiance of the lamp casted a daring shadow over your girlfriend’s features.

You had nearly forgotten the fact that you were bare to here in your shared walk in closet and that you were dripping onto the bench, anticipating her next move.

Her eyes travelled to you then to where you had your legs separated. “Jesus Christ,” her cheeks grow red at the sight of you.

You were glistening, Natasha could definitely say that. But it was the way you were looking at her with big, wide, doe eyes that shed whatever’s left of your innocence that made Natasha breathless.

Nevermind the sight of your cunt, pink and puffy, wet and drooling all over her three thousand dollar hand crafted bench. She was at awe. Both at how beautiful you were and how much she loved you.

“Sweetheart,” her growl returns you to the land of the living. Your eyes staring at her dead ahead before within a blink, and her head nudges it’s place between your legs.

A silence screams parts your mouth and the sensation of her tongue fills your cunt with ease - the familiarity of her touch caressing your insides.

“Natty - OH!”

Your body falls and arches against her. Theres that coil in your stomach that churns and curls your toes. It makes you heave before forcing your hands to grip the curls on her head.

“Jesus,” she pulls away enough to mumble it against your wet cunt. “So - So sweet for me, honey.”

A shaky whimper breaks the silence, and with your shaking legs and bucking hips, you near your finish with a loud cry of the redhead’s name. Natasha moans boastfully loud, the vibration enough to make you sensitive and pull away from her anxiously.

“Too m-much. H-Hurts.”

She pulls away, mouth and chin glistening with wetness. Her tongue barely makes an appearance but when it does, she licks away the reminiscent of you.

Then a grin pulls up on her swollen lips. Her fingers hook around your ankles, and before you know it, her mouth is back on yours.

can we imagine seggsy time with nat and she puts a vibe on your clit but then straddles you so it’s on her aswell…. 😮‍💨

OH YEEEEAAAH

Can i pls request an older!Nat x younger!reader (legal age gap). Praise/degradation kink, cum filled strap, squirting, overstimulation, daddy!Nat and LOTS OF AFTERCARE. Up to you if reader is top or bottom.

If you feel uncomfortable with something you can skip it, i’m so sorry in advanced.

warnings: older!nat x younger!reader, major age gap, slight dark themes but nothing too obvious, secret relationships, praise/degradation, overstimulation, slight dom/sub dynamics, cum play, cream pie, oh god this is so fucking disgusting ew i’m sorry

Theres something about the way Natasha moves against you. The push-pull stride of her hips that meet your own. The caress of her hand against the spine of your back while you bury your face in her neck.

She does it so carefully and so calculated that a shiver mixes in with the orgasmic pleasure that settles in the pits of your stomach.

She’s been fucking you for the last half an hour. The faux cock attached to her, splitting you open in a need to make you cum. It’s the way that you’ve nearly cum five times, for only her to pull back in the last minute.

You’re practically shaking as she holds you. Your small body, caged in her large frame, the action has you whimpering her name for attention.

“N-Natty... Ple—ase..?”

The redhead looks at you, an unwavering look on her features as her brows rise. Her eyes widen then drop to where the two of you are closely connected.

“What do you want, baby?”

“Need you, please,” your begs sound so pathetic as they echo the small hotel room. The older woman finds pleasure when you find a look degradation on her face. “Be a good girl for you...”

She considers it. For a moment, just a split second, you think you’ll finish then and there. But she sits back on her thighs, and then pushes your back flat against the cheap hotel bed. Her large hard wraps over that spot on your hip; gripping tight enough to leave bruises.

“Just a little bit more for me, alright, bug?” It’s not a question she wants answers, but the older woman does nod as if you’ve said yes. You have no choice but to take it as her hips slam hard against you. The pace starts up against, and there’s a silent scream that parts your mouth open.

You’re sure if you and her weren’t stuck up in a cheap motel on the outskirts of the city, then the sounds of skin slapping and grunting would be enough to ensue a police investigation. But you’re lucky the redhead had chosen a place so quaint yet so secretive.

Almost as if she’s been here before.

The thought makes your way and then it goes; too busy wrapped up in the sensation of the older woman thumbing at your swollen clit. So sensitive, so overstimulated, the action makes you whine and push her hand hand.

“I’ll be good, p-please...”

There’s a look of hesitation, then Natasha cocks her head. “Yeah? Gonna let me cum inside?”

You nod, eager. “Y-Yeah, anything, Natty - Just—”

Then there’s a hand circling over your neck, and another pawing at your chest. The fabric of your baby tee scrunches under her rough touch.

“Okay, bunny. I’ve got you, yeah?”

Tears swell in the corners of your eyes as she speaks. The smile on her face widening at the sight of you before she scoops your tiny body, and presses your front against her own.

From there, her hands work you up and down the faux cock. The girth and length of the toy splitting you open, and caressing that little spot where the curve of the toy just hits right. It doesn’t help that your clit ribs so deliciously well against Natasha’s stomach, making you cry and cry out of pleasure before you shake in a climax.

When all you see is white, and your body vibrates in stimulation, the older woman just melts against you in an embrace. The sensation of your orgasm and her cum painting your insides practically throws you into overdrive; your head dizzy and eyes cloudy.

“Green, baby?”

You nod, whimpering when she moves against you the slightest. “Your—”

You cry out when she pulls out and you feel her finish spill out; wetting the sheets and her below you. You can barely see straight but when you do, and you finally see clear of the redhead, she’s already for a finger or two back into your cunt; pushing and playing with cum as she smears it everywhere.

She looks in awe.

“Natty?”

Her eyes travel back to you. Then and there, you know you won’t be getting any sleep.

Y/N: You are pretty cute when you are nice

Natasha: what am I when I’m not nice

Y/N: hot as fuck

Natasha:*smirks and blushes*

the black widows + braids

Clint Barton’s House of Strays, by me and @geeodes

A whole one person said they were interested so get fuckin ready

In a post-S.H.I.E.L.D., post-Sokovia Accords world, where is Natasha to stash dozens of newly freed child assassins?

- is what she says when she shows up at Clint’s door with Yelena, Melina, Alexei, and five widows under the age of 20 trailing behind her

Clint:

Natasha:

Yelena:

Melina:

Alexei:

The widows:

Clint:

Clint: So are you guys staying for dinner, or…?

They did stay for dinner

And dessert

And breakfast the next morning. Clint’s kids come downstairs to find five child spies asleep on the floor in living room, and the five child spies wake to see three kids in matching pajamas openly staring at them

Clint and Laura talk, and soon enough, Widows start flooding in.

Sent by Yelena from all over the world, girls ranging from six to thirty show up in droves

After a while shoving Widows on couches and mattresses and guest bedrooms, Clint convinces Laura to let him start a new project.

With Natasha, Alexei, Melina, and eventually Tony’s help, he builds a lodge beside the farmhouse.

Bedrooms go in on the top floor; bunk beds for reunited sisters, singles for girls who have never known a quiet night’s sleep, a wide kitchen on the main floor stuffed with food the girls have never had the chance to eat.

Widows who don’t want to stay at the farm are sent to the Avengers Tower (which Tony did not sell, *cough*) and are given access to therapy and job opportunities, and anything else they could need while they adjust to life outside the Red Room

It brings more controversy down on Tony, but what else was he gonna do? Say no?

He considers it after one particularly indoctrinated 6-year-old tries kicking his ass and has to be pulled off him by Natasha

The lodge becomes a safe haven for Widows, even after they’ve found their places in the world.

It takes a while for some to forgive Melina for her part in their enslavement, but she does her best every day to earn their forgiveness.

She becomes friends with Laura Barton, their relationship awkward at first but eventually effortless. The two share looks that are indecipherable to others, but they conduct entire conversations without saying a word. Natasha is befuddled.

Alexei warms up to the Barton kids immediately. They hang off his arms while he booms war stories and nonsense, shrugging off Clint’s concerns

“Relax, Robin Hood. They are soft and squishy, they learn to be strong!”

“… Whatever you say.”

Thanksgivings at the Barton farm start moving outside. Long tables are stuffed with Widows of all ages, Avengers, agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., families, and anyone else who will fit, crowding around in the kitchens and living rooms and fields, swapping stories and inside jokes

Nowhere in the world is totally safe, but the Barton farm feels pretty close

beefy nat and a tiny reader at a supermarket

warnings: beefy!nat x filipina!reader, this is more of general!nat but whatever i enjoyed this anyways

You were practically at awe at the selection of snacks on the wall. With your eyes wide and mouth agape, Natasha couldn’t help but chuckle at your little dance when you found the snack that you had been craving since a week ago.

“See, Natty?” You turned to your girlfriend with a grin as you hugged the bag of V-Cut chips to your chest. “I told you Seafood City had them.”

The redhead shook her head playfully. “Well, you didn’t really give me much choice when you dragged me into the car, now did you?”

You gave her a shrug as a smile lined your lips. You knew no matter how much you annoyed her, she couldn’t resist you.

Which is how you ended up dragging her through five different aisles, throwing in whatever snack you wanted without care as she just watched and pushed the cart in tow.

“What’s that one, baby?”

You turned around with a pack of strawberry flavoured Mogu Mogu in your arms, your eyes wide as you looked down.

“It’s a drink, Natty. Tastes like those aloe drinks with the aloe chunks? Think you’ll like them.”

She smiled and nodded, letting you drop the pack of drinks into the cart before moving on.

“Whatever you say, baby.”

Beefy older Nat walks into their apartment to see reader trying to move a heavy couch cause something fell behind it but reader is just failing at it. So Nat uses those big beefy arms to move the couch and reader is just like entranced by Nat’s muscles and Nat teases reader.

Beefy Nat could do literally anything to me and I would agree 1000%!

warnings: beefy!older!nat x younger!small!reader, size kink and size difference. sfw

You knew you should’ve waited for Natasha to move the couch, because now? Well, you’re halfway across the living room, remote in your hand, and extremely tired from attempting to push back the extra large wine red sofa.

To be fair, the sofa was big... as in excessively big, maybe it was just you and your small frame, or the fact that your wife was a woman with a large stature that almost challenged of that Steve’s.

Still, who needed that big of a sofa right? Right...

Whatever. You’re here now, half-way there and back to it’s original spot, but it’s futile. Every groan and push of your hand barely dents the furniture and you’re there standing in the middle of your living room with a sweaty face and heaving chest.

You frown to yourself and give the couch a kick.

“Stupid fuckin’ thing... IKEA had better deals than this...” You grumble to yourself as you huff once more and get into positive to try again.

“Y’know,” the voice makes your eyes wide and body jump in surprise. When you turn, you find said red-head leaning against the arch frame with a grin as she watches you. “As much as I enjoyed that, you could’ve asked.”

You watch her stride across the apartment with no more than five steps before she stands in front of you. Her tall figure towering over you with a grin before she leans and takes your lips into her own.

“You need help, baby?”

Her breath fans against your lips like feathers and you whimper at the edge of her touch.

“‘M so tired from pushin’, Natty...”

Her chuckle fills the room before she pulls away.

“Okay, sunshine,” she turns to the couch and cracks her knuckles in preparation. “Say less.”

You practically stand there, wide eyed, and bambazolled as the redhead pushes the sofa back to its original place with ease - no sweat, no grunt, not a blink.

It should be leaving your frustrated and perhaps annoyed but at the sight of her back muscle working through the thin fabric of her Lululemon shirt, you grow aroused at the sight of those large arms caging you in and slipping in between your —

“There we go,” her voice snaps you back and she looks at you with pink cheeks. “Y’alright, princess?”

You bite your lip and nod, swaying uncomfortably in your spot before you realize that you can finally sit at a good distance from the TV.

“T-Thank you... y’know, for the sofa,” you beam up at her in gratitude and the older woman could help but grin at your small voice.

She takes your chin into her hands and lifts your head up - inches away just from your face.

“Anything for my girl.”

The Red Room (Part III)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Summary:

❝a heart that’s been broken it’s a heart that’d been loved❞  

Y/n was stripped of her childhood, taken away from her mother, and forced to join The Red Room, where she met Natasha. But years later after Natasha’s escape, their path met again. Would they go back to what they had before or did everything crumpled down the day Natasha left?

Masterlist | Request | Taglist

WARNING: contain smut

Chapter III - End Before The Start

Keep reading

hey 😘😘😘

(REAL)

i love your bottom nat fic <3333

Thanks!

Then have a little more:

NSFW with Nat:

Nat loved your birthday. That day she not only was allowed to be bratty, but you were enjoying it so much.

It all started with a few pictures in a black silk robe, with one of Nat's hands being in between her legs. But damn fabric didn't give you much of a view.

Suddenly your meeting didn't matter anymore. Your new strap in the bedside drawer did.

In a few hours you got a voice message. Muffled moan. Fuck, she almost was ready to disobey.

"Nat." You called her during a coffee break.. "Don't even think about it."

"But I miss my birthday girl." She sounded innocent, But you could hear that she was lying on the bed.

"Don't do anything, you're not allowed."

"But, baby..."

"No."

___

This phone call turned you on so much, you had to go to the bathroom and calm yourself. Nat was playing with you. And she was so good at that.

Rest of the day was clouded with the images of your nights with your wife, You hovering over her, her clinging to your wedding ring on the chain around your neck.

When you came home, you went straight to the bedroom, Nat was reading a book. As innocent as ever.

"Having fun?" You left your jacket on the floor.

"It's a good book." She husked. "I had to do something, while my woman was ignoring me."

"Did you do anything else?"

You swiftly opened her black robe and let the anticipation in the air greet her hard nipples. Nat didn't expect that and your hand that was checking how wet she was caught her off guard.

"Fuck..." She whispered.

"You truly were waiting for me." You smirked. Nat was so needy and you were sure she didn't do anything on her own, Your woman was ready to cum only from thinking about you.

"I did." Nat pulled you on top of her and gave you a sloppy kiss. Her mouth opening for your dominance.

"Good girl." You kissed her jaw, "And now..."

You opened a shelf nearest to you.

"...let me fuck my present."

Love You While You're Tired; N. Romanoff

pairing; Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

summary; you're stressed, and after waking up from a nap, natasha helps you de-stress

warnings; smut, soft!Nat, mommy!Nat, fingering, mirror sex, multiple orgasms, thigh riding, strap-on use, lots and lots of praise, oral, crying because of overstimulation

i did notice like a lot of my Nat fics are smut? I'll have to get a good fluff fic out there soon.

translation- красивая девушка/ krasivaya devushka; beautiful girl. I think?? correct me if I'm wrong

Natasha laughed at you when you waddled out of the room, only in a long tshirt. You gave her a pouty face but shuffled your feet towards her.

The older woman opened her arms, "C'mere, sleepy girl," Natasha said. You didn't give it any second thought, pushing yourself into her. Instantly, your hands found themselves under her shirt and Nat tensed at how cold they were. "You feeling okay?" You nodded, humming sleepily. Natasha nodded, understanding you were tired.

"Did you take a good nap?" Natasha continued the one-sided conversation. You let out another hum, climbing onto her lap. "Mhh. How about stress? Feeling better?" You shrugged.

"It helped, still feel tense though," You whispered, finally letting Natasha hear your groggy voice. The redhead's long fingers rubbed your back, listening to you.

"Need mommy to help?'' Natasha whispered in your ear. You let out a soft whine, "Use your words baby, I know you can," The woman encouraged.

"Want mommy to help me, please." You pulled at her shirt. Natasha nodded, slightly bucking her hips, making you now aware of the strap she was wearing. The woman positioned you on her thigh, and gave you a kiss.

''What do you want first, красивая девушка?" Natasha asked, letting the Russian name fall from her mouth.

"Your mouth, mommy," You let out a soft plead. Natasha picked you up, leading you to the bedroom. She sat you on the bed, tilting your head up.

"You're only my girl, right?" Natasha ran her hands through your hair.

"Only yours, Natasha," You whispered back. The taller woman gave you a kiss before slightly picking you up and removing the shirt from under you. Slowly she had removed the clothing, taking you in. She got on her knees in front of you, moving your panties to the side. You watched as she carefully spread your legs, giving you doe eyes as she her tongue went to lap you up.

Her tongue came in contact with your folds, causing you to let out a soft moan. You started to make a makeshift ponytail with her hair, so you could watch her devour you. Her lips found your clit, giving it a kiss before she took it in her mouth and sucked. "Oh god, Nat," You moaned, slightly arching your back. She nibbled just a tad before plungind her tongue into your hole. Letting your body fall to the bed, you squeezed her thighs together.

Her tongue curled in all the right spots, sometimes even leaving your cunt to suck your clit then going back after. Finally, your own hand found your clit, rubbing at the pace Natasha was thrusting her tongue.

"Mommy! I-I'm gonna-"

"You don't need permission from me tonight, красивая девушка." Natasha encouraged. With those words your back arched and you came. The Russian helped you ride it out, giving you ua soft peck on your thighs. "You are such a good girl, y'know that?" Natasha asked, standing up and making you sit up.

"Thank you," You accepted the compliment, pecking her lips. You were even more tired than before now, and you wanted to go back to. bedm Still though, the other half wanted Natasha to take away all the stress with her talented body.

She sat down next to you, pulling you into her lap, your back flush against her front. She was looking at you in the mirror, your legs spread and hairnall over the place. "Mommy is gonna give you her fingers, alright?" Natasha husked, "But you're not gonna look away from this mirror, I want you to see how beautiful you are." Natasha kissed down your neck and plunged two fingers into you. You threw your head back, gripping her knees. You remembered the task at hand, adjusting your head so you could watch as Natasha pumped her fingers.

You kept bucking your hips up into her, like a bitch in heat. It wasn't at the same pace, her fingers much more faster than your hips plus she was more awake than you. "Natasha, mommy, please keep going," You bit her neck, almost screaming as her thumb rubbed your clit.

You were sensitive from your last orgasm, so after a few more thrusts you came undone. Natasha wasn't done though, she kept thrusting into you until you were on the brink of a next orgasm, screaming her name. "Natasha! Holy fuck I'm gonna cum again-" You watched as her fingers curled into you, and you sobbed as you curled into a ball and came again.

"I'm so proud baby, it's alright, it's okay... You're such a good girl," Natasha praised, kissing your back. You almost felt needier at her words especially when she pulled her fingers out. Hissing, you started to grind against her thigh.

The woman was mesmerized about how much you could take. How needy you were for her. Your clit had hit her thigh just perfectly and the feelings you felt were... ethereal.

The coil in your stomach tightened and you started to see stars. Your eyes rolled back and your back arched in ecstacy. It was indescribable, the feelings you were feeling. The coil that felt so tight, so ready to burst, finally did.

Your eyes popped open, so you could see what Natasha was seeing in the mirror. Your eyes flickered down to your pussy, which was covered in your own juices, along with Natasha's thigh.

Legs still shaking, Natasha pulled you off her and laid you down. "Let's clean you up?" She teased, dropping to her own knees. Holy shit, this woman was not giving up.

First, she lapped at your legs, cleaning up the mess you made on yourself. Natasha had mumbled something along the lines of, "Such a needy girl, needing mommy to clean up your mess," And you found it so hot, the words coming out of her mouth.

Slowly though, her tongue was licking your pussy. Your hands had found her red locks as she started nipping at your overly-sensitive clit. Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes, but you found so much pleasure in Natasha. You'd repay her after.

Two of her talented fingers found your pussy once more, and while her tongue slipped into you, her thumb rubbed your clit.

"Oh, Mommy! Shit," Your thighs clenched over her head as you pulled her hair, something to distract you from the pleasurable pain. You were already so close.

Her tongue hit your g-spot oh so perfectly, and once again you were cumming. This time though, you were sobbing. You could help but cry out as you came, tears spilling down your face.

Natasha pulled away, quickly pulling you into her arms as she praised you for being such a good girl. Telling you she was sorry for making you cry, mommy was just trying to make her little girl feel better. You had dismissed the apologies, telling her she was the best person ever, and now you were in the hands almost another orgasm.

Natasha was pounding into you, her strap relentless. Your breasts were against the mattress and Natasha had your hands pinned above your head.

"O-oh, you're so tight baby," Natasha rubbed you clit roughly as she was on the brink of her orgasm. Your body shook, and you twisted your hand to hold hers. You couldn't imagine what Natasha was feeling right now, she told you before how much it turned her on watching you cum, so you could only imagine bliss she was feeling.

"Cum with me Mommy," You whispered and the both of you fell apart. Natasha came with a loud moan of your name, and your voice, that was slowly becoming raw from how much noise you made today, silently screamed. Natasha had fallen against you, and slowly, you drifted to bed.

The Blind Date - Series

gif creds: @lcufeysons

Summary: Hilarity and a whirlwind adventure ensues when your best friend Sam sets you up on a blind date.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

pulling your lover closer by the waistband

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 633

[100 Kisses Masterlist] // [Main Masterlist]

Moving out of the compound was one of the best decisions you ever made. 

Don’t get you wrong, you loved living with your friends. But after living under the same roof as seven superheroes for over five years, you were ready to rip out your hair. From interrupted date nights to the lack of personal space, all you wanted was some peace and quiet every once and a while. 

So when you and Natasha finally tied the knot last year, she brought you out to a lakeside house, surprising you with two matching sets of keys. 

Keep reading

notes- am I making this a wandanat fic? Who knows! I'm just having fun with the story right now but I'm always open to suggestions and requests. I hope you enjoy, happy reading! Xxx

Overview- you are a high ranking Hydra agent but you want out. What will happen when a group of heroes you have tried to take down take you under their wing. They say, love is an unpredictable force and you might just find it here.

So wrong it's right

part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Part five-

Bruce and Tony were rigging you up to several machines for testing whilst Steve and wanda watched on anxiously.

The fluorescent lighting of the lab mixed with all the loud chattering gave you a splitting headache. Wanda had picked up on it immediately and began to rub soothing patterns into your skin. “Your eyes are glowing” she whispered gently while you leaned into her touch.

Her warm touch and soothing words grounded you. You sighed contently and kept your eyes trained on hers, causing the blue glow to fade away. “Good” she hummed as the light diminished.

“Wanda, how did you just do that?” tony marvelled from beside a machine you were hooked up to. “I didn't do anything” wanda replied mirroring his confusion. “Y/N had enough power around her to light up half of new york and as soon as you touched her it disappeared. Meaning you either absorbed it or bootleg Elsa here can create and destroy energy as she pleases.”

“Electricity... Power.... Energy. THATS IT TONY! The powers surfaced after being exposed to the arc reactor and since we can safely assume that she was tested on in some capacity while with hydra, We can deduce that y/n was exposed to a power similar to the arc reactor which gave her the powers. This leaves us with three big questions, what was this power source? Why is her power fabricated through ice and water? And why would hydra train her as an assassin if they knew she had the power of element bending.” Bruce interjected before typing frantically on a pop-up screen.

“Well, before I froze the entire tower I had a vision of myself being pushed into a snowstorm by a scientist but that's all I saw. No technology like the arc reactor” you replied from the examination chair.

“If we can trigger another one of these visions, then we can learn more about the power” Bruce replied with determination. The whole room turned to you expectantly. “I don't know how I did it, I was just talking to nat and then next minute I'm watching myself being experimented on” you sputtered while your mind was in a spin with all the new information.

“I could try to look ?” Wanda asked calmly. Bruce and tony agreed without hesitation but she waited patiently for your response.

You nodded hesitantly, despite steve’s interjections.

Her warm hands now buzzed with power as they touched your head. She was scarily concentrated as she rummaged around your mind. Silence filled the room for several minutes before she leaned away and her power faded.

“I could only find some doctors notes, they were fuzzy and hard to read but i could make out some important pieces.

‘Subject 246

The subject is responding to experimentation well; just as hypothesised she is beginning to control electricity as well as the previously discovered water elemental magic. It seems the more energy we expose her to, the more her power progresses.

I have approved phase three of testing

Be cautious when interacting with the subject, the testing has provided her with an unprecedented amount of intelligence.

The rest was too hard to read.” she informed the group curiously

Steve made his way to you and began to pull of the wires and pads littering your body. “Thats enough. Go and rest before training” he ordered and the room erupted into loud arguing. It wasn't clear whether the argument was actually because of your predicament or if something was underlying between tony and Steve.

“She's just a kid! You're making her relive her torture, in the pursuit of what? Your own knowledge?!”

“Stay out of it rogers, this is not your war”

The shouts echoed through the corridors as you wandered out of the lab. You began to slowly make your way towards the bathroom for a much needed thoughtful shower.

There was so much for you to ponder as you stood under the rainfall of hot water. Electricity? It seemed out of the realm of possibility but so did water bending until last week. Your trip to the lab had opened so many questions, where did this all come from? What else could've had energy similar to the arc reactor?

“Youve been in there for an hour, can you get out? I need to shower before training” Natasha called from outside your bathroom. Her cries were accompanied by several knocks that were far too forceful

With a huff you turned off the shower and made your way to the door with your towel wrapped safely around u. Steam billowed into your cold room as you opened the door to reveal an impatient nat.

“don’t you have your own shower” you asked angrily. She rolled her eyes in response as if you were supposed to know why she was trying to use yours. “Yes, I have my own shower but it is broken. Obviously.” she replied shortly.

You pushed past her into your own room and allowed her access to the bathroom. “Thanks, frosty” she mocked before shutting the door of your bathroom in your face. The nickname almost felt like a dare to you, daring you to turn her shower ice cold.

The slight irritability she had sparked in you began to conjure up a small ball of icy blue tendrils that pushed their way towards the shower. You could have stopped you magic but you didn't want to. You allowed your magic to enchant the showerhead and cause the water to drop to just above freezing.

To your dismay, no reaction came from Natasha. Not a word.

Defeatedly you pulled on a combat suit Tony had provided for you and waited for Nat to finish. She was in there for barely five minutes before she came bounding out in just her underwear.

“I would've asked you to help keep me warm in there but it seems you're the reason it was cold in the first place” she accused whilst several drops of water fell from her hair. You stayed silent as you watched her muscles tense and relax as she pulled on her suit.

“Hello?!?” she called, bringing you out of your trance.

“I didn't make your shower cold” you feigned offence at her comment and did your best to cover up your staring. She grabbed your hand and held it up to your face revealing a familiar layer of frost “yes you did” she replied coldly before dropping your hand forcefully.

“Training ladies, I have a surprise I think you're going to love” Steve poked his head into the room to give a playful wink before sprinting towards the gym. Nat followed close behind him and reluctantly you pulled yourself up to follow.

Okay, I've been noticing some tension between some of us so for the next twenty-four hours we are going to be stuck with the person we have the weakest connection with. Meaning that for better or for worse the couples will be as follows: Tony and me, Thor and the big guy, vision and clint and finally wanda, nat and y/n will be in a trio”

Natasha starred daggers into Steve as he revealed we would be stuck together but wanda didn't seem even slightly phased by the instruction. You gave Tony a pleading look, hoping that he would overrule the captains instruction but instead he just laughed hysterically and clapped steves back. The three of you stood in an awkward silence for several minutes as the severity of the situation settled in.

“So, what now ?” You asked awkwardly. Natasha whirled towards you in response and punched you square in the face. “Combat” she chuckled as you stumbled backwards into wanda.

It took you a few moments to compose yourself before your flipped towards her and kicked hard into her side. She yanked your leg up from her waist, with an ironclad grip. You used your other leg to propel yourself onto her shoulder. With your thighs wrapped around her neck you flipped and slammed the both of you into the padded floor below. You both hit the floor with a hard thud, leaving you winded and bruised.

Natasha didn't give up though she forced herself up through ragged breath and pounced on your injured body. You winced in pain as she pinned you into the floor, grabbing both of your arms as she went.

“That was for ruining my shower” she growled into the closing space between your faces.

Your free legs kicked forward bringing both of you up from the floor. Natasha’s thighs were still gripped around your waist as you landed but she immeadiatly flipped backwards creating a small distance between you.

Almost instantly, Natasha came barrelling towards you and kicked into your stomach with both feet. You flew into the wall behind you sending a horrifying symphony of cracking throughout the room. The pain of the impact caused you to slump lifelessly on the floor and clutch your wounds.

A slow clap began to ring from behind the both of you. Wanda leaned against the wall behind Natasha with a devilish smirk. “Impressive Natasha but you should ask before breaking what's mine”

You and Nat both shared the same look of worry as wandas hands began to glow with her Scarlett power.

Nats face flew away from yours as she was slammed into the roof of the training room. A shower of plaster fell down on you and you watched nat squirm under the force of wandas power. Tight ropes of the crimson magic were holding her precariously up above you.

Looking back at wanda, she was now enthralled in her own magic and you couldn’t help but stare in awe as her hands moved so addictively. She met your eyes with a seductive grin for a split second before flicking her magic away.

Natasha came falling down from the ceiling.

Instinctively you threw your hands up and a pressurised stream of water spilt out of your palm. It cushioned around Natasha instantly and held her in the air a few metres from your face.

Everyone watched in awe as the stream of water held her effortlessly. As you realised what you had done you began to drop the pressure and let Natasha reach the ground gently.

Both you and Natasha were drenched in your own water while wanda wiped a few droplets from her brow. The training room shared a similar fate as water pooled on the padded ground below.

You rushed to nat to make sure she was okay after the fall but she just brushed you off coldly and made her way towards wanda. You thought she was going to do something to wanda but instead she just pushed right past her causing Wanda to smirk triumphantly.

You summoned a strong gust of wind that swept all the water away with it, leaving the training room as if nothing had ever happened.

“I think thats enough training for today” Steve commented in utter shock as he looked between the two of you.

When you and wanda turned to see where Natasha had gone the entire group stared back at you in shock and awe.

Hours after the training room altercation, you were enjoying some much needed time in starks workshop. You were trying to do some calculations to hopefully find some sort of power source like the arc reactor but of course none of them could compare.

“Hey kid, you okay?” Tony asked kindly as he stepped into the workshop. You continued to tap away at the hologram in front of you “yea, trying to find a lead on the stuff banner was talking about” you replied absently. Stark began to roam over your many calculations with concern. Lines of information, diagrams and calculations decorated the entire workshop yet none seemed to have the answers you were looking for.

He pulled you away from the screen you were working on and began to close many of the other screens crowding his workshop. As the glow.from the screens left the room, the bright moonlight began to filter in. Without even realising you had worked right into the night.

“Bruce and I will figure this out I promise” he smiled kindly before pulling up a new screen for you which showed a model of you. “If you want to stay here then you can begin designing your suit but no more calculations!” he said cheerfully.

You complied, not wanting to leave the serenity of the workshop. The suit designing was far more enjoyable than the calculations and you found yourself genuinely enjoying it.

Your model was now in a tight navy blue suit and you began to start some calculations that would determine whether or not you needed the arc reactors power. Stark however closed your pop up screen with the calculations in an almost fatherly manner. “I’ll do the math, you just design” he scolded lightly.

“I thought I'd find you two in here. Cap wants you both back upstairs immediately” Nat ordered coldly as she leaned in the doorway.

“Romanoff! We're working, so unfortunately we cannot join your boyfriend's little rendezvous upstairs “ stark quipped back.

“Y/N is playing dress-up and you are masturbating over your own technology. Upstairs now!” she ordered again before sauntering out.

“Always a delight” stark mumbled jokingly and you both headed upstairs.

Summary: Facing the threat of deportation to her home country Russia, book editor Natasha Romanoff comes to an agreement with her assistant to get married. With that, comes a visit to the assistants hometown and meeting all of her family. Can they fool everyone that they’re in love? Will they have to pretend for the rest of their lives?

Tags: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Natasha Romanoff Fic, Natasha Romanoff Fanfic, Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow Fic, Movie Fic, The Proposal (2009), Reader has Daddy Issues, Natasha is Readers Boss, Fake Marriage, Fake Dating, Meeting Family,

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Sex, Marriage?, Daddy Issues, Boss x Assistant,

Word Count: 3.4K

Taglist: @timmyslover (please ask to join through asks or message me!) Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series :)

A/N: this fic is based on the 2009 movie The Proposal with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds. some of the events have been changed to fit Natasha and to make it easier for me lol. please please leave comments or come scream at me about it :)) i’m actually estatic about this fic istg. also i’m seeing spider-man for the first time today wish me luck. just got my booster shot so i’ll exercise my arm while wiping tears

The Proposal Chapter One

Working for Natasha Romanoff is hard on a normal day. On a day like today, it’s absolute hell. You woke up later because the power in the building went out sometime in the night. Which leaves you where you are now, rushing around your apartment, looking for anything you can put on. There’s one clean dress shirt hanging in the closet, and you find the slacks you wore yesterday on the floor. They look clean enough, so you put them on, hopping around on one foot frantically while putting on one shoe.

You practically run to the Starbucks that’s close to where you work. Kate, the barista, already has your drinks made.

“You’re a lifesaver, Kate.”

“Don’t forget it,” she calls back with a smile.

You go as fast as you think you can with hot coffee, yelling apologies behind you at the people you bump into.

The elevator doors shut behind you just as you make it into them.

“Just in time,” you say to yourself, casting glances and awkward smiles at the people next to you. As soon as you hear the ding for your floor, you get again start hauling ass to Natasha’s office. Unfortunately, because that’s how today is going to be apparently, you crash into someone, spilling coffee down the front of your shirt.

A string of curses falls from your lips as you help the man up. Your shirt has dark stains all down the front. You’re pretty sure it’s not something Natasha will accept in her office.

You walk down the row of desk and stop in from of the first person you see that’s wearing something you can match with and not look like you picked a random shirt.

“I’ll give you company seats to the New York Avengers if you give me your shirt. You have five seconds to agree.” You start counting, and they run to the bathroom to change. You follow, thanking them profoundly along the way.

You rush to Natasha’s office, getting there right before she does. When Natasha walks in, you’re waiting by her desk, coffee in hand. She curtly thanks you and sits down at her desk, going through her paperwork.

She’s wearing a dark blue dress with a matching belt. Her hair is pinned back in the illusion of a simple bun, but you know how long she probably spent doing it. You’ve never seen her hair down. You know better than to ask.

“Your immigration lawyer called,” you say quickly, wanting to get this part of the day out of the way and go back to your desk.

“Cancel the appointment. And add open up my schedule on that weekend in September we talked about. Fury has decided to do Oprah.”

“Fury decided or you worked your persuasive magic on him and made the decision for him?”

“They’re the same thing,” she dismisses.

“Right. You have a conference call with Steve Rogers in 37 minutes and a staff meeting at 9:00. Also, someone called about the winter release for-“

“Tell then it is what it is and that if they think I can change time they should pay me more.”

“I’ll tell them politely no.”

“Waste of time,” she mutters. You’re about to leave when you remember that you have one more think to ask about.

“Did you have the chance to read the manuscript I sent you?” you ask, standing on the opposite side of Natasha’s desk.

“I started it, but I lost interest fairly quickly. Nothing really impressive about it.”

You start to exit the room and relax a little bit at your desk, but Natasha calls you back.

“Wait. Who is Kate and why does she want me to call her?”

You turn around slowly, meeting Natasha’s uninterested gaze. “That was mine. Yours spilled.”

“You drink a lavender latte with almond milk and foam?”

“Yes,” you say convincingly. “It tastes like summertime in my mouth,” you end lamely, your statement sounding much more like a question.

“Hm. It’s strange, because that’s my exact drink order. You wouldn’t possibly be ordering my drink for yourself in case you spill one of them because you’re scared shitless of what would happen. No, that would make you very much pathetic.”

That’s actually exactly what you do. She knows it. You know it. You should admit it. But what comes out of your mouth instead is: “Of course not. I just really like lavender coffee.”

“Mhm. The phones are ringing. Go do your job and answer it.”

“You got it.”

Again, before you leave she calls out to you. “Oh, one more thing. There’s a book fair this weekend that I need you to go to with me.”

“This weekend?” you ask.

“Yep,” she says, popping the p loudly. “Is that a problem?” Yes.

“No.”

You spend a while at your desk, taking calls and filing through the manuscripts that Natasha thinks are worth her time. You make sure to check the simple things like format and grammar, outlining them in red pen so she doesn’t have to do it.

Being an editor has always been your dream job. Growing up, books had been your form of escape from the overwhelming weight of your family. They led you through good times and bad, and gave you something to look forward to during the worst. Being Natasha’s assistant gives you an amazing opportunity to be just that, if you can make it.

You’re interrupted from a thrilling story when the phone rings.

“Ms. Romanoff’s office, how can I help you?“

“There’s my baby,” a familiar voice says.”

“Hi, Mom. I’m at work, is everything okay?”

“You sound stressed? Is that devil woman working you too hard again?” she frets. You can hear her frown.

“When is she not? Look, mom, I needed to talk to you anyway. I can’t come to Grammy’s birthday this weekend.”

“What?” You have to hold the phone away from your ear, wincing at the sudden volume of her voice. “You already bought tickets. You promised you would be here.”

“Yeah, well plans changed. It was nothing I could control.”

“Put your boss on the phone. I have a few choice words for her.”

“If only I could”- you look up to see Natasha walking over to your desk-“offer you a better deal, but unfortunately our prices are set. Goodbye.” You hang up the phone and turn to Natasha.

“Was that your mom?” she asks, walking down the aisle.

“Yep.”

“Did she want to kill me like usual?”

“Yep. She’s mad you’re making me miss Gammy’s 90th birthday.”

“Good. Consistency is key.” She stops at the door marked for D. Dreykov, knocking and pushing the glass door open.

“Ms. Romanoff, it’s good to see you,” acknowledges Dreykov, putting down his drink. With a vague sense of puzzlement you notice that it’s whiskey.

“It’s fucking eight thirty in the morning,” you murmer, low enough so Dreykov doesn’t hear. You’re pretty sure Natasha does, but she hides her smile by turning away. Even if she wasn’t, you’re going to pretend she does just to annoy her.

“You as well. How are you?” she ventures, looking pointedly at his glass.

“The same. You?“

“I can’t complain,” says Natasha, turning to a huge wooden armoire in the corner of the room.

“Is it new?” she inquires, tracing it with her fingers.

“It’s an eighteenth century piece,” he brags. “But to my office, yes it is new. You can't come here to talk about furniture, Ms. Romanoff. How can I help you?” You brace for what comes next. Knowing Dreykov, this isn’t going to go well.

“You’re fired,” Natasha says bluntly, no look of sympathy on her face. It’s a face you never hope to see looking at you.

“You better be joking,” laughs Dreykov.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“You’re overreacting. You got Fury to do the show anyway.”

“Am I? You have two months to find yourself a new job. Everyone will be told that you resigned.” With that, Natasha walks out, you right behind her.

“What’s the update? How’s he looking?” she asks, questioning you about Dreykov’s reaction. You look back and see Dreykov pacing around the room.

“Fuming. Trying to decide if he’s going to come over here.”

“Shit. Don’t do it, Dreykov. It’s the wrong move.”

“He’s doing it.”

“Damn it.” Natasha turns around to see Dreykov coming towards her.

“You bitch,” he seethes. “You fired me because you thought I was better than you! You’re threatened by me, so you took me out. This has nothing to do with the Fury interview.” His voice raises volume, attracting interested stares from the people in the office. The same people who are quick to look away whenever Natasha starts speaking.

Calmly, she explains. “You’re right. I didn’t fire you because of Fury. That would be pointless and putting my own neck on the line. I fired you because, not only are you lazy and an asshole, you treat everyone in this office, including me, your boss, like they owe you something just for being in your presence. You show up late, drink all day, and turn in shitty work. And, frankly, I just don’t like you. So there you go. That’s why you got fired. If I hear another word I’m going to have my assistant over there call security to escort you out. Looks like you won’t be resigning after all.”

He starts to speak, but Natasha cus him off. “Not another word.” Her eyebrows raise, almost challenging him to speak again. He doesn’t. Instead, he storms off to his room like a child.

“Upstairs called my office directly. I’ll have to go up there in”-Natasha checks her watch-“five minutes. After ten in the room, I want you to make up an excuse and come get me. We have to much to do.”

“Sure thing.” Natasha heads the opposite direction while you go back to your desk. The office relaxes significantly as she leaves, people starting to talk about what just happened. You almost hear a sigh of relief sweep across the office when she’s gone.

You wait ten minutes, answering one call and sitting there the rest of the time. Then, you take the elevator to the next floor, deemed by everyone “the upstairs.” At the end of the hallway is a large office with huge windows.

You pop your head into the door of the office and are met with an immediate call to get out. Such polite people.

“Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen. Natasha, I have Sam Wilson on the phone for you. I told him to call back later, but he insists that it’s important and cannot wait.” You expect her to come with you like she always does when she tells you to do this, but she doesn’t move. She just stares at you, then looks back at her bosses, then back at you.

She mouths something to you that you can’t decipher. She does it again, and motions for you to go stand next to her.

“I understand the situation that I’m currently in, that’s why I think it’s important that you know…”

She puts her arm around your shoulders awkwardly and announces: “We’re getting married.”

“Who is?” you question, a fake smile on your lips.

“Us. Me and you. The lovebirds of the office,”she says through her teeth.

“Uh, right,” you turn to her bosses and smile at them, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.

“You know, she’s just so…” Natasha trails off, looking at you.

“I feel like it shouldn’t take that long to think of an adjective,” you mutter.

“Honest,” bites Natasha sweetly. “She’s honest to me. It was all those late nights together and early mornings, you really see the worst of each other. But that couldn’t stop us, could it sugarbear?” Sugarbear? Really? You send an unamused look at Natasha, who smiles pointedly back at you.

“Sure, honeycomb,” you grimace at the endearment, hoping it doesn’t sound half as ridiculous as you think it does. “We just couldn’t help ourselves from the attractive pull.”

“Something simply happened between us that I can’t explain,” concludes Natasha.

“Something definitely happened. And there’s definitely no logical explanation,” you agree.

“Is this-this is what you want, right? This is good?” Natasha motions between the two of

you, looking at the two men in front of you. They’re both wearing business smiles.

“Just make it official,” one says, pointing to his ring finger.

“That’s hot,” says the other. You want to punch him. You don’t think your fiancé (?) would appreciate that, though.

“Great. We’ll go to the immigration office right now and get this all sorted out. Thank you, gentlemen.”

“Of course. Ms. Romanoff, Ms…” the man at the desk trails off, giving up on remembering you name. He shrugs and goes back to his work.

“Ouch,” you murmur. You walk the rest of the way in silence, trying to figure out what’s going on. Natasha looks completely calm and in control.

Once you make it to you office, you shut the door, expecting some sort of explanation. Instead, Natasha sits down and starts working.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Do you want to tell me what that was about? Because last time I checked we aren’t engaged and very much aren’t in love.”

“I was going to be deported to Russia and fired. This makes it where that doesn’t have to happen,” she states simply.

“And why would I comply with this? No offense, but I don’t need you to have a career here,” you inquire.

“Because if you don't, do think you’re going to be fired.” You raise your eyebrows at her, and she continues. “Dreykov, who we just fired, is going to take my place. You think he’s going to keep you around? I can answer that for you. No. He’s not. So if you want to be an editor, you’ll do this.”

“Jesus fucking shit.”

“That’s quite a swear,” notes Natasha mildly. “Don’t stress about it. We’ll get married, wait for me to get my green-card, and then get a quick divorce. Easy.”

“Easy,” you repeat, not convinced. Natasha tells you to clear her schedule for today and get all the papers ready to go to the immigration office. By the time you’re done, she’s waiting at your desk for you. “Let’s get this over with. Did you make an appointment?”

“I don’t think you know how this works.”

You’re proved correct when she skips the line, cutting in front of tons of people.

“You can’t just do that,” you protest.

“I just did.” You sigh and follow her, apologizing to the people you just cut in front of.

“I need this to file for a fiancé visa, please,” she says. She slides the papers across the desk, and a man approaches.

“Ms. Romanoff?” he asks.

“Yes?” Natasha answers, looking up from her phone.

“I need you to follow me.”

She turns to you. “See, I know how to do this.” The man leads you to a small room with a table and three chairs. He sits in one and the two of you sit across from him.

“I’m Mr. Smith. And you just be her fiancé?” he asks, looking at you.

“Yes. That’s me. Natasha’s fiancé,” you say smoothly. Natasha kicks you under the table.

“We appreciate you seeing us on such short notice. It all just happened so quickly,” thanks Natasha.

“That it did,” you agree. She kicks you again.

“I just have one question to ask you, and then you can be on your way.” He turns to face you. “Are you marrying Ms. Romanoff to save her from being deported to Russia, therefore committing fraud which has a penalty of five years in prison?” You stare at him with his mouth open like an idiot. Natasha tries to speak up, but he stops her.

“Because that’s what we think you happen to be doing, let me explain the steps that you will have to go through.”

“First, we ask around. Friends and coworkers will be asked if they know anything about you. Then, we ask families. After that, we check phone records and sightings. Lastly, there’s an interview. You will be asked everything about each other. If there’s even a slight difference in your answers, Romanoff will be deported and you will be put into jail for at least five years under the charges of fraud.”

“Unfortunately, your scare tactics won’t work because I’m totally and completely in love with this woman,” says Natasha, startlingly convincingly.

“What she said,” you second, trying not to sound miserable.

“If you’re not going to cooperate, things are going to get worse.”

“Ms. Romanoff, have you told your family about the engagement?” he asks blandly.

“My birth mother is dead and even she didn’t know who my father was. My adoptive father just got out of prison in Russia and my mother is on a farm with no way to contact her,” states Natasha matter-of-factly.

“It says here that you have a sister, Yelena Belova.”

“I haven’t seen her in years.”

“Are you currently in contact with her?“

“Yes, but we don’t talk about our dating lives,” Natasha says.

“What about you, ma’am? Have you told your family?”

You try to stutter out an answer, but nothing of substance comes out. You look at Natasha, hoping for a lifeline.

She rolls her eyes at you. “We were going to tell her family this weekend. It’s Grammy’s birthday.”

“How old is she turning?”

“90. Right, baby?” Natasha asks you. You nod.

“That’s a big one. She can’t come here. Where does Grammy live?”

You’re completely positive that Natasha doesn’t know this. “Why am I answering all the questions? It’s her family,” laughs Natasha effortlessly.

“My family is from Sitka. Everyone but me lives there.”

“Fine. Friends? Do any of them know? Or does anyone at your work know?”

“We couldn’t tell them because…” Natasha looks at you for help.

“Because of my big promotion. I was going to be promoted to editor next year, which was a decision made before we started dating, and we didn’t want people to think-“

“Right,” he cuts you off. Mr. Smith sighs and tells you that you can go. “I’m warning you, though. I’ll make sure that this is real.”

“God forbid the book editors start taking over America,” mutters Natasha. “Thank you for your cooperation,” she calls back at Mr. Smith, flipping him off.

You walk quickly out of the building, Natasha right on your heels.

“We’re going to have to push back all of our meetings for this weekend. Can you call Steve and tell him? And we need to get a first class plane for today to Sitka. And get me the vegan meal, last time I had this terrible chicken salad,” says Natasha.

“I’m sorry, were you not in the same meeting as me? I could go to jail for doing this, and the only reason I am is so I probably don’t get fired,” you exclaim, halting your walking.

“Well, what do you want?” she asks impatiently.

“I want to be an editor.”

“I’m not promoting you to editor,” she laughs.

“Then I’m not doing this. Being your assistant for the next few years isn’t worth the possibility of jail. Have fun in Russia.”

“Fuck,” she groans. “Fine. Welcome to the fucking team.”

“And I want my manuscript published.”

“Ten thousand copies,” she agrees.

“And if I’m going to do this, you’re going to have to ask me nicely.”

“Fine. Marry me,” she says flatly.

“You can do better than that. Come on, get down on a knee and ask me to marry you.”

“I’m not doing that,” she hisses.

“Have fun in Russia, Natasha,” you reply cheerily, starting to walk away.

“Jesus. Okay, okay! I’ll do it.” Muttering insults under her breath, she slowly gets down on her knees. “Dearest love, will you marry me? Nothing would make me happier.”

“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, but I accept,” you say.

“You don’t really have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” you say lightly.

“Is it really a choice when one of the options is absolutely shitty?” she questions, still on the ground.

“Sure it is. I’ll see you at the airport.”

“You’re not going back to work?” she stands up clumsily, her skirt getting caught on her heel. It’s one of the only times you’ve seen her not the epitome of perfection. It’s almost endearing. It would be more so if she wasn’t asking you about work, but you’ll take baby steps.

“Fuck no. I’ve earned the day off. Bye sugarbear.”

“Piss off, homeycomb.”

HI HAPPY NEW YEAR- mediocre nat and r having a night out and r saying goodbye after nat drops her off but not saying she loves her and nat is like ?? hello??

hello thats very cute and in character but i am so tired ive been ready to collapse for like over a day so whatever tf im writing after this is what ur getting

This Friday date night goes a lot better than Nat's McDonald's fuckery from last week. You take her to that bar she likes near work, paying for the french fries you shared and the first two rounds. There was some game playing on the TV that you don't really follow but Nat clearly does because she laughs every time one of the teams fails. You don't think she really has a sports team she roots for and she admits she just picks the one with nicer uniforms to care about anytime sports comes on the TV.

When her team of the night wins, she plants a kiss on you that has someone at the bar hollering. You wince when she pulls away to glower at the man.

After that, you'd looped your arm around hers and you'd had a nice walk through the park. Skipped rocks in the pond. She had done a better job. In character, of course, but annoying nonetheless.

Tomorrow, she leaves for a mission, so she has to head to the tower tonight to pack up her gear and you've got an empty house for the foreseeable future.

It's sad.

You spend the car ride to your house gripping her hand and staring at the streetlights. Nat turns up the radio and taps the steering wheel to the beat of the song.

Nat leaps out of the car the moment she pulls into your driveway while you twist around to grab your tote bag from the backseat. When Nat comes and opens your door for you, you smile and take her hand.

Still, there's a sense of melancholy falling over you already. You sigh for the fifteenth time tonight and Nat just squeezes your fingers.

"I'll be back before you know it," she says into your shoulder while you fish your keys out of your bag.

"Now I have to take the bus to work," you say, sullenly.

"Tony would probably get you a car service if you asked."

You huff. Sometimes, you can't tell if she's fucking with you or if she's really that dense. One of the downsides of how casual the two of you are with each other, how often you poke fun at each other.

"What?" she huffs when you stomp to the living room to throw your bag on the couch.

"Now I have to fuck myself if I get horny." You spin quickly to glower at her. "And don't even say anything about Tony. We both know you'd probably commit some sort of atrocity if I ever did that just because you're emotionally constipated."

Nat scowls too. "Pot kettle black much."

The both of you squint at each other for a few long moments before you give in--always you first--and cross the distance to where she's leaning in your doorway.

Nat watches, impassive, as you pick up her hands. Lets you tug her closer to your body. "You know I own a cellphone, right?"

"Phone sex?" you mumble into her shoulder. "On the job?"

You can basically hear her eye roll. "No. You are so not getting off while I'm gone. But you don't have to act like I've got a terminal illness just because I'm going on a business trip."

Business trip. As if her business trip isn't some life-endangering superspy mission in god-knows-where, Europe, involving superhumans and, like, missiles.

"Come on," she says, pulling back so she can bump your chin up with your linked hands. "Send me pictures of your meals or whatever the hell normal people do."

"You'd just leave me on read," you grumble.

"I'll send you pictures of MREs so you can ignore me too." She's aiming for levity.

You are too down in the dumps to do anything but force a tiny smile and lean in for a quick kiss. She has to go soon. Too soon.

Nat tilts her head to catch your eyes. There's a hint of concern on her face. "Back before you know it."

"Don't break into my house again," you say, hoping your smile is more convincing this time. She's a superhero. No need to worry about a clingy girlfriend.

"No promises." She presses in for another kiss before stepping back, releasing your hands. "Bye, baby."

"Okay," you say with a heaving sigh, leaning on your door. Usually, you would watch her get in her car, wave at her through the window, and then disappear down the street.

Today, Nat does not move an inch. Looks at you expectantly.

She raises her eyebrows. "...bye."

You frown. "Bye?" you say slowly.

Still, she waits.

"Don't die," you offer. No movement. "...I would be sad."

Nope.

"I might even cry."

"Jesus," Nat growls out, spinning on her heel and storming off your porch. She's actually mad. You can tell.

You fumble with the door, making sure it's unlocked, before chasing after Nat. She's already at the wheel by the time you're knocking on her window.

She gives the wheel a look so searing, you're surprised it still has the gall to exist. Then, she rubs at her eye with an aggravated fist. Then, the window rolls down and she looks over at you with a tired look.

"What did I do?" you ask immediately, hands curling over the car door.

"Nothing."

You reach out to touch her cheek, something inside your chest aching something fierce when she flinches. "Nat," you say softly, voice thin from how much this hurts. Unexpected hurt, really. Pot kettle black, indeed. "Come on."

"I," she starts, stops to wince, continues with more gusto: "I will miss you."

"I'll miss you too," you reply quickly, hand tilting her face to look more fully at you. "If you died, I think I would never recover."

"I won't die," she murmurs into your palm, eyes pinned on you now.

"Promise?"

Nat smiles, a small roll to her eyes. "Sure, I promise."

"Okay." You nod, tipping onto your toes and tugging her face in to meet you in a chaste kiss. "I love you, okay? If you break your promise, I'll kill you."

Nat looks at you like you've hung the moon and the stars in the sky. Disguised, of course, by a wry shake of the head. "Haven't broken a promise to you yet. Won't start now. But also that made no sense."

"Get off my property, truther."

Nat grins, then, yanks you in for another hard kiss before letting you back up a few steps.

Her taillights disappear around the bend. Your heart feels heavy in your chest. She'll be back before you know it.

this is for the lgbt

yo dark nat. kind of domestic, not very serious, kind of dumb, but it’s borne of a thought i had. unedited because i’m lazy and thought you all deserved smth lolll

Keep reading

the holidays with older!nat

it’s you i’m thinking of

you spend your first christmas away from your girlfriend, and the older woman has a bad habit of teasing the fuck outta you

warnings: older!nat x younger!shy!innocent!reader, age gap relationships, phone sex, guided masturbation, and not proofreading.

merry christmas and happy holidays everyone! 🎄

With the phone against your ear, you attempted to keep your focus situated on the movie that was playing on your TV. Home Alone, the movie playing, a sort of homage to you and your girlfriend’s favourite movie and the redhead’s current holiday situation.

Through the speaker, your phone rang once, twice, then thrice before Natasha picked up. With her voice soft and gentle, you couldn’t help but smile at the sound of it. Your whole face aching with glee as you listened to your girlfriend greet you in tow.

“Hey, baby.”

You bit your lip in suppressing a smirk. Instead, you dawned your focus as you twirled the strings of your sweatpants around a finger.

“Hi, Tasha, how are you?”

“Good. I just woke up from a nap.” She hummed in content, slumber evident in her tone as she sounded every bit sultry and rough.

You frowned at the revelation. “Oh, I hope I didn’t wake you up. I’m sorry, Natty...”

Almost as if you could visualize it, the shake of her head as she sat up straight against her bed, you heard the creaking noise as Natasha rose up.

“You didn’t, baby. You’re okay. I’ve been napping for like three hours now. You were perfect timing.” You could hear the grin on her lips by her tone and in tow, it had you smiling to yourself like a nearly sane person.

But when the echo of your TV made the loneliness all too real, a frown lined your lips in return. You couldn’t help but sigh audibly against the phone, your guilt and shame wrecking through you despite Natasha’s words.

“I wish I could be there with you. Christmas isn’t the same without you here, Tasha.”

“I know, baby,” the redhead shared the same disappointment present in your tone, and while the situation was way out of your control, your feelings of misery was still ever present for the both of you. “I wish I was beside you right now. I’ve been stuck with Stark and his annoying ass family. I just want to hear your voice.”

You nodded at her words, smiling to yourself as you unconsciously watched the movie play on. Your lips widened at the thought and you almost couldn’t wait to tell Natasha about your day.

“I thought about you today, Natty.”

“Mmh, yeah? What about?”

The implication was present in her tone and the way your girlfriend’s voice fell like sweet, frozen honey made your legs clench together and body shiver in need.

You licked your lips just as you did, trying to pursue the facade you had, resisting Natasha and her lustful advances, but however much you did, the older woman was a hot redhead that everyone coveted.

With striking silken red hair, and creamy pale skin that reached over the miles of her legs, she was the catch everyone wanted. Both men and women, you were somehow lucky enough to have the older woman all to yourself.

“I-Um... It was a silly idea. I don’t think it’s appropriate.” You shook your head at the reminded thought. The idea motivated by lust, and in the evident unfulfilled needs from your girlfriend.

And now, the older woman had your cheeks warm in embarrassment and legs pressed together as attempted to coax the thought from you.

“Nothing is inappropriate when it comes to me. Cmon, tell me. I’m curious to what little naughty thoughts go on in that pretty head of yours, baby.”

You huffed, eyes up to the ceiling of your childhood bedroom before you were hesitant to speak your truth.

“I don’t know, I thought it would be a good idea. I thought I looked good today—”

“Oh, I bet you did, sweetheart.”

“Tasha...”

Natasha laughed across the phone, her chuckle loud as she found pleasure in teasing you on and on without remorse. “I’m sorry, baby. Continue.”

“I thought I looked good today. So, I don’t know, I wanted to send you an inappropriate photo.”

Natasha grinned at your words, but the game of teasing you has been so fun, she just couldn’t let it go. She was hoping your cheeks were just firing up the way it did when she teased you.

“A what photo?”

She heard you sigh through the phone, evidently embarrassed and quite obvious to what Natasha was asking.

“You know, those kinds of photo.”

Natasha hummed in faux query, feigning oblivion to your implications of photos.

“Oh, I’m not quite sure what those enquire, my love.”

A groan vibrated through the call, your frustrations evident as you spoke. “You know what I mean, Natty. You know? Nudes. Pictures of me... naked, I think.”

“You think?”

Your eyes shut close, the embarrassment rushing through your veins as you silently kick your feet against your bed.

“Uh, I don’t know. I’ve never sent pictures of myself like that before, I guess. It was just me topless. Nothing special.”

Natasha laughs at your words, the innocence and timidity of your tone. She’s ever wondered how you even found your way through such harsh world. The older woman ever nearly feels bad for her own seniority over you.

A woman like her, nearing late thirties, she shook her head of the thoughts and smiled at your coyness. She didn’t need that negativity mixed with all the frustration present in both of your lives.

Instead, Natasha called your name softly and caught your attention. “Did you send it, sweetheart?”

You shook your head at her question, only for the realization to settle in that she wasn’t able to see you at all.

“No, I thought it would’ve distracted you at work.”

The redhead chuckled once again and it had your cheeks firing up in embarrassment. “Oh, I’m sure that your tiny little body would’ve been a distraction.” Natasha paused for a moment as she settled into the silence. “Can I see the photo?”

Your eyes widened and lips parted at her question, surprised that she actually wanted to see it. Granted, your girlfriend hasn’t had much sex with you ever since the holidays and now that the both of you were away from each other for the first time, your needs grew and so did the older woman’s.

“I deleted it, Natty. I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would actually want—”

“Don’t apologize, my love.” You smiled at her words and fell deeper into your pillow. “Can you turn on your camera for me?”

You scrambled to hold your phone properly, with Natasha on speaker, you attempted to find the button to switch it to FaceTime. When you did and the screen loaded, you were greeted by the face of your lovely lover.

“There you are, baby.” Natasha’s smile was still ever so vibrant despite the din lighting of her bedroom. Only a part of her face was slightly illuminated, you guessed that she had a lamp on, ever so faint and dim, you could still see every freckle on her pale face.

“Hi, Natty. I’ve missed you.”

You grinned giddily at your girlfriend, bottom lip rolled between teeth, while you practically bat your lashes at her.

“You look pretty like this, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes at her compliment. Natasha had always been your number one supporter no matter what. You suppose that’s what you adored about her, her presence, and her wonderful elegance even when she drew the spotlight onto you.

“You can’t even see me properly.”

She hummed in disagreement. “I think your fairy lights are doing a great job of illuminating your face.”

With a giggle, you buried your face into your duvet. Natasha on the other end was grinning from ear to ear as she watched the whole thing play, her chest beating out of her chest at the sight of you.

“What’re you doing right now, baby?”

You watched her adjust herself on her bed, then reach for something out of frame. When she returned, there was a glass in front of her as she took a generous sip of red wine.

“Just layin in bed. Y’know, talking to you.”

“Alone, I hope?”

You bit your lip in tow to her question. The implication present in your girlfriend’s tone making your cheeks heat up. But softly, you spoke.

“Everyone’s asleep.”

You heard her set the glass of wine down. The sound of rustling echoing through your earbuds as Natasha moves against her bedsheets.

“That’s good, baby,” you watched as her tongue made an appearance and lick her lips, her green eyes were so oddly prominent you couldn’t help but be intimidated. “Can you do me a favour? Just for tonight? You can say no if you don’t want to.”

“Anything, Natty.”

Her smile widened and you watched in anticipation for her next request.

“Can you touch yourself for me tonight?”

You froze in your bed, eyes wide and cheeks hot and fiery to the touch. It was so undeniably silent that even Natasha froze in doubt.

When you swallowed your shame and found the voice to speak, you looked at your girlfriend through your phone in embarrassment.

“You know I always touch myself because of you.”

Natasha’s smile was evident and almost laughable when she realize that you weren’t understanding what she had been asking.

The redhead bit her cherry stained lips and shook her head with a chuckle. “Can you touch yourself for me through the phone? Thinking of me just as always?”

“Natty...”

She saw the embarrassment on your face and she shook her head in disagreement. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, sweetheart. I can always wait for when you get back from the holidays.”

“No, it’s just that,” you turned away from the phone with a pursed lip, “I— I’ve never done anything... like that before.”

“That’s okay, baby,” Natasha smile encouragingly at you and your features softened at her face, “You want me to help you?”

You nodded meekly, shy and filled with guilt.

Natasha hummed, her lips wide with a grin as she moved around her bed to her comfortable. You were already aching in need and Natasha could tell with the way you nervously bit your lip in anticipation for her response.

“Can you put your hand under your shorts?”

“Okay...”

Nervously, you parted your legs, just as Natasha watched through the screen, you sighed a shaky breath when you felt yourself soaking through your panties.

“Do you feel yourself, baby?”

You nodded with your bottom lip stuck between teeth. “It’s sticky down there.”

Natasha couldn’t help but blush at your response. Despite being older and being experienced, your shy response has the older woman blushing with excitement. The idea that you’re greatly starved has her core shaking and aching for relief.

“You’re wet, baby.” She hummed softly, “Do I make you wet, honey?”

You nodded.

“I need you here so bad, Natty. I miss you.”

“Oh, baby,” the older woman threw her head back with a frown, with her neck exposed to the camera, you hissed at the sight and whined with lust, “I miss you so much more. God, those videos of you aren’t enough anymore.”

Breathless, you spoke with a grin. “I suppose we can always make more?”

“Fuck me,” Natasha clicked her tongue when she shook her head. Her eyes went dark and you giggled at her reaction. “You’re going to get me in so much trouble with this phone bill, aren’t you?”

Playfully, you frowned. “I supposed you don’t want to see me like this anymore?” Natasha watched as you sat the phone up against a pillow, her view is now of that between your legs with your hand buried deep into your shorts.

With the straps of your tiny camisole and despite the shitty fairy lights that illuminated your room, she could see the way your perked nipples pressed against the cotton top.

“Goddamnit, baby.” The redhead shook her head with a sigh, while you licked your lip as your hand sawed back and forth under your shorts.

You could tell Natasha was getting inpatient with the way a scowl presented itself on her face and she made sure to voice it as she adjusted herself once more on her bed.

“Take your shorts off, princess. I want to see this sweet pussy.”

Your cheeks flush warm at her words, considering your girlfriend has never been this vocal about such sexual behaviour as she knew your lack of experience and such shyness, the word fell like curses.

Nevertheless, you followed her demands and lifted your bottoms off the bed just enough to slip the shorts off. Teasingly, you left yourself in your panties and kept your legs parted so your girlfriend could see the prominent wet spot on where you touched yourself.

“I said take it off, baby.”

You gave your girlfriend a frown. “I’m shy, Natty.”

“Don’t make me ask again.”

With a whine, you followed her demands. Your slender fingers hooked itself underneath the band of your underwear before you tugged them off gently from your legs.

But you kept your legs closed in embarrassment, ever so prominent in the way you fluttered and batted your lashes.

“My shy little girl,” you smiled at Natasha’s words. “Look how wet you are, baby, and it’s all for me, isn’t it?”

With a nod, you sighed and threw your head in pure lust. To say you missed your girlfriend was an understatement. You craved her so much that the simple thought of her kissing you, holding your hand, or merely pecking your cheek had your head in a daze.

“All for you, Natty...”

Subconsciously, your own hand travelled between your legs, and as it did, your body danced to its own accord and parted your legs in tow for your wandering hand.

Natasha’s hum vibrated against the phone when she watched you slip your delicate fingers between sodden lips. Your cunt deliciously parted with it wetting the length of your finger, and you felt the wetness of it just under the pads of your finger.

Just as softly, you circled your clit, that swollen little thing, right under your fingertips as you swirled your hand with a sigh.

The room was undeniably quiet and you knew that Natasha was touching herself just as much as you were. While tipsy on the red wine she was drinking, you knew your absence was affecting her much more.

Her whimper flooded your ears and it challenged you to quicken your own pace. You watched as Natasha settled her phone on her nightstand, and as she did, you were now able to see the upper half of her body laid against her bed. Her tank top pushed up just enough that you could see the curves of her breasts and the tone muscles of her abs, all the while she had her own hand buried under her shorts.

“Natty...”

Even out of the frame, you knew she had that gentle smile on her lips as she spoke back to your call.

“I’m here, baby,” you sighed at her voice, “keep touching your pussy for mommy, keep going, hon.”

You fastened your pace and as you did, a whiny moan left your lips. Your sawing hand was sloppy and careless and even despite it all, Natasha was enjoying the view of you rubbing yourself for her.

She merely imagine it was her hand that was doing the job, the only thing is, she would’ve probably shoved her fingers inside of your drooling cunt minutes before. She was an impatient thing and as she called for your name in the heat of the moment, she knew what she wanted from you next.

“Shove your fingers inside, baby.”

You froze in place and your legs clenched on instinct. You even looked at the camera as if she could see you. “What?”

“Pretend it’s my fingers. Just think of me.”

A giggle fell from you as you shook your head.

“It’s always you I’m thinking of.”

She hummed. “Cmon, darling. I wanna see you fill your cunt. Stretch it out for me before I come back, yeah?”

“Okay...”

Both cautiously and hesitantly, with a lip between teeth, your fingers dropped and travelled south. Between your wetness and your arousal, you teased your entrance for show for your girlfriend.

The sight made her groan as her hand worked faster. You whimper when you slipped that first finger inside, despite delicate and thin fingers, you were tight just the way your girlfriend liked it.

“Natty,” your desperate call for your girlfriend let her know you were close, and with the way Natasha knew you, she was more than well aware just she mimicked your actions.

“I know, baby,” her chest heaved in tow, “I want you to come for me, okay? Fuck yourself harder, cmon.”

You threw your head back and with a quickened pace, you reached your high with a squeal leaving your lips. Natasha’s end was any better, the woman was heaving in response, and as the two of you finished in sync, the both of you moaned for each other’s presence.

“Natty, it’s too much.”

Just as Natasha’s hand slowed down to a stop, she sighed when she pulled her hand and sodden fingers out from her shorts. She knew you were watching and when she neared the camera and licked her saturated finger, she heard your whimper.

“You did so well for me, baby.” She took the phone back into her hand and laid comfortably against the headboard. “‘S alright now, baby. You can relax.”

When you did, all the while laid on your bed naked, you smiled rather lazily when you took back the phone. Your lover was looking back at you with reddened cheeks and the embarrassment settled in to your bones when you realized what you had just done.

“We just did that...”

Natasha grinned.

“Mmh, and you were so good for me, baby.”

“Natty... Don’t say things like that.”

The redhead shrugged. “I’m just stating facts. Although, I will need to see the live action version when I do come back.”

“You’re insatiable, Natty.”

“Only for you, my love.”

“I must be special then.”

Natasha nodded. “Oh, yes. Very.”

You both shared a grin which yours softly became a smile. The silence was comforting as the two of you stared at each other until someone broke the ice.

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

Your eyes twinkled when you looked up and saw the clock on your wall strike the twelve. You turned back to Natasha with a glimmer in your gaze. Even despite the time difference and that it had been Christmas for her three hours ago, you were in awe at how your girlfriend made you all goey.

“Merry Christmas, Natty,” you sunk your head down into your pillow and purred her name, “I love you.”

Natasha’s lip twitched. “I love you most.”

Peacefully, your eyes carefully fluttered closed. Natasha then knew it was time for her to give you your rest, no matter how much longer she wanted to speak to you, the sight of you sleeping wonderfully set her heart ablaze.

“See you soon, baby.”

Like A River

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 3.9K

A/N: This is part of a lovely prompt challenge I’m doing with @quietlyimplode. A bit of angst and a bit of fluff, contains some heavier themes.

There were two of you. You knew that from the start. You did not ask about her.

You were in love. You wanted to be.

Keep reading

Holy shit. Just saw Shang-Chi and it is IT. Before getting into the Chinese cultural parts of it, I'd like to note that it had a solid plot and wonderfully developed characters. The worldbuilding and CGI and the relationship building was absolutely phenomenal and I was absolutely hooked. The fight choreography was THE best choreography I've ever seen in the entirety of the MCU and the cinematography is amazing.

Now, onto the Chinese cultural references.

My god. I've never felt so seen. As a Chinese woman living in a western diaspora I've genuinely never seen something that so genuinely felt right and that truly felt like it connected to me personally. There were so many little details that I could connect to that made me feel emotional because I've never had any media that connected to me this way. It was so well done and it was so obviously done by people who lived through it.

(minor) Spoilers ahead! Just small details about the Chinese Diaspora experience in the movie.

Some little details that stood out to me included:

The food! All the food shown on screen was Chinese food - be it homemade food or dim sum platters - and those were exactly the types of plates that I grew up eating.

When Shang-Chi took off his shoes to go into Katy's house and she was wearing slippers inside the house

When he was walking through the little Chinatown area and there were the fruit cardboard boxes outside the Chinese groceries and the white sketchy dim sum sign with English on top of the Chinese

Katy struggling with her Chinese as a diaspora kid because she's only a heritage speaker and her first language is english

When Katy was struggling to pronounce Shang-Chi's Chinese name asldhhdjskala I felt that

Katy sticking to her English name despite also having a Chinese name bc she's a diaspora kid and is used to using the English name

Every single one of the magical creatures inside Ta Lo were inspired by Chinese mythology.

THE DRAGON IS A PROPER CHINESE DRAGON

Katy's parents comparing her to others and asking her to "get a better job" with her H. B. from Berkeley (I felt that)

The whole thing about familial expectations and relationships in Chinese families?? Bro. I felt that. Holy shit.

So. Much. Mandarin. I can't explain how happy I am to hear that language. Many western movies have a tendency to mainly use English with an accent but this movie used a LOT of (accurate!) mando and it makes me so happy

The architecture?? The art?? Phenomenal. Amazing. So accurate.

The shrine to the mother and the other deceased looks EXACTLY like every single Chinese cemetery I've been to, down to the photos and the incense and the fruits and all the people paying tribute to it.

The martial arts?? Oh my god. So good. I recognize it. Having trained in it and having watched multiple family members practice varying Chinese martial arts over the years I can't express how fucking happy I was to see arts such as Tai Chi and Wing Chun and Wushu on screen. I could recognize it. The forms, the movements - I can't explain how, but it felt right. It felt familiar. It felt so wonderfully connected to me.

There's probably more but it's late at night so more to come later, maybe. I'm going to just bask in the fact that this was a fantastic movie for chinese representation and I felt so seen. I went to see it with several other Chinese friends and. We came away so happy. We felt seen. We felt heard. I can't express how much this meant to us.

Representation matters.

CAPTAIN MARVEL (2019) + Letterboxd, as requested by anonymous (insp.)

Mom Nat and Dad Bucky notice their daughter is very stressed from school and they take it upon themselves to relax her and make her feel good :)

warnings: INCEST, mom!nat x dad!bucky x daughter!reader, slight cuckholding, and oral sex.

DO NOT READ if this triggers you. Your media consumption is your responsibility.

With his head between her legs, the redhead threw her own back in pleasure as the super soldier gave her cunt a languid lick. She was nearing to her finish just as both Natasha and Bucky heard their front door slam shut in surprise.

Bucky pulled away from his wife and shared a look, their heads both turning to the sound before they stood up and pulled down Natasha’s dress.

“Honey?” Natasha peaked her head into the room, worry evident in her tone just as she saw you laid stomach flat against your king size bed.

“Babydoll, you alright?” Bucky’s deep voice boomed through and just to respond, you kicked your legs in town with a cry erupting from your lips against your pillow.

The two rushed to your bed and sat on the edge, both opposite to each other as Natasha held a hand to your back and rubbed it softly.

Still in your uniform, your skirt rode up as you kicked your legs, screaming and groaning in frustration. Both your father and mother caught sight of the white undies you sported and Natasha couldn’t help but even blush at the sight.

“Is it school, bunny?”

You nodded in tow and the two Russians looked at each other with sorrow, the guilt present on their faces just as Bucky sighed.

“I have so many things to do,” you sat up properly this time and was met by your parent’s concerned faces. “Papers, reports, extracurricular. It’s too much...”

They frowned at your concern, worried for your health, both physically and mentally. Natasha shook her head at your words and inched towards you onto the bed. With a hand tilting your head up, she leaned close and closed the gap between the two of you.

“Natalia—” Bucky was shushed with a finger from his wife and as much as he adored the image in front of him, he zipped his mouth closed.

Your eyes went wide in surprise at the touch and taste of your mother’s tongue. While her kiss was soft and gentle, it was firm and driven as her hand drew your head closer.

She only pulled for a moment to breathe, a grin present on her face when she turned to her husband.

“Well? Don’t just stand there with your dick hard. Help me out.”

Jealousy, Jealousy

Summary: Y/N gets a little bit jealous that Natasha doesn't see the way that she feels about her- so why not see if she can make her a little jealous with her best friend. Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader Theme: Smut Word Count: 3.6k Warning(s): 18+ | Smut | Fingering | Oral | Cursing | Mommy Kink Author's Note: I uh- don't have much to say about this. But who doesn't love a jealous/possessive girlfriend. (Healthy, of course.)

There was never a point in time that you could recall not knowing that Natasha Romanoff was the only woman you wanted to call yours.

Her smile was one of the first things you had always noticed about her. Teeth flashing with each eager grin, a faint indentation of dimples and accented cheekbones, as she would slip past a laugh or a shoulder nudge with the expression. She was never generally one to get mad towards you, in fact, you can’t generally recall a time when she ever raised her voice towards you.

Certainly, she never held back from anyone else on the team, especially Rogers or Stark when they chewed at her nerves. You could remember a point in time where Steve had gotten on your case about failing to subdue an enemy quickly enough, and the redhead was quick to act in your stead. You’d never seen the super soldier sulk back further than when Romanoff was in his personal space. She was never afraid to break past his comfort-zone as she snapped back at him in defense for you. Most of the time you couldn’t hide the incredulous smile at watching Rogers tuck his tail while Natasha would gather herself and drag you away from the situation.

Your eyes darted to the familiar pull of her laugh echoing across the room, leaning against the bartop as Bruce Banner chuckled along with her. She stood slightly bent forward, propping herself up against her forearms as you watched her eyes glint with amusement. A swell of jealousy pooled in the pit of your stomach when you noticed Banner’s eyes default to the subtle view of her breasts that were exposed under the low-cut V of her t-shirt. Of course, you couldn’t generally blame him, she was beautiful. It wasn’t just the infatuation of her body to you though, which maybe was far more dangerous.

“You’re practically as green as him,” Wanda’s voice chimed as she slumped beside you on the couch against the opposite arm, throwing her legs up to lay across your lap.

The only response you offered her at first was a dramatic roll of your eyes, scoffing at the words before turning away from the sight of Banner’s hopeless flirting. She wasn’t necessarily wrong, you were green with envy, and the ability of telepathy that Wanda held made it pointless to fire back any denial. Instead, you only casted your glance down, observing your best friend’s legs that were strewn across your lap. “You can be such a brat.”

A laugh bubbled out of Wanda’s chest as she shot you an uneasy grin, leaning up slightly. Her back bent forward as you felt your breath hitch at close proximity she’d soon found beside you. The warmth of her breath ghosted across your ear, swearing for a moment you could nearly feel her lips against the cartilage. There was no doubt about it in your mind that Wanda Maximoff was beautiful, but you were so invested in your feelings for Natasha you didn’t see her as much more than your best friend.

“We could…” a faint pause caused you to match Wanda’s gaze out of the corner of your eye, “make her jealous?”

The sensation of Wanda’s fingertips tracing up your forearm ignited a fire in your stomach you didn’t know could be lit by the touch. An array of goosebumps flourished across your skin as your head involuntarily lolled to the side to listen closer to the brunette’s words, and to faintly admire the way her breath washed across your skin. Even your best friend couldn’t ignore the flutter of butterflies in her abdomen at the way you gave into her. You were so infected by any touch right now, your body was falling into any little skin to skin contact. She continued the motion, and you couldn’t help yourself but to test a glance towards Natasha.

“Don’t,” Wanda scolded harshly, nearly making you wince at the roughness of the witch’s thumb and finger twisting your chin to look back towards her, “we’ve barely even started.” She wasn’t bluffing, her chin dipped to let her lips brush upwards along your neck, drawing a scratchy moan from the back of your throat. The sound took you both by surprise, and you felt her nails slightly press into the faint muscle of your bicep. A faint string brewed in the spot, but it was jaded by the way Wanda took the skin at your pulse between her teeth. You could feel the smirk pulling on her lips against your skin, she was enjoying this. And you felt yourself questioning whether it was because of the reaction you were giving her, or if Natasha had taken notice and begun to brew.

You wanted to look in her direction, to see if the woman you longed for was turning just as green, but Wanda had you amply distracted. She was sucking softly on the tissue, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to draw out a moan beneath your breath once again. A wave of embarrassment rocked through you, hoping no one else heard the slip- except maybe Natasha.

‘She’s watching,’ the brunette’s words drifted through your mind, and you scowled at the fact she was communicating telepathically. You hated it when she did it, but right now, it was probably less obvious than outright saying it to you in the chance the assassin saw or heard it. The impatience in you briefly won out, and as Wanda was busy working her lips along your neck, legs still across your lap, you chanced a glance towards the redhead.

Your best friend was right, Natasha’s jaw was locked in place, paying no heed further to whatever Bruce was spewing as emerald irises were even more darkened in the dim lighting of the event hall. You couldn’t help the wash of enjoyment that grew when you watched her meet your gaze. With an unexpected grin, taunting the older women, you parted your lips to draw out an exaggerated groan of pleasure as you tipped your head back, eyes closing to let Wanda continue with you.

The feeling of her lips against you was undoubtedly making you squirm slightly, after all, who wouldn’t appreciate a beautiful woman having her way with you if even for a taunt? If you weren’t so distracted, you wouldn’t have mistaken the sharp grasp around your other forearm to be Maximoff’s, but the velocity in which you were pulled out from underneath the witch’s legs made you gasp as you stood face to face with Natasha. Her eyes were even more unforgiving up close, flicking back and forth between you and Wanda, who still wore a shit-eatting grin.

“Nat, is there something I-”

“What are you doing, Y/N?” She snapped firmly, keeping her fingers still wound snug around your arm as she stood intoxicatingly close to you. You could smell the faint floral aroma of her perfume that wafted past your nose, trying to keep your focus matched to hers despite the fact her body was nearly flush to you. Wanda had already left you in a state of slight desperation, and now that you were under Natasha Romanoff’s grip you could physically feel the pooling arousal between your thighs. You didn’t even notice the dismissive glance that the redhead sent towards your best friend that had her chuckling and removing herself from the situation.

A toothy smirk sprawled across your lips, trying her patience as you spoke, “You were busy with Bruce.”

The realization dawned on her almost immediately, her brows pulling together as she cocked her head, “You were jealous, weren’t you, sweetheart?”

You nearly felt your demeanor crumble at the way she now had the upper ground over you, throwing in the pet name only solidified that. You could just deny it, shake your head and roll your eyes at the accusation, but you knew she wasn’t stupid enough to believe that. Especially given the fact you’d whimpered at the way her grip didn’t relent around your arm when you tried to pull back.

“Don’t worry,” she mused, stepping towards you to a point where you had to bite back another sound of imprudence at the feeling of breasts pressing to your own, “I’ll show you how much of yours I am.” The grin on her lips never faltered as you sent her a bewildered glance, the look enticing a lowly chuckle from her, “I think you’ve been pining after me long enough, Y/N.”

This time it was your turn to pinch your brows together at the words. She’d known this entire time the evolving crush you’d had for her like a young child, and she’d toyed with that knowledge. You wanted to dispute that, or at least criticize her for taunting you this long when she knew damn well how you felt. Instead, you yelped at the way she tugged you along her path, dragging you back towards the elevator. You couldn’t deny yourself the luxury of casting Banner a short glance, looking like a wounded puppy which almost made you feel guilty.

“Where- where are we going?” You tried, struggling to keep up briefly behind her long and quick strides. A breath left your lungs as you finally drew in air once she stopped with you at the entrance to the elevator, impatiently tapping the button before looking over her shoulder at you.

“I told you, I’m going to prove how much of me is yours,” this time her tone was serious, unwavering, and her lips were pressed into a straight line. You might’ve fallen into a trance under her gaze if it hadn’t been for the sound of the elevator chiming to announce it’s arrival. There was no moment of hesitation as the older woman tugged you into the elevator, not even giving you time to glance back to the befuddled expressions on the rest of the team before the doors slid shut.

“But, where are we-”

Natasha’s body stepped around you quickly, cutting you off as her hand immediately pressed the emergency stop on the panel. A look of confusion met her as she stepped back in front of you, again leaving you no chance of a rebuttal before her hands were cupping your jaw and her lips were slamming against yours with velocity. Your balance wavered slightly, but the hold she had on your jaw practically kept you upright as you whined into the kiss. A faint taste of blood drifted over your tongue, but instead of inciting pain, it only made the drive of pleasure in you increase.

With your face firmly in her grasp, she began to step backwards, leading you along with her. Your feet struggled briefly, momentarily forgetting how to walk adequately before you were able to move along with her. You briefly took control, ushering her further back even when she tried to stop in the middle, not stopping until her back crashed against the back wall of the elevator. A gasp leapt from her lungs which you took advantage of eagerly by thrusting your tongue between her lips. The action rewarded you with a moan from the assassin that fell muffled into your mouth as your tongue swiped across hers. You wanted to repeat the sentiment when her taste rolled across your tastebuds, but you restrained yourself.

Your hand snaked down between you both, reaching vicariously for the bottom hem of her t-shirt. A laugh reverberated in Natasha’s chest, falling into your lips as she dropped her hands from your jaw to help you. She pulled the shirt off quickly, discarding the clothing item carelessly into the corner, hungrily cupping your face between her palms once again. The satisfaction of you in her grasp didn’t last though, pulling back to break the kiss as your lips ghosted down the side of her neck. A slow breath receded between Natasha’s lips, somewhere between a moan and a sigh, as you continued to trail your lips lower down and over her collarbones towards her breasts.

“Y/N-” the purr of your name falling across her tongue, and the feeling of her stare dropping down to watch you, only made your stomach churn in impatience. Your fingers worked to pull down the thin lace of her bra, silently appreciating the fact it was so easy to pull to the side. Her fingers forfeited to tangle back in your y/h/c strands as you took her nipple between your lips, earning a low groan of satisfaction from the older woman. You sucked back sporadically, gingerly using your teeth to scrape along the soft tissue and grinning at the involuntary jerk of Natasha pushing her chest closer against your mouth.

“Fuck…” the curse rolled off of her tongue as she pressed her head back against the wall of the elevator. Your tongue wrapped around the hardened bud, dropping your hand to now push under the waistband of her slacks. There was something particularly alluring about Natasha being in business casual wear, and right now, you were ever so appreciative of it. Your fingers dauntingly moved further down, clenching your jaw sharply at the realization that she wasn’t wearing any panties. A wicked grin crept across Natasha’s lips at knowing of the discovery you’d made, but as she moved to speak, your fingers ghosted along her slit, a moan ripping free from her throat at the touch.

Your fingers continued along her, gliding with ease at the thick coating of her slick. Any suspicions you had of Natasha being attracted to you in this moment were gone, feeling her practically dripping without even having touched her in the way she truly desired. Your lips abandoned her breast briefly, brushing your lips against the warmth of tanned skin as you spoke, “God- you’re soaked, mommy.”

The name caught you both abruptly off guard, your cheeks flushing in warmth as a shade of red sprawled across them. Natasha’s focus snapped down to scan over you, and at first you thought she was going to pull back, but when you felt her hips roll down to grind against your palm, any worry was sated. Her teeth hooked over her bottom lip, pupils nearly blown out in lust as a smug grin grew on her face. “Mommy, hm?”

You nodded shallowly, completely enthralled by the older woman who was helplessly grinding along your palm for any helpful friction. A whimper sounded in your chest when her hand clamped around your wrist, removing it from her pants and gently pushing it back in your direction. Your eyes watched her cautiously, thinking maybe she’d had enough, but as her fingers worked at the zipper on her slacks, you only felt the heat between your legs grow.

“You’re going to make mommy come then... okay sweetheart?” Her tone was coarse, deeper than it usually came across as she shimmied out of the slacks, letting them fall around her ankles before kicking them back to where her discarded shirt sat in the corner. Seeing her nearly nude in front of you, minus her bra, was sending you into a spiral. It was one thing to drool over Natasha Romanoff in her Black Widow garb, but seeing her completely exposed in front of you was a whole different ball game.

“Yes...” you quipped, nodding almost too enthusiastically as she returned her grip to sink through your hair with an approving chuckle. A slight pull against your hair brought you to your knees, and back towards her hot centre, feeling the heat practically radiating against your lips. You involuntarily whined as you felt her hook one of her legs over your shoulder, pressing her heel to the small of your back to keep you locked in place.

Whatever hesitancy you had left was void now, leaning in to let your lips traverse upwards along the inside of her thighs. As you continued upwards, you slowed the kisses at the crook of her thigh, just shy of where she wanted you most. Occasionally as you kiss along the spot, your nose would brush along her slit, causing her to pull you closer towards her, growling in a soft warning, “Stop teasing, детка [baby].”

You cast a final glance upwards, meeting Natasha’s glare that’s locked to you, and although there was a dominance in it, there was a softness behind her eyes as well. That was enough an answer for you to continue. Without notice, you rolled the flat of your tongue upwards, pressing deeply through her folds. You couldn’t stifle the groan at the mixture of a salty and sweet taste that filled your mouth from her slick. Natasha’s heel dug faintly into your back as her head fell back again, a moan rising from her chest that bounced off the metallic walls.

The grip she held in your hair tightened, anchoring you deeper against her cunt as she ground down onto your tongue. Her moans continued to decorate the elevator space, trying your best to find your breath against her. One of your arms lifted, looping around the thigh she had lifted over your shoulder, keeping her in place, while the other used the thumb of your freehand to press a circle against her clit.

Natasha’s strength faltered, but thankful to you, the support of her being draped over your shoulder kept her in place. The feeling of her nails scratching against your scalp made you groan against her, sending a vibration through her that made another gasp of pleasure break. Your tongue pressed down further, finding her entrance and slipping in without any resistance. Her walls promptly clamped around you, trying desperately to pull your tongue deeper. She was barely ushering sounds at this point, most falling trapped in her throat between the breaths she was trying to draw in. Your eyes lingered upwards to watch her, her mouth agape to silent sounds of pleasure as her head stayed tipped back against the wall. In all your time with the team, months and months of flirting and sly retorts, you never thought you’d get to this point with Natasha Romanoff. But here she was, riding your tongue, and falling apart under your touch in the confines of a stilled elevator.

“Come on, pretty girl, more,” there was still a slight hostility of a warning behind the plea, but regardless you weren’t going to test your limits. You were far too thankful for the fact that you’d gotten to taste her at this point, that you’d do anything she wanted you to do. The hand that you had previously working at her clit dropped down, simultaneously withdrawing your tongue from her core. An unexpected groan from the emptiness played from Natasha, teasing two of your fingers along her entrance before thrusting fully into the cling of her walls, bottoming out at your knuckles.

A scream of pleasure burst from the older woman, her back faintly arching off the wall to newly adjust around your digits. You withdrew slowly, helping dwindle the sting before thrusting sharply back into her and being rewarded with a gasp as her fingers tangled into your hair.

“Right... there,” she moaned between her lips, barely giving herself a chance to breathe before more followed as you began to pump gradually in and out of her soaked cunt. “Don’t..fucking...stop,” she slurred out between broken pants and sloppy moans. The sound of fucking you with her fingers sent you into a frenzy, wanting more and more as you began to already feel her walls flutter around you.

The coil in her stomach had begun to tighten, the thigh rested on your shoulder noticeably trembling as she grew closer to the edge. Your fingers continued to vigorously thrust into her, curling deeply to strike her g-spot with intention each time. The appeal of her chasing her orgasm made you want to keep her like this, but at the same time all you wanted to do was please the redhead. You leaned back in, running the tip of your tongue in quick circles along her bundle of nerves. That was all it took to send Natasha spiraling over the edge of climax.

Her thighs immediately tightened around your head, her leg wrapped around you following suit to keep your mouth in place against her. Your fingers continued to draw in and out of, ignoring the continuous clench of her walls fluttering as she came undone around them. A smile undeniably danced across your lips, your eyes watching her up through your brows. Her orgasm spilled along your knuckles, running partially down your wrist as she writhed against you. You never thought anyone could ever look so beautiful through an orgasm, cliché or not, but Natasha had you swooning entirely as she finally began to come down from the high.

“Sh-shit…” she breathed out in a light laugh, her chin finally dipping back down to match your gaze. Her leg fell off of your shoulder, and you took the time to remove your fingers from her cunt, bringing them to your lips to clean her orgasm off of you. Your own breathing was sporadic, caught by surprise when Natasha pulled you back up by your chin to clash her lips against yours. A gentle whine emitted against her lips, giving her a chance to slip her tongue between your lips and hum at the essence of her own taste in your mouth. You both stayed like that for a few minutes, your hands trailing random shapes on her abdomen as her hands cupped your jaw in their grasp, before you both drew back.

“See, sweetheart, no need to be jealous,” Natasha mocked gently, holding your stare as her thumb swept across the corner of your jaw, “leave the turning green to Bruce.” You couldn’t contain the faint chuckle that escaped at hearing her words, a smile spreading across your lips before you found them pressed back against her own.

Sometimes- jealousy can pay off.

These Hands of Yours Pt. 2

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, talks of therapy and allat, bruises, anxiety and whatnot

Summary: Can you forgive Natasha after she attacks you in her sleep?

A/N: again, a very rushed ending bc I literally never know how to end anything. even essays, corny ass ending.

Part 1

The sun shining through your window was what woke you up the next morning. When you opened your eyes you were met with Natasha’s green eyes that were a little puffy from last night. Her hand was still tightly intertwined with yours, her thumb rubbing you softly.

“Hi.” She whispered out quietly. You could finally see her features perfectly with the sunlight now covering the whole room instead of the moonlight. You watched as her gaze traveled down to your neck, and the events of last night flooded through your brain. You tensed up, and Natasha noticed.

“Good morning.” You replied in the same tone. You looked at everything but her, knowing that you would break down if you continued to look at her. Tears were unwilling pooling in your eyes, and you felt Natasha squeeze your hand.

“Baby,” she said in a pleading voice. “It’s okay. You can let it out now, Y/n.” You closed your eyes and shook your head, unable to speak any words due to the lump forming in your throat. “Can you look at me, please?”

A sob escaped from your lips at her comforting tone. Her voice soft and reassuring which is exactly what you needed to finally let go.

“I was s- so scared, Nat.” She pulled you into her chest, holding you closely as you cried and vented. “I- I thought t-that you were upset with me about earlier,” She closed her eyes as more tears formed in them, guilt flooding through her body.

“A-and then when I realized you weren’t yourself I was even m-more scared. You weren’t responding and I tried so hard to- I didn’t know what to do.” With all of the talking and crying you were gasping for air at this point, and Natasha sat the both of you up.

“I- couldn’t… I didn’t, Nat.” You were still crying and hyperventilating. She held your face in her hands, forcing you to look at her.

“Y/n. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, detka, but I need you to try and breathe, okay?” Natasha grabbed your hands and placed them on her chest, hers going back to hold your head in place. “Follow my breathing, detka. You can do it.”

You copied Natasha. Breathing in when she did, and out. It took a few minutes for you to finally calm down enough, being reduced to whimpers and sniffles. You were still breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath when you spoke up again.

“I didn’t know what to do, well I couldn’t do anything.” Your eyes drifted down to the bed sheets. “One of your hands was holding both of mine down until I slipped one out.” Natasha closed her eyes and brought you closer to her, kissing your forehead before resting it against hers.

“I am so, so sorry I put you through that, detka. I’m so sorry.” Tears were streaming down your face as you nodded at her. “I’ll do everything I can to make it up to you, okay?”

You shook your head and opened your mouth to tell Natasha that she didn’t need to do that, but she cut you off before you could speak.

“It wasn’t up for debate, Y/n.” You looked at her and only saw love mixed with guilt in her eyes, her hands hovering over you as if she was scared to break you. The ever so caring Natasha Romanoff here in front of you would never intentionally hurt you, and you knew that.

“I uh… I’m still a bit shaken up.” You mumbled out.

“Talk to me.” She demanded gently. By now you were both sitting face to face with your legs crossed on the bed. Her hands were on your knees while you played with yours in your lap.

“Well,” you gestured to your neck and shook your head, Natasha nodded in understanding. She knew when to push you to talk, and when to wait patiently for you to open up. For now she would do the latter.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments before your stomach grumbled. You groaned out of embarrassment and put your face in your hands. Natasha laughed lightly.

“I’ll go make breakfast. Is that okay?.” Natasha said while patting your legs. You nodded at her and smiled softly. She kissed your forehead and she hovered over your lips before pulling away. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” You answered her by pulling her back towards you, your lips connecting with hers in a soft kiss. She smiled when the kiss ended.

“I’ll be back. I love you.”

“Love you too.” You watched as she walked out of the bedroom, and the tension released from your body. You went to the bathroom to clean yourself up and your chest tightened at the sight of your neck. A dark red and purple mark where Natasha’s hand pressed against you was present, and you knew there was no way you could hide it from anyone.

You sighed and got ready for the day.

In the kitchen, Natasha was leaning on the counter with her head in her hands. She was beating herself up for allowing the stress to consume her to the point where she hurt you. In more ways than one. She thought back to how she snapped at you, and let you fall asleep alone. Natasha thought back to how scared and small you looked when you backed away from her after she had choked you. Tears were streaming down her face as she tried to suppress her sobs.

“Nat?” She straightened up her posture at the sound of your voice and busied herself with grabbing food out of the fridge. She turned around when she heard your footsteps get louder, and she melted at the sight of you in her hoodie and sweats. They were both a bit big on you, but neither of you minded.

“Yes, detka?” She asked as she set the food on the counter. She started to get bowls and pans out as you sat down on a stool at the counter.

“You need any help with anything? I can make the eggs while you do the pancakes?” You asked hopefully, but hesitantly. Your anxiety was telling you that you didn’t want to upset her again. You watched as she sighed and your heart dropped. Her demeanor the same as last night when she snapped at you while working.

“Are you sure you’re okay to be around me?” All of your worries washed away after hearing her small voice. You realized she wasn’t mad at you, but at herself. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, and clenched your fist to stop your hands from shaking.

“I- Yes. Natasha I’m okay to be around you.” She just shook her head.

“I can read you like a book you know?” She crossed her arms and looked at you softly. “I can see how on edge you are right now, and I don’t want you to feel like that around me.” You stayed silent. “Y/n, if you need space then I think you should take it.”

You fiddled with your hands and stared at your lap. You knew she was right. The whole situation was making your anxiety go crazy, and you didn’t want to feel like that around her either. Of course, deep down you know that she would never intentionally harm you, but your mind wasn’t letting it go so easily.

“I think…” You started and kept your gaze low. “I think you’re right, but I don’t want to break up.” You could see her move closer in the corner of your eye, and you looked up at her when she was in front of you.

“We’re not breaking up, baby.” She whispered out. Your eyes locked with hers as she cupped your cheeks with her cold hands. You leaned into her touch, the heat from your cheeks sending a wave of comfort through Natasha. “I just want you to be able to sleep with out having to worry about me. Maybe I can go stay at the compound for a bit.”

Tears were building in your eyes now, and she wiped them away. “What about the spare bedroom here?” You asked meekly.

“If that’s what you’re comfortable with.” She smiled when you nodded, and you found yourself doing the same. She leaned down and pressed her lips against yours softly but passionately. She pulled away and your eyes fluttered open when she cleared her throat. “I really am sorry about yesterday.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Natty, you were having a nightmare.” You frowned at her.

“No, not about that. Well, yes about that but no. I’m sorry for snapping at you. This mission is just bringing up a lot for me, and you were right I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” You were still sitting on the stool looking up at her, and you could tell she was about to cry again so you wrapped your arms around her and nuzzled your head into her stomach.

“I forgive you, just please talk to me instead next time. Or…” You trailed off not knowing how she was going to react with your next words.

“Or what?” She asked, her hands running through your hair and keeping your head on her.

“Or you could try therapy?” You felt her hands stop their actions. “I know you said you’ve went before, but if the job is pushing you to the point where you’re acting out in your sleep then maybe it’s time to go back.” She sighed and continued to flow her hands through your hair.

“You’re right. I’ll call Pepper to see if she knows any good ones, okay?” She felt you smile and nod against her stomach, your arms squeezing her a little tighter. “Now let’s get some food into your stomach before you go all Hangry Hulk on me.” You gasped and playfully shoved her away.

“You swore you would stop calling me Hangry Hulk!” You glared at the smirk on her face and crossed your arms. “Not funny.”

“That cute little angry face of yours is just proving my point, detka.” Your face burned and she laughed as she started on the food.

After Natasha called Pepper she told you that her therapy sessions with a Dr. Raynor starts next week. She told you that Dr. Raynor has helped Bucky and still does, so Pepper is sure that she can help Natasha as well. You told her how proud of her you were for trying, and that you were still there if she needed you to be.

The next three weeks were spent with Natasha sleeping in the guest room. She’s been meeting Dr. Raynor twice a week, and Natasha could physically feel the weight leaving her shoulders after ever session.

The fourth week you finally caved and snuck into the guest room when Natasha was asleep. You woke her up and asked her to hold you, and she did so without a second thought. Your mind and heart were finally on the same page about Natasha, your anxieties no longer consuming your every thought when you were around her.

The trust you had for Natasha was never gone, but it only wavered after that night. Now though, after weeks of reassuring, comforting, and chasing away each other’s fears, the two of you were better than ever.

And you still trusted her more than anything.

I need more mediocre gfs please!! Maybe like Reader getting hurt in an attack like I’m curious how she would act

sure but i didnt rly do that bc nothing serious ever happens in the mediocre gfs verse<3 welcome to the circus babies<3

Your relationship isn't public in the sense that neither of you thinks it's particularly wise to advertise to Nat's long, long list of enemies that she fostered any sort of positive emotion towards any specific member of the general public. It isn't particularly wise to advertise that Nat experiences any emotions, really, since unpredictability is the name of the game. But it's okay if people know she, perhaps, might like her coworkers because her coworkers could kill someone accidentally by, like, breathing too hard or something. You, on the other hand, are entirely normal. Maybe not well-adjusted, mentally at least, but you're not an alien with super strength, nor are you a mutated superhero borne from unethical scientific experimentation. Just normal human you.

Her friends and family know, obviously, since Nat is as unrepentant and shameless as they come. She likes to flex the fact that she's not emotionally stunted enough to not be able to bag a girl, basically. You're glad, at least, that you don't have to stop yourself from throwing yourself at Nat during house parties.

Nat also likes to lounge on an armchair with you perched on her lap, looking like the cat that got the cream; she said, one time, that it makes her feel like she has a huge cock. You had rolled your eyes at that, arms looped around her neck, and assured her that her cock was, indeed, quite large. She had smirked and kissed your neck and said in that insufferable tone: "I know." And Clint, who had been sitting on a nearby couch, had made a noise of revulsion and disappeared into the kitchen so he didn't have to hear Nat and you being so annoying. The two of you were a joy, to say the least, at Avengers dinner parties.

So, it comes as a surprise to both you and Nat--and your superhero friends when they hear about it afterwards--when you're shoved into a crummy alley by gunpoint because no one is supposed to know about your relationship to her outside of your inner circles. It's also a surprise because, you know, there's a gun pointed at you by a really menacing looking dude.

You're supposed to be safe. Everyone made sure to keep your relationship under wraps. How did they find you?

He's shouting at you, but you're too panicked, fumbling with your bag and backing into the wall, to really process what he's saying. Nat, who had been on a call with you, is also yelling at you in alarm through the AirPods Pro she had gotten you as a gift. You don't know what the fuck is happening. Maybe you shouldn't walk around the city with the noise-cancelling function on.

Suddenly, she goes quiet, and you glance at your phone, seeing the call has been dropped, and so too, then, does your stomach. A heavy feeling of dread sinks into you, and you find yourself shaking.

The barrel of the gun waves closer to your face, and you let out an undignified squeak, and then the man is wrenching your phone away with a curse when he realizes you had been on a call. Now, you are paying lots of attention to the man with the gun.

He is a mugger. You are being mugged.

"Oh, thank god," you let out in a rush, basically hurling your AirPods case at him. "Here. I-I'll get my wallet, too. It's- It's in my bag."

He is taken aback by your change in attitude, clutching the case like his life depends on it. "What- Hey, lady. What the fuck?"

You nod rapidly. "Yeah. Yeah, don't worry about me. Well, you can. I mean, don't shoot me. I have to get my wallet, okay?"

"...Okay?" The gun lowers. Dark eyes blink at you through his ski mask in utter bewilderment. "I mean-" He draws the gun back up with a scowl. "Just give me the bag."

You frown now, too. You had bought Nat a sandwich. It's in there. "But..."

"Give me the fucking bag!"

"Right! Yeah! Jesus, okay," you yell out, shoving the bag towards him and flinching away when the gun once again comes too close to comfort. "I just want you to know that my girlfriend's going to be so mad at you."

He ignores you. Why would he reply, after all? He's a mugger. You're his victim blathering on about your girlfriend. Your totally regular girlfriend.

Your girlfriend, whom you have yet to spot swinging off the roof and onto the fire escape above. Until, that is, her boots hit it with a loud clang, and both of you jerk up to look.

Then, it's over for him because Nat comes down swinging with a furious look on her face, utterly silent aside from her grunts when she lands on him and throws him upside down into the dumpster. A gunshot rings out, hitting the wall far enough away from you that you don't immediately piss yourself, but it's still a gunshot, so you still jump away with a screech.

You fall into the wall, dropping your bag, and scramble on your ass towards the main street. By the time you've gotten your bearings, Nat's straddled the mugger, gun kicked far into the alley and is midway through her third punch into the guy's face.

"Nat," you gasp out, pulse racing, throbbing, really, in your temple, "Nat!"

Your cries fall on deaf ears. She's still giving this guy hell, questioning him in a tone so cold you're glad you never have to face her for real. She seems to be under the impression that he's a neo-Nazi terrorist or something.

Quickly, you crawl over, scuffing your knees on the sidewalk, and place a hand on her back. She stills, still glowering down at the crumpled mugger beneath her. But then you put your other hand on her back, and you slide them onto her shoulders, and you cling on with a shuddering sigh.

She feels safe. She feels warm and solid and real. It hadn't felt real these past few minutes, you realize belatedly, and you cling on tighter. Suddenly, there are tears in your eyes. You feel a bit stupid for them since this is something that happens every day in the city, and Nat's faced worse, and here you are, about to sob your eyes out.

In relief, though. Relief. Sweet relief in the arms of your equally shaken up girlfriend.

She plants a hand on the guy's head, forcing his nose into the cement, and slips her free arm around your hiccupping shoulders.

"It's okay," she murmurs into your hair, a strangled note to her voice. "I'm here. It's okay."

"He-He was just mugging me," you manage, stilted, and so very much in love with Nat. Acutely aware of your love for her when you feel her relax and then stiffen up and then relax again once she's registered what you said. You keep blubbering on: "You crossed four blocks in as many minutes because I was getting mugged."

"Well." She sniffs, pressing him harder into the ground and disregarding his pained moan. "Yes."

"I love you," you say around a ragged breath. Your tears are subsiding.

Nat stiffly pats your back and glances down at him. "Yes."

"You should probably call off whatever national security agency you contacted," you say after a moment.

Both of you pay the mugger's squawk no mind. Nat just nods and says, again, "Yes." She releases you to pull her phone out of her pocket, face entirely unreadable, as she does as told. "You should also apologize to Carol."

"Me?" You make a face. Shuffle closer on your knees. "Why?"

"She, uh," Nat starts, then stops with a grimace. Rolls her eyes. "There's a war happening. Like, a few galaxies away."

"Galaxies," you repeat.

"Yeah. She's probably halfway here already."

"Galaxies."

"Yeah, baby," she says into her phone as she taps away. "She says that she's glad that you're all right, but you owe her a round of drinks."

You yank her arms closer to you--or, rather, she lets you pull her phone to your face. "She says you owe her drinks."

"We owe her drinks; that's what I said," Nat says. Finally, you see the wobble of her lips. Up and down, and up again. "You... You're okay?"

You smile softly, wiping the dampness from your cheeks. "Yeah. What about you, honey?"

Nat just nods. Then, she looks down at the guy under her and gets up with an out of place grace. He instantly tries to get up and run, but Nat just steps on his back, and he goes down again.

You pry your AirPods case out of his grip and get to your feet to pick up your bag. You put your stuff back in and shuffle back to Nat, who's palming her forehead and staring at the sky.

You curl your fingers around her tense forearm, rubbing a thumb into her skin until she turns to look at you.

"I love you," you repeat.

Nat lets her lips slant upward, and she cups your cheek. "Me too. About you."

You lean into her, nosing at her shoulder with a sigh. "How did you even get here?"

Nat lets out a breathy laugh. "Breaking and entering, and parkour on top of rooftops."

"Thank you," you say after a beat.

She shakes her head, hand pressing harder into your face. "Don't thank me."

"This is, like, cute and romantic, but I think you broke my ribs and my nose," says the mugger who has since dragged himself up to sprawl against the dumpster.

"Shut up," Nat snaps. "You should be glad I didn't break more."

He huffs and crosses his arms.

You wrap your arms around Nat's waist, smiling widely into her jacket. Nat can tell, of course, because she always knows. She tangles her hands in your hair, cradling you close to her chest, as fond of you as you are of her.

"Oh," you remember suddenly, "I got you a sandwich."

The cops find the three of you like this: Nat munching on a club sandwich with you draped over her side and the mugger looking awfully put out opposite you guys.

That night, and in the days following, Nat refuses to let you leave her sight. Very awkward to wash your hands in front of the bathroom line that had all seen a stoic Nat barge her way into your stall. You wouldn't change a single thing about it.

Gentleness

Soft!Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Fluff, Natasha gets a migraine and tries to hide it. Based on a lovely request.

Natasha was definitely sick. You noticed in the morning, but you were wise enough now not to point it out.

When she could barely keep her eyes open during lunch, Natasha finally admitted that she had a headache. 

You rubbed small circles on Natasha’s back, filled with quiet concern as her shoulders hunched forward with discomfort. 

You didn’t correct her, but you knew it wasn’t just a headache. 

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hiiii <3 i think i’m obsessed w your mediocre gf nat fics js, i’ve re read them all many times, they’re so great- anyway ily good job :)

also wondering would mediocre gf nat ever ever get soft w her gf? cause whenever she is i imagine her gf being like ‘are you feeling okay?’ lmao

hey thank u! ilyt i think im going to be making a mediocre gfs masterlist soon its getting huge

note: rome ants<3

The car is silent as Nat drives. Your hand hangs out the window, fingers wiggling in the cold air. The streetlights whizz by, appearing as streaks when you lean your head against the door and unfocus your eyes. The radio is turned low, and a man reports on a traffic jam in a different intersection, voice coming out low and fuzzy with static.

Nat makes an exit with fewer streetlights. The road is rough and winds down a hill.

Towards the ocean.

The car bumps over the gravel into a parking spot. You look over, tilting your head. Nat sits, staring out at the dark water, hands gripped on the wheel. You move your hand towards Nat’s leg, but she jolts into movement all of a sudden, unbuckling her seatbelt and near leaping out of the car. You scramble to follow.

Sand plumes behind her in her haste to the shoreline. You jog over her boot prints until you’re close enough to grab her elbow. Nat slows marginally—the only acknowledgement of your presence she spares on you.

She comes to an abrupt halt right before the sand is wet. She looks out towards the horizon. Or where you think the horizon is; it’s too dark to differentiate sky from sea.

“Nat?” You tug on her arm. Hold it close to your chest.

“I…” Nat blinks. Her lips twitch into a fragile smile, and she cranes her head to look over at you.

You hunch closer, wind whistling through your bodies. Her hair tickles your face. “What is it?”

“I missed you,” she admits slowly. Like she’s surprised herself with emotion. She does that sometimes.

You furrow your eyebrows, reaching a hand over to cup her cheek. “Me too. Next time you leave for a month, maybe don’t tell me over text.”

Nat’s smile widens, eyes trained on your face as if committing every detail of it to memory. She nods and whispers: “Okay.”

“And bring me a souvenir,” you go on, bumping your forehead into hers.

“Oh,” Nat says. “I did.”

“What did you get me?”

“Dental dams.”

The hand on her face shoves her away. You huff. “You’re so annoying.”

Nat laughs, hand catching your wrist easily, and she pulls you back into her body. Her arms circle your waist, and you give in, dumping your head onto her shoulder. Soaking in the warmth of her body. The warmth of her presence. Of her joy.

“Tell me it’s the flavoured kind, at least,” you mumble into her leather jacket.

“Only the best for you, baby,” she murmurs into the side of your head, leaving, along with it, a gentle kiss. “I… I, um, love you, you know?”

Your arms constrict around her waist, fists clenching around her jacket. Reminding her, physically, that you’re hers. “I know.”

“I wouldn’t leave you. Nothing could make me leave you willingly,” she continues in that same brittle voice. But it gets stronger as she goes, more vehement. “I don’t want to go sometimes. I just want to lie in bed with you. Or be lazy on the couch. I know- I mean, we’re not that type of couple, but I-” She sighs, breath fanning over your skin. “I just… I love you.”

You sink your hands into her hair, slipping your fingers through smooth strands of red, and you tug her head back so you can look into her eyes. See for herself your sincerity when you say: “I love you too.”

“Yeah,” Nat agrees quietly.

“But,” you say as you frown a little, “are you feeling okay?”

Nat goes to say something, but you smack her forehead with the back of your hand.

“You feel okay. What’s wrong with you?”

Now, she scowls and bats your arm away. “Fuck you.”

You grin, pushing your body weight further onto her. She grunts, looking very much inconvenienced by you. “Okay, but seriously, are you okay?”

“Yes,” she hisses. “I’m fucking normal.”

“No, I mean, did something happen during your mission?” You smooth your hands over the back of her neck, scratching lightly at her nape. “I worry, obviously. You peace out for a month with a bunch of guns and your superhero homies; it’s a bit scary being left behind.”

Nat’s gaze drops to the side, downward, gnawing at her lip. “Do you feel left behind?”

You dip your head down to catch her eyes again. “No.” She inhales deeply. Waits. You smile. “I know you love me even if you only say it to me like twice a year—my birthday and, like, our anniversary—because you make me feel loved. I know you try your best to keep up with me and my little life here. I know you don’t leave me behind for the hell of it. I meant it in a very literal sense. You board a plane and fly several hours to beat people up for money.”

“That’s a bit reductive,” she mutters.

“Your job description is literally classified,” you say dryly.

“Okay,” Nat says, accepting your heartfelt speech with a heaving sigh. “I was in a submarine.”

When Nat tugs your heads back together, you’re too taken aback by the lack of segue to resist.

“The way out was blocked. Water’s pouring in from a massive hole we’d blown into the side. Bodies around me. Just me.” Nat’s eyes close, and her head slants away from the water lapping up the sand. “I thought about you, then. I thought that you didn’t have a ride home from work anymore and that I couldn’t bring you junk food on the weekends. I thought that if I didn’t find a way out, no one would make you laugh like I do. Love you like me.” Her eyes squint open, a coy little smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “Y’know, fuck you like me.”

You nudge her nose with the tip of your own, chiding her for ruining the moment. Still: “Perhaps you overestimate your importance to me.”

“Oh? Do I?” she plays along, squeezing you in her arms.

But the way Nat looks right now, so close to you, is striking in a different kind of way. That’s saying something because she’s always beautiful to you, even when she’s a right mess. Her eyes, usually a light green, are dark in the night, and staunchly refuse to look away from you. Takes you in so resolutely, so tenderly. So, you sigh, pushing impossibly closer. “No,” you sigh. “You don’t.”

Nat presses her lips to yours, smiling. “Let’s go home.”

Captivity

Summary: The Avengers think they know the reader, but a mission gone wrong proves they really don’t

Pairing: So I wrote this as a platonic Avengers & Reader but then it could also be seen as Natasha x Reader, so read it however you’d prefer.

Word Count: 4700

A/N: I really like this one, it was fun to write at least. Also I have some fics pre-written already like this but I really have no time to write, so I’ll see how often I can, I don’t want to go through them too fast.

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You’d met Pepper at a coffee shop. It was a temporary job as a barista, but it was a bit of money while you were at college. Of course heads turned when the CEO of Stark Industries walked in, ordering a cake and two coffees. In fact, the only reason you served her was because your co-workers were too busy being star struck, whispering bets on whether Tony Stark himself would walk in later; you thought it unlikely.

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