Due to author opinions in asks in regards to the matter in compiling fics and those who deactivated, I have made the decision to stop compiling any deactivated author lists, I did not mean to offend or upset or disrespect, I only started doing this to help out someone who wanted to look for specfic author fics, im sorry to the fic writer community if my choices in compiling offended or upset you, I will no longer do it and most likely will take down some of the fanfic compilation lists down soon
I think I will take a step back and be inactive more
Welcome to my sideblog of reblogging fanfics I've read and maybe the occasional random fic I try to write
Check the # for asks to see if your ask has been answered
See below for characters I tend to reblog and whatever I've ever written
Characters I tend to reblog:
Marvel: Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Kate Bishop, Carol Danvers(probs more that I can't think off the top of my head)
Miscellaneous: characters played by Scarlett Johansson and Elizabeth Olsen, Vanessa shelly (fnaf)
Summary: Natasha and her girlfriend find themselves captured and at the mercy of an individual who wants nothing more than to break the Black Widow. And what better way to do that then torture the woman she loves in front of her while she is helpless?
Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, torture (beatings, injury, blood, tools used to inflict harm), happy ending
Word count: 2,278
Marvel Masterlist Natasha Masterlist
June Of Doom 2026 Masterlist
Also available on Ao3 @juneofdoom
The first thing you become aware of as you slip back into consciousness is the ringing in your ears, the pain in the side of your head and a strain in your shoulders. When you manage to open your eyes you find yourself staring up at your own hands which are chained up above you with the other end of the chain is wrapped around a large pipe, which explains why your shoulders ache.
You grunt softly as you readjust yourself, trying to get a better look at your surroundings. And that's when your gaze lands on your girlfriend Natasha, who is in the same predicament you are. Only she's still unconscious. You try to move closer to her with the intent to wake her, but the length of the chain doesn't allow much movement. You tug on them in frustration but of course they don't give, which leaves you with only one option
"Natasha" you call out in a harsh whisper, trying not to get your captor's attention. But she doesn't stir, so you try a different approach, "Tasha"
She groans and her eyes slowly open, it takes her a moment to actually come to and understand her surroundings but once she does her posture shifts and she tests the strength of the chains. Her eyes fall on you then, chained up just as she was and her gaze hardens
"Are you hurt?" she asks, her voice soft
You shake your head, "Nothing serious, bump on the head, strain in my shoulders"
She nods, "Yeah, me too. How long was I out?"
"Not sure, I was out too. Only came to about five minutes ago"
The heavy metal door to the room swings open then, letting in the bright UV-light from the hallway. You blink rapidly, trying to focus on the figure that lingers in the doorway. But right now all you can tell with certainty is that it's a man
"Ah, you're awake" he says almost gleefully, a thick Russian accent wrapped around his words, "Good"
He takes a few steps further into the room allowing you to see him now. He's tall, well built, middle aged, has a crooked nose that tells its been broken at least once, and has a scar across his left cheek. If you weren't in this situation you probably would have laughed, he looked like every modern Mafia stereotype rolled together. Ironic considering he was mafia
"They say you don't have a heart, Black Widow" he says, making your attention snap back to him, "Cold, calculated, an assassin through and through."
Her jaw clenches at his comment and she tries hard not to glance at you. He seems to notice this and smirks, taking a step closer to her. Close enough to touch her. He grabs her chin and forces her to look at you
"But see, your pretty girlfriend there tells me that's not true" he says, letting her go and stepping towards you
"Don't touch her" Natasha tells him, her voice firmer and darker than you've ever heard it, "I swear if you harm her- "
But he cuts her off with a laugh, "I am not afraid of you. I have you chained, you are defenseless"
Its your turn to laugh then, "She is never defenseless"
"We shall see" he sneers. Then your head snaps back due to a well placed punch. You can taste blood in your mouth and can tell your lip is split
"You son of a bitch!" Natasha growls, surging forward only to be stopped by the chains
He laughs and grabs a fistful of your hair, "I have hardly even begun"
You hiss at the sharp tug but don't flinch away from him, you know it's better to not show fear in these situations. You hold eye contact with him, which only makes him tighten his hold on your hair, but you don't flinch. He smirks at this and lets you go
"I am going to enjoy this" he mumbles to himself as he steps back slightly
He throws a punch that lands against your ribs, causing the breath to leave your lungs. And before you can suck in more air he punches you in your stomach, making you let out an oomph noise
"Enough!" Nat shouts, her voice wavering slightly
He sneers as he turns around and Natasha braces herself as he approaches her, "You are not in control here, I am! I say when it is enough!"
His fist connects with her cheek and she easily rolls with the punch. She'd taken hits before, worse hits too, this was nothing to her. And if it kept him from hitting you again then it was worth it. Unfortunately for her, he knows her game, and he has no intentions of playing into it.
He harshly grabs her chin a second time, "I can do whatever I want, and you can do nothing about it. Remember that"
He releases her and heads over to a small table in the corner of the room. The table hadn't seemed important earlier upon waking up, but now you and Natasha can see that laid out on it's surface are multiple instruments to cause pain. Some rope, a hammer, a lighter, an assortment of pliers, a small billy club, and a few knives. The thought of him using any of those on you makes Natashas skin crawl and she knows she has to find a way out of this situation, and fast
He takes a moment to look over the tool before he settles on the club. He walks back over and without any hesitation strikes the side of your knee with it. The force of the hit causes your knee to buckle and you let out a shout of pain. Natasha clenches her jaw at the sound and once again tugs at the chains, willing them to give as he swings the club again. This time he strikes your side, the same one he had punched earlier. There's a distinct sharp pain in your ribs and you know at least one is fractured if not broken as you let out a shout
"Stop!" Natasha yells, "Just tell me what you're after. Is it intel? Are you using us as leverage against the team? Just, tell me what you want"
He smiles a sinister grin that allows you to see his poorly cared for teeth and he turns to look at her, "This is what I want. I don't need your secrets, and you'd never truly give them anyway. And I couldn't care less about the Avengers. I just want to break you, Widow"
"I will kill you for this, for hurting her. And I will enjoy it" she growls, rage taking over her features, "She is not a tool to be used against me"
"She is now" he states plainly, heading back over to the table. He sets the club down, grabbing a knife instead.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself for whatever was coming next. He cuts open your shirt, leaving you bare except for your bra. The sudden exposure of cold air makes you shiver, but what really chills you is the knife he presses gently against your skin
Natashas eyes widen in fear and she can feel her heart plummet, "No, wait!"
But he doesn't, he drags the blade down down your abdomen. Its not a stab, which does carry some relief to both you and Natasha, but it is still a painful gash. Tears slip down your cheeks as he repeats the action two more times to separate areas of your abdomen. Natasha's gaze is fixed on the blood that runs down your skin and soaks into the waistband of your pants
The man steps back a bit to get a good look at his work and that's the opening Natasha had been waiting for. She grabs the chain holding her to that pipe and uses her body as a pendulum, swinging herself forward with all her strength. She moves with grace and fluidity, and wraps her calves around the man's neck. He stumbles backward, surprised by her actions and this lets her pull him in closer, choking him with her thighs now. He makes a choked sound and flails, causing the knife to clatter to the floor
"I told you not to touch her" she hisses, squeezing his throat hard with her powerful muscles
His hands grapple at her legs, trying to pry her off, but it's really no use, he's already struggling for air. It doesn't take long for his eyes to roll back and hip body go limp. When she's absolutely certain he isn't faking it she lets him go and his unconscious body tumbles to the ground with a thud.
"Are you okay?" she asks you, her eyes filled with concern
You nod, "I'll be fine once we're out of here"
You can tell by her expression that she doesn't quite believe that, but she first has to focus on getting herself then you out of the chains, then she can worry about you. She looks back up above where the chain is secured and notices that the pipe that once held her chains up has become slightly loose, likely due to her using her entire weight to swing forward. And that works very well in her favor.
She grabs the chains again and starts to swing, and after a few swings uses her agility to swing herself upside down. She gets her feet wrapped around the same pipe she's chained to, making it shake and loosen even more. You watch in awe she starts to tug on it, using her strength and gravity to eventually yank the pipe free. She crashes to the ground hard and you wince at the sound. She lets out a groan as she rolls to her side
"Tasha!" you shout, "Are you okay?!"
She groans but slowly gets to her feet, "I'm alright"
Now free from the pipe the chain easily slips off her hands and she quickly makes her way over to you. She cups your face in her hands and brushes away some of your lingering tears
"It's okay detka(baby), I've got you" she whispers soothingly
She gives your lips a quick kiss, not minding the taste of blood from your split lip. Then she retreats from you and heads over to the table. She grabs the rope and one of the smaller knives. She heads over to the man and grabs the knife still laying on the floor. In one quick motion she slices across his neck and then as if she hadn't just ended a man's life she calmly walks back over to you. She uses the small knife to pick the lock on your chain in record time, and catches you before you hit the floor
She gently helps you sit down and does her best to treat your still bleeding cuts, "I'm sorry, its my fault this happened to you"
"Its not your fault Tasha, it's his and his alone" you assure her
She shakes her head and blinks back tears, "He hurt you to get to me"
"And now he's dead."you state, "You didn't let him hurt me Tasha, and you're the reason we're free now. This isn't your fault"
"It feels like it is" she quietly admits
"It isn't" you assure her again, squeezing her hand
She lets go after a few moments in order to look over the rest of your injuries and when she's satisfied that you're not at risk she gets up and searches the man. She finds a cellphone in his pocket and immediately calls the Tower for backup, knowing they can track the call to the location.. Before hanging up she stresses to them that she wants a medic too
She comes back over to you and sits down, then she ever so carefully pulls you into her lap. She holds you close but not tightly, she doesn't want to cause any pain to your bruised areas or cuts. You settle against her, finally letting yourself feel at ease and she buries her face into the crook of your neck
"For a second there, I thought I was going to lose you" she whispers, her voice strained, "I was so scared"
"I'll need patched up, but I'm okay, Tasha" you assure her, wrapping your arm around her, "I'm okay"
A few hours later you and Natasha have both been rescued, taken back to the Tower, and patched up in the med bay. You required some stitches, and knee brace and have been given pain medication to take while on your ordered bed rest. Which means you're currently cuddled up in bed with your girlfriend.
You're curled up against her, resting your head on her shoulder and hugging your arm around her waist. She has her arm wrapped around yours too and her thumb is currently rubbing soothing circles on your hip. The scent of her shampoo fills your nostrils, and its just the calming piece of normality you needed
"I love you" you murmur
She carefully tightens her hold, still being careful of your injuries, "I love you too, Y/n, so damn much. And if I had lost you today…."
"Shh Tasha, I'm okay. You didn't lose me, so don't go there mentally okay? Be here with me now, don't think about the what ifs"
"That's easier said than done" she admits softly
"I know" you tell her, reaching up to cup her cheek
Like a cat seeking affection she leans into your touch, "Just keep holding me"
Hello, I really like your work! I was wondering if you could write about wandanat x reader where during a mission reader gets hurt and looses their memory for long time? could it also be super fluffy? thank you
Amnesia
ScarletWidow x Reader
[A/N] I'm normally good at getting fics queued but this has been a hard week for writing for some reason - at the minute no fics are queued for this weekend and it's been a busy one so you might not see anything until Monday 🥺 Loved this request so much, hope you enjoy 😘
“How much does she remember?” Natasha asks. “She can’t have forgotten everything.”
“According to Dr Cho, they forgot their own name,” Maria says in that calm, soothing voice. “They panicked and had to be sedated. They’re awake now and calm but obviously quite confused and upset.”
“So they don’t remember us?” Wanda asks in a disbelieving voice.
Maria shakes her head, “They don’t even remember themselves.”
Natasha can’t pretend she isn’t angry but she knows her focus needs to be on your recovery right now. She tries to match Maria’s even tone, “And do we know if they’ll get their memory back?”
“It’s not clear. Anything could trigger a memory; a sound, a smell, but it’ll become clearer with time I guess.”
You’d been sent on your first solo mission and this was how it had ended. Natasha and Wanda had received word that you’d been rushed to an intensive care unit after hitting your head. Your mission had mostly been over; you’d just been helping the last few civilians out of the crumbling building when it had collapsed. As you’d runaway you’d been hit by some debris, knocking you unconscious. The rescued civilians had managed to remove the wreckage from on top of you until medics could arrive on the scene. There had been a few sleepless nights whilst Natasha and Wanda worried about your fate until they’d finally received the news they’d been waiting for – you were awake.
It had come at a cost though and Natasha feels stupid now for thinking otherwise. Everything comes with a cost. You were awake but were you still you if you couldn’t even remember who you were? This shouldn’t have been allowed to happen, someone should have been sent with you. Natasha silently seethes. Maria sees the look on her face and sighs, “They’re alive. That’s the main thing.”
After being prepped by Maria they’re finally allowed through to the medbay to see you – you’d been transferred from the intensive care unit back onto a regular ward, and you smile self-consciously as your girlfriends’ walk in. Natasha takes a seat at your bedside, reaching out to take your hand, “Hey… How are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” You reply quietly.
Your hand feels awkward in Natasha’s but she doesn’t let go. Wanda stands behind her, smiling bravely at you. “Do you… Do you remember who we are?”
You hesitate and then shake your head with another self-conscious smile, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Natasha reassures you, stroking her thumb over your knuckles. “Maria told us you’re having trouble remembering things right now.”
You nod, not entirely sure who Maria is. You’ve met too many people in quick succession and you’re struggling to figure out who’s meant to mean something to you, and who you’re just meeting whilst you’re in hospital. Given the way Natasha is holding your hand, and Wanda’s soft expression as she gazes at you, you figure that these two are important. They’re the first people who haven’t come in to talk specifically about your condition, but rather just to see you. “Who are you?”
“I’m Natasha, and this is Wanda.” Natasha glances up at Wanda, not sure how much information to give you right now. She doesn’t want to overwhelm you or make you feel uncomfortable. “If you have any questions, you can ask us. We know you better than anyone.”
“It’ll be interesting to see if your opinions have changed without your memories,” Wanda says, trying to keep things light for your sake. “Like how you hate tomatoes but don’t mind tomato sauce.”
“Or how you hate wearing socks in bed but you have to wear your slippers everywhere because you don’t like your bare feet against the carpet.”
“Or how you can’t go anywhere without your headphones, even though we’ve warned you it’s dangerous to walk around listening to loud music.”
Both of them watch your expression carefully, hoping for a glimmer of recognition. When there’s none, Natasha just smiles, squeezing your hand, “It’s okay. We’ll help you, we promise.”
“I do have a few questions,” You say. “Where are my family?”
“We’re your family,” Wanda says, wondering how much to tell you. “We’re… Your girlfriends, we have been for about two years now.”
You’d been an Avenger for three years, getting together with them after one year into your work. As a child, your parents had been killed by Kingpin and his gang. Growing up in the system had made you angry and bitter, and you’d sworn revenge. After a failed attempt to take Kingpin down, you’d been taken in by the Avengers, based on Natasha’s personal recommendation. She’d recognised that anger and need for justice, it was something she’d felt her entire life.
“Everyone here in the Avengers is your family too,” Natasha says. “We’re like one big extended family.”
Having a found family had done wonders for you. As had having a permanent place to call home. One night you’d confided to Natasha and Wanda that you’d been moved twelve times as a kid, “Which doesn’t sound like a lot when I say it like that,” You’d said in the dark as you’d lain in between them, your voice catching. “But it felt like I got used to one place and then was whisked away to the next with no warning. Then I had to get used to the next set of parents and potentially siblings. Sometimes there was even a new school to get used to. It felt never ending.”
“No one’s gonna whisk you away ever again,” Wanda had said, her arm wrapping around your waist as she kissed your cheek. “We’re your family now, and this is your home. Forever.”
“You share a room with me and Wanda,” Natasha says now. “But if you’re not comfortable with that we could always set up the spare room or something.”
“We’ll figure it out as we go,” Wanda says. “There’s no pressure. Just go at your own pace. No rush.”
It’s a further two days before you’re finally discharged from the medbay. During that time all of the other Avengers come through to check how you’re doing, reintroducing themselves. Natasha and Wanda watch carefully, making sure that nobody lies to you or makes fun of you, but everyone seems to take your amnesia seriously, greeting you with sincerity. Kate and Yelena spend a couple of hours with you, reteaching you a board game that you always loved playing with them. Wanda joins in whilst Natasha watches, not the biggest fan of board games. Sam brings through his speakers so that Wanda and Natasha can play you some of your favourite songs, to see if those spark any recognition. Steve has the sense to bring through a photo album, letting you flip through the photos that had been taken of the team. Most of them were posed photos, from parties or ‘team building’ days. You’d had a lot of questions and Steve, Natasha and Wanda had been happy to answer them all.
You step into the bedroom you share with the two of them, looking around. You and Natasha had never really been sure how to decorate the space, whilst Wanda had been the absolute expert. There were photos, posters, art prints all hung up along the walls with warm, white fairy lights. You run your fingers over a photo of the three of you taken at the last Halloween party. Wanda wraps her arms around your waist, “Halloween is your favourite holiday.”
“You always insist that we have to dress up for training,” Natasha says with a smile. “And when we protested, you were like ‘well if you can kick ass dressed as a gingerbread man, you can kick ass any time.’”
“None of us ever did dress as a gingerbread man, so I’m not sure why you used that as an example but you got your point across.”
Wanda sees that you look a little uncomfortable so she takes a step back, running an awkward hand through her hair. You and Wanda have always been quite touchy, always wanting to hold hands or wrap your arms around each other. Natasha would too but not as often, whereas you and Wanda were always reaching out for each other. It wasn’t unusual to find you both cuddled up whenever you had to sit down – on the couch, in bed, even on the bus sometimes much to Natasha’s playful annoyance.
Natasha sees Wanda’s expression and smiles encouragingly, “I have an idea. Let’s go on a first date.”
“What do you mean?” You ask, turning to look at them both.
“Well, you don’t remember us. And maybe you’ve changed since the accident so let’s get to know each other again. We can fall in love with each other all over again.”
“That sounds like fun,” You say. “Okay. Let’s go on a first date.”
Two years ago your first date had been a picnic so Natasha and Wanda decide to recreate that. After all, it had worked the first time. It was actually you who’d asked them both out the first time, something Natasha had found hilarious. “You can’t ask us both out,” She’d said. “You’ll have to pick.”
“Says who?” You’d retorted. “I like you both. Maybe I’ll have chemistry with just one of you, or maybe both of you, or even none of you. Why don’t we find out?”
So they’d gone along with you and had been surprised to find that the three of you did have good chemistry. After six months of dating you’d all made it official, and moved all your things into the same room in the compound. You’d had to badger Tony for a week straight to give you all the biggest bedroom the compound had. It also had the best view, looking out over the grounds.
For the past week you’d slept in the guest room, a decision that Natasha and Wanda understood even if it did break their hearts. They were spending most of the day with you, slowly reintroducing you back into training and the hobbies that you’d previously enjoyed. You’re struggling to remember your way around the compound, something that keeps making you a bit tearful. You’d gotten lost heading from the gym to the kitchen to fetch yourself a glass of water. You’d let Wanda hug you as you cried into her shoulder, hating that you couldn’t remember somewhere that felt like home.
Wanda and Natasha felt familiar too but you were still self-conscious around them. It was difficult being surrounded by people who knew you so well, but who were effectively strangers to you. Everyone was kind but all that shared history was just… Gone for you.
They take you to central park, and Natasha lays out the picnic blanket whilst Wanda weighs down each corner, setting the picnic basket down in the middle. Wanda had prepared all of the food, not trusting Natasha with any of it. When you’d asked to get involved, she’d spent the morning making cookies with you, and now you were excited for both women to sample them. They both laugh when you try a tomato, ‘just to see’, and then immediately scrunch your nose up.
“You’re still you then,” Natasha says fondly. “I saw you wearing your slippers last night.”
“Yeah, you guys were right about the carpet, I don’t like it.”
They both laugh and the date continues easily. Natasha and Wanda are sure you must feel the chemistry too – they’re relieved to find it hasn’t gone even though you’ve lost your memory. You smile proudly when Natasha and Wanda declare your cookies ‘the best ones they’ve ever had’. Once the date is over and everything’s packed away, you don’t pull away when Wanda takes your hand to walk back to the compound. Instead your thumb strokes over her knuckles the way you always used to do and Wanda smiles to yourself. Yep, you’re definitely still you.
“Hey,” Steve says gently. “Are you lost again?”
You nod, frustrated tears in your eyes. It’s been a couple of months now and you still keep getting lost around the compound. You’ve just had an appointment with Dr Cho in the medbay who told you that your short time memory might also be affected. “You’ll learn the layout of the building eventually when it transfers to your long-term memory,” She’d said. “And then hopefully you’ll be able to start going out by yourself.”
It made you feel like a child who couldn’t be trusted to go out unsupervised. You may not have any memories of yourself from before the mission, but you know enough from what you’ve been told that you were pretty independent. You were an Avenger after all, and it wasn’t likely you were going out on the field anytime soon. Not when you couldn’t even head to the store by yourself.
Steve notices the tears in your eyes and gives you a small, sympathetic smile. “Do you want me to get Natasha and Wanda?”
You nod again, not trusting yourself to speak as you hug yourself. Steve nods too, advising you to stay there and the moment he’s out of sight the tears begin to fall down your cheeks. You sniffle, turning towards the wall, not wanting anyone to see you. It feels like only seconds when suddenly a hand is on your shoulder, “Hey Sweetheart, you okay?”
It’s Wanda and you turn, burying your head in her shoulder and wrapping your arms around her torso. It’s the first time you’ve initiated such intimate contact and her arms immediately wrap back around you, rubbing her hand up and down your back. “It’s okay… Everything’s okay…”
“I feel like an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot, it’s just… Your brain not remembering well at the minute. It’s understandable after everything that happened.”
“I can’t do anything.”
“Yes you can, you’re doing great in training. And it’s not like you’re forgetting absolutely everything, you remembered how to make those cookies.”
You’d decided to attempt baking again yesterday, finding a basic cake recipe online, and you’d also made the cookies from memory just to see if you could. Natasha and Wanda had insisted they tasted even better than last time and it felt like your first real achievement since the accident. Even that suddenly made you feel childish – you’d gone from fighting alongside the Avengers to your only major achievement being making decent cookies.
“Please don’t get upset,” Wanda says, kissing your forehead. As soon as she does she feels bad, worried you’ll be uncomfortable but her kiss seems to help so she decides to risk kissing your cheek. “Do you want to watch a movie with me and Natasha? We could pick out something that you used to love again, to see if you still like it?”
They’d been doing that a fair bit and so far, you still loved all your old, forgotten favourites. The thought of finding another lost gem does cheer you up somewhat so you nod, taking Wanda’s hand as she leads you through to the living room. Natasha is already in there reading but she looks up when she hears you both, holding her arms out when she sees you’ve been crying, “Aw baby, what’s wrong?”
“I got lost again,” You sniffle, going over to sit next to her.
Natasha pulls you into her arms, looking down to make sure you’re okay with it. You’ve been initiating more contact with them recently as you warm back up to them, but she still always double checks. You snuggle into her arms and she smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I was thinking ‘Aquamarine,” Wanda says. “You told us you watched that as a kid.”
Wanda presses play then snuggles into your other side, both women cuddling you. As the movie plays there’s something about it that seems familiar. “I think I do remember watching this,” You mumble into Natasha’s chest.
“Yeah?” Natasha asks.
“I have a vague memory of sitting on the carpet. There was someone sat next to me. I don’t really remember but I just have this feeling if that makes sense.”
“It does,” Wanda says, her fingers running up and down your arm. “Hopefully it’s the start of you beginning to remember more and more.”
When Claire and Hailey jump in the water to swim after Aquamarine, both women notice that you start to cry again. “Are you okay?” Natasha asks.
You nod, quickly wiping a tear on your cheek, “Yeah, it’s just… It’s like us.”
Wanda laughs, “Yeah, I guess it is like us. We’d both jump into the ocean to save you.”
“I’m like Aqua. You two remember each other, you have so much shared history, and I’m the new one in the group.”
“You’re not new to us,” Natasha says. “You’re still our baby.”
“And… We do love you,” Wanda says. “Like Nat said, you’re still you, still the person we fell in love with.”
Your head lolls sleepily against Natasha’s shoulder and she gives your forehead a gentle kiss, “Shall we take you back to your room?”
You shake your head, “No, I wanna… I wanna go in your room tonight.”
Natasha and Wanda exchange a pleased glance. “Our room,” Wanda says. “It’s your room too, you can come back whenever you want.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Natasha asks. “We don’t want to rush you-”
“I want to stay in your bed,” You confirm. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”
“You’re never alone,” Wanda says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “We’ll always be here if you need us.”
Both of them walk you towards their bedroom, Wanda holding your hand and Natasha’s arm protectively around your shoulders. Rather than feeling like a lost child, you now feel… Loved. Wanted. Forgetting your memories has been painful but it’s comforting to know that everyone here in this building genuinely cares about you. Natasha and Wanda obviously but you’ve noticed it in everyone else too. Everyone’s patient with you in combat training, if they see you hesitating they immediately ask if they can help, and most importantly you’ve never noticed any inconsistencies in what they tell you. Everyone is truthful. You’d asked Tony if you liked pineapple and he’d hesitated before going to find Natasha and Wanda to check, rather than just making up an answer or guessing.
It’s the first time you’ve been into your real bedroom in weeks and the faint scent of Wanda’s perfume makes you feel a strange feeling of nostalgia. This room is definitely familiar to you even if you still don’t quite remember it. Seeing Natasha’s firearm sat on her bedside table also triggers a feeling of reminisce within you – Natasha sees you looking and misunderstands, tucking it into the drawer out of sight.
They both change into their sleep clothes, forgetting that you’re probably self-conscious about getting naked in front of them. You turn away, shyly changing into your own pyjamas, a spare pair that had been left in here when you’d moved some of your stuff into the spare room. “You used to like sleeping in the middle,” Natasha says. “If you want to sleep on the end though or… You know, whatever you feel comfortable with. It’s entirely up to you.”
“I want to sleep in the middle,” You say, thinking that that does sound familiar. Their warm bodies next to you, Natasha’s soft snores mixed with Wanda’s slow breaths. The memory is faded; more of a feeling than an actual memory but it’s there somewhere.
As you climb in between them, their arms automatically wrap around you, both of them having missed you in their bed. They know that they should take it slow, give you time to adjust, but they can’t help both pressing loving kisses to your face. They don’t know if you’ll want to share their bed again tomorrow night or if tonight you’re just feeling particularly vulnerable, so they intend to make the most of every second.
“You were right.”
Natasha meets your gaze as you mumble those words, giving you a small smile, “About what?”
“I fell in love with you both all over again.”
Their eyes immediately soften, Wanda’s eyes watering as she kisses your cheek whilst Natasha kisses your forehead. “We love you so much,” Natasha says. “In this lifetime and every other.”
Perhaps you’ll never regain your memories. But you’re still here – and Natasha and Wanda have learnt not to take that for granted. No matter what struggles you face further down the line, they’ll be by your side every step of the way. They love you – and they’re relieved to know you still love them too.
5 times you almost said the three big words to Natasha and the 1 time you finally did.
Warning : mention of violence, smut at some point...
Happy Pride Month!! <3
Still working on a long fic that's kicking my ass but had to write a little something that would not leave my mind otherwise, so... Enjoy :)
⧗ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑
The room felt too big without her in it.
It was not really something you noticed right away, it was more gradual. The kind of thing that creeped in around the edges until suddenly you were hyper-aware of every empty space around you, every untouched surface, every silence that should not feel this loud.
You were lying on her bed, staring at her ceiling, one arm tucked behind your head and resting on her pillow.
You told yourself you would not do this.
You would not get used to the way it felt to be surrounded by her and her things - one of her leather jackets slung over the chair, a pair of her boots by the door, the faint scent of her shampoo still clinging stubbornly to the pillows around you.
And yet... here you were anyway.
Pathetically laying in her bed... Curled up beneath her blankets, your head buried in her pillow, surrounded by traces of her that made the absence somehow worse.
Missing her.
The thing was, you had spent years learning how to be alone. It had never bothered you before. You liked your own company. Liked the quiet, liked having your own space.
Then Natasha had happened.
And somewhere between late-night takeout, stolen hours between missions, and waking up tangled together more often than not, your definition of normal had shifted without asking permission.
"You’re such a traitor." You murmured quietly as Liho, her black cat, shifted slightly against the side of your head and let out the biggest sigh known to catkind.
Her tail flicked in response, unimpressed, before settling more comfortably against you, warm and solid and very clearly thinking the same as you.
You sighed as well, letting your head tilt to the side as you glanced down at her.
"You're supposed to make this less pathetic, you know?"
Liho blinked at you slowly, greenish eyes looking at you as if she were waiting for something.
You reached down absently, gently scratching behind her ears. She leaned into it immediately, purring, and you could not help the small smile that tugged at your lips even if you tried. She always seemed to have that power over you. And her owner too.
"Yeah, yeah. I know," you mumbled, pursing your lips. "You miss her."
Because that was the thing, it was not just you. Perhaps the situation would be easier if it had been the case.
The whole room felt like it was waiting. Like it was holding its breath until Natasha walked back through the door and everything clicked back into place.
You let your gaze drift towards the nightstand - everything exactly where she left it, like she will be back any second.
Except she will not.
Not tonight.
Not for a few days, at least.
Solo missions would do that.
Liho shifted again, stretching this time, one of her paws pressing lightly against your ear.
You exhaled slowly, staring back up at the ceiling.
This was stupid.
You were being stupid. And you knew it, but apparently reason had no play in your feelings.
She was fine, after all. She was always fine.
You did not need to...
But your hand moved before you fully decided to, reaching for your phone where it rested on the mattress beside you. You stared at the screen for a second, the background picture greeting you not helping to talk yourself out of doing what you wanted to. Still, you paused for a second, teeth grazing your lower lip as you forced yourself to think rationally about this.
She was on a mission, after all. She did not need distractions.
She definitely did not need you calling in the middle of the night because you... Well, because you what? Missed her? Wanted to see her? Heard her voice? Make sure she was okay?
That felt... dangerously close to something neither of you were ready to unpack right now. Liho let out a small, impatient sound, nudging your hand with her head.
You glanced down at her, eyebrows raised.
"...You’re not helping." You grunted, closing your eyes before letting out yet another sigh.
God, you were so pathetic.
Liho was still staring at you when you opened back your eyes, you rolled them before hitting the call button.
It rang once... Twice... You almost talked yourself out of it and hung up but by the third ring, the line clicked.
"Yeah?" Natasha's voice answered, slightly hoarse, a little quieter than usual.
Relief hit you so fast it almost made you dizzy and angry at yourself. One word, one raspy, sleep-roughened word, and suddenly the knot that had been sitting beneath your ribs for days loosened.
Were you this desperate and gone for this woman? You hated that, hated how immediate it was - as if some part of you had been waiting for proof that she was still there. Still breathing. Still okay.
The realization hit a second later and made you want to throw your phone across the room. Because, God, you really were gone for this woman. You needed to get a grip on yourself, and that as soon as possible. And preferably before she found out as well.
"Hey, you..." You replied, smiling at the ceiling, scrunching your nose as Liho's snout nudged your chin.
There was a faint rustle on the other end - movement, maybe. Fabric shifting. The soft, distant hum of a foreign location you could not quite place.
"You okay?" Natasha asked immediately, worry lacing into her voice.
Of course she did.
You huffed a small breath, glancing down at Liho as she curled tighter against your shoulder, ears shifting at the voice coming out of your phone.
"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine."
There was a beat of silence where you could practically hear Natasha thinking.
"Then why are you calling?" Straight to the point, not hitting around the bush with her - you always liked that. Usually.
You hesitated, because you did not actually really have a good answer.
"Can't I just call m-" You stopped yourself just in time, clearing your throat. Logically you knew she was your girlfriend. You had been on too many dates together if that was not the case. But you never said the actual word. There was actually more than one word you had not said yet. "Can't I just call you? It's been almost a week, I wanted to hear your voice."
Natasha let out a faint exhale on the other end, almost a huff.
"Of course you can call me, I just thought something was wrong at first," she grumbled, stopping as she heard you shift. "You're in my room."
It was not a question, it made you blink, caught off guard by her words.
"Wha-how did you even know?"
"Background noise," she replied, a smile in her voice. "And... you just confirmed it."
You shifted slightly, pulling the blanket up a little higher as you rolled your eyes at her smug tone.
"Well, for the record, I’m here for a very important reason."
There was a soft, amused sound from Natasha on the other end.
"Huh uh, sure."
"It's true. You said Liho needed supervision and she doesn't wanna leave your room, so... here I am." You replied, chuckling when the cat let out a soft chirp, shifting closer to the voice.
"Alright, turn the camera on." Natasha asked, waiting.
You smiled, turning on your side and putting the phone on the other pillow to make sure she had a good view of Liho too.
Natasha's face appeared on the screen seconds later, her hair pulled back in a neat braid.
"There are my girls," she smirked, the corner of her mouth softening as she took in Liho's curled up position next to you. Her gaze flicked briefly to the side - like she was taking in the angle, the background, the way you were positioned. "You're on my side." She hummed, one eyebrow raising knowingly.
You narrowed your eyes, biting down the inside of your cheek.
"What?"
Natasha's smirk deepened, slow and knowing.
"The bed... you're on my side." She repeated, voice dropping just slightly as she raised both eyebrows this time.
You froze, because... you were. Without even thinking about it.
"It's... more comfortable." You said quickly.
Natasha did not respond right away, just looked at you like she knew that was not the real reason. Or to the very least, not the only one.
Your pulse picked up slightly at the look on her face so you quickly cleared your throat, looking down at the cat.
"Liho chose it first." You added, gesturing vaguely to the cat as backup. But of course, the traitor that she was, barely even reacted, simply staring at the screen while licking her paw absently.
Natasha chuckled, low and warm.
"Of course she did." She looked at the cat with playful suspicion before her eyes slid back to you.
You huffed out a quiet laugh, nodding.
"Yeah, she’s been complaining. A lot. I think she misses you."
Natasha pressed her lips together, taking in the sight in front of her.
"How is the roommate's situation going?"
"...She knocked over a glass earlier." You glanced down at the cat again, making a face.
Natasha sighed, glaring at Liho through the screen.
"I chose her name so well." She shook her head, but there was unmistakable affection in it.
You smiled before you could stop yourself.
And she saw it.
Of course she did.
Her gaze lingered on your face for a second longer than necessary, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes.
"Why did you call?" And there it was, the question you knew was coming again at some point.
You hesitated, because the real answer was sitting right there, obvious and inconvenient and a little too honest for comfort.
Because you wanted to see her.
Because you missed her.
Because her room felt too empty and wrong without her in it.
Because ever since you met her, she was always in a corner of your mind and these last couple of days you went back to that place more times than you would have liked - and actually needed to hear from the real her before turning completely crazy.
You shifted slightly, picking at a loose thread on the blanket.
"Just checking in, you know..."
Natasha’s expression did not change but you could tell she did not buy it.
"Okay, and now the truth?"
"Hey, that's mean. I am checking in too." You grumbled, frowning at her.
She leaned closer to the camera, her face taking up more of the screen. The way she called your name always got you, and this time was no exception.
"You would check in if you knew I could actually talk about the mission. Which I can't. Which you already know. So...?"
"Wow. Okay. Read me like a book, why don’t you..." You huffed a small breath, rolling your eyes.
Natasha gave a small, smug shrug.
"I am."
You glanced back up at her. And unfortunately, she was still watching you like that. Too focused, too attentive, like she was waiting patiently for you to find the words.
Your chest tightened.
"...Couldn’t sleep." You admitted instead, softer this time.
It was not the whole truth but it was not a lie either.
Natasha's face softened.
"Yeah? Even if you're in my bed, surrounded by all my things... And wearing my shirt?" She sounded almost amused.
You glared at her, frowning.
"Stop being mean, I'll hang up."
"Okay, okay." Natasha held up one hand in mock surrender.
She looked genuinely amused for a minute though. But then silence settled again, not the same as before. It felt heavier now. Charged with something you could not quite name, only feel.
You watched her for a second. The way her eyes scanned the area behind the camera. The way her shoulders stayed just a little too tense, even when she was standing still.
She was working.
Even now.
Always.
"But I will anyway, you should get back to it..." You added quietly, offering her a gentle smile.
Natasha exhaled, and for a moment you thought she might actually protest.
"Yeah, probably." But she did not move, did not end the call, neither did you.
Your heart was beating a little too fast. There was something sitting in your chest again - that familiar pressure, that weight that had been building for weeks now, threading itself through every moment like this.
You swallowed.
"I-" You started, breaths burning your lungs.
Natasha stilled, eyebrows raising as you suddenly stopped talking.
"Yeah?" She prompted.
Your fingers tightened around the phone as you brought it closer. God.
This was stupid.
It was just words.
Just three words.
You could say them.
Right now.
She was right there. Looking at you like that. Like... like she was waiting. Like she could see the battle happening behind your eyes, like she was standing at the edge of the same cliff.
"I... I l-" The words caught, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as you drew in a breath before panic slammed into you. You saw it then, so clearly, the possibility of silence. Of surprise. Of not hearing it back... And suddenly every survival instinct you possessed grabbed the wheel. "I mean I... You know,Liho is being very well taken care of. And I'll keep on doing that," you finished abruptly, the words coming out too fast. "Just so you know. Don't have to worry. About anything." You added with a smile.
Natasha blinked, then her face did something complicated, and suddenly she looked like she was the one whose air had been punched out of her chest even though you were the one actually out of breath.
"Yeah... I can see that."
"Good," you murmured, nodding a few times, hesitating again before clearing your throat. "Stay safe, okay?"
Natasha nodded slowly, eyebrows furrowing.
"...I will," she said finally, her gaze lingering on you for a second longer than it should. As if she were suspicious. "I’ll call you when I’m done."
You smiled, even though the motion felt rushed and out of place.
"Yeah. Okay."
Neither of you hung up immediately.
You just sit there for a second, looking at each other through the screen, waiting for more. Like there was something else to say.
Something just out of reach.
But then the screen went dark.
And the room felt just a little too big again, leaving you with words too big to deal with.
⧗
The plan had been simple on paper.
It always was.
In reality, however, it had dissolved into noise, smoke, and the kind of chaos that made your ears ring and all your carefully constructed thoughts scatter like startled birds.
Somewhere above you, something heavy collapsed with a metallic shriek, sending vibrations through the whole floor. The lights flickered twice before settling into a dim, unreliable pulse that painted everything in uneven shadows as dust fell from the ceiling like dirty snowflakes.
You pressed your back against the cold concrete pillar behind you, forcing yourself to breathe through the adrenaline clawing up your throat after taking down five other men. Your comm crackled with overlapping voices - Sam swearing, Tony complaining about power surges, someone yelling coordinates that immediately got drowned out by static.
Your earpiece buzzed again after another slow breath, and this time Natasha's voice came through clearly: "Status?"
Her voice was calm and grounded. Far too calm for the situation.
You exhaled sharply, something in your chest loosening just from hearing her - the sound of her voice hit you with embarrassing force. The building was still trying its absolute best to collapse on top of you. Your ears were ringing and your shoulder hurt and there were armed men somewhere in the vicinity actively trying to kill you. And yet the moment Natasha spoke, something inside your chest loosened.
You actually hated that she could do that, like some part of your brain had quietly filed her under safe, under trust, under the person you wanted beside you when everything else went to hell.
"Took down most of them but pinned on the lower level, door won't fucking open," you muttered, glancing around the corner before quickly ducking back as a burst of gunfire shredded the wall where your head had been a second ago. "Shit, three hostiles, maybe more. You?" There was a brief pause when you could practically hear her calculating.
"On my way." Natasha replied, voice steady despite the gunfire echoing faintly in the background of her comm.
You huffed a breath that was half relief, half exasperation, dragging the hand that was not holding your gun through your damp hair as dust still rained down from above. You perked by the wall, shooting one of the three guards.
"Nat, you’re not exactly in a position to be detouri-"
"I said I'm on my way." She cut in sharply before you could get another word out.
That tone meant she was not taking anything for an answer besides what she had already decided.
You rolled your eyes - even though she could not see you - before dodging another bullet as you ducked into another corner, firing two more back and hearing a groan as one bullet touched a shoulder.
"Yeah, okay, Romanoff. Because this mission hasn’t gone off the rails enough already, let’s just add 'reckless heroics' to the list."
"Shut up and hold your fire," Natasha scoffed, appearing on the other end of the hallways and taking down the two men before quickly jogging back to your side. "Well, you're welcome." She breathed out, bruised lips forming a small smile.
Before you could fire back, another explosion rocked the building, way too close this time. The wall at your back shuddered violently, cracks splintering up its side. You stumbled as the floor shook, catching yourself just in time, heart slamming hard enough to make your vision blur as the ceiling above the three guards lying on the floor suddenly collapsed on them.
"Fuck-" You gasped, pushing off and moving quickly to a slightly less terrible piece of cover with the redhead following. "Okay, that was... not ideal. Like at all." You added, one arm extended in front of Natasha - even though no one was coming your way as she stopped at your side.
"No shit." She grunted, scanning the area before tugging on your wrist to urge you to follow her.
"Took the long detour to come to me, huh." You joked as you carefully climbed back the stairs to find yet another issue.
"Traffic." She replied dryly, already peeking around the corner, assessing, calculating. Always working.
And God, even now, even like this, even with alarms screaming overhead and dust coating the back of your throat, even while your heart was trying to punch its way through your ribs - your eyes kept finding her.
The steady set of her shoulders. The quick, efficient movements of her hands. The way she assessed every angle, every exit, every threat in a matter of seconds.
Natasha always looked like she belonged in chaos, like she had made peace with it years ago and simply learned how to move through the storm, or perhaps had made a pact with it and already knew nothing would happen to her.
It should have been terrifying, instead it made something warm and painful unfurl beneath your ribs. Because every impossible situation somehow became more manageable when she was standing beside you. Because she had come for you.
The mission had gone sideways and the building was falling apart. And somehow Natasha had still heard you were trapped and immediately changed course. No hesitation, no discussion.
Your chest tightened - not from fear this time, but something sharper, heavier. Something that had been building for weeks, months, quietly threading itself through moments each more inadequate than the last.
You swallowed hard, forcing your attention back to the situation at hand.
"Hey, Nat," you said slowly, glancing up at the ceiling that was definitely not supposed to be doing that. "Tell me you have a backup plan."
Natasha glanced at you, lips pressed together.
"I do..." She grumbled, forcing a door open with her shoulder before quickly climbing up the next stack of emergency stairs. "Not sure you’ll like it, though."
"Natasha, I already don't like that we're going up right now..." You grunted, running to catch up with her.
She did not answer, just kept moving. The stairs were narrow and creaky underfoot.
"Sam or Tony’s gonna catch us on the rooftop." She replied, frowning at the door that refused to open. She kicked the combination lock, hissing as she grabbed a bunch of wires, ignoring the look you gave her.
Another tremor rippled through the building, stronger this time. A section of the ceiling caved in somewhere nearby with a deafening crash, the sound echoing through the corridors like a warning bell.
Your pulse spiked.
This was bad.
This was really bad.
Not because of the collapsing building, not because Tony's voice had disappeared from the comms three minutes ago, not because every instinct you possessed was screaming that the situation was deteriorating faster than anyone could fix. But because, for one horrible second, you genuinely thought this might be it.
And suddenly, all the things that normally seemed important vanished.
And suddenly, all you could focus on was Natasha. Natasha, crouched beside a broken security panel. Natasha, covered in sweat, soot and bruises.
And suddenly, the words were there.
Right there.
Sitting at the back of your throat, heavy and insistent and impossible to ignore anymore - because the thought of leaving this world without telling her hit you harder than any fear you might have felt all night.
You took in another shaky breath, your eyes tracking the smudge of soot along her jaw, the way a strand of red hair had come loose and was sticking to her cheek, the dried blood on her chin, the sharp focus in her eyes even as the world quite literally fell apart around you.
God.
If there was ever a moment... If the building came down right now, if this was the last conversation you ever had, you might actually not bear the idea of her never knowing.
"Nat," you started, your voice coming out tighter than you intended, almost swallowed by the distant sound of collapsing concrete. "If we, you know, don’t make it-"
"We will." She cut you off, the response immediate, like she had not even needed to think about it.
You blinked, lips parted as you observed her work on the colorful wires carefully.
"I... well, yeah, but like, if we don’t-"
"But we will," Natasha repeated, sharper this time, finally glancing at you. There was something in her eyes now - something stubborn, unyielding and fierce. "I won’t accept otherwise."
You stared at her for a second, incredulous, adrenaline and frustration tangling together in your chest.
"Oh my god, I know," you shot back, gesturing vaguely at the crumbling building around you. "I’m just trying to tell y-"
"Dekta," she cut in, her voice dropping just slightly, softer but no less firm. "It’s me. I won’t let anything bad happen to us... If you let me work on those fucking wires."
And there it was.
That certainty.
That absolute, unwavering belief that she could hold the entire world together through sheer willpower alone if it meant keeping you safe.
Your chest ached.
Because you knew her.
You knew where that came from.
And you knew how dangerous it was.
You let out a breath that turned into a frustrated half-laugh, dragging a hand down your face.
"Fuck, you’re so stubborn," you muttered, shaking your head at this impossible woman. "Whatever."
But the words did not go away.
They just settled deeper, heavier, waiting.
And the building gave another violent shudder, as if reminding you that time was running out.
⧗
It started as nothing.
At least, that was what you told yourself.
Just another debrief after another mission successfully wrapped. So, naturally, another cluster of agents and Avengers lingering a little too long in the common area with glasses in hands and loud music all around.
You noticed her by accident.
At least, that was what you told yourself later.
The truth was that your eyes had developed a bad habit over the past several months.
No matter how crowded the room was or who you were talking to, no matter how hard you tried to focus on literally anything else - they always found Natasha eventually.
Like a compass needle snapping north.
You could be in the middle of a conversation, could be laughing at something Tony said, could be halfway through a story - and somehow your gaze would drift across the room searching for red hair and green eyes before you even realized what you were doing.
Tonight was no different.
One second you were pretending to listen to Sam rant about government paperwork, leaning back against the counter with a drink you had half-drowned already, the next your eyes had wandered.
And there she was...
Beautiful.
Effortlessly, unfairly beautiful.
Standing a few feet away and talking to... someone.
You would not have thought twice about it, except... Well, she was smiling.
Not the polite, diplomatic curve of her lips she used when she was playing a role. Not the sharp, amused smirk she gave when she was teasing.
A real smile. Soft and easy and unrestricted.
Your stomach flipped, and not the pleasant kind of movements it usually did when it involved her.
You narrowed your eyes slightly, trying to focus past the noise in the room to get a better look at who she was talking to. Some agent, you recognized the face vaguely, newer, maybe. You did not really know. What you could decipher however was the confident stance, way too relaxed to be speaking with Natasha, and leaning just a little too close.
And you realized with anger seeping into your veins that your girlfriend was not stepping away.
In fact, she tilted her head slightly, listening carefully before saying something back. And God, the agent had the fucking audacity to laugh.
Your grip tightened around the glass in your hand.
It was nothing.
Right?
It had to be nothing. Natasha knew plenty of people. People you did not know yourself. It was part of her job, after all. And it was not fair, she was not doing anything wrong. It was fine, not a big deal. But your slightly inebriated brain was set on convincing yourself it was a very big deal.
You forced your shoulders to relax, dragging your gaze away.
She was allowed to talk to people, a completely normal activity that human beings engaged in every day.
She was allowed to smile, too. Hell, you loved her smile.
This was normal.
This was-
You glanced back before you could stop yourself, and they were still talking. God, how long was this discussion going to be?
Your eyes kept on tracking every movement for the following minutes while the rest of your face was still pretending to listen to Sam’s story.
Every smile, every second she remained standing there. The worst part was that you trusted Natasha completely. This was not about trust, it was somehow more embarrassing than that, it was wanting.
Wanting her attention.
Wanting that smile.
Wanting to be the person she looked at like that.
And watching someone else get it felt like tiny little paper cuts somewhere beneath your ribs.
Death by a thousand stupid insecurities.
You took another drink.
An excellent decision, clearly.
Natasha said something else, her expression shifted - something amused flickering in her eyes - and the agent reached out briefly, brushing her dirty, unworthy fingers against her arm as she responded.
Something in your chest twisted.
Okay.
No.
Nope.
That was not happening.
You pushed off the counter before you could think better of it, crossing the room with the purpose you intended. You told yourself it was casual. That you were just... joining the conversation. Gathering information before actually stepping in.
Not interrupting.
Definitely not interrupting.
Natasha noticed you coming the moment your footstep hit a particularly creaky floorboard two steps to her right. Her gaze lifted, locking onto yours - sharp, assessing and aware like she always knew exactly where you were in a room.
The... woman - whoever she was or thought she was - beside her was still speaking, oblivious to the sudden shift in atmosphere.
"Hey," you said, a little too quickly, stopping beside the redhead and leaning into her side more heavily than you intended, blinking a few times to stop the world from moving too much - perhaps you should have stopped at two drinks like Sam suggested earlier.
The agent turned to you and offered an easy smile, probably delighted to have two Avengers speaking to her.
You nodded stiffly, barely acknowledging her before your attention snapped back to the person who actually mattered to you.
"Didn’t know you were still in debrief mode."
Natasha's lips twitched at the contact, subtle but there, her hand spreading on the small of your back to steady you.
"We’re not." She replied, her voice calm and even as always.
"Right," you said, glancing between them. "Just... chatting then."
"Yes." Natasha’s eyes narrowed slightly.
There was a beat.
An awkward one, if you could say so yourself.
You did not like it.
"So," you added, forcing something casual into your tone that did not quite land the way you wanted it to. "What’d I miss?"
The unknown woman chuckled nervously.
"Not much. Just telling Miss Romanoff about my upgrade ideas for her bites."
"Her bites?" You replied, eyebrows raised, ignoring the way Natasha's hand tightened on your back in warning.
"Yeah, you know... widow bites. They're impressive already but Mister Stark wanted my help to upgrade them and Miss Romanoff had some very good suggestions," she continued, praising your girlfriend like you were not standing right the fuck there. "Didn’t expect that kind of knowledge, actually. You know a lot about... well, a lot." The young woman giggled.
Something about the way she said it, like it was new, like she was just discovering something you had known for so long... it grated.
"Yeah," you said again, tighter this time. "She does tend to know a lot about a lot." You let out a snort, giving the young woman a look.
Natasha’s gaze flicked to you again, sharper now. Assessing.
The woman glanced between the two of you, clearly picking up on something. Finally. Tony had not picked the brightest one, it seemed.
"Well," she said, clearing her throat slightly. "I should, uh, let you t-"
"Yep," you cut in quickly. "Perhaps you should."
Natasha shot you a look at that, but the woman just nodded awkwardly and stepped away, muttering something about other projects.
You did not even watch her go, your focus was entirely on Natasha now.
The second she was out of earshot, the silence shifted.
Your redhead turned to you fully, arms crossing as she let go of you.
"Okay," she said, eyebrows raised. "What the hell was that?"
Your jaw clenched as you leaned against the wall for support, making a face of confusion.
"What was what?"
Natasha exhaled through her nose.
"That," she repeated, gesturing vaguely in the direction the agent disappeared. "Just now."
You let out a short breath, shaking your head.
"Nothing, just... talked to your new friend, that's all."
Natasha's expression flattened, her eyes flashing with something that was both arousing and thrilling. God, whatever was in your drink really fucked you up.
"What is your problem?"
"My problem?" You echoed, incredulous. "I don’t have a problem."
Natasha stepped closer, lowering her voice.
"Really," she said flatly, unimpressed. "Because you just interrupted a conversation for no reason and then acted li-"
"For no reason?" You cut in, the words coming out sharper than you intended. "Seriously?"
Natasha's jaw tightened, irritation flashing across her face.
"Yes. Seriously." She hissed back, keeping her voice low but making sure to send her point across.
You stared at her, incredulous.
"Wow," you muttered, running a hand through your hair. "Okay. Good to know then."
"Good to know what?" Natasha frowned.
"That you’re just... completely fucking oblivious." You grumbled.
"Excuse me?" Her eyebrows raised higher.
You hesitated. Because saying it out loud felt... actually ridiculous.
And petty.
And yet...
"You guys were flirting." You said finally.
The words hung in the air for a moment, then Natasha let out a sigh, leaned back against the wall, and turned to face you.
"I really wasn't."
You let out a disbelieving huff.
"Na-"
"I wasn't," Natasha repeated, firmer now, her gaze steady. "And if she thought I was, she's sorely mistaken."
You shrugged, the alcohol not helping you think clearly.
"Well, you were smiling."
"I smile," she replied, voice cooling as something you could not quite understand shifted in her expression, her shoulders dropping. "Sometimes."
"I don't know, not like that..." You grumbled lamely.
Natasha stared at you for a long moment, then exhaled through her nose as her eyes narrowed.
"Yeah, like what?"
"Like-" You stopped, frustrated, gesturing vaguely because you did not even have the right words for it. "Like you meant it or something."
"And that's a problem?" Natasha huffed out a laugh.
You opened your mouth before closing it again.
Because no. It should not be.
She was allowed to smile. Allowed to talk to people. Allowed to-
"Let’s just forget it..." You muttered, shaking your head.
Natasha reached out, gripping your chin gently and forcing you to look at her.
"Nuh uh," she said immediately, lips twitching. "Don’t do that. You started this, now finish it. Even if you're drunk."
You let out a sharp breath, throwing her a dirty look at her last words.
"Well, it’s just..." You cut yourself off again, jaw tightening. "It’s nothing, can we drop it?"
"It clearly isn't nothing."
"It is," you insisted, even though your chest felt tight, your thoughts a mess. "I just didn’t expect you to be so... friendly."
Natasha studied you, letting go of your chin to rest her palm on your sternum, thumb brushing the collar of your shirt.
"I'm friendly when I choose to be." She hummed.
"Yeah, I noticed." You chuckled, the words coming out more bitter than you intended this time. You reached for her hand with one of yours, keeping it on you - the touch grounding in a tilting world.
Natasha laced her fingers through yours, squeezing slightly.
"So what? I can't talk to someone now?"
"That’s not what I said."
"It’s what you’re implying."
"I’m not implying anything-"
Natasha sighed, cutting you off.
"You walked over there and shut down a conversation because you didn’t like it," she replied, voice sharpening. "So tell me, what exactly is the issue here?"
You stared at her.
Because the issue was obvious.
At least, it was to you.
But saying it out loud? That was different.
"That woman was clearly into you." You said instead.
Natasha blinked at you before snorting.
"Yeah, and?"
"And?" You stopped, frustrated, running a hand through your hair again. "And nothing. It’s just, like, obvious."
Her gaze locked onto yours, amusement flickering there.
"Yeah? Should I have?"
"I don’t know," you snapped, frowning at her, not understanding the funny aspect of this discussion like she seemed to. "Maybe... Probably."
Natasha leaned in closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her breath.
"Why?"
The question landed heavier than it should, the hair at the back of your neck standing up in alarm.
You hesitated.
Because the answer was sitting right there, at the front of your mind, loud and insistent and impossible to ignore.
Because you did not like seeing someone else look at her like that.
Because you did not like the idea of her wanting that from someone else.
Because you-
"Because I-" The words slipped out before you could stop them, your voice cracking. "I just don’t like it, okay?"
Natasha hummed, lips curling into a satisfied smile, thumb brushing your hand.
You swallowed hard.
Your heart was pounding, she could probably feel it.
"I-I don't like seeing you like that. Imagining you with someone else." You grumbled, the words rough, pulled straight out of your chest.
Natasha pursed her lips, eyes on your frowning face.
"You think I’m 'with' someone else?" She asked, amused.
"No," you said quickly. "No, that’s not what I-just-" you shook your head, frustrated with yourself now. "Forget it. You can't understand."
Natsha hummed, looking at you with that familiar mixture of amusement and fondness, as if you were the most entertaining thing she had encountered all evening.
"Then explain it to me," she challenged, stepping closer and lowering her voice. "Because from where I’m standing, it looks a lot like you got jealous over a conversation."
"I didn’t," you stopped yourself again, exhaling sharply. "You're enjoying this too much," you grunted, giving her a look. "Okay, maybe I did. A little."
Natasha smirked, really smirked, the kind that made your stomach flip.
"Good of you to keep up, I've been enjoying it for five minutes," she chuckled, tilting her head to give you a knowing look. "A little?" She repeated.
"Fine. More than a little." You grumbled.
Natasha's smirk softened into something warmer, almost fond. Her eyes flicked downward, kissing you before you could dig yourself into a deeper hole than you were already, lips smiling against yours as she tasted the remeanant of the alcohol there.
You closed your eyes, trying to keep your mouth shut too. Because the truth was right there.
Because you loved her.
It sat at the back of your throat, heavy, burning, ready. Pulsing in time with the organ in your chest.
This would be so easy, too easy, to whisper it against her lips and blame it on the liquid courage coursing through you. To gasp it into her mouth, letting her swallow the words and sealing them with your insistent lips on hers.
You were already here, already halfway there, already saying things you probably should not be saying.
What were three more words?
Your pulse pounded as she stepped away, deep green eyes opening to stare at you.
"Wait..." Your voice faltered, breath catching as everything crashed together at once. "You're, like... very... important," you frowned, confused about where you were going with that, the words coming out of your mouth not necessarily the ones you expected. "I mean, like... I love... that you're interested in me. Only me." You finished, weaker than what you almost said.
Safer.
Natasha's eyes searched your face, like she was trying to find something you were not saying.
She shifted closer, wrapping her arms around your neck.
"Well, I thought that was pretty clear already, but I'm very much only interested in you, silly." She breathed out against your lips.
The words were steady and certain, making the hair at your nape raise again. But they did not quite settle the storm in your chest, even as your hands settled on her waist, heavy eyelids blinking to look at her.
Natasha kissed you again, softer this time, lingering.
Her hands came up to cup your face, thumbs slowly brushing over the apples of your cheeks like she was memorizing them.
"Next time," she whispered, smiling softly. "Maybe try using words a little better before jumping to conclusions."
You huffed a small, humorless laugh.
"Yeah. I’ll work on that, kinda hard after those insane drinks Clint wanted me to try, though..." You grumbled, staring into her green pools that lulled you closer, limbs melting into her.
And somehow you still wanted more.
Greedy and pathetic and hopelessly in love. The realization hit so hard it nearly stole your breath - well, that and her tongue tracing over your lips.
If only she knew the truth, though...
If only you could actually do that.
Said the words, the right ones, the real ones.
But instead, they stayed where they had been for weeks now, caught in your throat.
Unsaid.
⧗
Natasha woke you with a sound that did not belong in her bedroom.
Not a scream - Natasha Romanoff did not scream - but something very close to it. It sounded like a strangled inhale, like she surfaced too fast from underwater and forgot how lungs worked.
Your eyes snapped open instantly.
The room was dark except for the thin blue glow of the digital clock on the nightstand showing 3:13 AM.
Beside you, Natasha was rigid. Not sitting up, not moving, not one arm above her head like you caught her doing before. Just frozen flat on her back, chest heaving in shallow and uncontrolled breaths that were trying very hard not to become panicked.
"Nat?"
You pushed yourself up on one elbow when no response came from her, sleep dissolving immediately from your brain. The sheets were tangled around her legs, a sheen of sweat glinted across the exposed skin of her throat. Her hands were fisted at her sides so tight you could see the tendons straining.
"Natasha." You murmured, a little softer this time as you shifted closer, still careful, because you had learned to be careful with her.
Her eyelids finally fluttered open at the movemnt, eyes cutting toward you, green and glassy in the dark - but they did not really see you yet. They were still trapped somewhere else entirely, something years away from this room. The Red Room. A mission gone wrong. Or some memory she will never tell you about. There were ghosts living behind Natasha’s eyes sometimes. You knew that much.
And tonight they followed her into bed.
Your chest ached immediately - not because she looked broken, Natasha never looked broken, she looked exhausted like she had spent the last several hours fighting ghosts no one else could see.
"Oh, honey." The endearment slipped out before you could stop it and something in her expression cracked.
Not dramatically, because Natasha never broke dramatically either. But you saw it, that tiny flicker of exhaustion beneath the mask she was trying to pull back into place - tonight she was not fast enough. Tonight you caught the crack before the mask could close.
"’m fine..." She murmured automatically, her voice rough.
You almost scoffed at the lie, except there was nothing funny about the way her breathing still stuttered every few seconds.
"Yeah," you murmured instead, giving her a look. "Clearly."
Normally she would smirk at that. Throw something sarcastic back. Deflect. Tonight she just closed her eyes briefly like she was too worn out to actually pretend and let out a low sigh.
You hesitated for only half a second before reaching for her. That hesitation did not exist before. In the beginning, you touched Natasha carefully because you did not know if she wanted it. Now you hesitated because sometimes nightmares left her halfway feral with adrenaline and instinct. Once, months ago, she woke up swinging.
She cried afterward.
Not visibly, but her hands shook while she checked your jaw for bruising, and she refused to look at you for the rest of the night and following day so you would not be able to see her glassy eyes.
You remembered holding her face and saying, "Nat, hey, it’s okay, it was an accident." You remembered her whispering, horrified, "I could’ve hurt you." As if she had not spent every day since trying to make up for it with hands gentler than ever before.
Tonight, though, the second your fingers brushed her wrist, she grabbed you. Hard.
Never enough to hurt, just enough to reveal how desperately she needed the contact.
Your breath caught.
Natasha turned into you so quickly, almost hopelessly, and pressed into you like she could not get close enough fast enough. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other hooked under your shoulder, and then she was burying her face against your neck with a shuddering exhale.
Natasha never clinged before.
Your heart practically fractured on the spot.
"Okay," you whispered immediately, wrapping both arms around her. "Okay, I’ve got you."
She said nothing, not that you expected her to talk right now, but her grip tightened.
You could feel the aftermath of the nightmare in the tension running through her body. Every muscle pulled taut. Every breath measured too carefully.
You started rubbing slow circles against her back, carefully laying back against the mattress, thumbs pressing gently into her sides. It took a while before she melted even a little.
"You wanna talk about it?" You asked quietly, lips brushing her hairline.
You only received a tiny shake of her head against your throat in answer.
"Okay. That’s okay too."
Another few minutes passed in silence. Outside the compound windows, rain tapped very softly against the glass - a reminder that the world kept on moving in small, ordinary ways while you held one of the deadliest women on the planet together with your bare hands.
The thought would almost be funny if it did not feel so devastatingly tender.
Natasha shifted closer even though you did not think that was physically possible. One of her legs slid between yours, anchoring herself there. Her fingers curled into the back of your sleep shirt like she was afraid you would disappear if she let go.
Your throat tightened unexpectedly, lips pursing. Most people only knew the polished version of Natasha Romanoff. The smirks. The sharp edges. The glares. The dry humor. The controlled, untouchable elegance.
The Avenger.
The spy.
The weapon.
But you knew this version too.
The one who woke up shaking. The one who hoarded affection like she did not know when it would be taken away again. The one who pretended she was not tired right up until she fell asleep on your shoulder. The one who quietly moved closer whenever a room became too crowded. The one who checked that you got home safely even when she was halfway across the world. The one currently curled against your chest as if your heartbeat was the only thing keeping the nightmares away.
The one who pretended she did not need anyone while silently gravitating toward you over and over and over.
You planted a kiss onto her head, nose resting there as your lips stayed pressed on her temple. Immediately, impossibly, she softened further like that single gesture undid another knot inside her.
Your chest hurt so badly with it that you almost said it right then.
The three words rose so fast it scared you.
You stopped yourself so abruptly your breath almost caught audibly.
Natasha did not notice. Or if she did, she did not question it.
She was still tucked against you, eyes closed now, breathing gradually evening out while your heart absolutely lost its mind inside your ribcage.
Because holy shit.
Holy shit. You nearly blurred it out.
Again.
Panic bloomed instantly.
Not because it was not true.
God, that was part of the problem. It was too true. Because loving Natasha was not a choice you made anymore - it had never been your choice. It had become instinct. As natural as breathing, as inevitable as gravity. You loved all of her. The legend. The weapon. The woman.
Especially the woman.
You stared at the ceiling, fingers still moving gently through her hair while your thoughts spiraled violently out of control.
This was not the moment.
Actually, this would be the worst possible moment, if you thought about it.
She just had a nightmare. She was vulnerable and exhausted and clinging to you like you were the only solid thing in the world right now. Saying it now would be... unfair.
The realization landed heavy in your stomach - it would be unfair to put that on her now.
Natasha had spent her whole life with people taking advantage of vulnerability. Twisting soft moments into leverage. Making affection transactional.
You knew that.
You knew her.
The last thing you ever wanted was for her to think your comfort came with strings attached. Like she owed you something because she let herself need you tonight.
Your eyes stung suddenly.
God. And what if she panicked?
Not because she did not care about you - you knew she did by now, even if neither of you said it out loud - but because love was different.
Love was permanence.
Love was trust.
Love was something Natasha approached like a wounded animal approached an open hand: cautiously, suspiciously, waiting for the trap.
You could still hear her voice from months ago, quiet and strangely raw after a mission in God knew where left both of you bleeding in a safehouse bathroom.
"I’m not good at this."
You had looked up from where she was bandaging your ribs, eyebrows pulling together.
"Stichting me up? Could have told me before I let you put your hands on me, huh."
"No, just... this," she had muttered with a roll of her eyes, making a gesture with her free hand between the two of you. "All of it."
Relationships, she had meant.
Feelings.
You remembered smiling softly.
"Well, good thing you don’t have to be good at it, then."
Natasha had stared at you for a long moment like that answer genuinely confused her.
Sometimes you thought she was waiting for you to realize she was impossible to love.
The horrifying thing was that loving her was the easiest thing you had ever done.
You looked down at her now, at the red hair spilling across your shoulder. At the tiny crease still lingering between her brows even in sleep. Her plump lips partially parted, puffing air on your shirt.
At the way she unconsciously seeked your warmth even while asleep, fingers twitching against your back every few seconds just to make sure you were still there.
Your entire body ached with affection.
You wanted to say it so badly.
You wanted to whisper it into her hair and hold her until she believed it.
You wanted to tell her she was loved so fiercely and gently and without condition that it even terrified you sometimes.
But fear curled sharp beneath the longing.
Because what if she was not ready?
What if hearing it made her... retreat?
What if it changed this - whatever beautiful fragile thing the two of you had built together for months - into something frightened and uncertain?
Natasha did not do love.
Or at least she thought she did not, or to the very least act like she could not.
You had seen evidence of that belief everywhere: in the way she - most of the time - deflected sincerity with humor, in the way she usually went still when someone cared too openly, in the way she looked almost startled every time you chose her again.
As if she was still waiting for the moment you would not.
You could survive not saying it. You would rather swallow these feelings for another year than risk making her think she owed you an answer tonight, an answer given at three in the morning with tears still trapped behind her eyes would not really be an answer at all. However, you were not sure you could survive watching her pull away from you. Not over something like that. Not over timing. Not over words. So you swallowed the words down hard enough it hurt. And instead tightened your arms around her slightly and pressed another kiss into her red hair. Natasha made a small sound low in her throat. Contentment? Trust?
"You’re okay..." You whispered carefully.
Not I love you.
Even though every inch of you meant it.
"You’re safe. I’ve got you."
Her breathing evened out completely after a few minutes.
Eventually, exhaustion dragged at your own eyes again, but sleep came slowly. You mostly just laid there holding her, listening to the rain and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your chest.
You stayed. That was all. Stayed through the nightmares. Stayed through the sharp edges. Stayed through the parts of her she thought were too damaged to be loved.
You buried your face briefly in her hair, eyes burning.
"I’m here." You whispered.
Always, you almost added. But that was dangerously close to the other thing.
So instead you held her tighter and let the words live silently inside your chest a little longer.
⧗
You smiled against her insistent lips, blindly reaching for the handle of the door that was digging into your back, your other arm lazily draped around her shoulders.
Natasha chuckled into the kiss, breaking away just enough to push the door open with her hip.
She stepped inside first, pulling you along by your shirt collar before reconnecting your lips together the second the door of her quarters was closed behind you.
"Someone's eager." You mumbled between kisses, both arms wrapping fully around her neck now, back arching as you felt her warm hands on your hips.
Natasha bit your lower lip gently, hands sliding under the fabric of your shirt to press her burning palms against the shivering and bare skin of your back.
"Almost like it's been weeks or something." She breathed out, giving you a heated, amused look.
You shook your head, fingertips brushing along the loose curls of her braid. You tilted your face enough to look down at her cat who circled your ankles, purring at the contact. Liho meowed loudly at the lack of acknowledgement from both your parts, rubbing against Natasha's legs next.
The redhead ignored her, too busy nipping at your jaw instead, one of her hands tugging on the loop of your pants to bring you closer to her.
"She might be hungry..." You hummed, tilting your face back to give her more room, eyelids fluttering as you let your feet follow her wherever she was taking you.
Natasha grunted against your skin at your words, ignoring Liho entirely.
"She's always hungry," she muttered before pulling you in another heated kiss, hands gripping your hips as she walked backwards toward the door of her bedroom. "Plus, she already ate. Now's my turn." She smirked as she pulled you inside the room instead, closing the door before the black cat could enter.
"You’re so rude," you chuckled, leaning against the door, your hands feeling up her arms that quickly wrapped around you, refusing to let you go too far. "Slamming the door right into her face like that..."
Natasha scoffed, rolling her eyes as she resumed her kisses along your jaw.
"Trust me you're not gonna want an audience," she said, lips hot on the hollow of your throat. "Know what else's rude?" Natasha asked, teeth grazing your skin, her eyes sparkling as goosebumps followed.
"Mhm, what?" You panted, already feeling yourself worked up, thighs pressed together for a semblance of relief, hands finding purchase at her toned shoulders.
Natasha smirked, pressing a slow kiss to your collarbone before biting down lightly, then soothing it with her tongue.
"You," she whispered against your skin, hands sliding lower. "You got no idea what you've been doing to me all day, huh? I couldn't stop thinking about you. During that meeting too," she grunted, nose nudging the collar of your shirt as far as possible. "Imagine that? Me? Distracted?"
"Well, I didn't do anything." You grinned, fingers slipping into her braid, purposely messing it up as you brought her lips back to yours.
Natasha groaned as you ruined her carefully braided hair - she hated when you did that. But she kissed you back anyway, hands fumbling and pushing fabric off your shoulders in a hurry.
"Liar," she accused between breaths. "You wore those clothes on purpose."
"My clothes? What about them?" You breathed out, helping her out of her own top.
Natasha kicked her shirt to the side, pressing flush against you, skin on skin now.
"That shirt," she said, voice rough as her fingers traced the waistband of your pants. "That clings like that? Your chest looked heavenly. Called my name." Natasha exhaled sharply through her nose before claiming your mouth again with a low whine of frustration as she tried to push your pants as far as she could.
You could not help but let out a shaky moan, kicking your shoes and jeans off to finish the job, fingers curling in her hair.
"I think you're losing your mind if you hear my tits talking to you." You chuckled against her lips, walking her to her bed, mouths still sharing the same oxygen.
Natasha fell onto the bed with you, laughing into your kiss - actually laughing, something rare and light that made your inside flutter so violently your lips parted against hers.
"Oh, your tits definitely talk," she teased back against your mouth before letting her mouth trail lower once you were fully straddling her lap. "They say 'touch me, Natasha' all day. Can hear them through all these walls and layers."
One of her hands slid up to cup your breasts through the thin fabric of your bra, her other one pressing down your lower back to make you arch it.
"You're such a dork." You grunted, hips rolling on her lap, your hand not in her hair working on her bra, letting it pool between you like a final motion. Natasha let out a small laugh, but the sound turned into a breathy moan she tried to immediately swallow as your hips rolled against her lap again.
Her hands immediately reached behind you to take off the last piece of fabric hiding your silky skin from her gaze, eyes sparkling as the sight of your bare chest finally greeting her.
"Well hello, ladies. Missed you too." Natasha smirked, ignoring both the amused and bewildered look you sent her as she leaned down to press a light kiss on your sternum, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts until your back arched against her on its own this time.
You let out a chuckle, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you gripped her toned arm, your fingers still tangled in her head guiding her face lower. Natasha did not need guiding, she was already moving down - her lips trailing fire over your sternum, nipping gently at the soft skin of your chest before her teeth grazed the swell of your breast. Her hands trailed lower, feeling your soft sides and committing it all back to memories.
"Sorry, I might be delirious," she murmured, voice muffled against your skin as she pressed warm kisses over your chest. "Like I said, s'been weeks."
"Yeah..." You breathed out, eyelids heavy as you stared down at her. "...acting like you’ve been through withdrawal or something." You teased, though your chuckle died in your throat as her teeth grazed your sensitive skin in clear retaliation, piercing green irises looking up at you.
Natasha smirked against your skin before finally taking one of your nipples into her mouth, tongue swirling around it, slowly at first, teasingly. She could feel the way you tensed beneath her, how your breath hitched and fingers curled tighter in her hair. She hummed approvingly around the peak before sucking gently. Your hips jerked into her lap involuntarily as a reaction to her ministrations. Your teeth sank into your lower lip, breaths turning heavy as you tried to contain yourself even though her actions along with the faint friction happening between your thighs was making you dizzy with want for more.
Natasha immediately noticed the way you moved against her - subtle, involuntary, but so telling. She quickly switched to your other breast, lavishing it with the same attention while one of her hands slid down your stomach and over your hipbone, tugging down the last fabric clinging to your body.
You let her roll you over and watched as she dragged your panties off your legs, her burning fingertips grazing your skin. You shifted on your elbows, giving her a heated look as you stopped her from laying back with a firm foot on her toned stomach.
The redhead frowned, confusion clouding her gaze for a second.
"Nuh uh, you're wearing far too many clothes." You smirked, licking your suddenly dry lips.
Natasha arched a brow, but the smirk on her lips grew as she understood your demand. Without hesitation, she took a step back. Her buttons popped open in record time as she kicked off the remnants of her clothes. She grabbed your extended leg with one hand, squeezing your calf as she drew closer.
"Better now?" She drawled in a hoarse tone that groped at your belly with a small smile on her face, her lips trailing over the inside of your leg, eyes never leaving your face.
You nodded slowly, your gaze never leaving her mouth as you tried your hardest not to melt too visibly under her ministrations. But it was harder said than done when your whole being filled with anticipation, your breath coming in faster before you could take the reins over it.
Natasha took her sweet time - kissing up your inner thigh, slow and deliberate, letting the warmth of her mouth linger on your skin. She kept going until her nose bumped the apex of your thigh before finally reaching her destination, the first contact making every touch she did before small compared to the way her tongue eagerly seeked you out. Her eyelids fluttered for a second, a small sound escaping her parted lips as your grip in her hair resumed before tightening.
"Fuck-" You gasped, thighs already starting to tremble on either side of her head. "I almost forgot..." You stopped yourself, swallowing hard as her eyes snapped back to yours, her lips wrapping around your clit as she shot you a quick wink. "...how good you were at that." You finished in another gasp, letting the back of your head hit the mattress as you tried to keep the sounds in.
Natasha smirked - actually smirked, you could feel it against your folds - before diving back in with renewed focus. She alternated between slow, teasing licks and firm suction, like she had all the time in the world to relearn you - her tongue swirling expertly while one hand gripped your hip to keep you from bucking too much. The other slid up your stomach to pinch a nipple - multitasking like the terrifyingly efficient woman that she was.
"Inside-" You panted, back slightly arching off the bed while the hand not in her hair gripped the one that she rested on your chest for dear life, eyebrows furrowing as you focused on the pleasure she was making you feel. "Need you inside, Nat."
The redhead, your redhead, did not hesitate or drawled it longer than you thought she would - perhaps she did miss you as much as she claimed to - and slipped two fingers into you without warning, curling them just right on the first try like she knew your body better than her own. You rewarded her with a shaky gasp, unforgiving warmth spreading through you like wildfire.
Her tongue kept working your clit in perfect rhythm with her thrusting fingers, adding pressure exactly where it mattered. The wet sounds were loud in the quiet room, mixing with your gasps and Natasha's soft hums of approval against you as she stared at your body that chased the feeling she was giving you. And suddenly it was too much. Too many feelings. Natasha was all around you, everywhere - outside and inside. Her insistent hands, her heavy gaze fixed on you that you could not see but felt all the same, the scent surrounding the two of you. It was too much and you were right there, with the words ready to claw themselves out your chest and throat to finally slip past your parted lips.
You let go of her hair immediately as a semblance of dangerous clarity reached you, your hand pressing flat against your parted mouth. And what if you stopped yourself from breathing that way? At least the words were going down with you, and you would not blur them out of the blue, in the middle of sex, mind you.
You let out a trembling moan, thighs starting to shake as you bit down the inside of your fingers.
Natasha felt the exact moment you tensed, the way your body coiled like a spring ready to snap. She doubled down with eyebrows furrowed in focus, keeping the pace of her fingers and curling them while her tongue pressed hard against your clit. Your muffled moan only spurred her on, she always loved making you fall apart beneath her. Loved being the reason for that desperate grip on yourself, for those half bitten-off sounds she could practically taste in the air between you two. And then here you were, your thigh jerking up by reflex as your walls spasmed around her fingers, sucking them in.
She pulled back and took a deep, ragged breath, eyes traveling languidly over the faint sheen of sweat over your curves.
You opened your eyes again, face tilted to the side as you lazily reached for her with your hand, pushing the babyhair off her forehead with a faint, delirious smile on your face.
Natasha leaned into your touch, her damp lips curling as she kissed the palm of your hand. Her fingers, still glistening, brushed over your stomach as she crawled up to hover above you, arms caging either side of your head. She pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth first, then finally claimed it properly - slow and deep and so tender compared to what had just happened moments ago.
It made your toes curl.
"I love-" You stopped yourself just in time, gulping down, teeth grazing your lips as you tried to find something else to say. Something else than what you really wanted. Something that you might actually not regret saying. "I love, love when you do that." You finished in a lower tone, heavy eyes searching her face.
Natasha studied you, those green eyes always seeing too much, like she could read the hesitation in your chest, the words that did not make it out.
But she just kissed you again, slower this time, letting you taste the proof of your arousal clinging to her. Her hand came up to cradle your jaw as her thumb stroked your cheekbone gently, affectionate and warm.
"Yeah, I gathered as much." She grinned smugly against your lips.
You chuckled, pushing her away with one firm hand on her sternum before suddenly flipping both of you over, your body pinning her down on the mattress. You tried not to react too visibly as her hands immediately grabbed your hips by pure reflex.
"You know I don't like when you look too smug." You grunted, playfully rolling your pelvis into her lap, one eyebrow raised pointedly.
Natasha blinked up at you, almost surprised for once, her usually controlled expression flickering with something unreadable as your weight settled over her. A slow smirk curled on her lips, her hands traveling lower until she was cupping your buttcheeks.
"Well hello," she breathed out, tilting her chin to press a kiss to your jaw. "Missed those too." She smirked, her hands squeezing the flesh, a small chuckle escaping her as the involuntary movement it caused you to make.
"Oh, shut up." You laughed, your hands cupping her face to pull her into a firm kiss.
Because if there was one thing you were good at, it was distracting you from telling too much. And what could be a better distraction than those plump lips, stealing all possible breath from you until you could not speak anymore.
⧗
It was quiet in the compound.
Not the half-expected, tense, waiting kind of quiet that came after a mission or before one, but something softer, lived-in... And an atmosphere that could only prevail in the late hours of the day, one that only night owls could understand.
Most of the lights were off, the common areas were empty. And you were sitting on one of the couches, half-curled into the corner, a blanket draped over your legs more out of habit than actual need. There was a book open in your lap, but you had not turned the page in... well, a while now.
You were not reading. You had not been for the past twenty minutes. Or maybe even longer. Your gaze kept drifting.
To the doorway. To the window. To the hallway.
You did not know exactly when she got back.
You just knew she did.
You heard the faint echo of a quinjet followed by footsteps earlier. The soft click of a door. The almost imperceptible shift in the atmosphere that always seemed to follow her presence - like something settled into place because she was back in your orbit.
You did not go to her. Not immediately. You had an unspoken agreement whenever one of you would return from solo missions, you would not go looking for the one who had just come back. It was up to her to come find the other if felt the need. Otherwise, you had to give the other time and space - enough to take a shower and put herself together while wiping away all the blood that stained the skin - before either of you could face the world again as an acceptable person.
So, you told yourself you would give her time, like always. Let her decompress. Shower, change, whatever she needed.
Totally normal.
Totally reasonable.
And it definitely did not end up with you pacing your own thoughts into the ground for what had to be the past half hour.
You exhaled slowly, dragging your eyes back down to the book you grabbed again.
You froze in the middle of a mess of words you surely must have tried to read before as soft footsteps echoed in the hallway. They were quiet - of course they were - but you recognize them anyway. Measured and controlled in the way that let you know she was letting you hear her approach.
Your heart picked up instantly.
Which was very stupid. It was just her.
Just Natasha.
The footsteps stopped right behind you.
You did not turn around right away, but you did not even know why. Maybe because if you did, this became real - that aching missing feeling whenever she was not near you. The words that had been sitting in your chest for weeks now, building and building and building until it felt like they were going to spill out whether you wanted it to or not.
"Your book’s upside down."
You blinked, looking down with a frown.
It was.
"...I knew that." You mutter, flipping it to the side quickly.
There was a soft sound behind you, something between a breath and the ghost of a laugh. You finally turned. And there she was. Clean now, changed too, her hair still slightly damp, falling loose around her shoulders. She was dressed in comfortable clothes, like she had already shed the mission and stepped back into something more... normal.
Her eyes were on you before they flicked to the empty mugs sprawled on the small table in front of you, eyebrows raising faintly.
"You’ve been sitting here for a while." She noted.
You shrugged, aiming for casualness to buy yourself more time on your emotions.
"Yeah. It’s a couch. That’s kind of what they’re for."
"Mhm." Natasha did not move closer, did not sit down next to you despite the empty place, she simply stood there, watching you. Like she was trying to figure something out.
You shifted slightly under the weight of it.
"What?"
"You’re weird again." Natasha tilted her head just a fraction.
Your eyebrows shot up.
"What!? Me? I’m not weird. What do you mean?"
"Yeah, you are," she replied simply with a scoff, like it was painfully obvious. "You keep almost saying something for weeks now."
Your stomach dropped, colors draining from your face.
Oh.
Oh, God, no.
You let out a short, awkward laugh, shaking your head.
"I don’t... what are you talking about?"
Natasha did not seem to buy it, not even a little, as she arched an unimpressed eyebrow in your direction.
"I’ve seen you do it," she continued, stepping a little closer now, her voice quieter but more certain. "You can’t lie to me, you know?"
You looked away, suddenly very interested in a nonexistent wrinkle in the blanket.
"I really don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re imagining things."
"I’m not."
"You might be."
"I’m not." She repeated, a little firmer this time.
You huffed a breath, rubbing the back of your book that laid on your side, upside down.
"Okay, even if I were, hypothetically, almost saying something... it’s probably not even important."
Natasha stepped closer, close enough now that you could feel the shift in the air between you as she leaned into your space.
"It is, though." She said, lips twitching.
You shook your head, letting out a chuckle.
"Nat-"
"Come on, just say it." The words landed softly, like a request. But solid with no room to dodge, no room to deflect anymore.
You swallowed hard, your pulse picking up again.
"This is a bad idea." You muttered, mostly to yourself, looking up at her with almost pleading eyes.
"Why?" She frowned.
Because you might ruin everything.
Because she might not say it back.
Because what you have right now is good and safe and enough-
"Because..." You started, before stopping. You held your breath, expecting... something. But Natasha did not move. She did not push. She just waited. And somehow, that was worse.
"You’re not gonna let this go, are you?" You let out a shaky breath, running a hand through your hair in a nervous movement.
"No."
Of course not.
You glanced up at her, she was closer than you realized. Her expression was not guarded, not like it usually would be with... anyone else. Anyone else but you. There was something open there, she let you see it, decipher it like it was yours to. She was curious. Maybe even a little cautious. Like she knew this mattered.
Your chest tightened.
God.
This was it then. This was the moment you had been avoiding for weeks.
You were sure you could still back out. Say something else, make a joke, deflect, kiss her until you were both too distracted to remember the discussion at hand. You had done it before. You could do it again.
But you looked at her now.
At the way she was standing there, waiting. At the way she was clearly not letting it go this time. At the way she came to you without any mask on.
The faint dampness still lingering in her hair, the patience in her eyes, the way she had not pushed you once - just waited, as if she trusted you to get there eventually.
And God.
Maybe that was what finally did it, because something in your chest just settled.
You exhaled slowly. Because the truth was the truth. The truth was painful to hold in. The truth was choking you alive. Perhaps it was killing you more to keep it in than scream it at her. Because the truth was the truth and it was inevitable - even though you tried to run away from it. It would always come back to here and now, it would always come back to her.
"I love you." The words left your mouth in an exhale before you could stop them, like they almost did too many times to count before.
You froze immediately as your brain caught up, your heart slamming hard against your ribs, every instinct screaming at you to take it back, to say something else. Anything.
But Natasha just... looked at you.
And for a split second, panic spiked, until a faint breath escaped her.
"Oh."
You blinked, your entire body went tense. The sound was not disappointed, it did not sound uncertain either. If anything, it sounded fond. Almost helpless.
And you were fucking lost.
"Oh?" You echoed, suddenly very aware of how exposed you were right now despite the blanket covering your clothes. "That’s-well, okay. Cool. Good. Great response. I-I actually really love that for me," you started to ramble, because of course you were - already half-turning away like maybe you could just physically remove yourself from the situation. "I mean, not that you have to say anything back, because you don’t. I just, well, clearly picked a great time to-"
"No, no, I just... was expecting something else," Natasha replied, lips twitching. "I mean, I already knew that."
You stopped before fully turning back now, elbows planted on the back of the couch as you caught up with her words.
"...What?"
Natasha smirked, something softer in her eyes now.
"I know." She repeated, like she knew you needed to hear the words again.
"You know, what? You knew? Since when?"
"A while." She shrugged slightly, pinching her lips together to hold the laugh in.
"A while?" You repeated, incredulous. "Natasha, I’ve been internally losing my fucking mind over this for weeks, actual weeks-"
"Yeah, I noticed." She scoffed, reaching for one of your hands.
"-and you just knew!?"
"Well, yes. I knew you loved me."
You stared at her.
Because that was... That was so unbelievably her.
"Oh my God, you are actually unbelievable." You muttered, dragging your free hand down your face.
There was a faint flicker of amusement at the corner of her mouth as she stepped closer, fingers brushing hair away from your eyes so she could look into them.
"I love you too, by the way," she shrugged, lips twitching into a smirk. "In case you didn’t know."
You stared up at her, breath half caught in your throat. She loved you.
Of course she did.
The evidence had been everywhere.
You had just been too terrified to trust it.
"...You do?" You asked, because apparently your brain had fully stopped functioning as needed to hear things more than one time.
Natasha raised an eyebrow.
"I just said that, didn’t I?"
"Yeah, I know, I just-" You let out a short, breathless laugh, shaking your head. "You could’ve, I don’t know, mentioned that before I spent months spiraling over it."
She tilted her head slightly, narrowing her eyes.
"Well, you could’ve said it sooner.”
You stared at her, lips parted.
"...You’re really turning this around on me right now?"
"Mhm hm."
You huffed out another laugh, softer this time, something in your chest finally loosening after weeks of tension as she leaned in enough to press her smile against yours.
Reader asks Wanda to turn them into an Eevee hybrid because it would help them feel more comfy in their body.
you where lying in your room on your stomach feeling empty inside, you never really felt like your body was yours, like it was missing something, the thing was you where a big fan of Pokémon, and your favorite was always Eevee, but recently you felt less like its your favorite and more like you actually want to be one.
you make your way to Wanda's room, feeling nervous, you didnt know how she was going to react to this, but it was bugging you to much and you had to ask her.
you make your way do the door and crack it open slightly "um Wanda?" your voice was quiet and shy.
Wanda noticed the shyness in your voice and immediately took on a very nurturing tone "Hey Sweetheart, what's wrong?" She sat up on her bed and patted the space next to her "come here and tell me"
you walk in and take a deep breath, as you sit down next her her on her soft bed. "so..you know how im a fan of Pokémon right?"
Wanda smiled and nodded "oh yes, your quite the fan aren't you? your favorite is called Eevee correct? the cute little brown fox?"
"yeah..yeah i really like Eevee, in fact" you look down at you feet, it just felt so silly asking an all powerful witch to turn you into a Pokémon, "I was actually thinking, i really like Eevee a lot, and well i was just thinking if you could...make me look like one?" your face went red from embarrassment "like not completely like one, maybe just... the ears and like the tail?" you slowly look up at her expecting some soft of harsh judgment form the ridiculous ask. but instead....she smiled at you, she let out a little chuckle, not of cruelty but of fondness "aww, you wanna be a little Eevee huh, well i think that's adorable~" she cooed, lifting your chin up to meet her gaze, it was warm and understanding "very fitting for a cute thing like you~"
You blush again, a deeper color this time "really? so you'll do it?" your voice was a little bit in disbelief.
"of course baby! you know I will always do whatever it takes to make you happy, and if having cute ears and a tail makes you happy, well than I can do just that." She pat your head lightly "now do you want this now? or do you want to give it more thought?"
Your breath hitched, you weren't expecting this to actually happen, you nod meekly.
"I wont do it unless you use your words little one" her voice was firm but not harsh.
finally with a deep breath you looked up at her "yes please, i want it now" your voice came out choked and squeaky, even tough you truly meant it.
Wanda nodded "good job..see? admitting that wasn't so hard was it?" Then, her hands came towards you, a faint glow coming from her fingers, "ready? this wont hurt" and with a tight touch to your head, your transformation began, you close your eyes tightly not sure what would happen, but with in seconds you could feel long brown ears grow from your head and a fluffy tail spring from your lower back.
Then you slowly open you eyes, you look to your side and see a tail, you bring your hand up to your head and sure enough, you can feel two Eevee ears "whoa...it actually worked?" you say in disbelief.
Wanda smiles brightly at you and nods, "Yes darling! And you look adorable like this~ what a cute little Eevee~" her voice was so sweet, it made you melt, and you didnt even notice your tail was wagging, but Wanda defiantly did "oh what's this? someone likes when i complement them?" she had that cunning gleam in her eyes, and noticed how you began to shy away, her eyes softened, "shh, dont be shy~ i think its cute." Wanda patted her lap "come here~" she said.
you slowly came to her lap and sat down, resting your head on her chest.
"There we go..such a good Eevee~" Wanda spoke very softly as one would to a injured animal. She scratched the spot between your ears gently and watched as you purred in delight she smiled at your adorable reaction. "you know~ i really dont mind having you like this~ in fact i think it really suits you" she spoke in to your fluffy Eevee ear "I think ill keep you like this a little longer, if you'd like that of course"
You nodded almost immediately "yes please Wanda i really like it" your voice was whiny.
Wanda chuckled "I know you do baby, I know" she kissed your head, "you can rest here for as long as you want my little Eevee" she murmured quietly and stroked your hair until you fell asleep curled up right against her.
You had been rehearsing for hours, though you’d lost track of time. Your body ached, muscles burning from endless movement, but stopping wasn’t an option. You refused to rest until every step was flawless. Ballet was no longer just a passion—it was something you had to master. Perfection was the goal. It had to be. Without it, you would never be Mrs. Maximoff’s favorite.
You lived for her approval, for the way her praises wrapped around you like the softest silk, sending a thrill through your very core. And for a time, everything was perfect. You were her shining star—until she appeared. That America girl. The way she carried herself, the way Mrs. Maximoff’s gaze shifted to her... it made your blood boil. Who did she think she was? Acting as if she belonged, as if she was better? You despised her, despite her attempts to befriend you.
So here you were, pushing yourself past your limits, practicing obsessively for hours on end, barely pausing for breath. Your chest ached, your legs trembled, but you refused to stop. You couldn’t. Not until you were perfect. But the dizziness crept in, your vision blurred, and a wave of nausea twisted in your stomach. You had forgotten to eat, too consumed by the need to improve.
Your knees buckled. You hit the cold studio floor, clutching your stomach, gasping for air like a wounded animal. Frustration burned in your eyes as you struggled to rise, determined to keep going—until a familiar voice stopped you.
"Detka… for the love of God, are you trying to kill yourself?"
Mrs. Maximoff stood before you, radiant as ever. You tried to move, to reach for her, but the exhaustion was too much. Darkness took over, and you collapsed at her feet.
---
"What? No. You can't do this to me, Mrs. Maximoff!" Your voice trembled, desperation dripping from every word. "I can do the dance perfectly. I'm fine. You... you can't just give my role to her."
Wanda sighed, her expression unreadable. "You gave me no choice, detka," she said, her voice softer than you wanted it to be. "Look at yourself. You haven't eaten in days, and you collapsed from overexertion. I can't allow this to continue. I'm sorry, but America is getting the role."
Your gaze snapped to America, a darkness creeping into your eyes—one that hadn't been there before. Your breath was ragged, your fingers twitching at your sides. A slow, unsettling smile twisted your lips as you whispered, "You're gonna regret this, you little cunt."
The studio fell into stunned silence. You had never spoken like that before. You were always so sweet, so obedient, never once daring to talk back. But now? Now, you barely recognized yourself.
Without another word, you grabbed your things and stormed out of the studio, your mind racing with a singular, all-consuming thought.
America Chavez had to disappear.
She had to die.
You would play the lead in Black Swan. And when it was over, Mrs. Maximoff would love you again. She would adore you, praise you, worship you.
You would be her favorite little ballerina again.
---
She was laughing. Enjoying your role, basking in your spotlight. Foolish girl.
"You can laugh all you want," you murmured to yourself, watching from the shadows. "You'll be dead soon anyway."
The studio had emptied out, or so they thought. Everyone had left, including you—at least, that’s what they believed. But America stayed behind, still rehearsing, still moving so gracefully in a role that should have been yours.
"I think you’re enjoying this role a little too much, America," you said, stepping out of the darkness.
She spun around, startled. "I... look, I’m sor—"
"Save your apologies." Your voice was cold, void of any warmth. "I don’t give a single fuck. They mean nothing to me. You mean nothing to me." You stepped closer, slow and deliberate, like a predator cornering its prey.
"You," you hissed, eyes burning with fury. "You take everything from me. And I don’t like that."
Her back hit the glass of the studio’s massive window. She had nowhere to run.
"You are nothing," you whispered, tilting your head. "Do you understand me? And you will be nothing. I'll make sure of it."
Your fingers curled into her hair. A sharp tug. A sickening crack as her skull met the cold glass. Again. And again. And again.
Until she stopped moving.
Until the studio was silent.
You took a deep breath, smoothing your clothes, wiping the specks of crimson from your skin. Then, without a second glance, you walked out—calm, composed. Slipping through the back door, disappearing into the night.
No one saw you.
No one would ever know.
---
"I'm sad to announce that your fellow colleague, America, was murdered last night."
Wanda's voice wavered, breaking the heavy silence in the studio. Gasps and murmurs spread like wildfire among the dancers, fear creeping into their expressions. But you? You remained still. Silent. Unmoved.
And then your eyes met hers.
For a fleeting moment, everything else faded away. Wanda knew. The truth settled in her chest like a heavy weight, her breath hitching ever so slightly. She saw it in your stare—so hollow, so eerily calm. No sorrow. No shock. Just... emptiness.
Foolish girl... what have you done?
Wanda swallowed, forcing herself to look away. "Because of this terrible tragedy," she continued, her voice regaining its strength, "the upcoming show will be canceled until this horrific matter is resolved and the killer is caught."
The room filled with whispers of disappointment and fear, but you didn’t care.
The lead role was yours now.
---
"You foolish girl," Wanda hissed, her voice low and sharp as a blade. The studio was empty now—just you and her. The tension between you was suffocating. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?"
You tilted your head, a slow, eerie smile tugging at your lips. "Of course I do."
Her jaw tightened. "You killed her."
"I eliminated the problem," you corrected, stepping closer. "She took what was mine. And now? Now it's mine again."
Wanda let out a shaky breath, her hands curling into fists. "You don't understand what you've done," she muttered, more to herself than to you.
"I did what you wanted," you whispered, voice dripping with something sickly sweet. "Don't pretend you didn’t enjoy it—the way I fought for you, the way I proved myself to you." You reached for her, but she stepped back, eyes flashing with something unreadable.
"You think this was for me?" Wanda scoffed, shaking her head. "You're insane."
Your smile widened. "And yet… here you are. Alone with me."
Silence stretched between you, thick and charged. Wanda’s breath was uneven, her gaze locked onto yours like she was staring at something dangerous—something she should run from.
But she didn’t run.
Instead, she whispered, "What am I going to do with you?"
You stepped closer, your breath ghosting over her skin.
"You will love me like before," you murmured, your voice steady, unwavering.
Wanda inhaled sharply, her eyes searching yours, looking for something—remorse, hesitation, anything. But all she found was certainty. Devotion. A terrifying, all-consuming obsession.
Her lips parted as if to argue, to scold, but no words came. Because, deep down, she knew the truth. This wasn’t just about America. It was never about the role.
It was about her.
"You don’t understand," she whispered, her voice softer now, almost… sad. "This isn’t love, detka. This is madness."
You tilted your head, an unsettling smile creeping onto your lips. "Then let me be mad for you."
Wanda swallowed hard, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She should turn away, should call the authorities, should do something. But she didn’t move. Because despite the horror of it all…
Some twisted part of her liked having you.
Your lips met hers. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was desperate, feverish—like a spark igniting a fire that had been waiting to burn. Wanda didn’t pull away. She *should* have. Every fiber of her being screamed that this was wrong, that you were dangerous, that this had gone too far.
But she didn’t stop you.
Her hands found your waist, nails digging in ever so slightly, as if grounding herself in the reality of what was happening. Your fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss, pouring all of your obsession, your desperation, your devotion into it.
When she finally pulled back, her breathing was uneven, her pupils blown wide. "This isn’t right," she whispered, though her grip on you hadn’t loosened.
You smiled, tilting your head. "Then why didn’t you stop me?"
Wanda didn’t have an answer. Because she liked it.
And that scared her more than anything else.
Her lips crashed against yours again, this time with even more urgency. There was no hesitation now, no resistance—just heat, just want. Her fingers dug into your skin as if trying to anchor herself, to make sense of the madness between you.
You let out a breathless laugh against her lips, savoring the way she melted into you. "See?" you whispered between kisses. "You do love me."
Wanda’s grip tightened, her nails biting into your skin. "This isn’t love," she muttered, but the way her mouth moved against yours betrayed her words.
You pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, eyes dark with something unreadable. "Then why are you still kissing me?"
She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.
Because instead of pushing you away, she pulled you closer—giving in, just like you knew she would.
Her lips trailed down your neck, slow and deliberate, as if savoring every inch of you. Each kiss sent a shiver through your body, every touch igniting something deep, something primal. You could barely breathe. She was in control now, and she knew it.
She remembered.
She remembered the way you used to look at her with those wide, adoring eyes, the way you hung onto her every word, the way you would do anything, just to please her. You were hers before, and despite everything—despite the obsession, despite the madness—you were still hers now.
Her teeth grazed your skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of her mouth, and you gasped, your hands gripping onto her desperately. She chuckled, low and dark, pressing her body closer, letting you feel just how much control she had over you.
"You wanted this, didn’t you?" she murmured against your throat, her voice intoxicating, dripping with something dangerous.
You whimpered, nodding, completely at her mercy.
"All this time," she mused, her fingers trailing down your sides, making you shudder. "All this effort, all this obsession… just to have me?"
You swallowed hard, your breath uneven. "I—I only wanted to be yours again."
She pulled back slightly, just enough for her piercing gaze to meet yours. Her expression was unreadable, a mix of amusement and something deeper, something you couldn’t quite name.
"You never stopped being mine," she whispered, her thumb brushing over your lips, tracing them slowly. "But now? Now, I want to hear you say it."
You trembled beneath her touch, your pulse racing. "I'm yours."
Wanda smirked, tilting your chin up with two fingers. "That’s right, detka, she purred, pressing her lips to yours once more, this time with a hunger that made your knees weak.
"You belong to me."
Wanda's hands slid down to your waist, gripping the fabric of your leotard, the material thin and clinging to your curves. She tugged at it impatiently, a low growl rumbling in her throat as she tried to remove the pesky garment. The sound sent a jolt straight to your core, a delicious shiver running down your spine.
You arched into her touch, desperation rising as you ached to feel her skin against yours. Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of her blouse, popping them open one by one until you could slip your hands inside, caressing the soft, warm skin of her back. You could feel the strength in her muscles, the power coiled beneath the surface.
Wanda shrugged off the blouse completely, letting it fall to the studio floor, a forgotten scrap of expensive fabric. She wore a black lace bra underneath, the delicate material a stark contrast to the fierce, almost feral look in her eyes.
Maintaining eye contact, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, tossing it aside. Your breath caught in your throat as her breasts were revealed, full and perfect, the rosy peaks hard and begging to be touched. You leaned down, taking one nipple into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive bud before suckling greedily.
Wanda gasped, her fingers tangling in your hair, holding you close as you lavished attention on her breasts. Her scent filled your nostrils, the combination of her perfume and the musky essence of arousal making your head spin with desire.
You could feel her hands sliding lower, pushing your leotard down over the curve of your ass, exposing more and more of your skin to her hungry gaze. The cool air of the studio kissed your heated flesh, making goosebumps erupt all over your body.
Suddenly, she spun you around, pushing you down onto the polished wooden floor. Your leotard was tugged off completely, leaving you bare and exposed beneath her intense scrutiny. The cool floorboards pressed against your back as you lay there, heart pounding, waiting for her next move.
Wanda stood over you, taking in every inch of your naked body, a wicked smile playing across her lips. She looked like a queen surveying her kingdom, a goddess admiring her chosen sacrifice.
She knelt down, straddling your hips, the heat of her core searing your skin. Slowly, Wanda leaned down, her hair falling around you like a curtain, cocooning you both in a world of your own. Her lips trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, between the valley of your breasts. She paused to flick her tongue over a nipple, teasing the hardened peak before drawing it into her mouth to suckle greedily.
You arched beneath her, a strangled cry escaping your lips as pleasure exploded through you. Your fingers dug into her shoulders, nails raking down her back as you held her close, never wanting to let go.
Wanda continued her path downwards, her kisses hot and open-mouthed, each one leaving a trail of fire in its wake. She paused at your navel, her tongue dipping inside, swirling around the sensitive skin before trailing lower still.
Her breath ghosted over your folds as she settled between your thighs, the heat of her mouth hovering just above your aching center. Your hips lifted slightly, a silent plea for more, for her touch, for her possession.
She didn't make you wait long. Her tongue parted your lips, delving deep into your soaked flesh, lapping at your essence like a woman starved. You cried out, the sound echoing through the empty studio as your hands fisted in her hair, holding her against you as she devoured you.
Wanda's hands slid under your ass, gripping the globes, kneading the firm muscle as she feasted on your sex. Her tongue circled your clit, teasing the sensitive bud before suckling it into her mouth, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through you.
You could feel your release building, your muscles tensing, your body coiling tighter and tighter like a bowstring ready to snap. Wanda seemed to sense it too, doubling her efforts, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
Just as you teetered on the brink, Wanda pulled back, releasing your sex from her mouth. Before you could protest, before you could beg her to continue, she surged upwards, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss.
You could taste yourself on her lips, the tangy sweetness of your arousal mixing with the lingering flavor of her lipstick. It was intoxicating, addictive, and you found yourself kissing her back with a fervor that bordered on desperation.
As you kissed, Wanda reached between your bodies, her fingers finding your slick folds. Her fingers slid easily through your soaked folds, your arousal coating her digits, making them glisten in the dim light of the studio. She teased your entrance, circling the rim, dipping just barely inside before pulling back out, denying you the deep penetration you craved.
You whimpered into her mouth, your hips rolling, trying to follow her retreating fingers, seeking more of that delicious friction. Wanda swallowed your whimpers, her tongue dancing with yours, the kiss growing more urgent, more demanding.
Suddenly, she thrust two fingers deep inside you, filling you in one smooth stroke. You broke the kiss with a sharp cry, your head falling back against the floor as your inner walls clenched around the sudden intrusion. Wanda began to move, her fingers pumping in and out of your dripping channel, setting a hard, fast pace.
Her thumb found your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight circles, sending bolts of electricity zinging up your spine. Your body undulated beneath her, hips lifting to meet each thrust, chasing each spark of pleasure.
Wanda's mouth trailed down your neck, biting and sucking at the delicate skin, marking you as hers. Her other hand reached up to palm your breast, kneading the soft mound, rolling your nipple between her fingers until it was a stiff, aching peak.
You could feel your climax building rapidly, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps, your chest heaving as you raced towards the edge of ecstasy.
Sensing your impending release, Wanda increased her efforts, pounding into you with a fervor that bordered on punishing. Her thumb pressed hard against your clit, rubbing the swollen bud with quick, rough circles.
"Come for me," she growled against your skin, her voice gravelly with desire.
Her words, rough and demanding, pushed you over the precipice. Your climax crashed through you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing, back arching as pleasure exploded behind your eyelids.
You screamed your release, the sound echoing off the studio walls as your sex clenched and spasmed around Wanda's pistoning fingers. Wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you, your body shaking, your skin flushed and damp with sweat.
Wanda gentled her movements as your climax crested and began to subside, her fingers slowing their pace, now stroking your fluttering walls with a tenderness that made your heart ache. She guided you through the aftershocks, her touch a soothing balm as your body twitched and shuddered.
As the last waves of pleasure ebbed away, Wanda slowly withdrew her fingers from your still-twitching sex. She brought them to her mouth, making a show of licking your essence from the digits, her tongue swirling around each one, savoring your flavor.
"So sweet," she purred, a wicked grin tugging at her lips as she looked at you. But inside, Wanda felt a knot twist in her stomach. The reality of the situation hit her—the confusion, the thrill, and now the weight of it all. She had just crossed a line with you, her student, who had shown a side of herself that Wanda could no longer ignore.
You were a killer. The way you had done what you needed to do to take what you wanted—it wasn’t something she could just brush aside.
The mixture of power and fear in her heart was unsettling. Wanda couldn’t quite reconcile what she had just experienced with the person standing in front of her. You had her in a way no one ever had, and it made her question everything—herself, her choices, and what came next.
But there was something undeniable about the pull between you. Something darker, more complex. And as much as she hated to admit it, part of her was drawn to it.
She fit in perfectly, like the missing piece of the puzzle, into my class. She was a new student and everyone wanted to be her friend, even me.
She sat at the middle of the class where I could see her while I was at the back with one of the last seats... last names.
"Everyone! As you may have noticed, we have a new student. Y/n, would you like to give an introduction about yourself?" Everyone looked at her and she didn't seem to mind.
Y/n.
She gave a smile and stood up at the middle of the class. "Good morning everyone! I'm y/n y/l/n. I'm 16 years old and I've just moved from New York and.. I don't know much about Ohio so if any of you would help me out, I'd deeply appreciate that" she laughed
"I enjoy baking, stake boarding, and ballet. And I adore 007 films.. I guess that's all" She smiled at the teacher who looked pleased before going back to her seat where people were already whispering to her.
She adored 007 films. My favorite.
".. Alright everyone, please get ready for your first class, have a good day!" The teacher said and left us to wait for our teacher. Thankfully this wasn't the school where you had to walk to different classrooms.
"Nat.. psst!" Carol whispered as she walked to my seat. Her seat was beside y/n's. Because of my best friend's loudness, y/n turned to me and smiled before turning back to the person she was talking to."Yes?"
"I want to be friends with Y/n. We should invite her to the group or that party you have on friday" She said excitingly "Alright, you do it" "Why me?!" I rolled my eyes "Because you suggested the idea, genius"
"Can't we get Jane to do it? She's nice and no one would ever turn down her offers"She muttered.
I sighed and walked toward Jane's seat. Carol followed and we sat around Jane.
While Carol was convincing Jane, I looked over to Y/n.
I met her gaze and she smiled sweetly at me. I admired how beautiful she was. She definitely looked like a ballerina, she had perfect features. "Hi" she said loud enough for me to hear when I didn't say anything after the smile.
"Hello" now carol and jane had turned to us. Carol kicked my leg, this b- "Um.. I hope you don't mind but could I eat with you guys today? I don't really know much people" she laughed, moving closer to us.. the seat beside me.
"No. I mean- No we- We don't mind- we would love that." I rambled and she laughed and nodded. "Good to know, Natasha"
"How'd you know my name" I choked "Name tag" she pointed with a small smile
at that moment i wanted to sink into the floor
But i was brought back to the way my name slipped effortlessly out of her mouth made me almost choke on air but the teacher came and I walked back to my seat. Almost.
I didn't pay attention to class at all, I knew all this anyways. I fixated my attention on the y/h/c in front. I watched as she would write down everything the teacher was saying without looking with her black pen.
"Miss.. Romanoff, would you be so kind to tell us what is the answer to this question?" I turned to the board and solved it in my head quickly "twenty thousand meters" I answered
"Correct. Though next time please don't act as if the answer is sitting on top of Miss Y/l/n's head"
That, was another moment I wanted to die and sink into my chair. I closed my eyes for a second and when I looked at y/n, she was already looking at me with a smile, a reassuring one.
God so help me today.
After our 2nd period we had a recess break. And as I was putting away the notebook I had used for our project, Y/n was there. I stood up and grabbed my jug. "Ready?" She asked and I nodded, making our way to the hall. "Nat!" Carol caught up to us "Yes?" I looked over my shoulder, going down the stairs "Were you ditching us to spend time with your new friend?!" Jane scolded me beside Carol.
"I-" I looked at Y/n who held in a laugh "You know where our spot is. And you know how crowded the hallways get" I reasoned but really I didn't want Carol teasing me with some shit.
"You guys have a spot?" Y/n asks and I nod. She's about to go through the cafeteria doors when I held her wrist and directed her to the field where some other students were. I blush at the contact and let go.
I can feel her looking at me but I bring out the blanket we always use and lay it across the grass.
It wasn't hot today nor was it too dark.
"So y/n, do you have a boyfriend?" I gulped my water while Carol was interrogating this poor girl. "Not my type" she bit some healthy granola bar.
"So you're gay?" Carol asks making y/n crack a laugh "Figuring that out" She laughs and opens her bag for her water jug "You do ballet!! Is that why you're eating that fit bar? I used to eat those too" Jane asks and y/n looks at the bar.
"Yes. And I mean it's not that bad but I do miss sweets.." "Natasha used to do ballet" Carol says making me look up "Really?" Y/n smiled, she's a very smiley person. "Well- erm.. not anymore but yes" "Good to know. Maybe one day I'll convince you to dance with me " she drinks her water and I hum. She could ask me once and I would probably say yes.
"Y/n why'd you move..?" Carol asks and lays on her side.
"My mom got transferred here" and that question game Carol had went on the whole break. I did figure out she had an older sister, a pet cat and other stuff.
For lunch y/n was called to the guidance counselor for some papers about moving. "Natty's got a lil crush" Carol teased and I threw the blanket at her before setting it up.
"No I dont" I huffed "You have lovey eyes for y/n" carol giggles. "Shut up" "Atleast try to hide it, Nat. Erm-um- i-um- i love you" she 'mimics' me
"Hey jane you know that one time carol's cat scratched her eye and she claimed she fell off some flight of stairs?" Carol gasped and jane laughed.
"Hey jane, you know that one fieldtrip Nat was acting weird? Natasha shit her pants" Jane laughed louder
"I was 4!" I glared at her "Awe I'm sorry! When I was 4 I got out of diapers" "Cierra tu boca puta" I muttered "What?" "Nothing"
"Seriously though, whats up with you and y/n" "what do you mean whats up? I met her 3 hours ago" carol just shrugged
When we got back to the classroom y/n was the only one there since it was early. She was writing stuff on papers. "Y/n!" Carol said excitedly as if she hadn't seen her 20 minutes ago. "Hey Carol! How was lunch?" She put the cap back on her pen. I continued fixing my stuff.
"It was alright I guess. Also, Nat is having a party on friday.. you coming?" I quickly looked at Y/n.
"Sure! Can I have your number?" She turned around to me with her arm slung over the chair.
She doesn't want it in that way Natasha.
"Yeah.. can I borrow this?" I walked towards her and held up her pen and paper. She nodded and I wrote my number down. "Thanks!" I saw her write my name neatly with a heart beside it and I told myself I was delusional for thinking it meant something.
Students started to come in and I just went back to my seat, still looking at Y/n. Probably that's what happened the whole day.
"Hey Natasha!" Y/n caught up to me before I made it down the stairs, ready to go to the other building to pick up Yelena. "Yes?" I stopped by the side of the stairs.
"I just wanted to say thank you for today. I was really nervous for my first day and.. well I'm glad we're friends.. Actually I haven't asked you that- Sorry.. Do you want to be friends" She rambled and I nodded quickly. I can work with friends.
"I'd love to be your friend" I match smile "Okay well I'll see you tomorrow!" "See you!" And then she's gone.
Pull yourself together Natasha.
tuesday
"Morning, Natasha!" I furrowed my eyebrows when everyone was in different seats... Y/n was next to mine. "Oh- right. Our teacher changed the seating arrangement. They said the alphabetical one was just temporary. Your seat is still the same though" I dropped my bag to the floor and hummed. How am I supposed to do this. It also didn't help with the fact the tables were now by twos.
So I was beside beside her.
"That's nice, seatmate" I smile
The first period was actual hell. I couldn't help myself and I would turn to look at y/n often and she saw me atleast twice. Of course after the first time I just had to do it again. I missed her old seat.
"You don't take much notes do you?" Y/n glanced at my notebook full with random doodles during our 10 minute break interval.
"No" I shake my head and lay my head on the table. Clearly 3 hours of sleep wasnt enough for me.
"Draw me" She said when my random sketch page was open. It wasn't in a demanding way, more in a way her voice went a little higher as she offered. "What?" "If you want to" She shrugged.
I grabbed my pencil and looked at her hesitantly. She turned her chair fully over to mine. "You sure" She nodded and smiled.
I only got to drawing the outline and her eyes before our teacher came in. "There's always later" she said with a smile before our class started. Later
We did that for the rest of the day, me memorizing her features while trying my best to put them in paper. During our recess and lunch we stayed together at the stairs outside the library, without Carol and Jane.
"I think it's done" I say nervously and she sits beside me very close. "I love it.. you even drew my scar correctly!" She smiled at it with awe. Below her chin she had a very faint scar. She told me she fell down the stairs and it left a scar. Then the bell rang, of course it had to be cut short "Thank you" "Thank you.. anyways we should go" She stood up and dusted her uniform before holding her hand out to me.
Did she want me to hold it? I mean.. no shit Natasha.
I took her hand and we raced through students to make it back in time. We were a giggling mess by the time we made it back in our seats, Carol doing wiggly brows at me.
friday
The week had been better than any other. On Wednesday, Carol and Jane announced to us they were busy with a group work so we had to eat alone. Bullshit. Not that I minded though.
Now me and y/n would eat alone. I even heard someone explain we were now the friendship duo. Friendship, hm.
"I'll see you tonight at your party, Tasha. See you!" She left before I could reply. Aside from Nat, I hated nicknames, but the way she said it.. I never complained.
Usually, I wouldn't give two shits about what I was wearing. the teenage men would ogle me and i'd say no, maybe a few girls, but now... I was trying to impress someone, even if it was a subconscious doing.
nat😜💪
Im ready.
Wru?
carol
on the way!! Soooo whatcha wearing for y/n😊
nat😊💪
for y/n?!? what are you on
carol
Atleast I’m self aware
nat😊💪
goodbye
I peeked out the window and saw y/n get dropped by a gorgeous other woman and my heart sunk. What if she had a girlfriend?! She wouldn't even like me, what was I thinking?
i made my way through my crowded house and opened myself a can of coke. “nat! hey” y/n exclaimedn, walking over to me “hi” i smiled and walked off as she frowned
it went on like that for 2 hours, me being petty basically. that was until she walked over and leaned to talk near my ear over the loud music.
“nat im going soon, wanna go walk around for a bit?” I stood up and followed her out the door.
it was silent, walking through houses until y/n sighed.
"God Nat I thought you liked me" Y/n said so calmly kicking a rock. I almost got whiplash when I turned to her "What?!" "Nat, I heard you get teased by Carol the whole week." "So..?" What do I even say?!?
She huffed. "Natasha on my first day of school, around 10 people were asking me out and asking me to eat lunch with them, and i don't mean that in a bragging way, but i wanted to eat with you. I didn't just ask for your number for the party, i wanted to talk to you outside of school, the seating placement was we got to pick our places and I chose to be beside you, I spent 40 minutes sitting still because I was looking at you and spending time with you. and i hate parties! I only went because of you. Now you're telling me you're going to go on a date with that girl who is a bitch to everyone???" She stopped walking to look at me
“You had your girlfriend drop you off tonight hm?” She scrunched her face up “Ew, ew, ew! That’s my sister! Is that what this was all about?!?” My eyes widened “oh” “yeah.. oh” she sighed
“i feel like an idiot, im so sorry” i looked at her “well.. maybe you could be my idiot” she murmured against my lips and i leaned in to close the space.
warnings: 18+, stripper!reader (23), rich business lady! wanda (32), dirty talk, yearning, lap dance, mommy kink, slight smut. minors, DNI
words: 1.7k
a/n: hellloooo and welcome to a much needed update to one of my favourites! It’s been a long while since I’ve written on here, but enjoy, there will be more to come :). - xo saph.
“oh my..” you gasped out, your hands gripping the silk material of wanda’s sheets that lay a mess on her bed.
“so… how long have you worked here for?” a customer asks in front of you, one you had forgotten the name of, and as the night before plays in your mind in broken pieces, you force yourself to pay attention.
“a while.” you stare down at the glass in your hand and take a sip of the rum and coke. “it’s always smart to stay at a place that looks after you, you know?”
“i couldn’t agree more,” the customer replied with a smile. “i’ve been with my firm for ten years.”
your hands thread through thick auburn hair, your gaze stuck to the woman as her tongue, which she had flattened out, lapped at your clit, and as she shifted to leave open-mouth kisses against the bundle of nerves that throbbed against her touch, you moan and continue to watch the way wanda’s mouth shines from your wetness.
your left leg begins to bounce gently, and you close your eyes briefly. you needed something stronger than conversation to cloud over the distracting memory. “care to tell me about it in a dance?” you ask with a smile, and when the man’s eyes dropped down to your chest, which was clad in your usual red attire, you knew you had him hooked.
“lead the way.” he replies with a grin.
ᗢ
as you sighed in a chair you now resided in, you leaned back in it, looking up at the dimly lit chandelier hanging above you.
It was now the quiet period before another busy one came, and although you wouldn’t be around to witness it, you relished in the peaceful atmosphere anyway. a majority of the customers had begun to filter out of ‘house of harkness’, and as you lowered your head, you pulled your phone out from the clutch upon your lap, and looked down at it.
it illuminated the time eight-fifty pm, and when you unlocked it, you decided to scroll absentmindedly on twitter whilst you finished off the drink that had been bought for you.
“i had an amazing time with you, y/n.”
the words echoed in your mind, and you smiled like an idiot. wanda’s voice; so sickly sweet and husky. god, you were impatient, and you wish you could hear it now, have her in front of you, her laughing at one of your jokes, or you admiring her suit-clad body.
as you continued to look down, your phone blurred in your hand as you ruminated on your afternoon.
“i had an amazing time, too,” you replied, the seat beginning to vibrate under you from the rumbling of the car's exhaust as wanda started it up. “and thank you for taking me home.”
“oh, nonsense, pretty girl. i will happily do this again for you.”
“yeah?” you asked with an excited smirk you couldn’t quite hide. she wanted to see you again. god, the exhilaration was almost too much to bear. “i would really like that. but only because of that house of yours.”
“naturally,” wanda laughs, her eyes focused on the road that now looks different to you, compared to the previous night drive to her huge abode. the sunny day now illuminated the stunning greenery on either side of the road. “i come with more perks, though. i can be quite the cook sometimes.” she adds.
“talented in bed, talented in the kitchen… what else are you good at?”
the redhead shoots a glance at you. “how about i tell you more tonight? over dinner.”
“that sounds lovely,” you respond, your stomach doing a flip at the thought of being wined and dined by wanda. “although i’ll be working at the club first…”
“that’s okay, darling. if you can play pretend, i’d like another dance, i’m afraid yesterday's was too short for my liking.”
you felt your cheeks blush at the prospect of it. this wasn’t something that crossed your mind, one that had been filled with nothing but wanda’s skin and lips, and every inch of her body. you can’t believe you hadn’t thought about it sooner - you had been awake for a couple of hours and at no point did you think how a situation like this would progress.
“well then,” you cooed, deciding you liked the idea wanda had presented to you. “let’s say nine pm? i’ll show you my dancing skills again, and you can showcase your cooking skills.”
and as you waited in anticipation as the minutes inched closer and closer to your scheduled time with wanda, you continued to scroll past boring tweets until one caught your eye. more specifically, a certain someone.
wanda maximoff pictured last week with her brother pietro maximoff at a conference.
the image attached made you gape in awe. you paid no mind to the woman’s brother and instead your eyes burned into wanda, and how gorgeous beyond belief she looked. she donned a grey tweed dior suit, with a matching jacket and black boots, and as luscious locks of ginger curls hung over her shoulders, you felt a knot form in your stomach.
with your body temperature rising all too quickly, you locked your phone and returned it to your clutch.
“scarlet. it’s nice to see you again.”
your head whipped up from your lap to the familiar voice in front of you. “wanda.” you smiled brightly, the embarrassing thought briefly passing in your mind that you had no idea how long she had been standing there for, and if she saw the contents on your phone. but with no indication written on her face, you ignore the mortifying thought and instead observe the classy raiment she wore.
wanda shot you a sultry look as you took in the cinched black blazer and the ankle-grazing skirt to match. you gulped dryly. wanda not wearing pants, was new to you, and your eyes raked up and down her body, appreciating the sight.
you outstretched a heel-clad foot to slightly push back the seat opposite you, which wanda happily sat down on, a leg crossing over the other as she rested her hands on the arms of the chair.
“you look incredible.” the sight of her made your head spin. “i mean… really, really, incredible.”
“thank you, darling.” wanda replied with a smile. her eyes bore into you, and you felt like she was drinking you in. “i like the silk robe you have on tonight.”
the compliment made you shift in your seat, and you grabbed your glass and raised it to gulp down the rest of the alcohol before placing it back on the small table between you. “thank you,” you purred, feeling your cheeks grow hot, “so, did you miss me?”
wanda nodded, a smirk spread on her plump lips, “you were quite a distraction for me in meetings today.”
“i was?” the knot in your stomach tightened from the exciting confession, “well then, you should know you’ve also been quite disruptive to my attention tonight.”
you didn’t miss the way wanda’s eyes fell to your thighs, and the red garter belts that hugged them. “a good night, though, i hope?” she asked.
“yes, but it’s about to get even better.”
ᗢ
after wanda had paid for another dance at the till, this one longer than the last, you led her by the hand through the corridor, purple fairy lights that hung overhead illuminating the way. and then, when you reached your desired booth, you felt your body buzz with great thrill.
after stepping into the purple-lit booth, the colour of your attire changed in the light to a shade that almost matched wanda’s. and as the redhead shifted to take her place on the seat, you glanced at the mirror beside you, one of many that littered the small room, and took in the two of you together. and god what a sight it was. you couldn’t believe your luck of being in close quarters with such a woman.
as you mused on the thought, you plugged your phone into the speaker behind the redhead and pressed play on your go-to playlist, and as the slow beat kicked in, you gazed down at wanda. intense eyes enraptured you as she softly bit down on her plump lower lip.
“mommy, you look so fucking good.” every fibre of your being urged you to kiss her. it took everything in you not to as you began to move your body to the music, your hips swaying gently.
“baby…” wanda gasped out at your words, her hands that rested on either side of her hips shifted to grip the edge of the seat. “i thought of you calling me that again, you sound so perfect when you do.”
though you couldn’t press your lips against the redheads, you needed to be closer to her, so you instead of standing, you straddled wanda, leaving a small gap between your thong and the material of her skirt, which you know would feel soft and expensive to the touch.
you began to move your hips, grinding in the space above her lap as you let your hands rest on her shoulders.
“and those legs of yours,” the redhead continued, her hips instinctively jutting upwards slightly, and inadvertently bumping against your clit. your breath caught in your throat at the sensation, and your hands on wanda’s shoulders tensed, your fingers pressing into her blazer. “so smooth and grabbable.”
“shit.” you panted, and although your mind whirled with wanda and the pleasure you were already feeling, you continued to dance and move your hips, following the sensual beat of the song. “i can’t wait for later, it’s been on my mind since i left you.”
“likewise, darling,” wanda beamed, “same plan I assume?”
with a grin, you nodded. eager and anticipating her to whisk you away again. but for now, you were going to enjoy being in the thick bubble of hot tension that surrounded you both, and enjoy the way wanda’s eyes practically devoured you.
❦ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You, from the kindness of your heart, rescue Wanda from Hybrid hunters in an alley a week ago. Took care of her in every way you can, since she's unconscious, and hospitals don't take kindly to them. She's awake now, and not what you expected.
❦ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Cursing, knives, blood, sexual tension, sizeable age gap (W is 38, R is 20), masturbating lol
❦ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k
Sometimes, you wonder if you're too trusting for your own good.
Even now, staring at the hybrid woman you'd dragged home, you can't help but question your judgment.
You'd found her half-dead in the alley. A weak deer-like hybrid. She'd been filthy, exhausted, and barely conscious.
So, naturally, you brought her home.
You cleaned her up. Patched her injuries. Let her sleep in your guest room. And this is how she repays you with a knife pressed against your throat.
The moment she'd woken up, panic had flooded her features. Wide, hysterical eyes locked onto yours as if you were the monster in this situation. You understood the fear, really. Waking up in an unfamiliar place couldn't be pleasant.
Still.
Did she really need to threaten your life?
You were helping her, for God's sake.
"Where am I?" the woman demanded breathlessly.
The blade dug slightly deeper into your skin.
Your ears caught the faint growl rumbling in her chest, low and instinctive. Her deer ears were flattened tightly against her head, practically screaming terror. Every muscle in her body looked coiled and ready to spring. She was terrified.
Unfortunately, that didn't make the knife any less sharp.
Maybe this was it.
You wince as the blade threatens to break skin. "My apartment-"
The hybrid's eyes widen as she processes this information. She's in a stranger's apartment, alone with her. Her instincts scream at her to run, to fight, to do something to protect herself. The knife trembles in her hand as she presses it harder against your throat.
The woman's nostrils flare, her deer ears twitching violently at the scent of Soulaan's fear. The knife trembles against the girl's throat. "Why?" she snarls, tail lashing behind her. "Last thing I remember is those hunters' tranq darts." Her eyes narrow imperceptibly, taking in the bandages on her own arms, the clean clothes, the absence of chains.
The blade wavers. A drop of blood beads where it nicks the skin. "Why?" The word cracks like dry wood. Her ears flick upward for half a second before flattening again. The wood floors creak under her shifting weight.
You lick your lips, breathing heavier than you wanted, "W-why what?" You ask gently.
"Why help me?" Her voice cracks like lightning, her deer tail puffing up in agitation. Her grip on the blade tightens as she presses herself against the girl. "Humans don't…" she trails off.
The blade gets dangerously close to cutting deeper, out of pure desperation and fight or flight, you tackle the older woman to the ground, and you both fall, you land on top of the older woman, and the knife clatters somewhere in the bedroom. The hybrid lets out an audible gasp, completely winded.
They scramble on the floor, your knee slots between the woman's legs to stop her from flipping you over. "Calm. Down."
The brunette bucks like a wild thing, her hips jerking upward with a choked gasp when your knee grinds against her. Her ears flatten completely, pupils blown wide - whether from panic or something else, you don't know.
"Fuck you," she spits, but her thrashing loses steam, muscles quivering. Her tail lashes once, twice, then goes still. "Get... off." The demand lacks its earlier venom.
“Are you going to try to hurt me again?” Your knee accidentally presses into the hybrid's core slightly.
Her breath hitches sharply, her back arching off the floor as your knee grinds into her sensitive core. A choked, near-silent, involuntary moan tears from her throat, her legs kicking uselessly against the carpet.
Her eyes roll back for a split second before snapping back to you, dilated pupils swimming with a chaotic mix of fury and humiliation.
"N-No- fuck!"
You glance around the guest room, seeing the knife near the door, and you look back at the hybrid on her back, panting quietly. You slowly get up and grab the knife.
"You know I saved you, right?" You slowly stand, gently dabbing the small cut on your neck, wincing.
The woman lets out a shuddering breath, her shoulders slumping as the adrenaline begins to crash out of her system, leaving only the humiliating aftermath of the heartbeat between her legs. Her ears slowly unpin themselves, twitching nervously as she stares up at you.
"I didn't ask for help."
You, sadly, undoubtedly made a mistake, saving this bitch. "Well, you got it. Not every human is evil," you sigh, adjusting your grey jacket.
Her tail lashes once, ears folding back slightly. "And not every hybrid is grateful," she snaps, but there's no heat behind the words. She's too exhausted, too aroused, too confused to maintain her usual hostility.
"… That's fine. I absolutely could kick you out of my place. I'm sure you'll be fine." She says sarcastically, "Parading in the cold with nothing but the clothes on your back."
"Then fucking do it!" she barks. "I don't need your charity."
Is she serious? Does she not comprehend the gravity of her situation!? You stare at her for a moment, lamely, before slowly shaking your head in incredulity. "Fi-"
The brunette interrupts, "Wait- shit," she groans, pressing her hands to her burning face, demanding relief. "Look... I'm not.." She takes a shaky breath.
"... I'm not saying I don't want to stay. Just stop acting like you're some fucking saint," she mutters, continuing, eyes downcast. "You want something from me. Nobody does shit for free." Her ears twitch, listening for your reaction.
"I wanted to save a life."
Her eyes narrow at your harsh words, her instincts screaming at her to apologize even as her pride refuses to let her back down. She bites her lower lip hard. "Fuck off,"
"Just... fuck off," she repeats, weaker this time, scooting up to the nearby wall, burying her face in her knees.
You sigh, rubbing your face, as if trying to get rid of the resignation you feel. "I'm locking you in here for my safety. Knock on the door when you grow up."
—
Thirty fucking minutes pass.
Wanda doesn't look up, her body trembling slightly with a mix of anger and embarrassment. She hears you rummaging in your home, doing whatever. The door had locked behind you with a harsh click. Alone in the room, she had finally let out a slow breath, trying to regain some control over her scattered thoughts. Why would you help her? You seem so… innocent. To the eye, you seem at least eighteen years younger than her. You should be too wrapped up in your own life to even think about housing another person, yet here she is.
She curls into herself on the floor, knees pulled to her chest. The carpet scratches against her sensitive tail. She hates this - hates the hunters, hates her heat, hates how easily you bested her twice.
But mostly she hates how her body still aches for that warmth between her legs.
"Fucking hell, she groans.
Her eyes roam the guest room, she assumes. It's pretty woodsy, cozy, and warm. She didn't pay any attention to til now. It smells like vanilla and cedar. Unmistakably feminine.
Her hand presses between her thighs, and she winces at the contact. Not enough. Never enough. She whimpers softly, rubbing desperately against her clothed core despite the part of her that knows it's pathetic.
Why did her heat have to start today?
After five more minutes of careful calculation, Wanda slowly rises, glancing at her clothes, they are t hers. For sure. The human scent is everywhere. It's overwhelming.
She's in a simple band tee with loose pajama pants. They're a little small on her, considering the height difference.
She reaches the door and hesitates before knocking once, hard. Then again. One more time, then repeatedly.
God, get her out of this ro-
Your shorter form opens the door. Your eyes meet green. "Done whining?" You ask, with a brow raised.
Wanda's jaw tightens, her deer ears folding back in humiliation. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair disheveled, and she can smell her own arousal in the air between them. She hates how small and vulnerable she must look -hated even more.
"I didn't knock to apologize," she lies, voice cracking. Her tail sways slightly behind her.
"I knocked because-" Shs continues, voice wavering. She can't say it. Her pride won't let her.
Instead, her hips twitch subtly, seeking the friction she wasn't getting earlier. She looks away. "Just... don't lock me in here again," she mumbles pathetically. "It's dark in here."
You notice her very poorly veiled anxiety, and lick your lips. "Don't you have night vision or something?" Your arms cross over your chest.
"It's not the same," Wanda snaps back defensively, ears folding back even more at the implication that she's weak. "I'm not used to being trapped in the dark.
It's fucking unsettling."
"Can I trust you?"
"You can trust that I won't fucking kill you," she snarls back. "That's about as nice as I'm gonna get right now." She shifts her weight between her feet, hips rolling involuntarily.
You roll your eyes as you side-step, Wanda in the doorway, letting the older woman into the hallway of the human's home.
Wanda squeezes past her, trying not to brush against the younger woman's body.
Every movement feels like torture, her core clenching desperately around nothing.
She needs pressure, friction, something.
She stops in the middle of the hallway.
"What?"
You ask, stopping a little behind her.
"Nothing," she bites out, crossing her arms over her chest. Her tail lashes behind her, a clear sign of her agitation.
She's trying to hold herself together, but her heart is making it impossible.
She needs release, and she needs it now.
"Just… j-just give me some space," she growls softly, her voice strained. She walks a few steps down the hallway, her hips swaying more than necessary. Her tail fluffs out some. "Fuck," she whispers to herself.
You walk past the taller woman haphazardly. "The bathrooms are to your left." She gestures to the door.
Wanda doesn't need to be told twice.
She bolts for the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. The moment she's alone, she's pulling at her pants, shoving them down along with panties that aren't hers. She stumbles as she turns on the light.
She sits on the edge of the bathtub, fingers trembling as they hover between her thighs.
Wanda knows it won't feel nearly as good without someone else doing it, but she's desperate.
Her fingers part her folds, sliding through the wetness already gathered there. She hisses softly as she finds her clit, already swollen and sensitive. She starts to rub frantically, hips bucking against her own hand. It's messy, it's desperate, it's not enough - but it's something.
Two fingers push inside her in a sloppy rhythm, her thumb circling her clit roughly. Her breathing comes in short, sharp gasps. Her heat makes everything too intense; every brush of her own fingers feels electric, but it's missing the weight of another body, the heat of another person.
She groans pathetically, her hips rolling desperately. "F-fuck- "
Her free hand grabs onto the edge of the bathtub, knuckles white as she fucks herself with increasing urgency. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes from the frustration and overwhelming need. It's not enough, it's never enough without someone else touching her.
Her hips snap forward, fingers curling inside her as she chases the elusive peak that feels just out of reach. She bites her lip hard to stifle a loud cry, the sound of wet noises filling the small bathroom.
Her tail thrashes behind her, slapping against the tub wall.
She comes in a shuddering gasp, her walls clenching desperately around her fingers. But it's hollow - over too quickly, unsatisfying. She stays propped on the edge of the tub, chest heaving, fingers still buried inside herself as she tries to catch her breath.
She nearly falls in the tub when two soft knocks rap on the door, "You okay?"
"I'm fine," she snaps back instantly, voice hoarse and strained. She quickly pulls her fingers out of herself, the sticky sensation making her cringe. She scrambles to pull her pants back up.
Wanda's legs are trembling violently as she stands.
She leans heavily against the sink, trying to wash her hands and steady her breathing simultaneously. "Don't come in here."
"Wasn't going to?"
Wanda splashes cold water on her face, trying to compose herself. Her ears are still flat against her head, tail lashing slowly. She feels hollowed out and raw, her heat still humming in her veins like a second heartbeat. She's never felt so... pathetic. Not even when she was held captive by the hunters, before she escaped.
The bathroom door opens, and Wanda emerges, trying her damndest to look as unaffected as possible. Her steps are slow and unsteady. Also trying her darndest not to lean against a wall after coming on her fingers.
Student Wanda Maximoff x Mean Professor GN! Reader
Warnings : Smut
DNI 18+
This is for my guy @aloneodi <3
Go check out his stuff. It's amazing
Y/N Y/L/N was the professor that no one wanted to get on the wrong side of. They were mean. They gave their students a hard time. Wanting them to be the best they could. No one dared to disobey them.
Although they had a soft spot for Wanda Maximoff. From the first moment she walked through the door as a freshman. She was the only girl that didn't try to throw herself at them.
Well I suppose that may be because her father was also the dean. Y/N's boss. As tge years went on, they took a special interest in Wanda. They offered her a position as their assistent. Telling her it is amazing for extra credit. Which being the good girl she is, she took the opportunity without a thought.
She knew that whenever Y/N was reprimanding the class for failing, she knew she was never a part of that. She knew she was Y/N's best student. The only one who bothered to listen to their words. Although she wasn't the party type of girl like her brother. Pietro loved to party. Get drunk. He was failing Y/N's class.
"Mr Maximoff. A word." They spoke sternly as the class gathered their things to leave. Wanda smiled shyly at them as she made her way to their office to help with their paperwork.
"What is it professor?" He asked impatiently.
"You are failing miserably." They told him bluntly.
"Maybe you can fudge my grades. You know since my dad is your boss." He smirked thinking he had power over them.
"Why don't you open a book and listen in my lectures." They told him. "I do not care if your father is the dean. I will fail whoever doesn't do well in my class. You may leave now."
Y/N sighed before they went to their office. Wanda was already inside sat in her chair with two coffees.
"You are a life saver Wanda." They thanked her as they sat in her chair. Wanda had been their student for almost two years now. Coming to the end of her Sophmore year.
"So Pietro tried the Dean card?" She asked as they chuckled with a nod.
"I'm sure he thinks that will scare me." They said as she smiled. She had been their assistant over a year and she has loved spending every minute she can with them. "It may work on Professor Rogers but not me."
"You are a hard one." She said as they just smirked at her choice of words.
"I'm a hard one?" They teased as she realised how that must of sounded.
"Oh god. I'm sorry. I never meant it like that." She rambled on.
"You're cute when your nervous." They whispered as she looked at them. An obvious tension now in the room.
"What?" Wanda spoke confused. As much as she loved to be around them. The endless butterflies in her stomach as she was sat in their presence.
"I said you're cute when you're nervous." They repeated as they stood from their seat and walked to their office door. Locking it before closing the blinds. They now stood behind a nervous Wanda, who's heart was beating out of her chest. Y/N then rested their hands on her shoulders. "You don't have to be nervous." They whispered in her ear as the massaged her shoulders.
"I'm not." She spoke weakly. They leaned closer to her ear. Their lips ghosting her skin.
"I would have believed you if you were just as confident you usually are in my lectures." They husked out. Wanda could feel her arousal pooling in her underwear at their words. "So what has got you so nervous?" They asked as they moved to kneel in front of her. Their hands resting on her thighs.
"I have to go. My next class." Wanda spoke barely above a whisper as she got to her feet.
"Your next class isn't for 45 minutes." They said as they stood before her. Towering over her. "I know your schedule." Wanda was stepping back without realising the minimal space she had until her back was pressed against the tall bookcase in Y/N's office. "So what has you so nervous right now Wanda?"
Her breath hitched when their hand found her hip. Squeezing the flesh under the shirt. The other caressing her cheek. She clenched around nothing as Y/N's head found their way nuzzled into her neck. Her eyes closed when she felt their tongue graze her skin.
"You." She breathed out. Her heart beating as Y/N smirked. "You make me so nervous Professor. I get this feeling whenever I'm around you. Every single nerve in my body tingles. Especially my uh. You know."
"Your pussy." They spoke bluntly. She hid her face in their shoulder as their hand made it's way to the button on her jeans. "You get wet for me do you?" Wanda shuddered as she watched breathlessly what they were doing. Before she could answer, their hand was already in her jeans. Rubbing her dripping core over her lace underwear.
"Fuck." Wanda moaned as they applied a bit more pressure to her clit. She loved the sensation.
"Has anyone ever touched you like this before Wanda?" They asked her as they pushed her jeans and underwear down slightly. She shook her head no with a moan as Y/N's fingers glided through her puffy folds. "Words darling."
"No." She breathed out as they inserted a finger into her core.
"So are you a virgin?" They asked her. Honestly intrigued by the innocence that is Wanda Maximoff. All she could do was nod shyly. "You are too cute Wanda." They cupped her cheek with their free hand making her look in their eyes as they thrusted in and out slowly before adding another finger. "I won't do anything unless you don't want me too. Do you want me to continue?"
"Yes." She breathed out before they pressed their lips to hers in a needy kiss. As they increased their pace, adding another finger. She moaned louder than before. They undone their tie. Gagging her with it. They admired her face as she reached a place of pure euphoria. When she got close to the edge, she tried to push Y/N's hand away as they added another finger. They fought against her as they continued.
"Trust me Wanda." They whispered softly. "Let it go. Don't fight it." She listened to them. With a few more thrusts, Wanda came for the first time and she loved it. She wanted more. She watched as they sucked their fingers clean.
"Oh professor." She breathed out before she noticed how tight their trousers were. She kicked off her shoes and her jeans and underwear fully before she undone their belt and trousers. "You seem to have a problem. Do you need help to solve it?"
"Are you sure?" They asked her.
"Yes." She said as she pulled their trousers and boxers down. She moaned at their hardened cock already waiting to be used. "I did that?"
"You do it to me every night Wanda." They said as they turned her around. Removing her top and bra so she was fully naked. Facing away from them. They pushed her against the bookcase. Running a hand down her spine slowly. "I find myself hard just at the thought of you." They massaged her ass cheeks, spreading them apart. "I find myself pleasuring myself to the thought of you. And to have you here. Bare and dripping." They ran their tip through her folds as she gripped on to the shelves for support. "I am honestly finding it hard to maintain control."
"Don't control yourself." She told them. "Take me. Make me yours."
They groaned as they gripped her hips harshly. Inserting themselves into her without warning. Wanda screamed out in pain as they started to move slowly. They kept their body close to hers. Their chest pressed up against her back. They reached around and massaged her breasts roughly. Pinching and twisting her nipples. Wanda's arousal dripping down her thighs. Coming closer to her second climax.
"Oh Professor. Harder." She moaned as they complied. Going harder and faster. Wanda struggled to keep her moans down. They got louder and louder with each thrust. Y/N grunted with each thrust. Reaching around to apply pressure to her clit. She moaned loudly as she reached her high as did they. Wanda moaned at the feeling of being full. Y/N stayed inside her making sure their cum mixed.
"Looks like we aren't going to class for the rest of the day." They whispered as she clenched around them. Making them hard again. "You're going to look beautiful with my babies growing inside you."
Wanda moaned before they pulled out. Taking her to their desk. Ready to maje even more of a mess.
Summary: Wanda hates seeing you and Natasha be happy together. She wants you to be happy with her. When you and Wanda are alone at the compound while the others are on a week-long mission she makes her move.
Warnings: Masturbating, love potion, cheating, soft sex, praise, pet names, tiny bit of angst in the end, no happy ending for some people in the story.
contains - reader having a past of dating men, reader giving herself aftercare because she's used to it, wanda worrying along with slightly crying, hurt/comfort, mentions of past sex but not actually happening (at first..)
a/n - although this hasn't happened to me, I'm aware that it's happened to many others, and I'm also aware that many find comfort in wanda, which is understandable so I feel like this is a perfect fic!
Wanda unbuckled the harness from around her hips before leaning over you with her forearm on the pillow above your head and placing a soft but slow kiss onto your lips, black painted finger tips lightly playing with your hair as she did. It only lasted a few moments then she pulled back.
"I'll be right back, okay?" She murmured, her Sokovien accent showing as she smiled down at you before she started walking towards the bathroom. It didn't take long for you to hear the bathroom door click shut, and the shower to start running, which you assumed was for her and your body started moving on instinct, grabbing your clothes off the floor and putting back on your already used undergarments, then your clothes—the feeling made you feel dirty, but you wouldn't say that as this was how it always was.
Little did you know, the bath was for both of you.
—🩹—
"Bath's read-... Oh." Wanda frowned as she noticed the empty space where you had just been, the wrinkled sheets showing that you had left not too long ago. Your clothes not being on the floor only further bolding the point: You had left. But why? She truly did not know, racking her brain to find an answer, though the more she tried, the more she started to worry.
Did you not enjoy yourself as much as she'd thought? Had she done something wrong? Did she make you uncomfortable? God she made you uncomfortable, didn't she?
Wanda thought to herself, resting her hand on her forehead, red faintly glowing at her finger tips at the thought of pushing you too far of not being comfortable whilst she paced around the room, bracelets lightly jingling and hair lightly swaying with each of her movements. She hadn't realized tears were forming in her eyes until her vision got blurry, which she tried to blink away with a swallow.
Maybe if I just text her, she'll tell me, right? We'll go back to normal and she won't be upset anymore, right?
Wanda pandered, already reaching for her phone to look for your contact, which was pinned at the top despite the name she has set for you not at the top.
Her fingers quickly swiped across the keyboard with shaky hands, some words having misspellings though she wasn't worried about that as she hit sent and threw the phone onto the bed, pacing some more. Only to attempt to get a hold of you a few moments later.
—🩹—
Wands👅
12:03pm
Are you okay?
Did I make you uncomfortable?
Is that why you left?
Because if it is, I'm so sorry
12:07pm
Please don't be mad anymore, I'm sorry if I did anything.
12:12pm
Are you going to leave me?
Please don't leave me. I won't do what I did again, I promise.
—🩹—
Though as her text went through your phone one after another, you didn't notice due to your phone being on dnd because of the earlier activities whilst you walked into your apartment, which is not too far from the tower. By the time you walked through the door, you were already trying to peel your clothes off from your body.
God, you hated having to do this with every partner you get: hated having to put on already ruined underwear so you can go home to take care of yourself, hated having to take care of yourself after sex even when your body is the one receiving it, hated feeling used. But unfortunately, it wouldn't get done if you didn't do it yourself.
You thought to yourself as you walked towards the bathroom, tossing the clothes you'd already taken off in the hamper, trying to get the rest off so you can scrub your skin and try not to feel any more dirty than you already did.
You wanted to act strong like it didn't affect you, but god, it did. It made you want to cry your eyes out whilst you got down to your underwear, tossing them in the basket before hurrying over to the shower and just turning it on, almost immediately hopping in, not caring if it was too hot. You just wanted to scrub yourself clean of the 'dirt' on you.
You were too used to this routine so instead of sulking in the shower, you immediately reached for your loofah, pouring body wash on it and started scrubbing away at your skin, wincing here and there when you scrubbed over a bruised area from Wanda's rough handling (something you'd asked her to do).
—🩹—
Hoping out of the shower, you walked out the bathroom with a towel wrapped around you and your skin a light shade of red from the scrubbing, though skin soft due to the lotion you out on.
You didnt think to check your phone, thinking Wanda was asleep by now because why would she still be up? She had already taken her shower, right?
Well, you'd be very wrong
Back at the tower, Wanda was anxiously trying to take her mind off worrying about you; repainting her perfectly panted nails, stress-eating without realizing it, though everytime she did something, immediately after doing it, she'd check her phone. She just wanted to know if you were okay.
It'd probably help if she knew what you were doing, in which you were currently putting on your pajamas and hoping into bed, getting comfortable against the pillow and under the comforter. It didn't take you long to go to sleep, considering everything that happened.
Though she didnt know that, and she couldn't take it anymore. The silence from your end was killing her and she needed to hear you say that you're okay, that you weren't leaving her and still loved her, which is why she begin to get dressed to head towards your apartment.
—🩹—
A knock at your front door was the thing that awoke you. Slowly peering your eyes open, you glanced at the alarm clock on your nightstand, the time reading 2:45am, which confused you because who could be knocking on the door at this time? But despite that, you got out of bed to head down the hall.
"I'm coming, I'm coming.." You grumbled, slowly unlocking the door and opening it to reveal a wrecked looking Wanda; face twisted in worry, green eyes slightly damp in the lighting, chin lightly trembling like she was on the verge of tears. Though at the sight of you, her face filled with relief as she practically launched herself at you, arms tightly around her waist as her face stayed in your neck for a moment.
After a moment she pulled back to look at you, only this time her face was contorted in anger as she pushed you away, the gesture confusing you.
"Why did you leave?!" She exclaimed, accent becoming more pronounced as she poked you in the chest with her pointer finger "Do you know how worried I was! And you didn't even respond to any of my text!–"
"What do you mean?" Your voice cut her off, voice calm yet confused, which only made her angrier. "What do I mean?! You got up and left after we had sex, I came back from running the bath and you weren't there! Do you know how much that affects me?!"
"Wait, a bath for us? What do you mean, do you mean yourself?" Now it was Wanda's turn to be confused, her anger morphing into it as she stared at you for a second before responding. Had she not made herself clear?
"I mean a bath for two, like.. taking one together, you know?" "No I know what that is, I just don't understand why you'd want that, when I can take care of myself." You stated with a shrug, gesturing towards her.
"Right, but I wanted to take care of you."
"Yeah, but you also have to take care of yourself, plus I'm used to doing it and–" "You shouldn't be used to it." She murmured with exaggerated air quotes whilst keeping her eyes on you. When you didnt respond, her face softened as she cupped your face in her hands.
"Oh detka.."
a/n² - sorry to cut this short, sweets, I dont like how out of character it seems, but in too lazy to rewrite this sooooo guess I'm just going to post it and see what happens
Summary: Wanda says yes to Columbia University… but what about you?
Characters: stoner!wanda x reader
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: minor depression mention, makeup sex, marijuana use, mommy kink, teasing, pineapple on pizza (lol)
author’s note: happy birthday to my best girl, my beautiful girlfriend, who had lost faith in me about finishing this series… to which I’d say she was half right considering I never thought I’d have a finale here. I love you baby 🧡
“And I’m so goddamn proud of you! But what about us?! What about me, Wanda?” The tears began to fall and you watched as her excited expression fell, finally realizing what you had meant all along.
“Oh. I… I don’t know.”
It had been a full week since you’d last seen your girlfriend. It had also been a full week since you showered or left your room; barely getting up to pee and have a snack. You had tons of unread texts buzzing through your phone from Wanda. She was begging you to talk to her.
In that very long week, you’d gone through every scenario in your head. Everything from ‘she’ll probably just break up with me’, to ‘maybe I should just join her’. None of it made any sense. After all, Wanda told you she applied long before she moved here and you know she was telling the truth. Why was it so hard for you to believe that she forgot? You were so incredibly proud of her for getting a full ride to Columbia. Why were you also so sad?
*buzz buzz*
‘Please baby, I need to see you so I can explain!’
You picked up your phone and decided to respond. There were only two weeks left of summer break before Wanda would inevitably move across the country without you. Maybe she didn’t burn for you like you thought she did. Maybe you’ll always love her more. You ran your hands over your face in exasperation.
‘Ok’.
That’s all you responded with. You didn’t have much else in you. You didn’t even care to shower. You didn’t hear her text back since you had fallen asleep; dreaming of what could be if the world was a perfect place.
“Wanda, if you had your way you would’ve been late to your own wedding!”
“Baby please, I wasn’t late!”
“Only because I insisted that your brother be in charge of getting you here as quick as possible! You know that man is never late for anything.” The two of you laughed.
Salem walked over to Wanda and plopped himself in her lap, purring as she sat on the couch. You closed your eyes and sighed, picking up the black cat who gave you a stink eye as he walked away.
“Baby-“
“Wanda, please! You need to get dressed and we need to put our “smoking paraphernalia” away before your parents get here!”
Almost on cue, there was a knock on the front door, opening it up to see-
You sat up, tears about to stream down your cheeks as you were awoken to chip bags crumbling and a trash bag shuffling. Wanda had started cleaning up your depressive episode, and for a moment you forgot she had your spare key. Your parents’ house was nothing to brag about; a modern double wide with just enough bedrooms so you didn’t have to share with your sister growing up.
“Wanda-“
“Shhh, just let me do this, please,” she begged.
“Wanda, we need to talk,” you insisted. “Isn’t that why you asked to come over?”
“Well… yes but I do miss you,” she said quietly.
You didn’t respond as she continued to pick up the trash that had scattered around your bedroom. You weren’t a messy person by any means but this latest development had sent you spiraling. Wanda was your best friend, your lover, your partner, your soulmate. How could you let her move across the country when you were right here?
You didn’t realize tears were streaming down your cheeks now at full force. Wanda looked up from her cleaning spree and cooed. “Baby!”
“Baby please talk to me, the silent treatment has been killing me!” Wanda exclaimed.
“Killing you?! How do you think I feel?!” You asked. “We had this amazing, dream come true relationship, and a giant envelope comes in the mail and ruins it all!”
“Baby, I really did forget about it! I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. This doesn’t have to be the end of us though,” Wanda said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“How can it not?! You’ll be three thousand plus miles away! And you’ll be busy with school and your new friends and probably a new girlfriend!” You cried out.
“Who said anything about a new girlfriend?!” Wanda asked incredulously. “You’re my girlfriend. You’re it for me, pretty girl. From the moment you stalked me at the skate park!”
Wanda’s comment did make you chuckle a bit. “But-“
“Just because I’ll be far away, doesn’t mean we can’t make this work! I can fly you out for weekend visits and we can FaceTime on all the days we can’t be there together in person! And we can still have our date nights and-“ Wanda sighed. “But… only if you want to try.”
“Wanda,” you whispered through tears. “I love you, but what if this doesn’t work?”
“I love you most, pretty girl. But we won’t know if it doesn’t work if we don’t try. I know it’s scary and I know the unknown is well… unknown… but what if it works and the time apart only brings us closer together?” Wanda said.
Wanda scooted further up in the bed to wrap her arms around you, pressing a kiss to your dirty hair. “Okay,” you said weakly.
“Okay?” Wanda asked.
“Okay, I’m willing to try. I don’t want to lose you Wanda, and I trust you with all that I have,” you said. “Just promise me one thing.”
“Anything baby! Anything at all!”
“You go out there and you kick Columbia’s ass!” You said, giggling slightly.
Wanda chuckled. “There’s my girl!”
She pulled you even closer to her and you had forgotten that it had been a week since you’d showered and you knew in that moment what she was about to say. “Can you promise me something in return?”
“Of course, my love.”
“Please don’t ever go an entire week without showering ever again?”
“Is it really that bad?” You asked, covering your face.
“It’s that bad,” Wanda said, giggling. “Let me help you out of bed so we can see if your legs still work.”
Wanda helped you stand, watching in disgust at how crumpled you looked but she was determined to take care of you. “Stay right there!”
You frowned, sitting on the edge of the bed, not knowing if you’d be able to stand so long without her. You could hear the running water from the bathroom, smiling to yourself a little as you could tell she was running a bath for you. Wanda came back to take your hand and bring you to the bathroom, where she had set up a nice warm bubble bath, lit some candles, and grabbed you a large glass of water; forcing you to drink it even though you’re not a fan.
“Wanda-“
“Shhhh, c’mere beautiful,” she cooed.
You blushed as Wanda removed your oversized shirt and underwear. “Sorry,” you mumbled.
“No my love, I’m sorry. My application and acceptance to Columbia should’ve been something that was talked about before this whole thing blew up. Let me make it up to you, baby,” Wanda said, as she removed her clothing as well. You couldn’t help but drool as usual. Wanda stepped in the bathtub first, before holding out a hand to help you follow suit.
The calming scent of lavender overwhelmed your senses as you sat in the bathtub with your girlfriend. You reached out to grab your wash cloth but Wanda swatted your hand away. “Let me,” she said quietly.
She washed your hair first, taking the time to massage your scalp, almost putting you to sleep with how good she is at that. After your hair was shampooed and conditioned, she helped wash your body, using a new gentle exfoliating scrub that you’d never seen before.
“Did my sister put you up to this?” You asked.
“No, it was my idea after she told me you smelled so bad that the neighbors down the street could smell you!”
“Hey!” You exclaimed, chuckling as you splashed her.
“I just wanted to make sure my baby was being taken care of is all,” Wanda cooed.
“I wasn’t doing a very good job of that myself,” you sighed. “I don’t know what I’ll do once you move, Wanda.”
“Shhh we will cross that bridge when we get to it, baby. Just let mommy take care of you tonight,” Wanda said softly. You hummed at the title and closed your eyes as she washed the filth and stink away.
“Baby we have to stand up so we can properly rinse the bubbles off,” Wanda said.
“Mmmm but you’re so cozy!” You whined.
“C’mon baby we can get cozy after we’re rinsed and dry,” Wanda cooed.
You huffed but obliged, slowly and carefully standing up so you didn’t slip. The two of you rinsed and stepped out of the tub; Wanda wrapping you in a warm, fluffy towel before guiding you back to your room. You’d never felt so pampered before; Wanda sitting behind you on your bed as she brushed your hair. The two of you went through your nighttime routines, almost as if living together was normal. And for just a moment, your thoughts weren’t plagued with the reality of Wanda leaving in a few short weeks.
“You need to eat,” Wanda said, kissing your shoulder after finishing with your hair.
“Can we just order a pizza?” You asked. “I don’t wanna cook or go out.”
“Of course, sweet girl,” Wanda cooed. “The usual?”
If your eyes could produce hearts, you were sure they would. You nodded, grabbing your vape pen and taking a few hits. You could definitely tell that after a week’s worth of rotting, you’d need to replace your cart sooner rather than later.
“That tasted like an email,” you said, coughing, and sputtering. Wanda laughed and you forgot how much you missed her in that moment.
“Here baby,” she said, handing you a fresh cart. She leaned in but then stopped herself. “May I kiss you?”
You nodded, but she frowned. “Yes please,” you whispered. Wanda leaned in again, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You grabbed her face and pulled her close, kissing her with so much emotion and love that maybe would somehow make up for the week away. Her hands were wandering your body, the two of you still not dressed after your relaxing bath. Wanda’s hands traveled to your ass, scooping you up into her lap to face her, with a little yelp of surprise from you in the process.
“Please,” you whispered as her kisses trailed down your neck, leaving little bites in their wake.
“Please what, baby?” Wanda tortured. Her lips were now trailing down your chest, getting closer and closer to your hardened nipples.
“Please mommy! I need you,” you whined.
“Patience, my sweet girl,” Wanda said, taking one of your nipples in her mouth. She closed her lips around it, gently sucking and nibbling, her tongue soothing over the bites. She took her time on each one, undoubtably able to feel how wet you were as you sat in her lap. You hadn’t noticed that your hips had started moving, in an attempt to get some relief from her teasing.
“Aww my needy baby,” Wanda teased, pulling away. “Tell mommy what you want so badly.”
You blushed, your head falling forward onto her shoulder, all of a sudden feeling very exposed and shy. “I can’t hear you baby,” Wanda said.
You felt her reach out to your nightstand, grabbing your pen so you could take a few more hits. Or so you thought. Wanda lifted your head and you watched as she took a hit from your pen first. And then she grabbed your face, allowing you to shotgun from her, just like your first time, sitting in this exact position, just with more clothes on. The moment brought you back and you were feeling suddenly even more needy. This continued for a few more times and you were most definitely feeling the high now.
“Need you Mommy,” you said, your high letting you be a little more brave. “Need you to touch me.”
“Aw my love, but I am already touching you! Is that all you wanted?”
“N-no! I wantyoutotouchmypussy!” You stammered out. Wanda giggled and figured she’d tortured you enough. She helped you off her lap and down onto the bed, spreading your legs while admiring how messy your pussy had become.
Wanda hesitated no longer and took a long, thick lick over your exposed cunt. “Oh fuck!”
Your hands flew to Wanda’s hair, holding it away from her face as she ate you out. Gentle sucks on your clit had your hips arching, but she pushed you back down. Wanda always made sure to finish her meal. “Doing so well for me baby,” Wanda teased against your pussy. Every time the two of you end up like this, it feels like the very first time. It wasn’t long before her ministrations sent you over the edge, not once but twice.
“Wanda,” you gasped as she climbed up next to you, while she placed her hand flat over your pussy.
“Mine. This will always be mine. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, mommy!”
“Good girl! Now go get cleaned up, I think the pizza is here!”
You had forgotten about the pizza delivery and rushed to the bathroom to use the toilet and grab some clean clothes to put on. Wanda had already grabbed plates and napkins from the kitchen, reheating a few slices in the microwave. You found Wanda setting up a little “picnic” on your bed, a blanket out on top and the plates and pizza on that too. Wanda had turned on the television to the celebrity gossip channel (her favorite).
“You got my favorite!” You exclaimed. You took a big bite of the pepperoni and pineapple topped slice and moaned.
“Careful there, baby,” Wanda teased. You shoved her gently and the two of you sat and ate, listening to Entertainment Tonight as you finished. You leaned back in bed and rubbed your tummy, four slices later, you and Wanda had devoured that pizza.
“My love, I’ve been thinking,” Wanda said. “What if…. What if we didn’t have to do long distance.”
“Wanda, I’m not that good at math but I think three thousand plus miles is a bit of a distance!” You said, looking at her a little crazily.
“Well yes, you are right about that but… hear me out,” she started. “What if…. What if we moved in together?”
“I-,” you stuttered.
“My dad could get me a little apartment! He owes me anyway.. and we could decorate it super cute and history will say we were roommates and-“
“Wanda, wait. And what would I do while you’re in school? I can’t go to Columbia! I didn’t even care to apply to college!” You said, starting to get upset again.
“Baby wait, listen. You could do whatever you want! If you wanted to take classes online, you could. If you wanted to get a job out there, you could, but you wouldn’t have to, or you could be my little stay at home wife and do whatever you want!” Wanda exclaimed. “It’s an entirely different world over there!”
“Can I think about it?” You asked, hating that you didn’t have a single answer right this moment.
“Of course my love,” Wanda reassured. She gave you a smile, and a kiss and you picked up your dinner picnic to throw away the trash. On your walk to the kitchen, you contemplated Wanda’s proposal. It really is a different world there. You’d never been to New York, or the east coast in general. Maybe you’d find a cool job and the thrill of coming back to your own place that you lived in with Wanda made you feel excited. You were thinking about the opportunities you’d have to go to different museums and see Broadway musicals and try tons of New York pizza. But then there was leaving your parents and your sister… They’d understand, right? You and Wanda have been together an entire year now. Not unheard of for a couple to move in together after that.
You hadn’t realized you were standing and staring out the kitchen window when Wanda tapped you lightly on the shoulder. “Those gears are really turning, huh, my love?”
“They are.. I’d really like to talk to my parents first if that’s okay. Not that I need their permission but I’m sure you understand. I hope,” you said, eyes softening as you turned to face your girlfriend.
“Of course baby,” Wanda said, smiling. She placed a kiss on your forehead and grabbed your hand back to go back to bed. “Can I stay the night? Or would you rather I not, so you can talk to your parents tomorrow?”
“Hmm as much as I love sleeping with you, I think it’s best I talk to my parents alone,” you said, hanging your head.
“Hey pretty girl, it’s okay! It’s a big ask, a big step, a big proposition. Whatever the outcome, I love you so much no matter what, okay?” Wanda said softly, pulling you in for a tight hug. “I love you, beautiful.”
“I love you most,” you responded.
——
“This box is so damn heavy, what’s in here, bricks?!” Your older sister asked.
“I should’ve just asked Pietro to help if all you’re going to do is complain!” You cried out. The box was heavy but your sister did help you pack so she should know.
Wanda’s stuff was already packed away neatly in the truck, with some furniture already at the new place across the country, waiting to be unboxed. You both agreed to buy a new bed just so you’d have somewhere to sleep when you visit home. The two of you had picked out the perfect little flat in New York City, and planned on adopting a cat as soon as you’re both settled.
“You ready for this, baby?” Wanda asked, stepping next to you inside the large moving truck.
“Yes and no, I’m nervous, but I’ll go anywhere with you,” you said, taking Wanda’s hand.
“I’ll be there every step of the way. We’ll be together,” Wanda said, pulling you into her side.
Will you please write a stepdad nat with her not being able to resist fucking you with your mom in the other room? Gp
Hush
Pairing: Stepdad!Natasha x Fem!Reader
Content Warning: Stepcest/fauxcest, slight daddy kink, cheating, GP!Natasha, vaginal sex. Please be mindful, this is not a healthy relationship between stepfather and stepdaughter!
Word count: 1.3k
A/N: thank you for the request! immensely fun to write. wrote this in an hour just before bedtime. charlie needs a glass of warm milk and some sleep
Your stepdad is insatiable.
Your quick little trysts had started as just that: quick, casual little things when your mother wasn’t home. Natasha’s taken you in the hallway, on the couch, pressed against the kitchen cabinets, she had the libido of a damn stallion and you would hate it if it didn’t make you a little weak in the knees.
But at some point, Natasha had started seeking you out more frequently.
“I’m sorry, kiddo, your mom kicked me out of our room,” she murmurs apologetically against your neck after slipping into your bed one warm summer night. “Not my fault, baby, I’m sorry.”
Your bedroom is dim, your childhood nightlight struggling to light up the room. You hum gently as Natasha’s arms wrap around your waist, her front pressed against your back, and for a moment you think she’s getting ready to shut her eyes and fall asleep, but then a wandering hand brushes the hem of your soft sleep shirt, fingertips cool against your abdomen, and you gasp softly.
“Dad,” you whisper, and Natasha hums lazily. “Dad, you can’t. Mom’s next door.”
“She’s not gonna hear,” your stepdad says, though it does little to soothe your worries. The same wandering hand starts to inch upwards, and when she finally grasps at your chest, you can’t help but arch your back against her. Your ass presses against her front — with the thin material of both of your pyjamas, you can feel her hips stir against you as she stiffens under your touch. She hisses softly. “Fuck, baby, it’s like you want this more than me.”
“You have to be quick,” you mumble, but now Natasha’s up, pushing you onto your back until you’re looking up at her with wide eyes.
Your chest rises and falls steadily with every breath, and you glance at the door. It’s unlocked. If you were too loud, there was every chance of being discovered, and that couldn’t happen at any cost.
Natasha lifts your legs up and you wordlessly acquiesce, lifting your hips for her to shimmy your pants off. “Pretty baby,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your calf. “My pretty little girl.” Next are your panties, a frilly white pair that Natasha had mentioned offhandedly once about finding cute and girly, so you’d bought three more hoping she’d be able to take them off.
You squirm with warmth. “Take it off,” you demand, voice wavering. Natasha huffs.
“Should get up and leave just for that,” she says, though without any real anger, and then your panties slide down your thighs too easily. “I’m your fucking dad, I make the rules, okay?”
The firmness of her voice makes you throb. “Y-yes, Daddy,” you reply, and you see Natasha’s brow soften. She leaves another kiss on your calf, and then she’s spreading your legs apart with her work-rough hands.
“Look at that pretty pussy,” Natasha says, almost to herself, and a hand absently trails to your cunt, gently petting with two wide fingers and spreading your folds. A loud exhale leaves her nose when her fingers come back sticky with arousal. “Already wet. Why’re you wet, baby?”
You whimper softly. Natasha’s pulling her pants down, and God, you can’t even look at her cock with the way your cheeks are burning.
Natasha settles on top of you, bracing herself with a hand, the other on your waist. From this close you can see her lips twitch into a smirk, something the low light was hiding. “You wanted Daddy to come to your little bed and fuck you, huh?” but judging by her smile, she already knows the answer. Her hand on your waist squeezes roughly, making you cry out.
Instantly her hand flies to your mouth, clamping tightly, and both of your eyes are wide. “Shh! You want your mom coming in?” Her hips press against yours. You moan softly at the feeling of her nudging at your cunt, leaking pre-cum all over. “Stay quiet.”
And then your stepdad is slipping into you so easily with how wet you are, making you stretch around her, and you’re gasping behind her palm, tears prickling in your eyes. Natasha kisses your forehead softly as she pushes herself in, inch by inch, and then she’s completely in you, soothing an ache deep inside you that you hadn’t even realized you had.
“Good girl,” she says in a hushed whisper against your temple, leaving another kiss. “Took me so well, baby, good girl.” The praise makes your thighs shake a little.
She pulls out just enough, and then she’s fucking you roughly, her other hand still on your waist and groping hard. Your bed creaks with every movement, and you see the furrow of Natasha’s brow as she tries to balance the need to be quiet with the need to be as deep in you as possible.
Your cunt clenches around her with each deep thrust as she drives her hips forward relentlessly, and the bed starts creaking louder, headboard hitting the shitty thin wall behind you, but it's your moans that are too loud, even muffled behind her palm. You’re sure you’re drooling as your stepdad pulls her hand away to grab at your face.
“You wanna fucking wake her up?” Natasha hisses, though not unkindly, but her hips aren’t stopping and the heat in your stomach is getting stronger. Her mouth moves to your neck, nipping against sensitive skin as she slams into you harder, like she wants to fuck all the moans out of you.
“D-Daddy…” you whine high in your throat, then bite your lip to stop a loud moan in your throat, but it’s almost impossible with the way her cock is hitting the perfect spot inside you, the spot that makes your hips lift off the bed involuntarily.
“Shut up,” Natasha says, and then her fingers are prying your mouth open, your jaw hanging as she presses two fingers against your wet tongue for you to suck. She’s still fucking you, a little faster now with desperation, but you know how to do this, how to use your mouth, Natasha taught you, so you suck on her fingers with little whimpers trapped behind them.
The hand at your waist slides to your hip, steadying your bucking with a firm grip as she picks up the pace. Her fingers stifle your desperate moans as your tongue swirls around them. Her cock keeps hitting the spot that makes your limbs tighten and your stomach flutter, and now you definitely know you’re drooling down your chin.
You can tell she’s close from the way her eyes screw shut, her brows knitting. The heat in your abdomen is coming to a head, too, but her hips impossibly speed up, fucking you raw and gasping, and suddenly your orgasm hits you full force, washing over you from head to toe.
Your eyes widen. You moan as loudly as you possibly can with Natasha’s fingers still in your mouth. You’re squeezing around her cock and Natasha lets out a whimper, her lower lip trembling before she lets out one, two soft gasps, and she’s cumming inside you, your legs shaking with the sensation.
She lays on top of you for a moment, gasping for air greedily, before she slowly slides her fingers out of your mouth, saliva cooling in the warm bedroom air.
“Fuck,” Natasha says, her lips twitching into a real grin now. Her cock is still warm, throbbing gently inside you, and the sensation makes you tingle a little. You’re smiling a little too now, even with your lips wet with spit, but Natasha leans down to kiss your mouth clean anyway. When she rests her head on your shoulder, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, you almost want to wrap your legs and flip her over, but you’re falling asleep yourself.
“Was I too loud?” you ask in a sleepy mumble, now much, much quieter. Natasha hums against your skin, and you can almost hear her smile.
i really like coming up with headcanons for stepdad!nat... she's a great dad but also a terrible father, if that makes any sense.
stepdad!nat is a complete horndog. even when your mother's home, she'll corner you in the hallway and you can already tell what the issue is by the way her brows knit. she's not downright perverted, okay, she's just got a high sex drive! that's what she tells you anyway, while she eases you onto your knees and cups the back of your head.
it's not always about her, though. sometimes stepdad!nat presses you against the wall roughly, your back arched against her front while she pulls down your little pyjama shorts and gropes your ass, spreading your cheeks. sometimes she won't even finger you, just doing an 'inspection,' she calls it as she drags her fingers and smears your arousal all over.
stepdad!nat likes coming to your room on lonely nights, maybe if your mother's had a little argument with her, and pressing herself against you when she slides under your pretty sheets. she'll kiss your nape softly, but of course her touches never end there, and by the time she's on top of you she has the courtesy of at least turning your little plushies around before she yanks your panties down.
The request that I didn't follow too well 😅 (sorry)
When Natasha walks into your restaurant for the first time, you don’t think much of it. She’s just another customer for you to serve… albeit a beautiful one.
“Hi! Welcome in! How’s your night treating you?” you ask cheerily, giving her your best smile.
She offers you a huff through her nose and brushes off your question.
Okay, well, you can try and work with that. You persevere despite her lack of receptive response. “Here’s our menu. I’ll be back shortly to take your order,” you tell her, flashing her another smile.
Natasha grabs the menu from you without another word, so you take the hint and give her some space and time to peruse her options.
When you return to her table, she orders one of the simplest things on the menu—a burger, fries, and a water.
She doesn’t address or speak to you any further, ignoring your continued polite attempts at a small, pleasant conversation.
She leaves without a “thank you” or a “have a good night”, exiting the restaurant without a backward glance.
And she doesn’t tip.
Oh, so she’s not just another customer. She’s the fucking worst.
One week has passed since you last saw Natasha, and yet, you’re still ranting about the minimal interaction. You can’t stop; anger and irritation have been present every moment of your shifts since that day no matter what you do.
“She was just so rude,” you say hotly for what is probably the umpteenth time, “Literally, infuriating.”
“Uh huh,” your coworker responds, bored, having heard this basically on repeat.
“I just- I can’t fucking believe the nerve of her.”
“I hear you.”
“The absolute audacity to walk in here, barely say a word to me, and then not leave a tip.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean, I’m a great server, a fucking delight… and, not to mention, I’m downright adorable. No one doesn’t tip me.”
Your coworker has finally had enough of your tirades. “Dude, just let it go,” she sighs exasperatedly, “You’re, like, obsessed with her.”
“The fuck? I am not obsessed with her,” you deny immediately, spitting out the words as if just the thought disgusts you.
“You haven’t shut up about her since you saw her. Just admit you thought she had that super hot aloof and mysterious thing going on and you liked it.”
“I didn’t find her hot!” you argue, taking genuine offense at the fact that your coworker could think something like that about you.
“Sure, you didn’t.”
“No, seriously, I didn’t. I don’t,” you declare vehemently before muttering under your breath, “I swear, if she shows her face again, I’m going to-”
“Well, you’ve got your chance.”
“What?”
“She’s here.” Your coworker nods her head in the direction of where Natasha is, seated at the same table as the last time she was here. “She’s been here. Eavesdropping probably. You haven’t been quiet.”
Your gaze snaps over to Natasha, finding her already staring. One of her eyebrows quirks up as you make eye contact. “You didn’t think to warn me?” you hiss, alarmed, voice finally dropping to a lower volume as you look back at your coworker.
Your coworker just shrugs, unbothered, and then she walks away from you, heading to the back, leaving you alone behind the counter.
Natasha’s still watching you, eyes intense and unmeetable. You’re fleeing to the back after your coworker in just seconds.
You don’t emerge until you’re sure the redhead has left the restaurant, too sheepish and embarrassed to face her. You make your way over to her booth to clean up her dishes, and there, left on the table, is several crumpled bills. It’s the biggest tip you’ve ever received—the biggest tip you’ve ever seen—and, written on the merchant copy of the receipt in sloppy scrawl underneath her signature… ‘Fair enough’.
You don’t know how or why; the whole situation doesn’t make sense to you. You insulted Natasha, and yet she left that huge tip and agreeing note… and she continues to show up, over and over, arriving at the same time every week. She becomes a regular, always coming in during your shifts, always seating herself in your section, and always alone.
Your coworker teases you relentlessly. “She likes you,” she singsongs.
You have to frantically shush her every time, her loudness way too much for the small restaurant, the redhead surely able to overhear. “There’s no way she does,” you reject her statement, “I insulted her. A lot. Multiple times. And she made it clear that she heard me.”
“Yeah, and she also told you that you were right.”
“That doesn’t mean she likes me.”
“Don’t play dumb, and don’t pretend you don’t like her too.”
“How many times do we have to do this. I don’t like her.”
Despite the less-than-respectful-on-her-part first interaction, despite the less-than-respectful-on-your-part second interaction, you two do develop a sort of routine. Natasha sits in the same booth every visit; you memorize her order and put it in with the kitchen before she has to ask. She begins to smile and talk a bit more; you learn that her silences, when present, aren’t impolite.
You don’t want to admit it—because how could your heart possibly betray you like this by fluttering every time you see her stroll through the restaurant doors?—but you can’t keep lying to yourself about how you aren’tbeginning to like her. She’s not totally unpleasant anymore, you guess.
“Your usual,” you say as you deliver the burger, fries, and water glass to Natasha’s table.
She flashes you a small grin, and, like what’s typical for her now, thanks you, her voice soft when she talks. “You always know just what I need.”
You roll your eyes but can’t suppress your own smile. “You ‘need’ the same thing every time. It’s not hard.”
Unconsciously, you find yourself happy that she’s always unaccompanied, with no one in tow, and although you don’t think you’ll ever stop ignoring your coworker’s claims—“Just accept that she has a crush on you”—you’re secretly pleased at being told that perhaps Natasha likes you. Your coworker was right. She really does have a super hot aloof and mysterious thing going on.
It’s a Thursday when Natasha next comes in, which is… weird. She’s a Wednesday patron, a 6:30pm Wednesday patron, to be exact. She’s always on time. So, when she arrives at the restaurant on a different day than normal, at a different time than normal—right before you’re off, actually—and sits at a different table than normal, it’s beyond unexpected.
Your coworker shoots you a confused look when she watches the redhead make her way into her section instead of yours, and although you’re puzzled and perhaps ever so slightly jealous, you technically are supposed to be clocking out in a few minutes, so it’s not like you could serve her anyway.
Maybe she just really wanted another burger earlier than normal, and maybe she just didn’t want to sit by the window tonight.
You can’t help but eavesdrop on Natasha’s order. Will she be switching that up too?
“Can I get you your usual?” your coworker asks her.
Natasha shakes her head. “Not yet,” she answers, “I’m actually waiting for someone this time.”
You falter, heart sinking in your chest in a funny way that you don’t want to acknowledge. She’s on a date. Your eyes flick to the front doors, wondering just when the person meeting with her will be walking through them. You don’t want to be here for that.
You remove your apron and fold it over your forearm with maybe a little too much force, you grab your bag from the back possibly somewhat too roughly, and you make your way out of the back room, heading toward the exit with purpose. You happen to have to pass Natasha’s booth on your way. You don’t make eye contact.
You’re stopped by a hand reaching out to grab your wrist, and you whip around, confused and surprised at being stopped by her.
“Where are you going?” she asks, voice gentle as she tries to soothe your clear agitation.
“I’m off,” you reply, and you can’t help but throw something a bit more bitter her way as well. “But you know that already.” It’s a definitive statement. She’s familiar with your schedule by now; she’s been here enough times to have learned it.
“I do know,” she confirms.
It makes you even angrier, and your annoyance, stemming from jealousy, flares. You open your mouth to shoot back some retort, but she beats you to it.
“Well? Are you just going to stand there? Aren’t you going to sit?”
You freeze, brows furrowing. “What?”
“Table for two today,” she informs you even though you’re well aware, grinning in amusement at how obvious it is that you’re trying to connect the dots.
And then it clicks… and you slowly slip your bag off your shoulder… and you slowly take a seat across from her… and you slowly find yourself smiling instead of frowning in hurt.
Your coworker returns to the table, smirking knowingly, an ‘I so told you so’ expression on her face as she gives you a pointed look. “Your date finallyshow? Ready to order now?” she addresses Natasha.
Natasha nods, turning to face your coworker. “Yeah, I’ll take my usual, and…” She then looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to relay what you want to eat. “Get whatever you’d like. It’s on me.”
You raise an eyebrow. “I work here. I get all my meals for free.”
“I know,” she says playfully, “That’s why it’s on me.”
Summary: You're a stripper, and first met Natasha under...special circumstances.
Warnings: 18+ themes (nothing explicit in this one though)
A/N: Starting a new AU alert! A short introduction to my new two little freaks. Mob!Nat in this AU is very different from my previous one, given that she's much more nonchalant and toxic. Don't have much of this written but I really like the dynamic of these two (down bad R and could not care less Nat :D)
You didn’t hate your job. Sure the guys were sleazy, some of the girls can be…a little toxic, but it paid well. You needed the money to pay your bills and honestly this job takes less of your time and paid more than what you could get outside.
So here you were, stripping for a man in his late thirties, while he sips on a beer bottle and tries his hardest to respect the no touching rule that you just know he’s itching to break. The way his eyes run over your body and the way he palms himself and adjusts on the seat…
Men are all so predictable.
You liked him though, much more than some of the other clients you’ve had.
He comes about twice a month and always calls for a 30 minute private strip tease from you. Sometimes you feel generous and need the extra tip, and you’d let him grab on your tits.
Everything comes with a price for you.
You don’t fucking eat your greens because you liked them, keeping this body in good shape was a chore, one that you didn’t hate, but still a chore nonetheless.
Your hips sway to the music that you let him choose, a slow one that got you teasing more than stripping. He seems to have a particular interest in your ass today, his eyes never leaving it whenever you would turn or grind down on him.
And then it happened.
You heard her before you saw her. The door slamming open and the familiar sight of a gun and a man blazing in. You weren’t even concerned at your lack of clothes, merely scared that you might not make it out tonight.
You hear your client cuss and try to draw his own gun, hands clumsy and face red from embarrassment or fear, you’re not quite sure. He didn't even manage to touch his gun before the man whacked him on the head and knocked him unconscious.
And then you finally saw her.
You were peeking out from the bedside table, eyes firmly set on the man who hauled your client's body onto his shoulder and carried him out. He stopped right at the door, speaking to her.
Red hair.
Leather jacket.
Piercing green eyes staring right back at you.
Fuck, was your first thought.
She is gorgeous, your brain unhelpfully supplied. Not that it mattered, when she was looking at you with furrowed brows.
Gosh, maybe you are taking your last few breaths.
Being in this industry, it was sketchy. People were nasty. Everyone did something illegal, either professionally or personally. So you weren't exactly surprised by tonight's events.
But damn it, you didn't wanna die.
Not today, at least.
She spoke a few sentences to the man, gesturing for him to leave the room with your client.
And then the door shut.
And there were two.
Fuck, again.
"Come on out, sweetheart."
Oh shit, fuck, shit, fuck, were the only words going through your mind right now.
She walked over to the leather chair that your client was sat on earlier, and dropped her gun onto the table right beside it. You distinctly register that your client's wallet is still on the table as well.
Thinking that there really was no other choice for you, you stood up and slowly made your way over to her. Briefly, you felt exposed at your naked body despite being in this state in front of strangers, many times.
She turned and shrugged off her leather jacket, your brain can't help but notice and take in her toned arms and tattoos that peaked out above her collarbone from her shirt's neckline.
Draping the jacket on the back of the leather chair, she started talking to you, "Sorry about the interruption, but he's really good at slipping away so I had to stop the show before he did it again."
You faintly register a slight Russian accent in her voice, but she must've been in the States for long because it's not too obvious.
You give her your stage name when she asks, and with a raised brow, you relented and gave her your first name.
She tested it out, saying it softly with a smirk on her face, and for some god damn reason your heart started beating faster hearing your name from her lips.
What is wrong with me?
She grabs the wallet left on table, "He pay you any good, sweetheart?"
"Sometimes."
"Let's see…man's not broke, that's for sure," she pulls out a stack of hundreds from his wallet and then leaves it all on the table.
Turning around and taking a seat on the leather chair, she finally looks at you. Really looks at you.
She didn't hide the way her eyes were taking in your body, from your hair to the swell of your breasts, down to you curves and back up again. "You're pretty, I like pretty girls. You think you can give me a dance?"
"If you pay me," came out before you even processed the question.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
She laughs, which sounded frankly, quite sexy.
And you think everything is going well until she spoke again, "Of course, how about this…you give me a little performance, and I don't kill you for witnessing whatever that happened just now."
Gulp.
Right.
Definitely not the time for snark and laughs.
"And all the cash you just dig out, I want them too," your mouth is so going to get yourself killed one day.
Natasha smirks, "I like pretty girls with a bit of attitude, deal."
So you walked out the club that day with your life still in tact, and a thousand dollars in your purse.
