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littlyamadeus · 3 months ago

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Do You Know What Today Is?

Pairings: Fire Department Captain!Romanoff x Lieutenant!Female Reader

Word count: 4k

Tags | Warnings: Angst, fluff, death, dirty talk (lots of it), sexual innuendos, sending nudes, you and Nat are just horny shits, talks about having kids

Author's Note: Next fic to be updated next week will be the mob boss series :)))

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⧗

"I love you." She says in the line, it was static but it was all clear to you.

"You tell me that in person." You said, you held the words so you could say it to her in person but it was like an instinct to you to reply back, "I love you more."

"No, I love you more." Her voice came through, softer this time, almost vulnerable.

⧗

Natasha's voice on the other end of the phone was like a soft caress, sending tingles down your spine. Even though she was just kilometers away, the connection you shared was palpable, and you could almost see and feel her smiling through the phone.

"Hi baby," she cooed, her voice warm and intimate. "Do you know what today is?"

Still sleepy and grumpy, you managed to say a quick "no."

She gasped in shock, feeling offended before letting out a whine, like a small child pouting over a secret. "Huuuuh? Whaaat? No idea?"

Eyes still closed, you couldn't help but smile and chuckle, relishing in her cute behavior. You feigned ignorance, playing along with the game you started. "No idea at all, baby. I'm sorry."

She let out a "nooooo" drawn out long and whiney, like a toddler having a tantrum. It was almost comical how childlike she sounded. You couldn't help but burst out laughing over the line, the sound loud and clear in Natasha's ears. It was adorable, the way she was acting like a child, whining and pouting.

"That doesn't sound like my captain," you chided, "and that is definitely not how you sounded last night."

Natasha's whining quickly changed, now with a smirk behind it even you cannot see her face to face, you know that it is what's plastered in her face. "Well, as far as I can recall, it was not me who was whining and crying last night."

Now there she is.

"Oh yeah?" You couldn't help but challenge her, a hint of cockiness in your voice as you shifted in your cold bed, missing your girlfriend's warmth.

"Sorry for leaving you this morning," she sighs, "Work called me early." You didn't miss the groan that she let out after.

"You should've woken me up, Nat. I would've gone with you." You say hazily, still sleepy but you managed to get yourself out of the bed, leaving your phone on top of the duvet covers.

"I don't wanna wake you up, princess. And besides you have a shift in your station today, so rest. But I'll see you later," she smiles and you can feel it, "if you remember what today is." She adds.

"Maybe I need some reminding, captain." You let out a long hum and Natasha's keen instincts picked up on that.

"Baby, what are you doing?"

"Just tryin' to remember…"

"Baby," her voice was undeniably soft and careful in the line, but there was a hint of something darker and more authoritative beneath the surface of that pet name. The tone was subtle, but you knew that it was a warning.

"Yes..? Captain?"

"Baby…" now her tone became dangerously low. "Open your cam." She demanded.

You wanted to laugh as you stood in front of your shared cabinet to get yourself something to wear, but you didn't so she wouldn't suspect a thing. You remained silent and your girlfriend seemed to be really impatient.

"Y/N? I swear to God."

Still, no answers from your end. Then, you let out a moan and a gasp after, then your breath hitched as another fake moan escaped your lips. The sound of your ragged breath filled the line, and you could sense your girlfriend's tension through the phone. She was silent on her line, her jaw clenched, and you could tell she was listening intently. You fought the urge to laugh.

"You know I can tell if you're faking your moans, right?" She could tell you were just playing with her, but she couldn't help but respond to the provocative sounds you were making.

The laughs you have been keeping now escaped your lips, and it echoed through the line, filling your shared room and her ears with the sound. You couldn't help but find it amusing, of course she would immediately know if you're faking your moans having to have nightly routines ending up with you either whining because it's not enough or crying because it's too much. Sometimes, it's both and God, you love those nights.

You took your phone in your hand and quickly opened the camera, flipping the camera to the front-facing mode. You held the phone up in front of your face, grinning shyly into it.

"Hi," you say softly, gently biting down on your bottom lip as you look directly into the camera.

Her voice came through the line, "Hey, printsessa," and her tone was tinged with so much affection.

"I miss you already, baby. So much." You pout slightly as you start to go back and gather the clothes you chose to wear for the day.

"I miss you too."

"I'll visit your work today."

Before your girlfriend could even reply, her co-workers appeared, their voices loud and boisterous through the phone.

"Hey, cap! We bought you some breakfast!" The youngest, Peter announced, holding a tray of coffee and donuts.

You noticed that your girlfriend's attention is already divided, not that you don't like it, but today, you feel like edging, playing…and not sharing her. She was not looking at you, she was smiling at your co-workers as she reached for the food they brought her, and by her angle you could tell that her phone was clutched on her left hand.

"Baby, don't let your phone slip up, I'm naked."

You didn't miss the way your girlfriend mouthed a "fuck," immediately thanking her team and ordering them to get out. But before she could even check her phone to finally focus her attention on you, the call had already ended. She didn't know if it was her accidentally ending the call or it was you. So she checked your private chat to see you sending her a photo, scrunching your nose and teasing the skin just above your nipples.

Lieutenant (You): Hi baby, gonna shower now. I'll go to your station today. I just don't want to have to share your attention…

Captain (Natasha): Baby, I'm here☹️

You: Aww, I was about to let you join me in the shower but I see you're going to have different breakfast.

Natasha: You know you're my favorite breakfast, right?

You: Oh, yeah?

Natasha: Baby, don't be like that please…☹️

You: I'm sorry baby😂 I was just playing. I'll drop by later and bring you lunch, what do you wanna eat?

Natasha: You☹️

You: You cute silly pervert, bye now for real. I love you and I will see you later, xo.

Natasha: I love you moreeeee, my babiecakes!

You: I love you mooooost, my beautiful beautiful hot girlfriend❤️💞

Natasha: Nou, I love you more than most☹️

You: Do you love me more or do I love you more?

Natasha: You love me more…☹️

You: Good girl💞

[Lieutenant sent an attachment]

⧗

You pulled up to the fire station, parking your car near the entrance. As soon as Natasha's co-workers noticed your pick-up, they immediately made their way towards you, their faces lighting up with anticipation. They knew you had a reputation for bringing takeouts for the team, and he was eager to see what you had brought this time.

You gestured to the back of your car, shouting, "I bought you all some lunch!" The others swarmed over enthusiastically, heading straight for the food. Peter, on the other hand, made a beeline straight for the driver's seat.

"Hi LT! Thank you so much for the food!" You couldn't help but find him endearing, he was the youngest among the bunch and there's one time you jokingly told Natasha that you were thinking of adopting him after seeing him cry rescuing a cat stuck on a fence.

"You're welcome, kid. Where's cap?" you inquired as you gathered the food you'd bought for Natasha from the passenger seat.

"Office." He grins, already jumping his way to your trunk to see what you bought for them.

The team surrounded the trunk of your car. As you held a whole lot of stuff in your hands, you managed to wave your fingers back at them, all while holding your phone, wallet, and girlfriend's takeaway. The team shouted words of gratitude, waving back at you as they devoured the food you had so kindly ordered for them.

"You're spoiling them." She remarks, looking at you with amusement and mild chiding as soon as you enter her office as if she's been expecting you to be there which she actually is.

"They're my kids now, you like it or not."

"What's that for?" she pointed at the takeout you were carrying which was her favorite boneless sweet and sour chicken.

"Lunch?" you laughed, before putting your things down her desk. You leaned towards her and kissed her lips.

"I thought I am going to have you for lunch? I was spoiled on what would my lunch be with that photo you sent me." Natasha leaned back in her seat, a smirk playing across her lips as she watched you round her desk. It was a mirror shot of you with your exposed boobs, just for her eyes to see.

You moved swiftly, slapping her shoulder before she could react. You were behind her, your hands massaging the spot you'd just struck. Her posture relaxed slightly under your skilled fingers, a soft sigh escaping her lips despite herself. She cocked an eyebrow, glancing back at you over her shoulder.

"Remind me never to piss off a woman who can rub the tension out of my shoulders in seconds."

Her breath caught as you leaned in close, your weight pressing softly against her back. Your arm remained across her front, effectively trapping her. She could feel your heartbeat against her spine, steady and strong despite the chair slat that boundaries you both.

"I missed you," you pout, then you pressed a kiss on her ears and her cheek.

"Me too," she then caressed your cheek, "I'm hungry," she now declared. And you immediately straightened up to prepare the lunch you bought for her. Before you could even take a step away, she slapped your ass sharply.

"What are you doing?" she snapped playfully.

"Okay, eat real food you pervert." You point your finger at her, walking backwards before she could even sneak up and grab you behind. But she stood and snatched your hand and pulled you to her lap.

You let out a shriek of surprise, your hands instinctively gripping the arms of her chair for support. She smirked, her arms wrapping around your waist to keep you in place. You wiggled on her lap, making her tighten her arms around you. Suddenly, you brought your hand up and smacked her chest playfully.

"Jerk," you muttered, trying not to laugh. Her eyes widened, then she caught your wrist, bringing your hand back down slowly. Then, she leaned in, resting her jaw on your shoulder. Her arms remained wrapped protectively around you, holding you close. You could feel her breath against your neck, warm and gentle. For a moment, she just sat there, enjoying the simple comfort of having you in her lap.

"Do you want kids?" Her voice was soft, almost hesitant. She rested her chin on your shoulder, awaiting your response. Her arms tightened slightly around you, almost as if she was bracing herself for your answer. "Real kids, okay? Normal ones. Not those big assed kids outside." She gestured vaguely towards the door with a roll of her eyes, eliciting a soft chuckle from you both.

Your body relaxed against hers, your arm clung behind her neck, "Yeah, I want kids," you answered. "Like two or three. Not too many, though. I don't want my house to be chaotic." You wiggled slightly on her lap, making her smirk again. "What about you?"

"Of course I want a…" she trailed off puckering her lower lip, thinking, "At least four mini you running around the house, so I have someone to be chaotic with," she laughed softly, then added teasingly, "God help me if they have your mouth too."

You gasped genuinely offended, your hand flying to your chest. "I am not that loud!" you protest. "I hate you." You tried to unclasped her tight hands that were gripping each other, locking you in her embrace but she just laughed heartily.

"I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry!" she apologized between laughs.

"I will not give you my babies." You threatened. "And four?! Are you kidding me?!" Oh, how many kids your girlfriend wanted you will give it to her even if she wanted an entire football team.

Natasha choked on her laughter, her eyes widening in mock horror at your threat. "Whoa, whoa, no need to withhold my future children just because I teased you a little." You just rolled your eyes on her, turning your face away. She leaned in, nuzzling your neck gently. "Come on, you know I'm just messing with you," she cooed softly. "Besides, who else is going to give me those adorable mini-me's if not you?" She kissed your cheek again, trying to soften your resolve.

You sighed dramatically, your stern expression crumbling. "Fine, fine! I'll give you your stupid cute mini-me's," you muttered, trying not to smile. Inside, you were secretly delighted that she wanted your children so badly as much as you wanted hers.

"Did you see the dress I bought for you?"

"Nope," you say, reaching towards the take out that was on the other side of her desk. "Where?"

Natasha's eyes lit up mischievously as she saw your confusion while you unwrap the food. "In the closet, hanging all pretty."

You were so focused on unwrapping the food that you didn't notice her watching you so intently. Already imagining her life with you, not that she doesn't have it with you right now because you basically live together. But the future that lies for the both of you.

You gave her a gentle nudge with your elbow when you noticed her lost in thoughts, "When I go back later, I'll look for it," you say, your voice casual and teasing. Then, you picked up a piece of chicken from the takeout container, "Here you go," you said softly, bringing the chicken to her lips. Natasha opened her mouth obediently, her eyes never leaving yours as she took a bite.

You both eat together, you sitting comfortably on her lap while she gets fed you. A win is a win.

"I am excited to see you in it." Natasha reached out, puckering her lips invitingly towards you as she repeated herself playful yet sultrily.

You leaned in, pressing a quick, playful kiss to her puckered lips before pulling back with a smirk. "Hm, maybe you're just excited to rip it out of me."

"I really want to watch you eat because I know you won't be touching this once I stepped out of that door," you said softly, clean hands cupping her cheek, thumb gently caressing her skin. "But I need to get to my station in thirty, baby."

"You can't even watch me eat," she retorted suggestively, making you laugh and roll your eyes. You finally decided you'd had enough of her teasing and lifted yourself off her lap.

"Baby! Where are you going?" She laughed loudly.

You licked your fingers clean as you stared directly at Natasha, sitting there watching you intently. She swallowed hard, her eyes flicking between your eyes and your fingers. You then grabbed a wet wipe, cleaning your hands thoroughly. She just watched you prepare and fix yourself.

"Do you now remember what today is?"

You strut towards her, a playful smirk on your face. She leaned in as you did, you captured her lips in a quick, teasing kiss. "About that, I need some reminding, yeah?" you say, pulling back and grabbing your things sprawled on her desk, clearly ready to leave.

"Well, I'll remind you tonight then."

"Aye, captain."

"With that dress on."

"Got it cap."

"I love you, Y/N." She said softly before you could grip her doorknob.

"I love you more, baby."

"No, I love you more." She shook her head, grinning as she repeated it back to you.

It is a competition that has become a running joke between you two—well, it's actually not a running joke because you both meant every word. Every time you said it, she'd say it louder and more dramatically.

"I love you most." You say confidently. You put a kissy face on her before you shut the door behind, knowing you won again.

⧗

The call came through on your radio, the crisp voice of the dispatch officer crackling through the speaker. "Fire Department, this is Central dispatch. We have a report of a large fire 18 kilometers north of your station. First responders have arrived on scene, but the situation is escalating rapidly."

You immediately switched to the team channel on your radio. "All units, we have a call for a large fire 18 klicks north. Gear up." You paused, gathering your thoughts, you still have a date tonight.

Sirens blaring, lights flashing, your engine roared to life as you sped towards the 18 kilometer mark. It was late afternoon, the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting an eerie orange glow amidst the billowing smoke. Shadows lengthened as you approached the fiery scene, the daylight fading prematurely due to the thick plume choking the sky.

As your company rounded the final bend, the first thing to catch your eye was the familiar logo of your girlfriend's station emblazoned on the side of one of the fire engines. Your gut clenched as you realized she was likely already inside the burning structure, doing what she did best—bringing people out alive.

You jumped down from your truck, gear in hand, and made a beeline for the command post set up by the first responders. You spotted Peter on the other station, his face grimy with soot and sweat. He nodded at you as you approached, recognizing the elite team's arrival.

"Lieutenant." He's definitely not a kid on missions.

"Captain inside?" You asked, your voice steady but urgent and the kid nodded.

"Yes, she's leading the team through the east wing. We've got multiple civilians trapped on the upper floors." He layed out.

Not that you're not used to this kind of situation. You were used to seeing danger, used to making split-second decisions that often meant life or death because that is the nature of your work—fire. But you just couldn't help but be worried about your girlfriend.

Suddenly, the main entrance burst open, and firefighters emerged, hunched over civilian forms they carried carefully in their arms. The scene repeated multiple times—firefighters appearing, offloading their human burdens onto paramedics, then disappearing back into the hellish building. Dead bodies were retrieved but most are alive.

"Gonna get inside." Before you could even put your mask on Peter called out to you.

"It's cap."

When you took the walkie, laughter, unexpected and sweet, filled the line, cutting through the heavy feeling in your chest.

"Hey, lieutenant." Her voice, though strained, teased you. You could almost feel her smile on the line.

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head despite knowing she couldn't see you. "Gonna get in and get you out, cap."

"No. I'll be out soon. I can handle myself. That's an order, lieutenant."

"Well, I hope you get out soon. If I remember you still need to remind me what today is." Her laughter echoed through the walkie, a sound that was both reassuring and irritating in its stubbornness.

"You think I'd miss our anniversary for anything less than burning buildings?" She asked, her voice muffled as she coughed. "I'll be out soon."

"Make sure of that or I'll have our table set up right outside this building."

The walkie crackled with static before her voice came through, low and serious. "Y/N?" She paused, then blurted out, "Do you still want to have kids with me?"

Your response was immediate and certain. "More than anything," you said softly. "You said you want mini me's but I just know they'd be brave like you, like their mama. I want to have your kids, Nat."

She needed to hear that.

"I saw the dress," you rushed out when you didn't hear her answer from the other line. "You better see me in it."

"I better see you without it." Now there she is. You let out a giggle that you girlfriend heard on her end.

She needed to hear that laugh of yours.

"I love you, Y/N." She says in the line, it was static but it was all clear to you.

"You tell me that in person." You said, you held the words so you could say it to her in person but it was so hard to not say it back, "I love you more."

"No, I love you more." Her voice came through, softer this time, almost vulnerable.

You didn't challenge her. You didn't push, didn't fight, didn't argue back that you loved her more. You let her win this time—you let her love you more.

⧗

Her voice was soft and husky over the phone, never failing to send shivers down your spine. "Do you know what today is?" she asked slowly. "Of course not, because it's my secret but you'll know later, babe. Don't worry."

"Silly," you muttered, wishing she heard you so she'd laugh that infectious laugh. But she didn't.

Then, you heard the knock on your door. You quickly grabbed your phone together with your purse and walked to the door to see your girlfriend's sister, Yelena.

"Wow," she said, a smirk on her lips.

"You think she'll like it?" you couldn't help but ask.

Yelena laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, she definitely will," she said, shaking her head. "She probably already has a hundred little jokes and innuendos running through her mind, only for your ears. And when she bought that dress, she is already drooling just imagining you wear it." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Let's go?"

The drive was quick and silent and one thing you know is you are already standing up in eyes of so many people on you. You were wearing the dress Natasha had told you she bought for you out clung to your curves perfectly, the plunging neckline accentuated by the delicate silver necklace she'd given you. The stilettos, also her choice, clicked loudly against the wooden floorboards with each step you took.

"Lieutenant."

"Sir." You recognized the chief of the fire department in your state.

"You're the only one we're waiting for." You just offered a curt nod. You can still feel so many eyes boring on you.

Well, how could they not? You're the only one wearing red in the sea of black.

You walked down the aisle, heels clicking rhythmically on the polished floor. As you reached the casket, your face immediately fell upon her peaceful face, her hair was braided like she'd always loved. Memories flooded back—her laughter, her smile, her voice.

"Well, I guess I love you more because you weren't able to say it to me in person." Your breath caught in your throat, the irony not lost on you that her silence had left those precious words unspoken forever.

You cannot look at her, not like this. Not when you know you'll never see those beautiful pair of green anymore. Not when you will always feel cold at night without her having to ground and hold you. Not when you'll settle listening to her voice through the voice records you had retrieved during your phone calls with her.

With trembling hands, you finally reached out and closed the casket lid. The soft thud echoed through the silent room, each click of the latch sealing her away seemly louder than the last. A single tear finally spilled over, carving a path down your cheek. Natasha's co-workers step forward, one of them was Peter, bearing the national flag. With reverence, they carefully placed it atop the casket, the red, white and blue stars threaded the thick fabric.

Precisely at the moment the flag was properly rested, your arm moved in a fluid, practiced motion. Time seemed to lose all meaning as you stood there, arm extended in a steady salute. You didn't waver, didn't move. Your eyes remained locked onto the flag-draped casket, seeing not just a symbol of her service, but the woman you loved.

Today, your fire has gone forever. It was a pain that seared through your very soul, etching and knowing that this very day—you lost the love of your life.

You will always remember what today is.

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littlyamadeus · 3 months ago

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Good Luck, Babe

Chapter 5: White Lies | 5.1k

Summary: The once secret, a forbidden love hidden from the world. Those stolen moments together had been thrilling, but ultimately, drove the person you truly love away from you. But when she left, she didn't just leave you; she also left you a part of herself that would constantly remind you of her for the rest of your life. This fragment of her essence became an indelible mark on your soul, shaping the course of your life in ways you never could have imagined.

You know what they say, when someone leaves, someone else will come.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: angst, jealousy, lots of lying but with a reason (? you tell me guys), r being a sucker for a basic act of human decency eww, your daughter is a cute innocent snitch, Yelena being a real sister-in-law (manipulative Yelena), Natasha is FUCKED tiptoeing at the edge of a knife, new character unlocked

Author's Note: Hi, I might stay for a while for I am in a challenge with a tiger. So please, let me know your thoughts and opinions about this chapter.

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

Natasha took it upon herself to pick Aliah up from school. She took a day off work just to make up for missing her little girl's couple of days ago.

Even from miles away, she can already see and know her daughter. And Aliah was holding hands with another woman and there was another kid clinging to the other hand of the stranger with a takeout carrier cup hanging on her fingers. Aliah spotted her Mama, her face lighting up with pure joy. "Mama!" she screamed, breaking free to run towards Natasha.

Carol and Monica followed behind Aliah, Then, the blonde's eyes immediately zeroed in on Natasha's left hand. As much as she can remember, she heard the office clerk call you Mrs. Romanoff, meaning, you are married and if she's not mistaken right now, this is exactly the woman you're married with—not wearing a ring like the one she noticed you were wearing the first time she saw you. She was about to introduce herself when Natasha already told her daughter that they will leave.

Natasha saw her, yes, but she didn't acknowledge her presence, instead focusing solely on her daughter because that's what she's here for. She hated meaningless chit chat, especially with strangers. And from afar, Natasha already sensed a small talk that this woman will try to pull.

And of course, Carol, not oblivious on how Natasha directly ignored her, didn't push. Instead, she leaned down to your daughter. "Aliah, make sure you tell your mommy to come to the PTA meeting next week, alright? And tell her I said hi." She winked, making the kid giggle.

Tell you she said hi? Who does this woman think she is?

Without wanting to overthink about what the woman said, Natasha abruptly scooped up Aliah, lifting her easily with her right arm. Her small hands wrapped around her mother's neck as Natasha pulled the trolley bag behind them, heading towards the car park.

"Mama, where's mommy!" Aliah sings, planting kisses all over Natasha's face.

"She's home, bub." She paused, thinking about the immediate questions in her mind that needed immediate answers as well. "Can I ask who the lady was a while back?"

"Oh, the one asking about mommy?" The kid pointed out, "that's Monica's auntie Cawol!" She exclaimed, "like auntie Yeye!"

Natasha's voice cracked slightly as she asked another question, "Is she friends with Mommy?" She hated how much she wanted to know the answer.

"Auntie Cawol bings mommy delicious hot choco sometimes." All the time actually, the day after she first met you, the next day after that, then the days that followed.

So that's why the woman has a takeout cup carrier because it was for you, she internally confirmed. Natasha might be a snub but she secretly observes and takes notes of things.

She didn't understand why she felt threatened when she first saw the woman holding hands with her daughter. It made no sense. The sight of another woman making her little daughter smile? Okay, it sent a little pout in her face. But when the woman indirectly asks of you? And not to mention the beverage she brought just for you?

She felt that familiar ache in her chest, igniting that dormant feeling one she thought she'd left behind a long time ago.

She's internally denying it.

But the jealousy burns in her chest, flaring its way up to her throat.

⧗

Natasha barely even makes it to the door before she hears a familiar laugh echoing through the living room. Her heart sinks, and she freezes, her hand on her daughter's small one.

"Mom? What are you doing here?" She asks, trying to keep her voice steady and calm, despite the chaos swirling inside her after confirming that the laugh was indeed her mother's. She found her in the living room sitting with you.

Melina stares at her daughter dead in the eye, then turns to you, whispering, "See? I told you that will be the first thing she will say to me." She chuckles softly. You shyly nodded, but no laughs escaped you after seeing the flash of panic in Natasha's face. She was about to reach her mother and kiss her when suddenly her mother lifted her finger in the air, stopping her midway from totally getting closer towards her.

"I'm not your wife," Melina says firmly to her own flesh and blood.

"What?" Natasha confusingly asked, making her mother take a deep sigh.

"I am not your wife, I am your mother. You don't get to kiss me first now." Then, her head gestured slightly towards you.

The message is clear—kiss your wife first, because that's your priority now.

You freeze on the spot, before you could even process what your mother-in-law meant, Natasha, with no hesitation, walks towards you while you instinctively take a step back. Your breath hitches when she stops in front of you and leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. The kiss is so close and so brief that it feels like a whisper of a moment, barely there. Your cheek tingles where her lips touched, but it's over before you can fully register it. You blink, almost convinced that it didn't happen at all.

It was the first time she kissed you again and God she did it so naturally like she has not been distant to you—not just distant, she has been a lot towards you and you can't actually name them now.

"C'mon you can do better than that."

" 'Ma…" Natasha groans like a kid. "What are you doing here?"

"Where's my little grandbaby?" Melina now asks, then she turns, moving towards where her granddaughter is, completely ignoring Natasha's question. "Come here, sweet pea!" Her eyes fill with unshed tears as she looks down at Aliah. She's never seen her granddaughter before, only pictures Natasha sends sparingly. She kneels down, opening her arms wider. "Hi malysh, can you say babushka?"

"Bab'shka…" Aliah repeats shyly, looking up at Melina with big curious eyes. She's processing the information, her tiny mind trying to comprehend what the word meant. Melina kneels down, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand.

"That's grandma, bub. Go." Natasha gently prompts. Your daughter, despite her initial shyness, slowly reaches out her arms towards her grandmother. Melina beams and carefully takes her from Natasha, pulling her close and rocking her gently.

"You didn't tell me you and Y/N got back from honeymoon a week ago."

Natasha's eyes flickered to yours for a moment and you sinked on her gaze.

When Natasha's mother got here, you discovered some things you didn't know yourself. Hell, you didn't even know who she was, yes, you've seen photos of her but it was a long time ago. You quickly figured out that she knew nothing about the truth—no honeymoon, no happy marriage. She sees you as a normal, happy newlywed daughter-in-law and you decided to keep it that way…for some reason.

And Natasha realized all this, your cover up for her. Making your marriage seem normal and perfect just like what she would always tells her mother during phone calls after she said that you were jetlagged and slept the night after your wedding when reality is you never really got a time alone with her after the ceremony or when she said you were such a good cook, cooking meals for the two of you instead of ordering to the hotel when in fact, she didn't even bat an eye when you try to hand her your made with love meals.

She swallowed hard, feeling another emotion she hadn't expected—shame and guilt.

"I'm sorry, 'ma."

But your mother-in-law is too focused on her granddaughter now. "Posmotri na etot malen'kiy persik!" (Look at this little peach!) She laughs, lifting your daughter high. "She's the spitting image of Natasha when she was a baby, Y/N!" She squeaked as she looked at you, completely unaware of the tension between you and Natasha or the secrets you're keeping from her. "But the nose honey, it's definitely yours Y/N."

You let out a few light chuckles before excusing yourself to prepare them food—excusing yourself to get away from the burning look of your wife. Melina nods, distracted by cooing over Aliah. While Natasha's eyes never left you until you disappeared, her mother curiously eyed her.

"Pochemu ty prosto stoish' tam?" (Why are you just standing there?)

"Chto?" (What?)

"Pomogi svoyey zhene!" (Help your wife!)

Without wanting another hiss from her mother, she followed you to the dining kitchen.

You were arranging food onto the plates but then your hands froze mid-air when you saw Natasha. You turn slowly, putting the plate down, afraid that you will drop the expensive porcelain.

"What did you tell her?"

You can feel your lip trembling at her question. You avoid looking directly at the redhead, your hands twitching slightly as you fidget with your fingers. You see her walking towards you and it makes you swallow hard, she could be angry—God, you're not sure.

"I…I…" you swallowed, "I don't know about anything she s-said but I…I just went on with it. She asked me about our honeymoon in Vegas, the cooks I do…I, uhm…" Your eyes never left the tiled ground and Natasha is getting a little too close to every word you say. You let out a shaky breath, glancing briefly at her as you take a step back. "I didn't say anything that will get her…" Your back hit the kitchen counter, you cannot get away from her now. "I can still remember you t-telling me about her condition back in college..."

You trailed off, you could've spilled the whole damn truth if you wanted to, Natasha thought—but you didn't.

She breathes out slowly, cringing, her mind racing now that you know about the lies she's been hiding you and telling her mother—the constant excuses, the fabricated stories, the careful manipulation…

She felt sick to the stomach, but she had to do all of it.

"Natasha, pozhaluysta, day Y/N peredokhnut'." (Natasha, please, give Y/N a break) Natasha's heart nearly stops at her mother's words as she enters the dining room with Aliah wrapped around her arms. "I just got to spend time for the first time with my baby and you two are already out here to make another one?"

She takes a deliberate step back from you, her mind racing with guilty thoughts. Then, she forces a strained laugh, exchanging an uneasy glance with you.

"We're still planning about that, 'ma."

As you hear Natasha's word right in front of you, your mouth opens slightly in astonishment. You swallow hard, processing them. Is this yet another fabrication from her? Smooth lie. Her ability to deceive so effortlessly sends a chill down your spine, even as you marvel at her composure under pressure.

"Y-yeah…" you played along, forcing a smile.

⧗

The table is set with steaming food, Melina eating happily across from you, Aliyah giggling non-stop beside her. While Natasha sits rigidly to your left, which is new by the way. She wouldn't actually sit beside you not until her mom suspiciously asked why she's sitting away from her wife. You're acutely aware of the distance—it's the same distance she's put between you for months now. Just as you're about to take your first bite, Melina breaks the silence.

"Natasha, why didn't you tell me you cut your honeymoon short?" Her voice drips with barely concealed disappointment as she addresses her daughter. "You know, it hurts a bit because I could've visited you sooner. I could've finally met my granddaughter and my daughter-in-law. First, you had a rushed wedding and I wasn't able to make it, and now this?" She shakes her head, her eyes dimming slightly. "I'm your mother, Natasha."

She was not upset about the rushed wedding itself, nor the shocking news of Natasha that she has a 3-year-old granddaughter. What truly pains her is that she missed seeing her daughter marry the person she loves.

Natasha's voice is barely above a whisper, her eyes downcast as she manages to choke out a single phrase.

"I'm sorry, 'ma."

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, you catch a glimpse of Natasha's face, jaw clenched, eyes shining with unshed tears. For a moment, you see a vulnerability in her that you haven't witnessed ever since, she really has a soft spot for her mother like what you had noticed and taken note of on her back in college.

The awkwardness is amplified by the fact that, in this charged atmosphere, it feels impossible to just simply reach out and to stop Natasha's leg from shaking.

Suddenly, her mother's expression softens, and she turns her warm smile towards you, completely catching you off guard since she just caught you looking at her as she lay her disappointment on her daughter. "You're lucky you married Y/N, she's the purest person I've met in my life." Her voice becomes softer, almost tender as she continues, clearly trying to bridge the awkwardness. "She almost passed out from nervousness when I just stood in front of her and stared at her for like a minute."

You laugh with her mother, but just subtle since Natasha remained stiff beside you. She forced a smile, a smile with her eyes clouded in guilt and nervousness.

"I wonder why I didn't meet you back then, Y/N. Especially during graduation, you two are already together during that time, right?" She asks, "But yeah, my Natasha has always been secretive, but goodness, hiding this fine lady with me? Nat?" Melina leans back in her chair, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she gestures towards you with an open hand.

Well…the truth is that you weren't able to meet her because you had to have dinner with your ex-boyfriend's family at that time. And that her daughter, Natasha had practically dragged you to the court after meeting her daughter in the store with the threat that she will take her from you and that you will never see her ever again. Okay, maybe you were exaggerating a bit there but that's how you imagined it to be.

"You know," Melina begins again, you are practically squirming on your seat right now, "Her father and I actually had a bet. We said one day we'll wake up and find out Natasha was married." She chuckles, the sound filled with fondness and a touch of disbelief. "And he was right. Here you are, her beautiful wife, sitting right before my eyes. I actually just never thought of my baby being secretive to her mama."

Natasha's heart races as she listens to her mother's innocent words. Each laugh, each innocent comment feels like a knife twisting in her gut. She's terrified—terrified that something will slip up and will expose the web of lies she's spun.

"I wish you could have met Alexei, Y/N. He would have loved you. And especially Aliah, he would have adored this little Natasha."

You smiled genuinely at her words but you've never heard anything about Natasha's father ever since you were together back then, only her mom. And her not bringing him up already says a lot.

Meanwhile, Natasha cringes internally at the mention of her father. The name alone brings back a tidal wave of unresolved emotions—resentment, distance, and a deep-seated frustration. She was always told she took after him, a phrase that stung every time, as if being like her father was an insult. The hatred Natasha feels towards her father is a cold, bitter thing that has only grown stronger with his absence, even in death. She resents him for leaving a void that no amount of distance could fill, for being the reason her mother's eyes sometimes fill with unshed tears. But of course, her mother has always been a martyr, always trying to hide everything that Natasha never failed to see or figure out.

You were about to reach the bowl of rice across you when Natasha's long, calloused fingers wrapped around the rice bowl's handle first.

"Rice?" she asked and you blink rapidly, stunned into temporary silence. It's the first unguarded, almost tender action she's shown towards you ever since. Your mouth opens and closes wordlessly, trying to process the simple yet monumental gesture.

"Uh, y-yeah…" you say dumbly. God—it was a fucking simple act for fuck's sake, she was just reaching something for you, and here you are, flying with the butterflies in your stomach.

As quickly as the butterflies had appeared, you remind yourself to keep your feet on the ground. This is Natasha, after all—the woman who has been nothing but distant and guarded since you both said "I do" the same woman who threatened to take your daughter away from you. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the sudden flutter in your chest.

You reach for the bowl, your fingers brushing against the warm ceramic. Just as you're about to lift it out of her hands Natasha plated the rice onto your own plate.

"I got it."

A faint blush now stains your cheeks as you watch her carefully arrange the rice on your plate.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling a little breathless. "Thank you…" You can't help but hate yourself internally, feeling ridiculous for blushing over such a simple gesture that you know is just for a show.

The kiss and now this one. It's just a show.

"So sweet, Natasha. I hope you put some on mine too."

"Yeye!" Aliah nearly jumps out of her skin at the sight of her aunt.

Yelena smirks mischievously as she sees her sister's face like she actually saw a ghost. She hoists Aliah onto her hip effortlessly. The little girl giggles loudly, wrapping her chubby arms around her aunt's neck.

"Hi, 'ma." Yelena struts over to where Melina is seated, stealing a quick kiss on her mother's cheek.

"You're late."

"I'm sorry." She put Aliah back to her seat, tickling her a bit before settling beside her. "Can I have the rice too? Sestra?" Yelena playfully pouts. She bats her eyelashes mockingly, Natasha glares at her, her expression cooling as she hands her sister the bowl without a word. If her mother weren't here she would've thrown it on her.

"Mommy, toys…" your daughter suddenly whined, you slightly panicked, that's one of the signs your daughter is about to throw a fit.

"Baby, they're in my room," you say gently, not wanting to trigger her.

"Your room?" Melina suddenly interjects, joining the conversation of you and your daughter. "You don't share room with Natasha?"

"Yeah, you two don't share a room?" Yelena asks with a faux pout directed to her sister even though she knows that you both don't.

You and Natasha panic internally. Just as you think of something to answer, your daughter declares, "Mommy has big room!" in a loud, innocent voice. You freeze, feeling the color drain from your face.

"We...uh, prefer our own space, 'Ma," Natasha says smoothly, her voice steady despite the nervousness, she even managed to smile while knowing that what she said is not the answer that her mother wants to hear.

"I…uhm," you looked up from your plate to Natasha, "I work at night, uhm I teach language. It was my side job even before I took a break from my original work so I…yeah. I need my personal space too." You lied, you are basically unemployed right now since your leave doesn't have any pay. And Yelena looked at you suspiciously and confusingly at why you were helping her sister to cover up. But your mother-in-law was having none of that.

"No, that's not how it works. You two are married. You need to be together, not sleeping apart because of work." It was directed to Natasha, "You should not let Y/N work."

"That's true, times two." Yelena seconds.

"And Aliah is just 3, Natasha. You slept with me and your papa until you were 6, and Yelena until she was 9."

"Mom, you don't need to say that information…" Yelena now groans having been exposed. "But with this li'l gremlin around Natasha and Y/N won't have their fun time. Right?" You look away with Yelena's suggestive comment, blushing shamelessly.

Melina seems to have not moved on from what she had discovered and tsks. "I can't believe this, you two, you need to be intact and that won't happen if you're sleeping in a different room."

For the sake of the topic to end, Natasha spoke.

"I'll have her stuff moved to mine, 'ma. Don't worry now."

Yelena suddenly winks at you discreetly. The gesture is quick and subtle, almost missed entirely if you weren't paying close attention. The wink seems to hold a hint of something but you didn't mind it and continued your meal.

"You know," Yelena now begins, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "Natasha has been nothing but a good and sweet wife 'ma." She nods seriously, her eyes crinkling at the corners as if she genuinely believes this. Melina from being disappointed now smiles indulgently, completely fooled by her daughter's words.

Your mother-in-law's eyes shine with affection as she looks at Natasha. "Your sister has always been sweet, Yelena," she agrees, completely unaware of the underlying tension between her two daughters—well, three. Natasha's jaw tenses even more, her left hand tightening into fists underneath the table that you wanted to reach and hold it in yours.

"Oh, yes, absolutely 'ma!" Yelena responds enthusiastically, pretending to be in complete agreement. "I'm the only person she's not sweet with, you know sister's love." She laughs, "But to Y/N? She is so sweet," Yelena continues, laying it on thick. "Always faithful and kind to her lovely wife. Right, Y/N?"

You look to Yelena, almost choking behind your glass of water and to Melina who is actually waiting for your confirmation. "She's always...caring and l-loving to m—us." You stutter slightly, having a hard time finding the proper words to say. Internally, you cringe at your own words. Not that they're lies because Natasha may have not been caring, loving…and faithful to you, but she has been a great mother to your daughter.

But you're not going to lie, you got triggered with the memories of Natasha with another woman.

Natasha picks at her food, her movements mechanical as she tries to appear nonchalant despite the heavy weight on her shoulders. She forces herself to take small bites, chewing slowly to avoid drawing attention to her barely touched plate. The knot in her stomach tightens with every second and word that passes, especially now that her sister is here to double the tension.

"I just doubt Natasha could make any woman cry," her mother says confidently, "She's too soft. She couldn't even hurt a fly!"

Yelena suddenly lets out a loud cough, her face turning beet red. She hacks violently, making everyone at the table stare at her. You blinked rapidly with what your mother-in-law just said and on Yelena, who you think was doing it on purpose. You notice that Natasha hasn't looked up from her plate ever since her sister arrived. Her shoulders are tense as she stabs her fork into her food with more force than necessary. You can practically feel the anger radiating off her.

Then, suddenly your daughter adds up for the love of God.

"Mommy was kwaying." She pointed at you.

You panicked and let out an awkward laugh, "What-I was not...that's not true. I didn't cry!" You say quickly, avoiding. You look down at your daughter, who's tilting her head slightly, her innocent eyes studying you. She puckers her brows, confused. The same look she gave you that night when you broke down in front of her, you opened your mouth then closed it, you sighed nervously, "Baby…m-mommy was just tired that time, right?" You say carefully to try and make her agree with you.

"But you say here hurts." Aliah points at her tiny chest. The table goes completely silent. All eyes looking at you, but not Natasha.

"When did this happen, baby?" Yelena leans to the kid, "Like when..." She pauses dramatically, looking directly at her sister who finally dared to glare at her, "...when did mommy say she was hurt?"

"When mama was not hew fow dinnah!"

"Oh…" Yelena nods slowly, then tilts her head slightly, her gaze never leaving her sister. "Your mama was having a meeting at that time, bunny."

What a great reminder…

"And I was...I was just fine that time, I was just tired, that's all." You hurriedly add, nodding and smiling brightly at your mother-in-law, hoping to deflect the attention and tension and you feel like she actually bought it.

"What's so important with that meeting that you're going to ditch family dinner, Natasha?" Melina tsks.

"Yeah, that's true Nat." Yelena adds up with taunting look on her face. "But don't worry, 'ma. I know from now on Natasha won't miss dinner with her family," she says, making your daughter giggle and look at her mama, "right, Nat?"

Natasha eyed her innocent daughter and forced a tight smile, her voice dry from not talking, "Of course, sweetie. Mama will always be here for dinner from now on." She now glances at Yelena, her smug expression making her blood boil beneath her forced smile. She knows exactly what her sister was doing.

And her sister, in fact, did not stop.

"What's the date today? 23…in 4 days you two will be in two months of marriage. Right?" she eyes you and smiled, then she turned her focus on her sister, who has been her target since she arrived. "Right, Nat?"

"Yeah," Natasha simply said, jaw clenching, fingers twitching.

"Y/N, you know Nat told me she had plans for that day." She winked at you again, but you knew that there were no plans and you know full well what your sister-in-law is doing now.

Melina's excited inquiries only make the situation worse. "So, what's the big surprise? What is my sweet daughter planning?" Yelena's grin widens as she watches Natasha squirm, knowing full well that there's no surprise, only empty promises and lies. But she wanted to see what her sister would do about it, if she would deny or go on with it.

"Mama, Nat is secretive, you know that. But I'm sure she'll tell you about it. Verno (Right), Nat?"

"Yes, 'ma. Not a secret this time." Natasha said with a smile, quickly looking at you before settling on her mother's. The hair on your body straightened with how casually and easily she said it like it's all true that you hated her for a second. And that smile she gave you? God, you really hated her.

"See? Smooth…" liar, Yelena wanted to add.

"Aww that's really sweet, I am excited! Maybe I can help too!" her mother clap.

You sit there, your emotions a tangled mess. You don't know whether to feel concerned for Natasha as she's clearly uncomfortable and angry, you can't name it. Or get frustrated with Yelena for putting her in this situation with your mother-in-law that is completely unaware of every tension and lies or maybe not? Because some part of you believes that maybe Natasha deserved all this, to be put on edge, to be targeted, to be somehow called out on what she has been doing to you.

The dinner table feels like a battlefield, and you're stuck in the crossfire.

And Natasha is walking in a minefield—minefield that is solely for her.

"Do you have some coke Y/N? Any soda?" Yelena asks.

"Uh, wait—"

"No, I got it. Just tell me where your stock is."

"There's one in the fridge."

Yelena rises from the table, grabbing her glass to refill it with soda from the kitchen. Then, Natasha follows through and quietly slips into the kitchen, she immediately marches over to Yelena, who is calmly pouring herself a glass of soda, and suddenly reaches out, grabbing Yelena's arm in a firm grip.

"Did you make mama come here?"

She put the glass to the counter and removed Natasha's hand from her arm. Her eyes never leaving hers, "Nah, she just wanted to finally see her granddaughter and the woman her daughter married. And we both know you have been denying her that, Natasha." She says it with a mocking pout.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

The blonde turned around to the counter to continue filling her glass with soda, unfazed, "I like what you did there, Nat. After all my taunting and hints, something that mama is not aware of, just me, you, and Y/N. You still managed to smooth your fucking way ou—" Before Yelena could even get her glass Natasha grabs her arm and whirled her around so that they are both facing each other, then she snatched her shirt collar aggressively.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Natasha seethed in anger, her voice was low and shaking.

"Me?" Yelena let out a humorless laugh, "I'm not the one behaving like a saint like I actually care about my wife in front of my sick mother. I am not the one who has been lying about my perfect marriage life to my sick mother," her mocking smile grew wider when she saw how her sister's arm flinched, she was going to hit her. "Chill, sestra. The loving and caring you is disappearing there."

"Fuck you." Natasha spat dangerously, her lips trembling in contained anger.

"Fuck me?" Yelena asks shockingly in a mocking way, "Fuck you!" She bites, "I can't believe how Y/N still chose to cover up for you after what you've been doing to her. And I can't believe how you can still fucking swallow knowing what she would do for you." Yelena growls into gritted teeth, "Now tell me that she fucking deserves every treatment you give her." She shoves Natasha's hands away from her viciously. "You're disgusting," she spits. "Did you hear what your daughter said? I was right, right? Your daughter saw her mother hurt. You cheated and Y/N saw it but she still sticks up for you even when you don't deserve it."

Only if Yelena knew what happened between you and Natasha that night. What Natasha did after and what you let her do to you.

Natasha can only take a deep breath, stepping back, trying to rein in her anger. The guilt is starting to set in as well. Then, her sister steps forward, her breath hot against Natasha's face, threatening.

"So if I have to drag mama to make you treat her right, then I will do it. Now, shall we get back since you still have a surprise to plan for your wife?"

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littlyamadeus · 3 months ago

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Good Luck, Babe

Chapter 5: White Lies | 5.1k

You know what they say, when someone leaves, someone else will come.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Author's Note: Hi, I might stay for a while for I am in a challenge with a tiger. So please, let me know your thoughts and opinions about this chapter.

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⧗

Natasha took it upon herself to pick Aliah up from school. She took a day off work just to make up for missing her little girl's couple of days ago.

Tell you she said hi? Who does this woman think she is?

"Mama, where's mommy!" Aliah sings, planting kisses all over Natasha's face.

"She's home, bub." She paused, thinking about the immediate questions in her mind that needed immediate answers as well. "Can I ask who the lady was a while back?"

"Oh, the one asking about mommy?" The kid pointed out, "that's Monica's auntie Cawol!" She exclaimed, "like auntie Yeye!"

Natasha's voice cracked slightly as she asked another question, "Is she friends with Mommy?" She hated how much she wanted to know the answer.

"Auntie Cawol bings mommy delicious hot choco sometimes." All the time actually, the day after she first met you, the next day after that, then the days that followed.

So that's why the woman has a takeout cup carrier because it was for you, she internally confirmed. Natasha might be a snub but she secretly observes and takes notes of things.

She felt that familiar ache in her chest, igniting that dormant feeling one she thought she'd left behind a long time ago.

She's internally denying it.

But the jealousy burns in her chest, flaring its way up to her throat.

⧗

Natasha barely even makes it to the door before she hears a familiar laugh echoing through the living room. Her heart sinks, and she freezes, her hand on her daughter's small one.

"I'm not your wife," Melina says firmly to her own flesh and blood.

"What?" Natasha confusingly asked, making her mother take a deep sigh.

"I am not your wife, I am your mother. You don't get to kiss me first now." Then, her head gestured slightly towards you.

The message is clear—kiss your wife first, because that's your priority now.

"C'mon you can do better than that."

" 'Ma…" Natasha groans like a kid. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't tell me you and Y/N got back from honeymoon a week ago."

Natasha's eyes flickered to yours for a moment and you sinked on her gaze.

She swallowed hard, feeling another emotion she hadn't expected—shame and guilt.

"I'm sorry, 'ma."

"Pochemu ty prosto stoish' tam?" (Why are you just standing there?)

"Chto?" (What?)

"Pomogi svoyey zhene!" (Help your wife!)

Without wanting another hiss from her mother, she followed you to the dining kitchen.

You were arranging food onto the plates but then your hands froze mid-air when you saw Natasha. You turn slowly, putting the plate down, afraid that you will drop the expensive porcelain.

"What did you tell her?"

You trailed off, you could've spilled the whole damn truth if you wanted to, Natasha thought—but you didn't.

She felt sick to the stomach, but she had to do all of it.

She takes a deliberate step back from you, her mind racing with guilty thoughts. Then, she forces a strained laugh, exchanging an uneasy glance with you.

"We're still planning about that, 'ma."

"Y-yeah…" you played along, forcing a smile.

⧗

Natasha's voice is barely above a whisper, her eyes downcast as she manages to choke out a single phrase.

"I'm sorry, 'ma."

The awkwardness is amplified by the fact that, in this charged atmosphere, it feels impossible to just simply reach out and to stop Natasha's leg from shaking.

You laugh with her mother, but just subtle since Natasha remained stiff beside you. She forced a smile, a smile with her eyes clouded in guilt and nervousness.

"I wish you could have met Alexei, Y/N. He would have loved you. And especially Aliah, he would have adored this little Natasha."

You smiled genuinely at her words but you've never heard anything about Natasha's father ever since you were together back then, only her mom. And her not bringing him up already says a lot.

You were about to reach the bowl of rice across you when Natasha's long, calloused fingers wrapped around the rice bowl's handle first.

"Uh, y-yeah…" you say dumbly. God—it was a fucking simple act for fuck's sake, she was just reaching something for you, and here you are, flying with the butterflies in your stomach.

You reach for the bowl, your fingers brushing against the warm ceramic. Just as you're about to lift it out of her hands Natasha plated the rice onto your own plate.

"I got it."

A faint blush now stains your cheeks as you watch her carefully arrange the rice on your plate.

The kiss and now this one. It's just a show.

"So sweet, Natasha. I hope you put some on mine too."

"Yeye!" Aliah nearly jumps out of her skin at the sight of her aunt.

"Hi, 'ma." Yelena struts over to where Melina is seated, stealing a quick kiss on her mother's cheek.

"You're late."

"Mommy, toys…" your daughter suddenly whined, you slightly panicked, that's one of the signs your daughter is about to throw a fit.

"Baby, they're in my room," you say gently, not wanting to trigger her.

"Your room?" Melina suddenly interjects, joining the conversation of you and your daughter. "You don't share room with Natasha?"

"Yeah, you two don't share a room?" Yelena asks with a faux pout directed to her sister even though she knows that you both don't.

"No, that's not how it works. You two are married. You need to be together, not sleeping apart because of work." It was directed to Natasha, "You should not let Y/N work."

"That's true, times two." Yelena seconds.

"And Aliah is just 3, Natasha. You slept with me and your papa until you were 6, and Yelena until she was 9."

Melina seems to have not moved on from what she had discovered and tsks. "I can't believe this, you two, you need to be intact and that won't happen if you're sleeping in a different room."

For the sake of the topic to end, Natasha spoke.

"I'll have her stuff moved to mine, 'ma. Don't worry now."

But you're not going to lie, you got triggered with the memories of Natasha with another woman.

"I just doubt Natasha could make any woman cry," her mother says confidently, "She's too soft. She couldn't even hurt a fly!"

Then, suddenly your daughter adds up for the love of God.

"Mommy was kwaying." She pointed at you.

"But you say here hurts." Aliah points at her tiny chest. The table goes completely silent. All eyes looking at you, but not Natasha.

"When did this happen, baby?" Yelena leans to the kid, "Like when..." She pauses dramatically, looking directly at her sister who finally dared to glare at her, "...when did mommy say she was hurt?"

"When mama was not hew fow dinnah!"

"Oh…" Yelena nods slowly, then tilts her head slightly, her gaze never leaving her sister. "Your mama was having a meeting at that time, bunny."

What a great reminder…

"What's so important with that meeting that you're going to ditch family dinner, Natasha?" Melina tsks.

And her sister, in fact, did not stop.

"Yeah," Natasha simply said, jaw clenching, fingers twitching.

"Y/N, you know Nat told me she had plans for that day." She winked at you again, but you knew that there were no plans and you know full well what your sister-in-law is doing now.

"Mama, Nat is secretive, you know that. But I'm sure she'll tell you about it. Verno (Right), Nat?"

"See? Smooth…" liar, Yelena wanted to add.

"Aww that's really sweet, I am excited! Maybe I can help too!" her mother clap.

The dinner table feels like a battlefield, and you're stuck in the crossfire.

And Natasha is walking in a minefield—minefield that is solely for her.

"Do you have some coke Y/N? Any soda?" Yelena asks.

"Uh, wait—"

"No, I got it. Just tell me where your stock is."

"There's one in the fridge."

"Did you make mama come here?"

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Natasha seethed in anger, her voice was low and shaking.

"Fuck you." Natasha spat dangerously, her lips trembling in contained anger.

Only if Yelena knew what happened between you and Natasha that night. What Natasha did after and what you let her do to you.

"So if I have to drag mama to make you treat her right, then I will do it. Now, shall we get back since you still have a surprise to plan for your wife?"

361 notes · View notes

littlyamadeus · 3 months ago

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Me when I remember that the fanfiction I've been absorbed in for 2 hours, busy smiling and blushing at is, in fact, fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

littlyamadeus · 4 months ago

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Closer

Pairings: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x SHIELD Detective!Female Reader

Word count: 8k

Tags | Warnings: +18 smut, angst, top!Wanda, bottom!reader, Wanda being a perv criminal, fingering (r), enchanted strap (r), dubcon, breeding kink, pregnancy, comic/tarot reading inaccuracies (I did try my best searching about them), jealousy if you squint, friendzoned!Nat

Author's note: This is set after the MoM, Wanda being stuck on Earth-818, where she is a multiversal criminal after killing the Illuminati—the planet's mightiest heroes. Title inspired from the song Closer by NIN. I have another a/n at the end of the fic.

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ᱬ

"Do you know this girl?"

Wanda lets out a small huff, then leans on the table, her sore cuffed hands resting on the cold surface.

"I'll tell you if you tell me what color those pretty little panties of yours are."

ᱬ

She had killed the Illuminati, the very protectors of your universe. You couldn't understand why she would go after them, they were the ones who were keeping your universe safe and sound. It seemed that the only reason she had for doing this was to gain more power somehow and that's the only thing you got as of now.

But you couldn't help but wonder if she's up to something…more or personal? If she isn't after more power, then what is she up to? She could be plotting something far more sinister than anyone could imagine.

Or something she just lost.

As you stand in front of the interrogation room door, your heart is pounding fast, your hands are cold and your breathing hitched.

"I'll get you to talk." You murmured to yourself.

You then took a deep breath before signaling the agents that you are ready, then you watched as the door slowly opened before you. Sitting behind a desk facing you was the most wanted criminal on your planet.

As you stepped inside you examined her, you noticed that her body was covered in a number of devices which were meant to restrain her from using her magical powers. There's something on her temple, something that looked like an electric device. She also had the same thing collared around her neck and in her cuffed hands, you also took note of her blackened fingers. But both her feet seem to be free and in full display. She seemed to be unfazed by all the devices though, despite the fact she looks restrained in almost all parts of her body.

You were one of the top detectives in your field, but you had never seen any of this stuff, let alone be in a high security room with the most wanted criminal in your universe.

"Worried about me? Detective?" She asked as if she could read your mind.

"Comfortable with those on your body?" You huffed lightly, you hoped that you were able to keep a straight face while asking that question. You were doing your best to keep your cool, but it wasn't easy with her looking at you like that. "Sadly, you can only have those removed if you cooperate with me."

Wanda's face started to form a smirk before letting out a small chuckle as if to torment you even more. It was as if she knew exactly what kind of effect she was having on you.

"What about you? I don't think those clothes are comfortable on you…" she spoke with a wolfish grin, "want me to remove them?"

You force yourself to look away from Wanda, your heart rate slightly elevated. You take a deep, subtle breath, trying to compose yourself completely, focusing instead on your mission. There is no room for any distractions right now.

But God, this woman is a breathing distraction.

"Wanda Maximoff, is that your name?" you started, putting down the files you were pretending to fix a while back.

"Yes."

"Where are you from, Wanda?"

Silence.

You pressed on with the same question rephased, "Could you tell me where exactly you came from?"

She still didn't respond. Her eyes were like ice, cold and emotionless. You sighed disappointingly that now made the woman curve her lips upward.

Now, you began to lay out the facts, "You're not from here," you stated. "We've figured that one out. You're not from our universe and you killed our heroes." You slid a photo in front of her, the sound of the paper touching the cold metal table. "Do you know who that is?" It was a cropped photo of her. She was wearing a sweater and wide pants. She had a soft and gentle expression on her face, unlike the cold and emotionless looks she had been giving you so far. You observed how she looked at the photo and there is something you can't put a finger on her expression as she stared at it—jealousy?

"That's me."

"Wrong," you said firmly. You saw her eyes shot through you faster than the lightning. You were pleased that you were finally getting some sort of reaction from her. You could tell that you had caught her off guard. It seems like she wasn't used to being contradicted like this, you'll take note of that.

As a detective, if you cannot get an answer from your culprit you will get a reaction out of them. It was a fun game for you.

You held up another photo, before sliding it down on the table. This one is a closeup shot of her looking eye to eye at one of the monitors of Illuminati headquarters that was recovered. She was covered in blood and her eyes were glowing red.

The photo that has been haunting you since this case was given to you.

She just stared at it like a mirror. Then slowly, she began to tilt her head to the side, imitating the pose in the photo—taunting you. You could feel her eyes piercing into your soul.

Before you could lose yourself at her stare, you slammed your fingers down the photos. "This is not you, this is the Wanda Maximoff of this universe." You pointed at the photo of her variant with the soft and gentle expression on her face. You slid it towards you before grabbing the photo that is left, which was a photo of her showering in blood, "This…this is you."

Silence.

"Happy," you flick the photo of the happy Wanda. "And miserable." You pout, putting down the bloody Wanda in front of her.

Well, your tactics seemed to be not working. Because silence is all you got.

You took a deep breath and spoke again, trying to keep your frustration in check. "I'm going to ask you again, why are you here in my universe?" You stared at her expectantly, hoping for some kind of response this time. But Wanda remained silent, her face impassive as she stared back at you.

You were just starting, you just got here for like twenty minutes. Usually, during this part of interrogation you aren't frustrated yet unless you didn't have your pack of gummies before you started. You still should be cool and calm, but right now? You don't think you are at all.

She seemed to relish in your frustration. Taking pleasure in watching you struggle to get a straight answer out of her. This only added to your growing annoyance, making you wonder how long you could keep up this interrogation without losing your temper completely.

"Don't breathe too hard, detka."

You swear to your dead grandparents, you are going to lose it.

Your face flushed red like a fool, stomach was in knots as you tried to ignore the growing feeling of something you will slap yourself about.

Now, you managed to compose yourself back again, it's your turn to be silent. Fun games for you to play—the silent game where you'll sit on your chair while the culprit moves themselves in every way they could think of, walk, sit on the floor until their ass gets sore while you sit comfortably on your chair and this will go on for long painful hours. You've got to have years of training before you can master it.

So you sat comfortably, not saying anything. You waited to see what she would say or do next. But it seems like she was playing a waiting game as well, trying to see who would break first.

The two of you only sat in silence but the tension was too obvious in the small suffocating metal room.

You looked up from your file folder over and over again, taking notes of everything you got so far and that is the unknown name she had given you—detka. Now, you blinked as you realized how much time had passed. Your eyes shifted to Wanda and you noticed that she was tapping her blackened fingers impatiently on the table. It was clear that she was growing restless.

Good, you told yourself before getting back to your papers. One thing you're sure about is you have been here over and over, you had sat in a small cramped room for ten to twenty four hours half of your life. You're used to it. You do it for a living.

You'll last longer than she will.

"Detective Y/L/N, we got something for you." You heard through the comms of the suffocating room.

You got up and went to the door, waiting as a folder was delivered through a small opening of the door. As you walked back to the table, you couldn't shake off the feeling that Wanda was watching you intently. You tried to ignore it, focusing on the folder in front of you. But the weight of her gaze made the hairs on your neck rise. You glanced up at her, and sure enough, she was staring at you, a smirk written all over her face.

"It's quite disappointing I am not unwrapping something," she commented suggestively as she watched you unwrap the manila envelope on your hands. Then, her gaze drifted up to your lips and to your chest, your cleavage showing slightly on your low cut blouse that seemed to be taunting her from the moment you had stepped into the room.

Your jaw tensed as you tried to ignore the effect her nonsense comments were having on you, you tried to remain focused and professional, but you couldn't deny the heat building between your thighs.

You shame yourself.

You crossed your legs awkwardly, trying to conceal your discomfort. Wanda's smirk only grew wider when she noticed your movement. You could feel her eyes on you, and you wondered if she could tell how this back-and-forth was affecting you. Your mind raced, trying to come up with a way to regain control of the situation without giving her any more satisfaction. So you just decided to shift the focus of the conversation back to the interrogation. You examined a photo of a young girl wearing a denim jacket, taking note of a slight glow on her knuckles before showing it to Wanda.

"Do you know this girl?"

Wanda lets out a small huff, then leans on the table, her sore cuffed hands resting on the cold surface.

"I'll tell you if you tell me what color those pretty little panties of yours are."

"Who is this man?" you pushed another photo towards her that you weren't even able to see first just so you could dismiss her painful teasing, hoping to shift the conversation back to your hands because clearly, it's in hers.

"You want answers? Come on, detective, it's a simple question. Red? Black? Maybe something a little more innocent, like pin—"

"If stupidity is the only thing that will come out of your dirty mouth, then don't talk to me or don't speak, at all." You finally snapped, "I had asked you simple questions as well but I think you're too dumb to answer them since you're all silent." You knew that this was a low blow, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratification as you threw her own words back at her.

But still, you didn't last long.

You gathered the papers, folders, and envelopes in front of you, you couldn't help but feel Wanda's venomous glare burning into you. When you glanced up at her, you gulped by the sight of her face. Her expression was a picture of barely contained fury, suddenly feeling like prey being stalked by a predator—like the photo of her showering in blood. You immediately avoided her fiery gaze, you swore you saw it flicker red. You shake your head and take a hold of your documents.

You couldn't believe she had gotten the best of you in this interrogation and you only got defeated and frustrated. All you can do is huff, straightening your collar and smoothing your hair as you try to regain a sense of composure and the little shame that this investigation left you. You glanced towards the two-way mirror, knowing that the other agents and your colleagues were watching this whole ordeal unfold. They watched as you got humiliated by this multiversal criminal.

Taking a deep breath, you spoke up, your voice firm and decisive. "I think I am done here," you said, signaling them to open the door for you. But before you could even step outside, Wanda suddenly spoke up, her voice cutting through the tension in the room like a knife.

"It's not stupidity if it's all true," her words dripping with a cold and thick accent you are not familiar with that sent shivers down your spine.

You knit your brows together but you didn't turn around because you knew you would only see the annoying smirk plastered on her face.

"Victoria's secret, it's lacy and has a floral pattern, scarlet. And it's wet."

You clenched your jaw tightly, your nostrils flaring in anger. Now, you felt violated and humiliated, she had really gotten under your skin in a way that no one else had ever managed before.

As the door shut behind you, you felt a sense of relief at finally getting some distance from her, and you took a few deep breaths to try and calm yourself down—a routine you usually do.

"You okay?" Natasha immediately asked, removing her leather jacket and placing it on your shoulders, "I swear, allow me to do this."

Wanda rose from her chair and tried her best to stretch, trying to pop and shift some bones in her restrained neck and her back. Her movements were slow and deliberate, as if she was savoring the moment. Then, she walked towards the one-way glass mirror.

"No, Nat. If I allow that to happen one of you will come out in that room in a body bag." You walked to put your files down briefly staring at Wanda who was now hovering closely to the mirror.

Natasha then grabbed you by your right arm, her face dangerously close on yours. She clearly didn't like how this multiversal criminal talked to you. "And who do you think that will be?" Natasha asked intimidatingly.

You just huffed playfully, rolling your eyes on her making Natasha let out a few laugh.

"Are you sure those devices are really working on her?"

"Well, we don't know where she's from or what entity she really is. So we don't really know what else she can do," Natasha said and you already know that fact. "As of now it is the highest and most secure restraining device that they have. At least that's what they told me. Why?"

Well, you don't think it is working or restraining her powers at all.

Natasha didn't speak as if she already knew what's going on in your mind. "So it's true?"

"What is?" You asked as you crouched down to your bag, stuffing all the heavy documents you had dragged to and fro wherever you go.

"What she said."

"Natasha, she said nothing but taunt and—"

"Eye fuck you, yes."

Humiliate, humiliate is what you were going to say.

"The last thing she said, was it true?"

Natasha's question hung in the air, you found yourself frozen in place, your mind racing to come up with an appropriate response. You then slowly turned around and your eyes first landed on Wanda. You still have no idea if she can hear or see everything despite her being locked inside, but you can see her staring right at you as if she can see you through the one-way mirror. Now, you are both staring at each other even with the glass standing against the two of you.

Guess there is only one way to find out.

"Why don't you drop by later and find out, agent?"

You stepped back, almost like a flinch as you watched Wanda hit the mirror with her cuffed hands, her jaw shaking and her eyes flickering with a terrifying red glow, as if the rage within her had taken on a life of its own.

Now that you know how much effect you have on her, and how you figured out how she plays—you will play her game with your own hands.

Play the game or the game plays you.

ᱬ

Your fingers flew over the keyboard of your laptop as you delved into the files that had been recovered from the headquarters of the Illuminati. The video footage was particularly compelling, showing Wanda's abilities at their most devastating. You watched in horror as she unleashed a barrage of powerful magic, tearing through the ranks of the Illuminati with ease.

Black Bolt was killed having his mouth covered.

Captain Carter was cut in half with her shield.

Reed Richard was grated to death.

Photon was blasted with her own powers and was crushed by a statue.

And Professor X's neck was snapped by Wanda after what you think was a telepathic duel.

"Why did you do all this, Wanda Maximoff?" You whispered to yourself.

You knew that what had happened there was unprecedented and that the implications were far-reaching. Another set of evidence was given to you stating where this multiversal criminal was, Earth-616—from a different reality. With the Illuminati gone, multiversal travel was impossible, and the potential for catastrophic consequences seemed to loom around every turn with her being in your reality.

You watched another video footage of a young girl who was clearly in the throes of something far beyond her control. The way she was running and in a second she was being consumed by a star-figured portal she made herself, as if her own power was turning on her, devouring her from within.

A theory now begins to take shape in your mind. You theorized that perhaps Wanda was here in your universe because of the young girl. But again, it would always fall back onto why Wanda killed your world's mightiest heroes.

"Think, Y/N. C'mon."

As a seasoned detective, you couldn't help but consider all angles and possibilities. Then, another theory popped, what if Wanda used the girl to get to your universe? But the question that nagged at you this time was why she would do such a thing. What was her motive? Was she trying to escape from her own universe or did she have some greater purpose in mind? The uncertainty of it all made your mind tangle, as you desperately tried to piece together the puzzle that was Wanda Maximoff of Earth-616.

"What do you want?" You whispered, your gaze was locked repeating the footage of Wanda going on to Illuminati one by one.

ᱬ

"Thank you for meeting me."

Wanda nodded in acknowledgement, as she locked the door of the cafe behind you. You carefully watched her actions and movements as you followed her. And as a detective yourself it was your nature to observe and it was clear that she was a bit nervous, a far cry from the confident and aggressive that is her variant.

She led you to a small table for two, as you two finally settled in, you spoke.

"So, uhm. I'm detective Y/N and I think you kno—"

"I-I know who you are, I know what happened," Wanda interjected, cutting you off mid-sentence. Her tone was sharp and clipped, as if she had already anticipated your attempt to broach the topic of the devastating events that had transpired within the week. "You don't need to repeat it all over again," she said with finality.

It was all over the news for days now, hell it would be for the next few years. The death of the World's mightiest heroes and footage of the one who killed them, which was her—not technically her but her variant from another universe.

"I have received threats and so are my children. I had to close my shop since then," your gaze darted around the surroundings. Before you got in, you'd seen the words "murderer, witch, killer, anti-hero," painted on the shop's windows in bold, aggressive strokes.

"But…I have nothing to do with it," Wanda's voice trembled with emotion, you could hear the undeniable anguish in her words. "There would be times that I can't control my powers and it frightens me. My body was present but my mind was something else...someone else," she continued, her voice growing fainter, almost like a distant echo. "I had glimpses of a star…more like a portal, a shattered mirror and a book. But it's…I swear, it's not me I have nothing to do with it."

"Hey, it's—" you carefully edge in. But she quickly stopped you.

"No, I want to get this over with. I just want my children to be safe." She looked at you with glossy eyes. She looks so tired and defeated. "I used to dream every night," she continued, her words tumbling out rapidly, "I was…I was happy, I was with my children, I was in control of everything. But then it's gone. I put my kids to sleep then everything slowly started to disappear, I watched it. I watched everything I created, everything I loved disappear right in front of me."

"You lost your children…" you whispered unintentionally.

"Not me, I'm with my children," Wanda shook her head lightly before looking at you.

"It's not you who lost them…"

It struck you deeply, and suddenly, the pieces started to fall into place.

"What we see in our dreams are what is happening on our alternative selves. They may not be our exact selves, but they're our counterparts from different universes, and when we sleep, we inadvertently tap into their experiences."

"H-how sure are you about that?"

"I came to my old mentor, I told her everything about it. She might give you better answers than I do, I stopped learning more about my powers since I retired," She paused briefly, her gaze dropping to the ground. "Besides, I…I'm just a sitting duck variant here."

"Hey—" you blinked when she handed you a piece of paper. Stopping your attempt to comfort once again.

"I don't need it. Here is the address if you still need answers. That's all I can give you."

She stood and you panicked, you hurried after her. As she reached the door, she turned to face you for a brief moment, her expression unreadable. Before you could utter a polite goodbye, she had already shut the door behind you, leaving you standing in the cold street.

You took an exasperated sigh, then, you quickly pulled out your phone and dialed Natasha's number, asking her to send some SHIELD agents to keep an eye on Wanda and her kids for protection. After the call, you felt lost, it's like you're close to hitting a brick wall, but then you remembered the paper Wanda gave you.

"This sounds like a sham."

ᱬ

"What are you doing here in our universe?" Natasha asked for God knows how many times now. But Wanda remained silent.

She unbuttons her suit jacket, revealing her holstered gun. She watches Wanda's silent form, she is unfazed—unthreatened. She wishes you were here, with how easily you extracted information just using your eyes and laughter. How your disarming smiles could crack even the hardest facades, including hers.

"Was I right?" Natasha freezes, surprised by Wanda's sudden voice.

"What?" Natasha responds sharply, trying to hide her shock. "What did you say?" She watches Wanda closely. Her eyes are no longer empty. They're stormy and intense. "Right about what?"

"C'mon you know what I am talking about." Wanda's eyes crinkled to the side. And Natasha's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the smirk, remembering the last thing this criminal had said about you before you got out of the first interrogation. Natasha catches herself slowly smirking as well before she can stop it, leaning back confidently in her chair. She hoped this play of hers would look natural.

"Not going to lie, it was impressive 'cause you were right about it. Saw it upclose, it was black, lacy Victoria's Secret, and it's wet—for me."

"It's red." Wanda immediately corrected, the colors of Natasha's face started to drain in embarrassment. "Dark red," She emphasizes, "Almost burgundy, like wine...or blood." She grins mischievously, enjoying how the agent in front of her clenched her jaw.

Natasha intended for it to look like she indeed saw what you were wearing that day. You even told her to come to your place and find out even though she knew it was just a play to get something out of this criminal, only for the two of you to do nothing but investigate and investigate. She even bought wine! But since then you had made it clear to her, that you two cannot be a thing—that she's just a friend.

"Listen here, you twisted criminal," Natasha strided and grabbed Wanda by the collar of her prison suit, pulling her closer. "Try to disrespect her like that once again, you will never be back in your universe again."

Wanda laughed despite Natasha's threat. "In just one snap I can go through your mind and see the very not-so-respectful things your twisted brain has thought of doing to your boss," she spoke calmly, unfazed by Natasha's grip on her collar and how close their faces were to each other.

"Give me your boss or you'll get nothing from me."

ᱬ

You find yourself standing in front of a quaint, old-fashioned shop, nestled between two larger buildings. The sign above the door reads "Madam Calderu's Psychic Readings" in a flowery, Victorian script. As you push open the heavy wooden door, a bell chimes merrily, announcing your arrival. The shop is dimly lit, filled with an eclectic mix of incense burners, crystal balls on a small, round table.

Before you can take in your surroundings properly, you hear a sudden scream.

Your hand goes for your holster, gun drawn instinctively. The woman freezes, seeing the gun pointed at her. "Wait!" She throws up her hands, the shawl falling back to reveal a middle-aged woman with sharp features and piercing dark eyes. The woman's gaze locks onto yours, and for a moment, it's as if she's peering right through you, seeing something that only she can comprehend. Her eyes widen slightly, and she takes a step closer, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper.

"You…"

Taking a deep breath, she forces a calming smile. "I apologize, dear. You just gave me quite the surprise. Please, have a seat. I am Madam Calderu."

Even though something about this feels off—hell, everything about this feels off, you holster your gun and take a seat at the nearest table. The smooth wood is cool to the touch, just like her hands when she places them palm-up on the table.

"What's your name, dear?"

Her eyes seem to pierce through you as she awaits your response. There's a strange intensity to her gaze, like she's trying to unravel the very fabric of your existence.

"Y/N…" you were about to get your badge to show her that you are a detective but she gently stopped you.

"Y/N, no need for that," She repeats softly as if she already knows what you really are.

The goosebumps you're feeling made you want to finish whatever this is. "I am here about Wanda Maximoff."

"Which one?" She asks, laying out a spread of cards you thought are tarot cards across the table.

"What? Wh-what do you mean which one? Hey I-I am not here for that." You rushed out, but she already flipped a card.

"The Fool. Bare…untouched, pure." You cringe slightly, what a nice way to say you are a virgin…which you truly are. "You are going to bring a new life."

"W-what?"

She turned to another card that was placed vertically. "The Hermit. You're in deep search for something. The Devil, upright. You are bound...constrained by circumstances beyond your control." Another card was flipped. "The Empress Meaning, upright. You are a vessel…meant to contain something immense, powerful. But you're unprepared. A fragile container for a force that could shatter you at any moment."

The last card made her eyes widened as she saw the image—a hanged man suspended upside down from a tree, with his right foot bound and his left foot free. "Someone is after you…" She mutters under her breath, then she looks at you who was in a deep frown, images of something red…a crown, something powerful flashed her mind that made her scream. You immediately took a hold of her hands with yours, as if you pulled her out of her nightmare, she stopped screaming but she was breathing hard.

"You wait here, young lady." She stood, shaking as she rushed from her seat disappearing through the string curtains.

The room grows silent again as you wait for Madame Calderu to return. Your phone suddenly rings, making you jump slightly. You pull it out, seeing Natasha's number.

"Romanoff."

"She wants you."

Realizing what she meant, you shifted on your seat in frustration. "Romanoff, I told you not to…" you didn't finish, sighing defeatedly knowing that scolding Natasha would get you nowhere. She had always been like this, stubborn and would sometimes go against you and your higher ups. "I'll be there." You say, ending the call and tucking the phone back into your pocket.

Madam Calderu came rushing back with a wooden rectangular sigil in her hand only to see a 20 dollar bill on top of the table.

You were gone.

ᱬ

"Y/N, I'm sorry." Natasha followed you behind as you strided toward the interrogation room. You have not been giving her any words or any blink of an eye as you arrived. And she has been apologizing, following you around like a lost puppy.

"I want you out of this case, Romanoff. This is not the only time you went against my orders." You say with finality before disappearing behind the door of the interrogation room, not wanting to hear any of her reactions.

You took deep breaths before you turned around and saw how the criminal had been staring at you. She was wearing a wolfish grin, elbows on top of the table while her cuffed hands together were in the air.

"How are you holding up?" You asked, much calmer like you were the first time.

"I'm good, detective." She said, simply. "I'm good now that you're here."

"I could say that." You quipped, making her let out a few chuckles that made your stomach flutter.

"I didn't like the attitude you have the last time we saw each other."

"Well, I didn't like how you didn't cooperate with me."

Wanda smirks teasingly, her black fingernails tapping against the metal table. "I missed you, detective," she purrs softly, her voice dropping an octave. She manspread her legs slightly under the table, unnoticed by you.

You respond in a neutral tone, your expression giving nothing away. "I could say that," you repeated, never breaking eye contact with the criminal.

She chuckles softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She leans forward slightly, the movement subtle yet intentional. "Didn't you miss me too?" She just threw you a bone, looking for a reaction—any reaction. She watches your face carefully, eyes picking up every tiny muscle twitch. She sees your jaw tighten slightly, your shoulders stiffen. She notes how you never left her gaze, how you keep your voice neutral and unreadable.

But then, you remained composed. Chuckling but you didn't give any response to her question, instead you answered with a question yourself.

"Wanda, have you had dreams?"

She frowned before huffing softly, but failed to hide the slight uptick in her lips. She leans back slightly, her gaze drifting away before slowly returning to meet yours.

"It's here, right in front of me."

As Wanda answered, a smirk tugged at the corners of your mouth draws Wanda's attention back to your face. She sees the genuine smile hiding behind the smirk, and it makes her pause. She's not used to seeing genuine smiles, especially not directed at her. Wanda's eyes linger on your smile, her gaze seeming to drink in the sight. She notices the way your indifference during the first interrogation melts away, replaced by something warmer. Something that makes Wanda's heart skip a beat.

"Have you lost someone?" You asked another question, much personal this time. But silence was the only answer you got back from Wanda. You expected for it to not work for now but you know that eventually, later on, you will get something out from her—you will make her say something.

"I used to have dreams, Wanda." When the words escape your lips, you see Wanda's eyes widen slightly, hanging onto each word. "I dream of my kids, and I dream about losing them every single time." You continued. Your dreams have become a nightly ritual, an obsession. Every night, you relive the same scene, sitting on the couch, surrounded by laughter, playful shouts and calls for you—their mommy. You're surrounded by your children, their faces blurry but their joy unmistakable. And then, next thing you know is you're awake in an empty bed, no signs of your children.

"Every time?" She asks, already knowing the answer.

You hesitate, then nod. "Like clockwork. I see them, hear them. They feel so real…" You trail off, smiling at the memories. "Then they're gone." You add softly, unconsciously wrapping your arms around yourself. Wanda swallows hard, her fingers twitching slightly. "It's funny because I don't even want kids, but after those dreams, when I wake up the first thing I expect to see is them beside me."

As she sits there, watching you wrestle with the ghosts of your dream children, she feels an unfamiliar pull. She's seen the same thing in her own dreams—blurry faces, laughter that turns to silence.

"Every night the same dream, every morning the same nightmare." She murmured under her breath.

For the first time since you've seen her, Wanda's mask completely slips.

"I can say the same, Y/N. I've lost people I loved…but I am here to get them back now."

Bingo.

Wanda blinks, momentarily taken aback as she watches you rise, a flicker of confusion passing over her face.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Wanda." You say before disappearing, leaving her alone in the cold room.

ᱬ

Later that night, as the prison settles into a quiet routine, you find yourself back at your apartment.

You pour yourself a glass of wine, the cool liquid sliding down your throat as you relax on your couch. This case has been tough, but tonight, you finally made a huge progress. She had opened up, shown emotion. You smile smugly to yourself, confident that tomorrow, with your newfound insight, you'll finally break the case wide open.

You finish your glass of wine, feeling tired. You've had a long day of investigating and interrogating. You let out a breath, your body relaxing as you slide into bed in your silk nightgown. You close your eyes, ready for sleep. But you felt dizzy. As the room spins around you, suddenly, unmistakably, you hear it—laughter. The clear, joyous laughter of children echoes through your darkened bedroom. Your eyes fly open, but the sound doesn't stop. It surrounds you, bouncing off the walls, growing louder.

Figures begin to take shape right before your eyes. Two boys—the same children from your dreams. They're laughing, their faces fully visible this time, and they're reaching out their little hands towards you.

"Mommy!" You laugh, reaching to them.

But then, in an instant their laughter turns cold, their smiles disappearing as they hiss, "Mommy, go away! Run, Mommy, run!" They push you back, their small hands shoving you towards the bed. You saw a glowing figure just outside your door, a woman with horns in her head—glowing red.

Your kids continued to scream, "Run! Mommy!"

Your heart was pounding in your chest, you wrapped your arms around your children, pulling them close. You can feel their small bodies shaking, mirroring your own fear.

"Mommy, go." The first boy whispered.

"You have to go now, mommy." The other one said.

But you didn't let go of them. The footsteps grew louder and the figure was just right beside your bed. Blocking out the light on the hallway of your room.

You jolt upright in bed, your nightgown damp with sweat. You pant, looking around your room. No children, no figure. Just you and your phone ringing loud.

"Y/N," Maria's voice is tight, "Wanda escaped. We don't know how but we need you here. Now."

"2800 Sherwood Street, Eastview." You rattled out. Your heart pounds in your ears as you stand still. "Maria, 616 is after 818's kids, she might be on her way to get them now. Target is the variant Wanda of Earth-616. Presumed armed and dangerous. Objective: Contain and capture." You stood, walking to where your closet is, "Eliminate if you have to." You ended the call swiftly, pulling on your tactical gear—bulletproof vest, cargo pants, combat boots out of your cabinet.

When you were about to get undressed, there was a figure that loomed over your room's doorway. You can't be wrong but it was the same figure you saw in your dreams just a while back. A woman with little horns, glowing red.

As you sweep the hallway, you think you're alone. But then, a movement catches your eye—a shadow darting between rooms. You turned around, gun raised, heart pounding. "Who's there?" You call out, voice echoing through the empty house. Then, a shadow appeared right at the end of your hallway and it started crawling to your direction. Without thinking, you spin around and dash back to your bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you. You lock it immediately, and aim your gun straight at the door as you step back.

You felt an energy behind you so you whirl around, gun still pointed at the air, only to find yourself face to face with the towering figure. It looms over you, the red light pulsing violently. Your hands tremble slightly as you raise the gun higher, aiming at the center of the shadowy mass. You gasp, eyes widening as you recognize the features hidden beneath the glowing shadow.

"W-Wanda?" Your voice is barely a whisper.

Her blackened fingers extend, reaching to the gun aiming at her and it disappears in a flash of dark energy. Before you could react, she snapped and in an instant you were up in the air. An unseen force lifts you off the ground, suspending you in mid-air with an invisible restraint tying your feet and hands. You struggle, legs kicking uselessly as you float higher but her eyes glow with an intensity you've never seen before, almost burning with the red energy that surrounds her. She watches you like a predator eyeing its prey—calculated, intense, and completely focused.

"Miss me?"

"What are you doing?" You manage to choke out, heart is now hammering to get out of your chest as you stare into her glowing eyes. Her appearance is disturbing; she wears a crown that looks like horns, and a suit that looks like it was drenched in blood. The red energy seems to be seeping from her very pores. Her features are still beautiful, but twisted into something dark and terrifying.

"To get what I lost."

Your frown deepens as you process her words.

Then, a chill laughter escaped her lips. "I thought you already figured it out, detective," she says mockingly, her voice dripping with condescension. "You're supposed to be the smart one. The one who sees through every lie and unravels every mystery." She leans in closer, her face inches from yours as you elevate in the air. "But you've got it all wrong."

Your mind races, trying desperately to connect the dots. Your detective mind isn't working at the moment and she tilts her head, studying your baffled expression with cruel amusement. Her blackened fingers gently caress your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw. "You really don't get it, do you?" She murmurs, her touch icy cold. Her fingers started to caress your stomach. "Let me give you a hint...what's the same thing we lost every time we close our eyes?"

Your kids. Her kids.

You shake your head, trying to clear the confusion. "But…I-I don't have your kids, Wanda."

"Oh, you will." Her voice drops to a threatening whisper as she snaps her fingers again. In an instant, you find yourself falling backward onto your bed, the familiar indentation of your pillow against your head. Wanda begins to crawl up your body, her blackened fingers digging into the blankets, pulling her closer. Her face hovers above yours, her twisted crown casting ominous shadows on the walls. "Now, let's make them, shall we?"

You squeeze your eyes shut, praying desperately that this is all just a nightmare. But as Wanda's cold hands begin to roam over your chest, pulling the knots of your nightgown, you realize with a sinking heart that this is no dream. This is terrifyingly, undeniably real.

"Open your eyes."

A shiver runs down your spine as the cold air hits your bare skin. You have nothing under your nightgown, just your lacy panties. You're exposed, vulnerable, lying naked beneath her. She takes a moment to admire the sight, her red eyes burning with a fierce intensity. "I knew you're more beautiful without clothes," she murmurs, tracing a finger down your chest. She then squeezes them roughly, pinching your nipples between her fingers until you gasp in pain. Her other hand reaches up to grab your throat, squeezing tightly as she attacks your chest with a frenzy of kisses and bites.

You arch your back in pain as Wanda's cold hands maul your breasts, her fingers digging into your flesh like claws. Her hand around your throat tightens, cutting off your air supply as she nuzzles her face between your breasts, inhaling your scent deeply. Your body goes limp beneath hers. You spread your legs wider, letting her settle deeper between your thighs. Your arms lift up, wrapping around her neck possessively. You whimper softly as she bites down hard on your collarbone.

Her fingers slip beneath the lacy fabric of your underwear and immediately find their way inside your warmth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, her skin so cold it burns against your sensitive flesh. She begins to move her fingers in and out of you brutally, ignoring your cries. She silences you with a brutal kiss, her cold fingers continuing their relentless assault on your insides. Her thumb finds your clit, pressing down hard as she forces another finger inside you. You feel yourself stretching to accommodate her blackened fingers, your body trembling with a mix of pain and pleasure.

You should be fighting, clawing, biting, anything to make her stop. Instead, you find yourself wrapping your legs around her waist, pulling her closer as she invades your cunt with cold, blackened fingers.

Letting her darkness in.

"Hng Wanda..." You whimpered.

She smirks wickedly as she hears you cry out her name, your pleasured gasps mingling with anguished moans. Her eyes glitter with cruel triumph. "Say my name again," she commands.

"W-Wanda…" You stuttered.

Then, she curled her fingers inside you agonizingly slow, hitting that perfect spot. "Louder."

"Fuck! Wanda!"

Just as you're about to release the coil on your stomach, she pulls her fingers out of you suddenly, leaving you gaping and empty. You whimper in protest, but before you can even process what's happening, she shoves two of her blackened fingers into your mouth instead.

"Suck."

Magic crackles in the air as Wanda presses her blackened fingers against your lips, demanding obedience. Shimmering sparks dance before your eyes before you reluctantly close them, submitting as your mouth envelops her fingers. The metallic taste of chaos magic and your wetness coats your tongue, making you shudder.

She pulls her fingers free from your mouth, leaving behind trails of dark magic. Kneeling between your legs, she lets you see the crimson strap-on secured around her waist—it looked so real, enchanted.

As you finally register what's happening, adrenaline shoots through your veins. Your body goes instantly rigid, eyes wide with realization and fear.

"No..." you whimper, trying to close your legs, but she holds them firmly open with her knees. The alarm bells in your mind scream to fight back.

With a cruel smile, she rips your delicate underwear to shreds, discarding the remains aside. She grabs your thighs tightly, spreading your legs as far apart as they'll go. The enchanted strap-on hangs between her legs, the chaos runes pulsing with dark energy.

"It's time to make what we lost."

She rubs the tip against your wet entrance, coating it with your arousal. You watch in horror as she throws her head back, moaning softly. "You're so tight, around my cock," she hisses, gripping your hips. Without warning, she snaps her hips forward, burying the entire length inside you brutally. She shushes your cries, her free hand caressing your cheek, kissing your forehead soothingly as she continues to brutally thrust the strap-on into you with each heartbeat. With every painful push, you let out a little whimper, your body trembling beneath hers.

"It hurts, Wanda…" you sobbed.

"I know, detka." She placed her forehead against yours before kissing them again, her thumb gently stroking your cheek as she continued to ravage you with the cock. "It's supposed to hurt." She murmurs against your forehead, "This pain will remind you who you belong to now." As she continues to brutally thrust into you, she starts to feel pleasure from the enchanted device. The chaos runes absorb your pain and convert it into dark energy, feeding into Wanda. She moans softly, nuzzling your face, "You're hurting so nicely…" The pleasure builds inside her, her hips snapping forward with increased force, the strap-on plunging deeper into your torn and stretched flesh. She buries her face in your neck, kissing and biting your skin as she chases her orgasm. "I'm going to cum inside you, my love."

All you can feel is the relentless pain, your body bruised and your pussy battered by her cock. But despite the agony, you nod dumbly, willing to take whatever she gives you. "Yes, Wanda," you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse from crying. "Please, please."

She presses a palm firmly against your stomach, feeling the prominent bulge of the strap-on inside you. "Feel that, detka? Feel how deep I am?" She pants harshly, her hips grinding against yours. "You'll be filled with my cum, marked from the inside out."

"Then, we will never lose them again."

"Please…I don't wanna lose them again, Wanda. Please, give me my kids. G-give me your babies."

Your statement throws her over the edge. She groans loudly, her body tensing as she forces her cock deep inside you, releasing wave after wave of hot, enchanted seed. The chaos runes pulse dangerously, filling your womb with dark energy.

She collapses onto you, panting heavily as she caresses your stomach, feeling the warmth of her release inside you.

"Our kids…" she slipped out of you. Making you whimper from the empty feeling. Then, her hand slowly trailed down to your pussy, feeling the wetness of her cum mixing with yours as she pushed it back inside you.

"We'll never lose them again."

ᱬ

You blinked groggily as you stirred awake in your bedroom decorated in a vintage 1950s style. A silky nightgown slips off one shoulder as you sit up slowly. You stare at the two boys beside you, your heart swelling with love. And your dear wife, Wanda lies in between them, her hand protectively resting on the boys' backs, a soft smile on her sleeping face.

Feeling you're moving away, Wanda calls out softly, stirring in her sleep. "Hey, mommy." She carefully removes her arms from around the twins, ensuring they don't wake up.

"Hey." You greeted back, groaning as you finally managed to stand. Wanda immediately rounded the bed to get to you.

"Mmm, good morning, my love." Before you can say a word, she leans in to press a tender kiss to your lips. She took your hands as she sat back on the bed. Then, blackened fingers slide down to your swollen stomach, you laugh, guiding her head as she leans down to kiss your bump.

"Good morning, little one," she coos. "We can't wait to meet you soon."

—

Author's Note: This was supposed to have an angsty ending but I remember promising someone here to write a Wanda fic w happy ending.

I just want to inform everyone that this might be the last fic I will be posting. I will be on hiatus since I have been missing school a lot due to health issues and I need to keep up and get back on track. Every series/fics of mine will be put on hold for a while, but I promise that the first thing I'll post when I get back are updates on them. I'll see you all around :)))

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littlyamadeus · 5 months ago

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DO NOT FORGET LUIGI!

Guys this isn't just a trend. While yes, he is hot. He stands for something more than that. He stands for someone who stood up for working class and who gunned down an evil man. A man who profited off of millions of peoples misery and deaths.

KEEP TALKING ABOUT HIM! KEEP READING THE NEWS ABOUT HIM! KEEP SUPPORTING HIM! Never stop! This is important! We can't just forget what he has sacrificed for America...His freedom so we can have ours.

Or at least have a chance to fight back and gain our freedom from these insurance companies.

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littlyamadeus · 5 months ago

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It was such an honor to read this piece. Thank you so much for giving us this amazing story🤧🤧

A Feline Connection Part 10 (Final)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Goodbyes are always hard, but sometimes they’re necessary. Natasha understands that better than most.

Warnings: light angst, light fluff

Words: 2239

Natasha tucks her hands into the pockets of her jacket, her boots making soft taps against the floor as she walks slow circles around the lone table in the small, stark visiting room.

On the surface of the table, Widow mirrors her movements, her tiny paws following her in smaller, deliberate circles as if mimicking her pacing.

From his spot near the door, Tony groans dramatically, his patience clearly worn thin. He throws his head back against the wall with a loud sigh.

“Oh my god, stop moving! You two are making me dizzy.”

Natasha pauses mid-step, turning to fix him with a flat, unimpressed stare.

Widow, as if in solidarity, halts her pacing and copies Natasha’s expression, letting out an annoyed yowl aimed directly at him.

Tony points a finger at the cat, his tone exasperated.

“Hey! Don’t you start with me, furball. Do you know how many strings I had to pull to even get you in here?”

At his gesture, Widow suddenly collapses onto her side with a pitiful meow, tilting her head to Natasha with what could only be described as a dramatic cry for help.

Natasha smirks at the feline’s theatrics, scooping her up and cradling her against her chest. She strokes her sleek fur, her voice soft but playful.

“Is Tony bullying you again?” she asks.

Widow chirps in response, nuzzling against Natasha’s arm.

Tony gasps, mock outrage written all over his face.

“I didn’t even touch her!”

Widow lets out another exaggerated meow and burrows herself further into Natasha’s embrace.

Groaning, Tony throws his hands up in exasperation.

“You know what? I’ll just wait outside,” he grumbles, storming out of the room with a huff.

The metal door creaks closed behind him, leaving Natasha alone with the feline perched contentedly in her arms. The room falls quiet for only a moment before the other door on the opposite side creaks open.

Natasha’s breath catches as you step through, your eyes meeting hers the instant you lift your head.

The guard with you unlocks your cuffs before nodding curtly to Natasha and exiting, leaving the two of you alone.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The silence is heavy, but it’s not uncomfortable.

Finally, you break it, your voice soft.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Natasha replies, her tone matching yours.

Widow wriggles in Natasha’s arms, leaping to the floor and sprinting toward you with an excited chirp. She circles your legs a few times before hopping into your arms when you crouch to greet her.

“It’s good to see you too, Widow,” you murmur, running a hand over her fur as she purrs loudly in response.

You glance up at Natasha, an amused smile tugging at your lips.

“They allow pets to visit criminals now?”

“After an extensive search, yes,” Natasha replies dryly, a playful glint in her eyes. “But in this case, technically, she’s not visiting a criminal anymore.”

Confusion flashes across your face as you stand, cradling Widow.

Natasha steps closer, pulling a folder from her jacket and handing it to you.

You open it, skimming the documents inside.

“It’s an updated ruling on your case,” Natasha explains. “Parole with the possibility to reduce your sentencing time.”

Your head snaps up, surprise written across your features.

“How did you manage this?”

Natasha crosses her arms, leaning against the table.

“I told them how you helped me take down the weapons deals and explained how much of your recent actions were…influenced by someone else.”

Your expression tightens at the mention of Whitney, but you keep your gaze steady.

“She’s still causing trouble, isn’t she?”

“She’s under tight surveillance now,” Natasha assures. “Whatever connections she’s trying to pull to get her out of this, I’ll make sure they don’t reach you or Widow again.”

A small, grateful smile crosses your face as you stroke the cat absently.

“What about everything else I’ve done?”

Natasha shrugs lightly.

“Most of the victims dropped their charges. I guess they didn’t want to return the insurance money they got after you stole from them.”

“Typical,” you scoff, not surprised by the actions of the wealthy people you’ve always targeted.

“And as for the facilities and buildings…” Natasha smirks faintly. “I may have convinced the owner to let it go.”

You laugh softly, the sound incredulous.

“Well, I’m glad Stark’s not one to hold a grudge.”

“Oh, don’t mistake it for that,” Natasha says with a small chuckle. “His ego’s still bruised, but I think he’s impressed more than anything.”

The room falls silent once more, the only sound being Widow’s soft purring. The feline seems entirely at ease, her warmth a small comfort in the charged quiet.

You tilt your head slightly, studying Natasha with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

“So…what’s the catch?” you finally ask, breaking the silence.

Natasha arches a brow. “Catch?”

You sigh softly, your voice cautious as you clarify.

“Why are you doing this? What’s in it for you?”

Understanding the weight behind your question, Natasha takes a step closer. Her posture relaxes, her gaze softening as she considers her response.

“A long time ago,” she begins, her voice quiet but firm, “when I thought there was no way out of the life I was living, someone gave me a second chance.”

She reaches out, her fingers brushing gently over Widow’s fur, the motion grounding her. Natasha’s eyes meet yours again, and a small, earnest smile graces her lips.

“So that’s all this is,” she continues, her voice steady and sincere. “Just a second chance. What you do with it is entirely up to you.”

For a moment, you simply watch her, the sincerity of her words settling heavily in the air between you. The faint tension in your shoulders eases as you realize she’s serious—no ulterior motive, no hidden agenda.

Tilting your head with a faint smirk, you decide to challenge her words lightly.

“And if I decide to go back to being a thief?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

Natasha’s lips twitch into a slight smirk of her own as she straightens her posture and crosses her arms.

“Then I’ll have to stop you,” she replies without missing a beat, her tone teasing but underpinned with a playful warning. “Being a hero and all.”

A quiet laugh escapes you at her response, soft and genuine, but the humor fades as your gaze drifts down to the cat in your arms. You run your fingers gently along Widow’s fur, your thoughts growing heavier.

When you speak again, your voice is barely above a whisper.

“And if I decide to leave?”

The question hangs in the air, the vulnerability in your tone pulling at something in Natasha’s chest. She hesitates for a brief moment, the thought of you leaving tugging painfully at her heart.

But she steps closer, her hand reaching out to gently tilt your chin upward, lifting your gaze to meet hers. Her eyes are steady, unwavering, as she offers a reassuring smile.

“Then I’ll always cherish the memory of the thief and her little black cat who stole my heart.”

Your breath catches at her words, her sincerity cutting through the lingering doubt.

For a moment, time seems to pause, and the world around you fades away, leaving only the undeniable connection between you.

A soft huff escapes you, somewhere between disbelief and gratitude. Shaking your head lightly, you murmur in admiration.

“You really are something else, Miss Black Widow.”

Natasha’s smile lingers, soft and bittersweet, even as she watches you board the shuttle to leave the prison a short time later.

Widow presses her tiny face against the glass, her golden eyes watching Natasha intently. In response, Natasha raises a hand in a small wave, her gaze lingering on you and the feline until the vehicle pulls away.

Even after the shuttle disappears from view, Natasha remains standing, her heart heavy yet resolute. She knows she’s done the right thing, giving you the freedom to choose your own path—even if it means you’re no longer in her life.

Tony’s arrival beside her breaks her reverie, his expression equal parts amused and curious.

“I can’t believe, after all that, you didn’t get the girl,” he quips, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “Seriously, Nat, next time you’ve got a crush, I’ll give you some tips. They’re foolproof.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, brushing his hand off as she turns toward the car that’ll take them back to the compound.

“Let’s go,” she says, her tone firm but calm. “We’ve still got work to do.”

Tony follows her, grumbling under his breath, but Natasha doesn’t hear him. Her mind is already returning to a life of training and missions, even as the faint echo of your parting smile lingers in her thoughts.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The seasons have changed since that day months ago, the vibrant green giving way to winter’s icy embrace. Barren trees stand silent and still, their branches dusted with frost, while a fresh layer of snow blankets the ground.

The world moves on, but some things remain the same.

Natasha’s breaths puff visibly in the cold air as her steady footsteps crunch against the frozen trail.

As usual, running and training is still her method of escape, a way to clear her mind and soothe her thoughts.

Today, her pace slows as she nears a familiar spot.

She stops by the same tree she had stood beneath all those months ago, her hands resting on her hips as she catches her breath.

The world around her is silent except for the faint wind rustling through the branches above. The chill of the morning air feels sharper here, but it’s not enough to distract her from the wave of nostalgia washing over her.

Natasha glances upward toward the branches, her eyes scanning the limbs as if expecting to see a flash of black fur clinging precariously to one of them.

But like many times before, the branches are empty.

With a small sigh, she shakes her head, chiding herself for entertaining the idea.

It’s been months since she last saw or heard from you and Widow. You had both disappeared from her life after your release, and she told herself she shouldn’t dwell on what she couldn’t change.

It was your decision.

Just as she’s about to move on and continue her run, she hears it—a soft, curious meow.

From below?

Natasha blinks, her head snapping downward to find a familiar pair of yellow eyes staring up at her from the base of the tree.

The cat sits neatly by her feet, tilting her head in that same inquisitive way Natasha remembered, her gold tag jingling at her collar as the inscribed name glints off the metal in the early light.

“Widow?” Natasha whispers, her voice laced with disbelief.

The cat meows again as if confirming her identity before turning her gaze to the tree behind her. Without hesitation, she leaps and latches onto the bark, her claws digging in as she prepares to climb.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Natasha mutters, quickly lunging forward. She catches Widow mid-climb, cradling the cat securely in her arms before she can get herself stuck again.

Widow lets out a protesting meow, swatting at Natasha’s chin in mock indignation.

Natasha laughs softly, the sound tinged with fondness as she holds the little troublemaker close.

“Some things never change,” she murmurs, stroking her fur gently.

A crunch of snow behind her breaks the peaceful moment.

Natasha turns, her heart skipping at the sight of you approaching.

You walk toward her with a small smile, your hands tucked into the pockets of your jacket.

Stopping a few feet away, you tilt your head, a teasing glint in your eyes.

“You have my cat,” you say, your tone light but familiar.

Natasha huffs a small laugh, shaking her head slightly as the familiarity of the moment settles between you.

“Your cat was about to get herself stuck in a tree again,” she replies, her voice laced with amusement. “I saved her.”

Widow, seemingly unfazed by the interaction, stretches lazily in Natasha’s arms before giving you an expectant chirp.

You step closer, reaching out to scratch behind her ears. The cat purrs contentedly, leaning into your touch.

“Always the hero, aren’t you, Miss Black Widow?” you quip, your gaze flicking up to meet hers.

Natasha smirks, her eyes narrowing slightly as they drop pointedly to the black leather jacket you’re wearing.

“Well, I’m no thief,” she retorts, her voice dry but playful.

You grin unabashedly, tugging the jacket closer around yourself.

“Finders keepers,” you say with a casual shrug.

Natasha shakes her head in mock exasperation, though there’s no mistaking the warmth that spreads through her chest at your familiar banter.

“Mind if we join you?” you ask, your voice softening as you gesture toward the trail.

Natasha glances down at Widow, nestled comfortably in her arms, then back at you. Her lips curve into a genuine smile, her tone light as she responds.

“I’d like that,” she says before adding with a teasing lilt, “But Widow stays with me.”

A soft laugh escapes you as you step closer, falling into stride beside her.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you reply.

Together, the three of you continue down the trail, the cold morning air no longer biting as it’s replaced by the warmth of laughter, soft meows, and the unexpected connection brought together by a little black cat.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: First fic post of the new year on here, and it's the finale of a series 😅. Endings are always bittersweet to write, and this one was really sad to let go.

Thank you all for reading and following along with this series!

The responses to this story have been amazing considering this originally started with just a simple oneshot about Natasha becoming friends with a little black cat. It was fun having their relationship grow and develop so much further, and I'm glad you all enjoyed it.

So technically, the main plotline is complete, but I may still come back to this universe with little side stories in the future, just because I am fond of these characters, so in happier news, it may not be the completely last time we see them. 😁

Taglist : @cd-4848, @carifletchersgirl, @skittlebum, @queen-of-chaotic-surprises, @ima-gi--na-tion, @rainix13, @gay4hotmilfs, @imaginexred, @caramelcat123, @2silverchain, @nowthisisliving27, @waltermis, @scarlettbitchx, @self-indulgent-writer, @ashadash0904, @alowint, @littlyamadeus, @so-to-aqui-pelas-fic, @imthenatynat, @transparentflapfarmsludge, @natashasilverfox, @mousetheorist, @btay3115, @samfunko, @wandaromamoff69, @lost-in-the-ice, @ahsatanizgay, @stonemags, @karsonromanoff, @wandanatlov3r, @l1kepeps1cvla, @esposadejoyhuerta, @fxckmiup, @panickedbabygay, @esposadejoyhuerta, @azaleavolkova, @gay4wandanat, @escapereality4music, @caspianalexander007, @henkermen, @xxnaiaxx, @alyssa-bessse, @alianovnasposts, @mrsriovidal, @thelonewriter247, @azaleavolkova, @tiffthemarvelnerd

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littlyamadeus · 5 months ago

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THE COMMISSION PT. 4 | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE

'The Commission' series: pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3.

Synopsis: You've been her personal mechanic for two years, but your growing reputation in the field has earned you dozens of clients and commissions. Sevika was looking for something fresh, durable and of good quality, and when it came to her sexual appetite, she only accepted the best. So she turned to you for a special commission.

Contains: arcane!sevika, feminine reader, lesbians, lots of dialogues, arcane universe, cannon sevika, mechanic!reader, wlw, slow burn baby 💋, several parts btw, nsfw, smut, fingering omgg

If you're underage, be responsible and don't consume smut content. I AIN'T YOUR MAMA TO SPANK YOUR ASS.

Word count: 5,384 (yes, things HAPPEN in this chapter)

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake in my writing. Enjoy!

Two years earlier

"I'm fine." Sevika murmured, in a tone that could scare anyone away. Except you.

Third day in a row you slept in Zaun's main square, you were cold and your stomach was asking for a more substantial dish than the cookies you could afford. You smelled of street, oil and rain, you were risking everything to get some money and sleep under a roof today.

Many warned you about Sevika, it was better not to mess with her or even show your nose, unless you were proposing a card game, a business or you were a lady-in-waiting. You were none of the three, but you trusted what your hands and your tools were capable of. You held the toolbox, keeping an upright posture even though inside you feared ending up in a dumpster or bleeding to death in the middle of the Last Drop.

"Your arm seems to need a checkup." You insisted. "I know the model, I assume you've had it for about five years, yeah?"

Sevika frowned, putting down the cards and letting out a puff of smoke. She didn't look convinced, more irritated. You insisted.

"I don't charge much."

Sevika flicked her eyes up and down your form, her expression stern. She had seen you before - a street rat, hanging around the less salubrious parts of the city. You were skinny, dirty, and reeked of poverty. You had no business approaching her, let alone with such audacity.

"And what makes you think you can fix it?” she scowled, her voice as harsh as sandpaper. "You some kind of mechanic?”

"Yes." you said, noticing the way Sevika was studying you. You couldn't call her out, you had to swallow your pride in order to swallow a decdent meal later, if everything goes right. "I used to work at Benzo's pawn shop, fixing unused appliances. I brought fine pieces back to life." you said, your eyes flickering to Sevika's mechanic arm. "Like yours."

Certainly Sevika was not pleased with your audacity, she was forced to answer for Silco to idiots, drug addicts, gang members and murderers, so you were just another one to add to the list.

"Used to?" she grunted, her eyes narrowing as she took another drag on her cigarette. "What, you get fired or something?"

"He's dead." you reminded her, knowing damn well Silco's goons were behind that.

Yes, you were bretraying yourself and your past by turning to Sevika to offer your services, but your situation wasn't getting any better. Not with a dead father, an absent mother, and debts to deal with. You should have known better, gambling leads to no good, neither does the air of Zaun. You fell victim to both, the first killed your father, the second probably killed your mother, you weren't sure. And the debt collectors were breathing down your neck.

She eyed you for a moment longer, her gaze weighing your worth. You were desperate, that much was obvious. And she couldn't help but see an opportunity in that. "Alright," she grunted, her voice gruff. "Let's say I let you take a look. What's it gonna cost me?"

You huffed, you were losing dignity there. "A meal." you shrugged. "And a sip of whiskey if you're feeling generous. But I assure you, I do a fine job."

"You'll get your meal and your shot of whiskey," she grumbled, knwoing she would regret giving you a chance. "But if you don't do a damn good job, I'll rip your pretty little head off."

"My head will stay above my shoulders..." you stated. "And your arm, brand new." you added.

Sevika raised her eyebrows, giving the guard a signal to let you come over and take a seat next to her on the couch. You had little time to prove that your offer was not talk but fact. You opened the toolbox, taking out a screwdriver to begin taking apart the arm and separating the pieces. The supply of Shimmer on top seemed novel, but predictable. You knew what to do

As you progressed with your work, Sevika's first impression about you began to crumble. Beneath the hollow cheeks and dark circles under her eyes was a beautiful girl intent on her task, with attentive eyes, deft fingers, and latent confidence. The woman then began to ask questions, hoping to intimidate you.

"How old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty-six."

"So young, and already out on the streets?" she grunted, her voice carrying a hint of mockery. "What, your parents throw you out or something?"

"They're dead." you mumbled. Sevika was holding her card with her flesh hand, still gambling while you were attending her prosthetic arm.

Your confession did not move her, having parents alive and present in Zaun was a privilege. However, her curiosity only increased. "Orphan?"

"You could say so." you said, glancing at the disassembled parts, studying the system of Sevika’s arm. The thermal paste needed changing, luckily you had some on you, the seals needed oil too, and some of the gears could use replacing.

"So you're just a street rat then," she said bluntly. "No family, no friends, nowhere to call home."

"Rat." you huffed. "I'm prettier than that." you might have been hungry, skinny and dirty, but you were a lot smarter and prettier than a goddamn rat.

"Maybe," she smirked. "But you still smell worse than one."

As Sevika took the time to mock you, your eyes were split between the arm and the opponents' play. You were sure that Sevika was taking a big risk by continuing to allow the cuprier to keep adding cards to the deck. "Stand," you whispered. "You're too close."

Sevika raised her eyebrow, planning to ignore you, however your comment didn't seem to be wrong. She let out a sigh before raising her hand to the cuprier. With that, the man turned over his cards. "Seventeen." The man said, to which you looked with pleased eyes at Sevika's nineteen.

"Agh, for fuck's sake." groaned one of the opponents, losing the bet. Blackjack was quite unpredictable, but you advised Sevika well; she hit the jackpot.

She chuckled, turning to look at you with a mix of surprise and respect. "Well then, not bad," she said, her voice gruff but impressed. "You really know your stuff."

"The rat's useful." you mumbled. "I have a name, though."

"I haven't asked your name." she replied, as she placed her just won chips on the pile.

"I rather you to remember the quality of my work than my name." you stated, assembling the arm back on Sevika. You turned the last screws, applied oil to the parts, and finally inserted the supply of Shimmer into the shoulder compartment, clicking your tongue. "Set and done, miss."

As the arm connected to her system, Sevika immediately noticed the fluidity of the gears and the restored sensitivity of the metal fingers. She flexed her arm and stretched it out, looking at you with a half-smile. It was all she would give you, along with an, "And here I thought I would rip your head off."

Before you could accept the praise wholeheartedly, there was this sudden commotion in the club. Another bastard too immersed in Shimmer to contain himself had entered, knocking out the guards with just the touch of a hand, and actually, knocking down everything in his path.

Fuck.

Sevika tensed, eyes flickering to the situation. She recognized the signs of a Shimmer-induced maniac, and knew damn well the trouble that could follow.

"Gods," she growled under her breath. "Not this bastard again."

Sevika quickly rose from her seat, her eyes watching the Shimmer-fueled maniac with a steely glare. It was only a matter of time before he would turn his attention to the rest of the bar, and Sevika knew she had to act fast. One of the other players had already fled, hiding behind the wall near the bar. The other stood frozen in fear, unable to speak or move. But you remained calm, your eyes on Sevika, awaiting her next move.

Sevika looked more irritated than alert, she moved her mechanical arm and walked towards the purple beast in front of her, her bearing filling the entire place, her confidence latent. You watched the fight unfold with a smile, the arm worked like a charm and there was no denying that you did a great job, especially when Sevika pulled the opponent’s leg against her and her elbow landed on the knee joint, bending the limb at an unnatural angle, followed by a punch capable of sending him flying through the air and landing in front of the bar. You drank from her glass, watching the guards carry the unconscious opponent away and Sevika letting out a sigh. The music began playing again.

Sevika raised an eyebrow, and by then you had realized that it was a habit of hers, and before scolding you for your attitude and your audacity in drinking from her glass, the woman called for the waiter. "Bring the girl dinner, and a glass of whiskey." she mumbled.

"I like it with soda," you added, smiling pleased from the couch.

Sevika rolled her eyes. "With soda," she said.

When you had already filled your stomach and calmed your nerves with a good whiskey, Sevika reappeared through the door. She had disappeared during your dinner, but returned to the room with a small bag of coins between her fingers and a less cold look than before; you could read the ambition on her face.

"For the arm repair," Sevika said, placing the pouch next to you on the table. To it, she added a small card with an address and the Silco symbol on the bottom, known as the "Eye of Zaun."

You knew that card was your golden ticket.

"This..." she said lowly. "Is a way to keep yourself fed and off the streets, if you're interested."

As you nodded, Sevika leaned in to whisper in a tone that made you shudder. Her scent of tobacco wafted into your nose, her closeness overwhelming. "Report to this address tomorrow at 8. Not a single minute later. We'll talk business when the time comes."

"Yes, ma'am." you said, making Sevika grin.

"Sevika." she said. "I am not into formality."

With that, she walked away, leaving you with a job opportunity and a pouch full of coins.

You did it. You fucking did it.

And tomorrow you would prove that your actions weren't just talk but pure merit. You counted the coins, it was enough for a hotel room and half of what you owed Horner. You smiled, he's always been good faking a Shimmer overdose.

As the days went by, you went from rat to girl. You met Silco, you closed a deal for private services to the organization, you took care of the maintenance of machinery, clothing and weapons. You were a full-time worker, you spent your hours within the four walls of the workshop, living off of coffee, bread, fruit and whiskey. Sevika watched you from the beginning, it was the task that Silco had entrusted to her; "Keep an eye on the girl, make her work and keep her mouth shut."

And that's what you did.

When the time came, you went from girl to mechanic. The workshop was not only your workplace, but your temple. Silco allowed you to accept external orders, you began to build a business that not only gave you autonomy, but also colored your cheeks, filled out your muscles and gave you the beauty that poverty had taken from you.

It was then that you went from mechanic to sweetheart. And Sevika forced herself to keep her distance, but the numerous appointments to check her arm, the jokes, the glances and the talks had loosened this armor against you. Now you ate full dinners, steaks, roasted vegetables, drank lemonade and replaced coffee with Shimmer, with Sevika as your only provider.

That was her mistake.

She thought she had done you a favor by providing you the doses. You worked better, your efficiency was through the roof, your performance impeccable. But that night, seeing you unconscious on the floor of her office, surrounded by paramedics and pale as snow, Sevika knew that you ended up like this because of her.

Her fault. Her damn fault.

"You've allowed this." said Silco, dragging from his cigar. He seemed quite unbothered by the situation, considering your incident as another problematic worker that couldn't control herself. All businesses have causalities, however, this wasn't just any. "She wasn't supposed to be at your office."

Your inert eyes, the way your body lay languid, a purple substance coming out of the corner of your mouth as if your insides were melting, the paramedics trying to revive a being whose life was hanging by a thread. It was a nightmare.

"She's dead." The paramedic said.

Dead.

You died for her.

Because of her.

"Ah!" Sevika sat up suddenly, a drop of sweat wetting the back of her neck when her eyes landed on the halo of moonlight that was leaking through the window. She had dreamed of the accident again.

She wiped the sweat from her neck with a quick gesture and took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Just a dream, she told herself, just a damn dream.

Sevika didn't even stop to put her mechanical arm on, which was resting next to her bed, but left the room at a quick pace and uncovered your sleeping figure on the living room couch.

You were fine.

You were curled up on the couch, your bandaged wrist resting next to your face, serene and calm. Your breathing reminded Sevika that you were still alive, even though you threatened to die on the old wooden floor of her office a month ago. But you were too stubborn to die from an overdose. You shifted in your spot, the breeze biting at your skin in the absence of the blanket over you, and when you opened your eyes you found the immense silhouette of Sevika before you. You screamed.

Sevika winced at your sharp cry, her hand reaching out instinctively to cover your mouth, to silence the sound before it echoed through the apartment.

"Shhh!" she hissed, her eyes darting towards the main door. The last thing she needed was for someone to think she was murdering someone in there.

"Quiet, quiet," she whispered, her hand still firmly over your mouth. "You'll wake the whole damn block with that shrieking."

Your heart skipped a beat before connecting two coherent thoughts and realizing it was Sevika. The woman pulled her hand away. "Fuck, don't stand in front of me like that again," you gasped. "I thought it was the grim reaper."

She took a step back, giving you some breathing room. "Believe me, he must have more important things to attend to," she said, her voice still low. "Just came to check on you. Didn't mean to scare you like that."

You sat up, reaching out to turn the oil lamp on. Sevika was still on her tank top and boxers, it was unusual to see her without the prosthetic arm. "I'm fine." you said. "You could've came to check in the morning, damn... what time it is?" you asked.

It's three," she replied, her tone still hushed. "Go back to sleep, girl. I just... wanted to make sure you were alright."

The lamplight outlined Sevika's silhouette, you could see the sweat on her neck and a certain pallor on her face. You assumed it was another nightmare, you already knew about them, but you avoided bringing them up because every time you did, she would shut you up with an "I'm fine, girl, go to sleep."

You watched her walk towards the balcony, a pack of cigarettes in her hand and a deep sigh leaving her lips. When she had the cigarette between her lips, you were suddenly beside her, lighting it up. “What’s really going on?” you asked.

"Can't a woman just enjoy her smoke in peace?" she grumbled, taking a drag from the cigarette. But there was no real malice in her voice, just a touch of weariness. She leaned against the balcony railing, the metal cool beneath her bare arm.

You sighed, coming up against a wall again. Sevika was impenetrable, so much so that you didn't know what was going through her mind unless she said it, and you could certainly assume it had to do with her nightmares, but you didn't dare to intrude on her fears. Still, you stayed next to her on the balcony, your stomach aching as the first sign of withdrawal.

The first few days were atrocious, you trembled and vomited every hour, you believed that dying was more pleasant than enduring such nausea and fits of anger and pain. However, Sevika stood firm by your side, brought you to her apartment and such a nurse, kept track of your symptoms and silenced them with the medicines the doctor had prescribed you. More than once, she stayed next to you on the couch, talking to you about trivialities or reading a book until the sleeping pill took effect and you could sleep. Only then did Sevika allow herself to stroke your forehead and relive the guilt of the accident.

Sevika had lived long enough to witness the effects of Shimmer on people. It didn't just destroy wills, it destroyed bodies and minds. The mutations from overuse of Shimmer were morbid and grotesque, luckily you didn't experience any, but that didn't make seeing you on the office floor, languid, pale, with your eyes open any less terrifying. Silco saw Sevika lose her temper for the first time in his life.

"I shouldn't have let you take those doses," she finally muttered, the words coming out with a hint of gravel in her voice. "I should've found a different way. This..." she gestured to you, the signs of her failure still lingering in the bags under your eyes and the scars along your arms, "...this is on me. My fault."

So that's what it was all about; guilt. Sevika had learned to take the blame for other people, to take responsibility for other people's mistakes, and this time was no different. Yes, she made a mistake by giving you doses of Shimmer for two years, but you were the one who decided to relapse. And you took all the blame. "Nobody forced me to relapse that day, Sevika." you stated. "And nobody could've stopped me neither, not even you."

For a moment, she was quiet, mulling over your words, the smoke from her cigarette spiraling up into the night air.

“You shouldn’t be the one consoling me, girl,” she said finally, the vulnerability in her tone betraying her gruff exterior. “I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.”

"We both know that a worker isn't taken care of the way you take care of me," you stated, your words implying more than what they said.

"You've never been a mere worker for me," she stated, letting out a puff of smoke, moving away into the air. Zaun was quiet, as if the city had stopped the day you nearly died. "Sometimes I can't stand you, you don't know when to back off."

You reached for her cigarette, taking a drag. "I never learned to back off."

“Of course, you didn’t,” she said, a note of resignation in her voice. “You’re as stubborn as they come. Should’ve known from the beginning that I’d have my hands full with you.”

And here you were, two years later, sleeping on her couch and making her coffee in the mornings, refusing to die without proving once again that you are many things, but not a street rat.

You had already settled into a routine. Sevika would leave early in the morning, usually returning at noon to check on you. You always waited for her with a cigarette and a cup of coffee, you started adding a touch of whiskey when you realized she liked it. You used to keep the apartment clean, read the books Sevika kept, play with her cards and sometimes take out your tools and make crafts or repair unused items, even though Sevika had forbidden you to work until you had recovered.

"Your recovery comes first, girl. Go easy."

Sometimes you found yourself chatting with her on the balcony, taking drags from her cigarette and oiling her mechanical arm, before daring to ask how her day was, absorbing her worries and whispering a "you always put up with too much, Sev" afterwads, only for her to shrug and light another cigarette. Being her tenant had allowed you to see Sevika in a much more intimate setting, without the need to maintain the impenetrable facade. You watched her sleep, yawn, train, and even cook; your favorite was the mushroom stew with enhacium powder. It was quite the meal, always leaving you with a heavy stomach and a pleasant drowsiness, although your tongue took the brunt of the sting of the powder. Sevika could feel you starting to itch as your cheeks colored, and with a smile, she would hand you the lemonade.

You were embarrassed to admit it, even more so considering that the overdose could have killed you, but you were grateful that circumstances led you to live with Sevika. Sometimes you wished you had done it sooner, but you remembered the way she reacted when you woke up in the hospital and regretted it.

"Don't you ever do that to me again, girl, understood? Never again." she said, agitated, holding your hand in hers.

You could never apologize enough to take the blame off Sevika's chest, so you just limited yourself to being a good roommate.

"Would you mind helping me with the painkiller?" you asked then, placing the cigarette between Sevika's lips. Despite having started the methadone treatment more than a month ago, it still gave you the shivers to handle the syringe.

"Of course," she said simply, her voice a mix of gruffness and understanding. "Let me do it."

You two sat down on the couch, Sevika holding the cigarette between her lips as she wrapped the elastic around your arm and tightened it. You didn’t admit it out loud, but ever since you’d been staying at Sevika’s apartment, your favorite time of day was when she helped you with the methadone. You loved the way her eyes focused on you, her thumb gently searching for your vein, commanding you to close your fist, then after piercing your skin, whispering “there you go,” pulling the needle back out before caressing the mark with her finger and purring “good girl.” She made you feel special, you were pampered by a woman who didn’t pamper anyone, and it was exhilarating in the most unusual way.

You thought you could take a thousand injections if it meant continuing to be Sevika’s good girl.

"Easy as pie," she said, her voice a rough whisper. "No pain, no drama." she added, disposing of the syringe in the trash can.

You watched her put out her cigarette in the ashtray, expecting her to sit next to you and wait for you to fall asleep like she always did. You had gotten used to hearing her voice by now. Just then, the first hit of the drug bathed you. It was always the strongest, however after a few weeks, the dose had decreased and only gave you a pleasant drowsiness.

"You're getting sleepy." she said. "Good."

Sevika watched as your eyelids fluttered shut, your body slumping back against the couch. The drug had done its work, a gentle drowsiness seeping into your limbs and calming your nerves. You felt an arm wrap around your waist, Sevika lifted you over her shoulder and carefully carried you to her bed. "It's too damn cold in the living room," was her excuse, even though you didn't ask for one. The bed was still warm, wide and the sheets smooth. Sevika wasn't lying when she said she prefers her whiskey neat and her bed soft.

She turned off the lamp, snuggling up to you, keeping a prudent distance that at the moment seemed ridiculous to you. "Do I scare you?" you teased her.

"Scare me?" she huffed. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Come closer then." you said, pushing your luck just enough. And Sevika seemed to give in.

You rested your head on her chest, allowing yourself to inhale her scent and feel the beat of her heart; it was slow, imposing, just like her. Sevika frowned, ignoring the urge to bury her nose in your hair and entwine her legs with yours. You heard her sigh, you were dozing off by then. "Rest, girl, you need it."

Sevika wasn’t the best early riser, but she woke up in a better mood that morning. A hand around your waist, her nose on your neck as if your scent alone had calmed all her nightmares, and it did. You were still asleep, comfortable and serene while she spooned you, unaware that Sevika pulled you close to her, taking in your cleavage from where she was; your shirt had shifted in the night, revealing more of your skin.

Look away, Sevika, get a grip.

Sevika sighed against your neck, knowing she was treading unfamiliar and inappropriate territory, but she couldn't help it. Her hand found the edge of your tank top, pulling it down just to reveal your breasts; smooth, tender and full.

No, she shouldn't, but... she wanted to? Absolutely.

Her lips found the sensitive area of your neck, trailing kisses and nips down to your shoulders and collarbone, daring to squeeze one of your tits between her fingers. You shifted on your place, the air biting on your bare chest managed to draw your attention and Sevika pulled her hands off, as if she was spooked of herself.

What the hell am I doing?

"Mhm..." you uttered, your hand seeking for Sevika's, bringing it back towards your chest. "Don't stop." you whispered, your eyes still closed.

Sevika gulped, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her body as she reached out again, catching your breast between her fingers and massaging it gently, peppering kisses down your neck, your cheek, your shoulder. You felt her abdomen press harder against your back, you shifted your ass against her, half asleep but perfectly aware of what was happening, and you wouldn’t let her stop.

She grunted against your neck, her hand squeezing harder your breast. "Don't move," she growled softly, her breath hot against your ear. "Stay just like this."

You moaned, your hand reaching her cheek, urging her to touch you, to kiss you. Your eyes fluttered open as she ran her hand down your stomach, teasing your lower belly, down to your legs, the inner side of your thighs. "Sev..." you purred.

"I'm here," she whispered against your ear. "I've got you."

"Shit." you whimpered, your eyes shutting once she slipped her hand into your shorts, settling between your legs. That's all you needed to fully wake up. "Ah, god." you panted, feeling her fingers against your slick.

"You're so wet for me, aren't you?" she breathed against your ear, her words sending a shiver down your spine. She pressed kisses along your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. "Yes, you are."

As much confidence Sevika showed, the truth was that inside she was shaking with fear. She was crossing a line she had imposed on herself when she met you two years ago, and she had never felt so out of control as she did now. It wasn’t just your moans, it was your scent, your heat, the idea that she was the one who gave you the opportunity that night at the club and now you were lying on her bed, squirming under her hand. She forged this situation from the moment she laid eyes on you, not knowing that you intended to end up in this position ever since she leaned in and her tobacco scent filled your nostrils. You intended to work for Sevika, to be her confidant, her best partner and above all… to become her weak point.

You pulled your head back, moaning as Sevika parted your legs and eased a finger inside you, licking your ear. "Sleeping on my couch, playing with my cards, wearing my clothes while I'm gone; all you've done to end up here." she mumbled, easing a second one, knowing you could take it.

"Yes, I... I did it." you whimpered, gripping the sheets between your fingers.

"You were testing me." she stated, biting on your neck. "Always pushing my buttons to see when I would give in."

You knew Sevika wasn't just playing around with you when she rubbed the heel of her hand against your clit, already swollen and sensitive for her. The room was filled with the obscene sound of your slick, your moans and Sevika's words. "Legs apart." she commanded. "You never learned to follow instructions, learn now." she said.

"Yes, ma'am." you whined, before Sevika chuckled.

"Didn't I tell you I'm not into formality?"

She could never forget the details of the time they met, no. Not when she was the one who saw you enter the club with your toolbox, your tired eyes, your steely confidence. Not when she was the one who asked Silco for a job opportunity for you and paid you with her own coins. Not when she chose you, for herself, from the first moment.

You were hers from the beggining, and somehow you knew it.

Her hand continued to work between your legs, her fingers moving expertly, making pleasurable heat pool in your belly. "You can pretend to be tough all you want, but when you're with me, you're not."

Your legs were locking around her hand, your breathing quick and ragged as Sevika sped up the motion of her fingers. Fuck, you were starting to shake, that tickling sensation settling in your stomach.

"You and your insolent mouth, your smug smile…" she whispered. "I wanted them for myself, I always did." You shifted, knowing that if Sevika had the mechanical arm on, she would already be choking you. However, you felt her move over you, trapping you against the mattress.

"Sevika… I'm…" you mewled, realizing you were on the very edge. "Huh, please..."

"I know." she smiled, as she laid above you, her hand firmly working on your throbbing pussy. "Now kiss me, pretty girl. Earn it."

You cupped her cheeks, kissing her as much as your moans would allow, tasting the tobacco on her tongue, her teeth between your lips. Sevika kissed like she walked, and that was saying a lot. You pulled back, realizing the trembling of your legs was the hint of an orgasm you couldn't contain. "Oh... god...!" you cried against her lips before you dove into the sensation.

And you melted.

Sevika leaned down to kiss your chin, your neck, totally in love with your whimpers and trembling lips, your smell of sweat, your juicy pussy. You barely rode the high when Sevika kissed your belly, a hand tracing fingers on your knee as her mouth hovered over your core. "I could lick it off of you, y'know?" she smirked.

You were in no position to ask or deny anything, but Sevika was in the perfect position to tempt you and play on your desire. “If only I didn’t have that meeting with Silco in…” she glanced at the clock beside the bed. “Ten minutes.”

Oh, no.

"Ten minutes is more than enough." you said, even though it sounded like a plea.

But Sevika chuckled, leaning to place a kiss on your lips. "I don't rush things when I eat a pretty girl out." she stated, leaving the bed.

You propped yourself up on your elbow, staring at Sevika with your lips apart. Unfazed, she took the mechanical arm and connected it to her shoulder, glancing at you with a rose brow.

"Wait for me with the coffee ready," she said, walking to the dresser to get ready. "I'll finish what I started, sugar, don't worry."

To be continued...

taglist: @lez-zuha @amoraeu @nikaachuuuu @furrytaesss @elliecoochieeater @n-noctiss @emmanetalias @sevikashairbrush @lipglosskxsses @chaosfieldflower @kairuvhen @moodient @izzy120 @bonemarrowstew @abbysunderwear @batman-2 @karmalovessimonriley @fandomsinthegalaxies @fudosl @femme-historian @poprostuhybryda-blog @kifuqe @xblinkx2 @tamikahoshiko @lia-winther @https-mika @armeenix @bambishaven @xblinkx2 @luvg1s3l1e @dopemusiccowboy @imheadintothemountains @lilithyys @soullessbody @lavendersgirl @lovesickdreamer @makaylaislovely @demonofpuns @celestialst4r @ilovehotd @emmanetalias @bethany-l87 @marah280 @srtuna @jannesyjane @victoriaanne9 @rottngrl3 @depressedqueersocialists @slut4sevika @fragilsnoopy @stmvivs @sillystarv @vyvvycg

Also, I haven't stopped to thank u all for your reception of this series. It makes me absolutely happy you girls like it so far! Thank u all <3

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littlyamadeus · 5 months ago

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Oh my favorite girl

Caitlyn: I'm cold..

Vi: Here, take my jacket <3

[Meanwhile]

You: It's kind of chilly-

Sevika: *aggressively rips off her cape and wraps it around you* why didn't you tell me earlier??? *grabs a hat off some random passerby's head and puts it on your head* didn't I tell you to wear layers when it's cold? *wraps arms around you* if you catch a cold don't blame me, you dumbass

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littlyamadeus · 5 months ago

Text

The Same but Different

Synopsis: your relationship with Sue is fun and free but things become a little more complicated when Elisabeth Sparkle joins the fray.

Pairing: Sue x fem!reader, Elisabeth Sparkle x fem!reader

Words: 5.1k+

A/N - not a lot of the substance fanfiction, huh? I could probably write more where the reason sue starts stealing time is because she feels like she has to compete with elisabeth for the reader's attention... but for now have this :)

WARNINGS - canon divergence (takes place in a universe where sue respects the balance and uses the split personality theory.). swearing and mild sexual references. cheating in a sense?? idk

The seemingly ever-lasting sparkle of moonlight delicately caresses every curve of her body. A perfect silhouette. An almost angelic glow as she straddles your hips. Running her hands gently against the soft surface of your stomach. It sends a shiver up your spine. Each move is thought out. Calculated. She's taking her time. Savouring every ounce of bare skin before going for the kill.

"I'm... I'm trying to talk to you," announced breathlessly. Her actions were deliberate and distracting. She did not care for conversation; she had other things in mind.

"I'm listening," whispered against the skin of your neck. Breath so tantalisingly warm. It makes your head spin. The feeling of her so close. So desperate.

"Sue, please." the vibrations of her hum tickle.

"I'm listening, I promise," she insists again ever so quietly. "go on,"

"I just- I was thinking we should go on a trip or something,"

"I can't," sharp pain shoots through your shoulder as she sinks her teeth in. It draws a gasp past your lips and you feel her smile. Amused with herself.

"Sue," you utter softly. An attempt to get her to stop so easily ignored as she nips at your skin. A mix of pleasure. A touch of pain. It's hard to stay focused. "maybe just a day then? next week?"

And the sensation stops. Her head falls into the crook of your neck. A loud sigh. It's a moment before she lifts to look at you. Puffy lips and glossed-over eyes. "you know I can't."

"then maybe I could come with you instead," you suggest. Slipping your hands over the curve of her hips, you pull her a little closer. She reaches for you. Thumbs brushing delicately over your cheeks. It tickles.

"you wouldn't have much fun,"

"but I'd get to spend time with you," you counter, leaning into her touch. A warm smile.

"she doesn't like strangers."

Now it was your turn to sigh. Soft but apparent. Not the first time. Probably not the last. She was a very busy woman who had to be out of town every other week and it happened like clockwork. It was amazing how committed she was to the arrangement. Never a day missed. But it didn't serve well for forming any kind of connection because she became unreachable for a week. She'll disappear. No texts. No calls. Nothing. "it's just one day,"

"babe," a much softer expression as she held your gaze. "maybe we can do something when I'm back."

"Because you have so much time in between your taping, photoshoots and interviews?"

"we're together now," her voice low, she rolls her hips into you. Keeping your head still and eyes locked on hers. "can't you enjoy it?"

"you know what I mean," your eyes flicker down. The mood was lost to the moment of rejection. It wasn't entirely her fault but you can't help but blame her. "can you get off me, please?"

There's a brief moment of pause. Her eyes search your face for an explanation before she climbs off, settling on her knees just beside you. "are you really upset?"

"let's just go to sleep," you lay down in her bed, pulling the covers up and over herself. It's a moment of undisturbed quiet before you feel the bed shift.

Maybe you had overreacted. You knew the kind of person Sue was and you can't fault her for having a sick mother. It's probably really tough to deal with. It was pure selfishness that you wanted a real moment alone with her so you figured an apology wouldn't hurt. Which is how you ended up walking up the stairs of her apartment building so early in the morning with a fresh mocha latte. It was her week away but you figured maybe you'd be able to catch her before she leaves. You knock a few times and wait. You can hear movement from inside so someone was definitely home and just taking forever to answer the door. You knock again. a little louder this time. Eventually, the door opens just as you begin composing an inquisitive message.

"Hey, so I wanted to apologise before you left" you explain shoving your phone back into its pocket. Only for your eyes to settle on a complete stranger. An older woman. Familiar and yet not. "you're not sue."

"no," replied softly. You glance around to make sure you're in the right place,

"This is ten fifty-seven Beverly Canyon, right?" you question. She nods. "weird. Sorry to bother you," you offer a smile and she just closes the door. That was strange. This was definitely her place, you've been here enough times now and never seen that lady. You probably just missed her. got up early for nothing.

It's radio silence from Monday to Sunday as per usual. You never really hold it against her. She was pretty good at texting back when she was in town. She probably just wants to focus on her mother while away. Sitting in the middle of the bed, you watch as she gets changed. "there was a weird lady in your apartment."

"huh?" she turns to you briefly as she undoes the hoops in her ears.

"I tried to catch you before you left but some lady answered. An older woman. Long black hair. Didn't say much. She seemed confused."

"Oh," Sue replied. "don't worry about it."

"was she like your aunt or something?" Sue tosses her earring down before turning to you. a small smile as she crawls up the bed. Slow and sultry, she climbs into your lap. Resting her head on one leg and putting her arms around you.

"I was thinking about what you said," Sue starts, pulling herself closer

"I'm sorry," you reply quickly. That was probably the first thing you should have done but your apology quickly slipped your mind. "looking after your mother is important and I'm just a selfish asshole."

"I was gonna say we should do something" she replies. "but I'll take the apology."

A glint of hope was quickly subdued by her proven record. You run your fingers through her soft hair. "are you serious?"

"I'll sort something out," she hums. "It's just one extra day, right?" it's hard to believe her but you take her at face value. Smile settling on your lips.

"just one night. I'll plan something- I'll even pick you up and everything."

Sue gives a dramatic gasp as she pushes herself up. "such a gentleman," she teases, a smirk as a gentle hand comes to your chest. Applying pressure so you'll fall backwards. You comply.

"gotta keep my girl happy," hand either side of your head, she is towering over you. Looking down with a smirk.

"Oh, so I'm your girl now?" curious raise of her brow.

"right now you are," you reply. Reaching for the collar of her t-shirt, you pull her down towards you. "it'll be cute." whisper before your lips meet.

You try to think of something the two of you can do that would be cute but casual. It couldn't just be like getting coffee because you can already do that. Dinner was too basic too. There were movies or exhibitions but again it felt like something you could just do whenever. A few hours and done. You eventually decide to take a drive out to Joshua Tree. Wasn't your usual hang-out but it'd just be you two out and you could talk and look at the stars. And have a little picnic. And as much as doubt sat in the back of your head, you eagerly climbed the stairs to her apartment once more. A certain pep in your step. But when you knock and the door opens, it is not sue. It's the same woman as last time. You stare at her for a moment as realisation settles in your mind. "uh... is Sue here?" she shakes her head. She wasn't much for conversation. "do you know when she'll be back? This is her apartment."

"no."

"no you don't know when she'll be back or no this isn't her apartment?"

"she's away for the week," they reply.

"oh." of fucking course. "why did I ever expect anything different," the other woman just stares at you. "she's supposed to be here," and then shrugs, clearly a little confused. "do you mind if I just grab my jacket then? I think I left it here the other night?"

"I don't think-"

"Great." you kind of don't wait for an answer, slipping past the older woman. "any chance you want to drive out into the desert with a stranger? I had this whole thing planned with Sue and well, you know the rest,"

"I don't think that's a good idea- I'm just a little busy," she insists. You look around the apartment. This was definitely Sue's apartment. Everything was where you expected. Felt almost wrong being here without her. The TV was on. Half-eaten plate of food sat on the small table. You turn to her. It was almost midday.

"yeah. You look real busy," you tease continuing further into her apartment. You can hear loud mumbles of words as you focus on finding your jacket. Who knows what she's saying but it's probably just excuses or demands to leave. Why was Sue so messy? Couldn't she hang up your stuff or hand deliver it to your place? That would be nice. You eventually find your jacket tossed on the floor in the bedroom. "why aren't you ready?" you ask. Offering a smile as you reenter the living space.

"what do you mean?"

"come on, I haven't got all day, go get whatever you need," you insist, heading for the door. "we leave in ten."

You never expected her to actually listen. She was a grown woman who could make her own decisions. But now you're trapped in a car with a woman you don't know driving like two hours out of town. She is sat silently in the passenger seat staring out of the window. You wonder if you should say something? Surely this was as awkward for her as it was currently feeling for you. Maybe you were just overthinking. "I finally figured out where I know you from."

"huh?" she turns to you before adjusting her posture. A gentle smile. A warm strip of sunlight across her face.

"you're Elisabeth Sparkle, right?" it had taken a moment to figure out who she was. She looked so similar to Sue, you just assumed they were related rather than she had a superstar looking after her apartment every other week. "sparkle up life or something like that?"

"sparkle your life," she nods a little. "with Elisabeth. yes."

"oh my god," thank god you didn't mistake her for someone else or this would have been embarrassing. It's pretty cool that Sue knows someone so famous. It makes sense that she'd have some kind of connection to the industry considering her sudden breakout but Elisabeth sparkle was unexpected. "the great Elisabeth sparkle looking after an apartment every other week- stars they're just like us." she just shrugs returning to looking out the window. Not very chatty for a Hollywood star. You put on some music to help break up the tension

It's warm and dry as you pick the perfect spot. The sun wouldn't set for a little while yet. You lay out the blankets and the basket you brought along. You had originally planned to camp out with but you're not sure that'll work for Elisabeth. Sleeping in a national park with a stranger probably wasn't part of her plan today. The awkwardness of the car ride still lingers between the two of you. You don't know what to say. Small talk was never your strong suit and what you could manage had already been wasted on the car ride here.

"so how do you know Sue?" you figure that's a safe topic. The one thing that connects you. "family? friends?"

There's a moment where you think she's not gonna answer. It wasn't exactly a hard question but she seemed so hesitant to answer.

"feels like I've known her forever."

Your brow furrows. Still so vague. "so you knew her as a kid?"

"no, not really what I meant. We're just..." a shrug. "how do you know her? You're clearly quite close."

You laugh a little. "close. sure."

"Why is that funny?"

"I don't know," you shrug. "we met at a party and have been hanging out ever since."

"That's all?"

"kinda," what more did she want? You lean back on the palm of your hands. Staring out into the desert. So big. So empty.

"so you go on weird trips into the desert to see the stars with all your friends?" like going camping with friends wasn't a completely normal thing to do? You don't press the matter. It's not worth the energy.

"Well, I never said we were just friends. It's more complicated than that," you explain, glancing briefly at Elisabeth who was apparently looking at you the whole time.

"what's complicated?

She makes you laugh again. There was nothing simple about Sue. "we hang out but there's no like official label. Sue does whatever she wants and that's fine."

"you kids and your labels. It used to be so much easier,"

"Maybe,"

"I didn't even know Sue was..." Her voice trails off a little and you start to wonder if you've just outed her to Hollywood legend Elisabeth Sparkle. You didn't know if it was a secret or not. Didn't make sense that it would be.

"Anyway- what about you?" a desperate attempt to change the conversation. "married? boyfriend?"

a slight chuckle. "gosh no."

"girlfriend?" you tease, offering a half smile. She thankfully takes it quite well. "wife, maybe?"

"no, no, nothing like that," a dismissive wave of her hand. "it's kinda always just been me."

"that's surprising," you insist. "you're literally stunning."

A much more audible laugh. "you don't have to say that."

"I'm literally just stating a fact," you explain, "nobody can deny it."

"many can and have. Happens when you get older." you don't doubt that. The world was cruel to women but Elisabeth wasn't exactly a normal case. She was a living legend with access to all kinds of resources. Not to mention the fact that she was genuinely beautiful. Perhaps one of the prettiest people you've ever met. You see a lot of sue in her.

"nooo don't be silly," you sit up a little straighter, moving so you're sat looking in her direction. "I know plenty of people who like older women and you're hot as fuck."

"I'll keep that in mind." she nods but you know she doesn't believe you as she turns away. Your head tilts a little. Watching her bring a bottle of water to her lips.

"I'm serious. I could get you laid real quick."

"oh my god," choked out through her water. You were mostly joking although you definitely know there are a great many people who'd kill to be where you are right now.

"sorry."

"It's fine." she coughs. You scramble for a napkin or something. Probably something you should have prepared.

"no, I shouldn't have said that," you reply, finding a pack of tissues. You hand them over. "it was inappropriate."

"It's fine. Honestly," Elisabeth replies, taking the tissues. Her hand brushes against yours and she smiles. A gentle smile. A genuine smile. "sweet in its own way."

It's mid-afternoon when there is a knock against the door. You ignore it. But it happens again and again until eventually give in. You weren't expecting anyone and usually delivery drivers just leave your stuff if you don't answer. This was likely either very important or a very determined Jehovah's Witness about to try and convert you. But as you open the door and see the ever-enchanting sue, it somehow feels worse. You immediately shove the door but she stops it before you can close it. "just hear me out."

"fuck off."

"I'm sorry, okay," you stop fighting her to shut the door. "it won't happen again."

"That's what you always say and then it happens again."

"It was a super last-minute decision."

"Whatever." you sigh.

"just let me in," she insists. "you know you're gonna eventually so,"

"go away."

"I got you something," tempting... and it works. With a roll of your eyes, you slowly open the door and step aside. A triumphant smile graces her lips as she saunters past. A single red rose in hand. You give her an almost bored look.

"cute,"

"I know," she hands it over. "stop pretending you're mad at me."

"I'm not pretending," you huff, twisting the stem between your fingers. Same old sue. She takes a tentative step closer. Testing your boundaries before a gentle finger lifts your head to meet her gaze.

"look at me and tell me you're not gonna forgive me then," such wide eyes paired with a hint of a pout. You want to slap her but she's right. You always forgive and forget. Caught in some stupid little back and forth. A very heavy sigh. You push her hand away.

"Whatever." mumbled as you made your way further into the apartment. Sue trails behind.

"We can do it another time- promise."

"It's fine. I ended up just going with Elisabeth."

"whose Elisabeth?" the girl asks, going straight for your fridge.

Your brows furrow. "what do you mean whose Elisabeth?"

"We don't know an Elisabeth?" she clarifies, unscrewing the top to a bottle of water. You stare at her for a moment, wondering if she's gone insane. Was she ever that normal to begin with?"

"Elisabeth sparkle? She literally looks after your apartment when you're away." she just stares back like you're the crazy one. They obviously know each other. You had a whole conversation with Elisabeth about her so why was Sue being difficult? "why are you confused?"

"Why did you go with her?" she asks, wondering back over to you. It kinda catches you off guard. At least she was no longer pretending.

"she was around and you weren't."

"so? You don't even know her." the girl pushes herself up and onto the counter next to you.

You shrug. "it was nice. We just talked for hours which is something we like never do so."

"what do you mean? We talk all the time." she brings the water back up to her lips and for a millisecond it gives you pause. Like a weird moment of deja vu.

"no we don't," you shake your head. "you hardly wanna know me outside of bed."

"you're exaggerating," and she's right. Sort of anyway. "I'm gonna make it up to you."

"When? right now?"

"I can't right now," she jumps down. "I have a shoot I need to get to, I'm already running late but I'll think of something," tapping the bottle against your shoulder, she heads for the door. "thanks for the water."

That moment never came. You kinda expected that. Neither a text nor conversation involved hanging out just the two of you. But one did come from Elisabeth during Sue's week back home inviting you for dinner to say thank you. You accept. You have no plans so why not? But now you're sat in her apartment and it's weird. It's weird hanging out here without her. Feels almost like a different place as you're sat on the couch drinking red wine next to Elisabeth. You don't normally drink wine. She had made some kind of pasta dish. It was good.

"so how is she doing?"

"you don't know?" the two of them have such a confusing dynamic. Neither will explain how they know each other. They don't seem to talk. So weird.

"We don't really get to talk," Elisabeth explains.

"I don't really know either," you explain. Half a shrug. "we barely hung out last week. She said we'd do something but guess not."

Elisabeth gives a soft hum. "interesting."

"What?"

"it doesn't matter," she replies. "I don't wanna be rude,"

"Please do," you insisted, taking a sip of wine. You'd love to gossip with the Elisabeth sparkle. Up until now, she's been very conservative with her words. Careful about what she says. Don't make any jokes.

"I just think she sounds kinda... selfish."

"I guess," selfish was one of many words that could be used to describe sue. Many more positives. Some a little less. "you get used to her blowing you off."

"Why do you put up with it?" it's hard to explain to someone who doesn't really know Sue. It's hard to explain to yourself. Sue was special. Like nobody, you had ever met before or may possibly ever meet again. Not to mention beautiful, talented and an absolute star in the making.

"because... I like her," you respond eventually. The simplest of reasons but perhaps the most important. You liked her. a lot. "I don't know. She's... mesmerising. So fun and free and interesting and I think she likes me too, in her own way."

There's a pause as she swirls the red liquid around her glass. You wonder if you've made it awkward by defending Sue. It hadn't been your intention. She drains the glass. "you deserve better." Elisabeth comments, raising to her feet.

"you offering?" you tease, following her with your eyes as she heads back towards the kitchen. There is a long moment of silence before she returns with the wine bottle in hand.

"That's not what I meant." uttered as she returned to the couch. She's a little closer now. Knee brushing against yours.

A huff of a laugh. "I know, I know," you down the rest of your wine as she pours herself a new glass. "worth a shot though, right?" you hold out your glass for her to refill.

"Better not let Sue hear you speaking like that," she replies, pouring the red liquid slowly. You watch it build within the confines of the glass.

"she wouldn't care," you shrug. "that's how the whole friends with-benefits thing kinda works. Or like situationship. or whatever- I don't know."

"before you didn't have a label. Now you have too many." Elisabeth jokes, leaving the almost empty wine bottle on the table.

"It's more that we don't have one so I'm never sure what to call it," you reply. "it's just not exclusive."

"so you see other people?" she asks. "isn't that like a new thing kids are into these days? polyamory."

An almost uncharacteristically sweet giggle. Elisabeth was older but you wouldn't exactly call yourself a kid. It was funny how she referred to anything different as being for 'kids' "You're cute," you comment. "pretty sure that's been around way longer than I have- or even you have been." who knows. "but no, we're not polyamorous. We're just not exclusive either."

"but you're dating?"

"yes and no." you take a sip of wine as you try to figure it out in your own head. It never seemed confusing until you were trying to explain it right now. "we hang out. I've kissed other people and it's fine. She's fucked other people and it's fine. Maybe we'll get to a point where that stops."

She looks at you for a long hard minute. It feels... intense. Like she was searching for something within you. Trying to figure things out. You offer a gentle smile. Glancing at the hand that now brushes against your arm. "you deserve someone who treats you like you're the most important person in the world." and you don't know what to say. You just stare into pretty eyes and she takes the queue because two hands now grace your cheeks keeping you from looking away. You laugh a little awkwardly not expecting to be so close. She'd clearly had a little too much red win.

"you're a little drunk huh," you comment, a smile that settles but you try to avoid her gaze. But it's like she doesn't even hear what you said

"maybe that's not sue." bold. clearly fuelled by her tipsy state. You've never been this close before. It was intense. A flowery scent mixed with the deep fruity accent of wine.

"Who else could it be?" she was making it sound so simple but it didn't take into account your feelings. How much you like Sue. the fun you had together. Sure, she can be flakey but she's also taking care of her sick mother. It's not like she was blowing you off to go party or something. And then her lips are on yours. Warm and a little rough. You freeze entirely. It's a brief encounter as she pulls back.

"sorry- I shouldn't have-"

"no no, it's...," You take a quick sip of wine before placing it on the table. It was an unexpected kiss... but not entirely unwelcome. "fine," hummed softly. Reaching for her, you pull her back into the kiss. It's messy. It's sloppy. And it's fueled by alcohol.

Side by side, you walk down the bustling street in the midday sun. Sue is telling you about the issue she had with a photographer this morning. You're only half paying attention. You can't stop thinking about Elisabeth. Kissing her had never been part of the plan. It had just been a mistake in the moment. Sue just wasn't giving you attention and Elisabeth was. She wanted to get to know you. It was a moment of weakness. You had ended up rushing out of there pretty quickly. You just couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

"I need to tell you something," blurted out.

"okay?"

"I... kissed someone else."

"so?" she shrugged. "I don't care."

"yeah but... but this is different," you explain. Nerves settle in your stomach. She definitely wasn't about to take this well

"what do you mean?"

"it was... Elisabeth," name just a whisper as it leaves your lips. Sue slows to a stop. A man curses her out as he barely avoids crashing into her. You stop a few paces ahead. Watching as a flurry of emotions danced across her face.

"Elisabeth," she repeats. "as in Elisabeth sparkle?"

"mhmm,"

"you can't be serious," her brow furrows. "fucking Elisabeth sparkle."

"I'm sorry it just kinda happened, okay?" you explain.

"you fucked Elisabeth sparkle," she marches closer and for a minute you expect her to hit you or something but she doesn't. She just closes the distance. A creased brow settled.

"what? No. It was just a kiss," you insist, hands held up in surrender. "nothing else and I put a stop to it pretty quickly."

"Why would you fuck her?"

"I didn't," you fire back. "but it's not like I haven't seen you literally go upstairs with guys so,"

"That's different," she storms past you, continuing down the street. You quickly follow after her.

"so it's okay for you but not for me?"

"so you did sleep with her,"

"no," she's walking so quickly, it's a struggle to keep up.

"Christ she's old enough to be your mom,"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"so you like her more than me?" she growls back, sharply turning around to you.

"I never said that,"

"what do you even see in her?" and she's off again. Marching down the street like she had a reason to be so angry. You get that they don't get along but that has nothing to do with you. "she's like old and weird and boring,"

"you don't have to be mean," you huff. Following her once more. At least she was walking slower this time. "why does she look after your apartment if you hate her so much?"

"I don't... hate her," Sue insists. "it's- it's complicated."

"How?"

"it doesn't matter how," there's a bite to her tone. She is pissed. " what do you even see in her?"

"She's just... I don't know. She's nice."

"nice? You're leaving me because she's nice."

"Why are you- I literally never said I was leaving you?" you argue. "she's nice. We actually talk to each other."

"we're talking right now." seems your normal cafe is out of the question because she turns into some juice bar. It's small and mostly empty.

"you know what I mean. She listens and everything isn't about getting to the bedroom as quickly as possible."

"so what you're saying is you don't wanna sleep with me? Okay. Got it." she marches towards the counter.

"no, see, this is exactly what I mean. Will you just listen to me for once?" you wait as the girl behind the counter greets you both with a cheerful hello. Sue orders something from the menu board. You're not in the mood for anything anymore so you go and sit down at one of two small tables. Watching as she messes with her phone as the girl makes the drink. Some green-looking thing that Sue collects with a smile before reluctantly joining you. It's silent for a moment but you figure if this is gonna be resolved, you have to be the one to do it. "I like you, Sue. I think I like you more than I have ever liked anyone but all we ever do is party and sleep together. Which is fun but there's nothing else and every time I try to have a moment you blow me off. I'm not saying we have to be exclusive if that's not what you want but what do you want?"

"you really wanna do this right now?" she huffs. She hasn't looked at you since sitting down. Just kept all her attention on her phone as she slurped the juice through a straw.

"I just... this is all getting confusing for me."

"you're the one who kissed someone else. Someone so great apparently." so sarcastic. so mean.

"you two are so alike."

"oh my god," she abruptly looks up, slamming her juice on the table. "don't ever say that to me."

"you are though," you reach for her hand but she pulls away. "you even kinda look like her."

"I don't look anything like that old hag," she bites back.

"stop it,"

"Sorry. forgot you're in love with her now." you sigh softly. Each point seemed to go entirely over her head. Whether that was unintentional or deliberate, you couldn't be sure.

"sue. stop it."

"stop what? Why did you have to tell me?"

"because I felt bad,"

"I don't care," she snaps, catching you off guard. Voice so loud in such a small space, that even the girl behind the counter looks over. You offer a polite smile. "I didn't need to know you're making out with old people in my apartment or how nice she is and how you have deep meaningful conversations or whatever the fuck you wanna say about her."

"I'm sorry, okay,"

"forget it," she jumps down from her seat, grabbing her juice. "I've gotta go anyway."

"Sue- please."

"I'll see you later."

400 notes · View notes

littlyamadeus · 6 months ago

Text

Good Luck, Babe

Chapter 3: A Fool | 4.2k

You know what they say, when someone leaves, someone else will come.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: ANGST, r trying to win Natasha back and getting her attention, Natty being cold, heartless and mean (but still secretly possessive), cutie Aliah unintentionally trying to make Natasha jealous (daughter did the assignment🤙)

Author's Note: I wrote the lines of Aliah based on how toddlers would speak. Also, I have been meaning to ask what you all want to see next for this series after reading this chapter. Thank you in advance.

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

You found yourself in a difficult situation, having to explain to your daughter that a significant change was about to take place. The truth was that the woman she had met at the store was her mama, and that the two of you were going to get married, well, she kind of blackmailed you into it but of course you're not going to tell your daughter that.

All she cared about was the beautiful dress that was sent to your apartment, as well as your wedding dress, which you're sure Natasha had chosen. She was so focused on the thought of wearing the dress that she didn't understand the implications of the situation or the fact that this wedding was a desperate attempt for you to keep her with you.

All she cared about was the chance to wear a beautiful dress to be a part of a special day with her mama and mommy.

"I do," Natasha spoke with her velvety voice. She was so calm compared to you.

"Do you take Natasha as your lawfully wedded wife?" The solemnizing officer turned to ask you.

Your world literally stopped. This is it, it's happening and there is no turning back. Your heart raced and your palms grew clammy as you hesitated to say the words. You froze, feeling a sense of panic wash over you as you realized the enormity of what would happen if you finally it. Natasha could feel your trembling hands and see the fear in your eyes, but then you looked over at your daughter, her face was filled with so much joy, excitement and innocence. In your entire life, you had never seen Aliah this happy—you couldn't take this away from her, so in that moment, all your doubts and fears faded away.

You took a sharp breath, closing your glossy eyes as you utter the words…

"I do."

⧗

Your daughter, Aliah, had immediately clicked with both her mama and her auntie Yelena. She was particularly excited and playful around Yelena, who was a person who matched her energy. As you all made your way to Natasha's place, where she told you, you would now be living together, Aliah was buzzing with excitement, eagerly asking questions about what your new life would be like.

She was sitting on Natasha's lap in the back seat, while you sat beside them, watching as she looked out the window with excitement. Suddenly, she turned to Natasha and shouted, "I wan' a wower coaster in house, mama!"

"That's quite a request, kiddo." Yelena, who was driving, chuckled from the front seat.

"I could do that for my princess." Natasha assured with a wink.

And there you are sitting in silence—disassociating. Your mind was elsewhere as you stare at your wedding ring, replaying the events of the ceremony and the circumstances that had led to this moment. What if you didn't go to the groceries that night? Or what if you didn't ask your daughter to get the tub of your favorite yogurt? What if you came early that day so you could've gone to the market early as well? Then Aliah won't meet her mama, you wouldn't have to beg Natasha in court and look like the one desperate for you to marry her, but at the same time you wouldn't see Aliah this happy which you hadn't seen her since the day she was born.

The sound of Natasha's soft voice as she spoke to Aliah and the hum of the car's engine all faded into the background as you became lost in your own thoughts. You were physically present, but your mind was elsewhere entirely.

Your mind couldn't help but dwell on the memories of your past affair with Natasha, the woman who was now your wife. The irony wasn't lost on you as you sat beside them, listening as they laughed together.

Your daughter and your wife.

It was difficult to reconcile the idea that you were now married to her when just a few years ago back in college, you had always been averse to the idea. She had always wanted more from the relationship affair, she used to have plans for the both of you but you refused and always avoided it when she brought it up.

Gods, they both looked like each other.

"Okay, we're here." Yelena said as she pulled up the car. Your disassociation was cut through as you looked around—the imposing figure of the palatial mansion loomed in front of you, the soothing sound of the fountain in the entrance hall cutting through the fog in your mind.

In college, you had known about Natasha's family's generational wealth. Whenever you teased her about it, she would brush it off, saying her parents were the rich ones, not her. And for some reason, she never seemed comfortable talking about her parents, her father in particular. It was always a conversation that she tried to avoid.

Your daughter raced past Natasha, her little legs scurrying as she excitedly explored the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Aliah! Don't run!" You reminded your daughter, finally, there are words getting out of your mouth.

Once you get inside, there is already some extravagant meal prepared for you. And then after, Natasha took you and your daughter on a tour of the expansive home.

She knelt down to speak with your daughter. "This is going to be your room," she said warmly, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Do you like it?"

"This is mine, m-mama?" She whispered. Your daughter's eyes widened as she looked around the room, taking in the new surroundings. She walked over to the bed, her small hands reaching out to touch the soft blankets.

Natasha stood, watching the amusement of her daughter, "All yours, princess."

Your daughter turned to look at you as if waiting she's for your approval, when you finally nodded she let out a loud shout, her voice echoing through the room. "Mommy! Mommy! I have my own room!" she exclaimed, her face lit up with a huge smile. "Thank you, thank you, thank you Mama!"

A wide grin spread across her face as she plopped herself onto the bed, burying her face into the pillows.

"A' we all gon' sleep here?!" She turned to look at you again, but this time her eyes landed between you and Natasha, her excitement palpable but yours died down with her question.

Natasha walked towards your daughter. "No, baby, we'll be in our separate rooms," she spoke oh-so-gently. "But I suppose we can...sometimes? You know?"

Well, you really thought you would share the same bedroom as Natasha, guess you're not.

Your daughter is still too young to fully comprehend that and everything at all, she looked up with innocent eyes at her mama and to you who hasn't stepped inside her room just yet. But she eagerly nodded and turned to sprint around her new room.

"You have your room just across, Aliah." Natasha told you nonchalantly as she walked towards you. You were tempted to ask where hers is, but you held your tongue. Instead, you replied, "I think I'll stay with Liah for a few more nights, at least until she's adjusted. We share the same bed back in my apartment; this is her first time having her own room."

You couldn't help but feel impressed with yourself for maintaining a calm tone with her. It was a far cry from your unexpected reunion a week ago in the courtroom, where you had literally begged her on your knees for her not to take Aliah. Even when she kind of blackmailed you into marriage to keep your daughter with you which you had agreed with no hesitation. This was the first time in a long time that you had spoken to Natasha without letting your emotions take control.

But now, you couldn't help but hope that this marriage would mark a new beginning for you and Natasha. A chance to leave the past behind and start anew. Deep down, you knew it wouldn't be easy to make amends, but you were determined to do whatever it takes to make things right between the two of you.

Because you still love her. After all these years, it's still her.

⧗

Natasha informed you that she had enrolled Aliah in an international school and classes would start in a week to allow for adjustment. With your interactions limited to discussions about Aliah, you felt a growing desire to initiate conversations with her.

"Hey, Nat. I prepared breakfast." You greeted Natasha with a warm smile. It had been a week since you had moved into her home together, and it had been a week since the two of you had married. However, you had rarely seen Natasha during breakfast as she was always busy with work. Today, you woke up early and prepared breakfast for her, along with a packed lunch to take with her to her work. You packed her some teriyaki chicken, onigiri and some grapes. It was the go-to lunch you two always have in college.

You even pampered yourself, putting some make-up on early in the morning, so you'd look…beautiful? No, definitely not, presentable is the right word to put it…or is it not? You, yourself don't even know what you're trying to look like. You just want to look like the wife who prepares food for her partner, that's it, nothing more. You're definitely not trying to attract her.

Natasha's reaction to your offering was unexpected. She regarded you with a lingering stare from head to toes, but instead of accepting your gesture or at least noticing your…pampered self that's just for her? She simply walked away. She didn't say a word, leaving you standing there like a sales lady offering some products to a customer only to be ignored by them.

You tried to rationalize Natasha's behavior in your mind, not realizing the tears that started to fall down your cheeks. You told yourself that maybe she was tired from her demanding job which you have no idea what is, what you only know is she is now an owner of a big transportation company.

You were painfully aware that Natasha hadn't forgiven you yet, and you knew it was going to be a long and challenging journey to earn her forgiveness.

As for you daughter, there is not a single day went by without Natasha having a playdate with Aliah and sometimes you couldn't help but feel jealousy, unsure of who to be more envious of—Natasha or your own child. It was funny and heartwarming to watch the two of them spend time together. You couldn't help but notice how Aliah had picked up on some of Natasha's mannerisms, like the way she would pull her hair up just like her mother, or how Aliah had mimicked the little huff that Natasha does when she's upset. You also had noticed how Natasha and your daughter moved in sync, their movements mirroring each other's as if they were connected on a deeper level. Whether it was the way they walked, the way they gestured, or even the way they carried themselves, there was an uncanny similarity between the two of them.

"Teriyaki!" Your daughter shouted as she charged towards the table, you immediately wiped your tears carefully not to ruin your make-up and of course for your daughter not to see.

"You wook beautifuw, mommy." Aliah hugged your waist and you leaned to kiss her forehead.

"It's make-up baby." You giggled lightly as you put her down her chair. She probably noticed your make-up on.

"You stiw beautifuw. But I wike it more when you don' have 'em because a wot of guys wooks at you. Wike the man in the mawket yestewday." Your daughter muttered as she recalled the moment where a guy boldly went out and offered to help you reach a tray of eggs that is literally on your level to reach. At first, you thought the guy was just being kind but when you kind of flexed your wedding ring as you reached some seasonings with your left hand, you swear, the man almost bolted out of the market.

"So you're saying people just look at me when I have make-up on, young girl?" You asked playfully, trying to sound hurt and offended.

"No! Mommy is beautifuw even without cowors in her face!"

Natasha had been within earshot and overheard the exchange between you and Aliah. She had intended to give her daughter a quick kiss goodbye, but Aliah had already darted towards you and the teriyaki you originally prepared for her but she painfully ignored.

After she's done lingering like a creep staring at you, she finally gets going and shuffles her car key. As she walks towards the front door, Rick is there, the butler of her manor.

"Make sure she never has to go to the market again, especially alone."

⧗

Every single day, you would wake up early and put in the effort to prepare breakfast and pack a lunch for Natasha. But despite your earnest efforts, she would either not show up for breakfast or stealthily leave the house without a word, leaving you clueless and baffled. When you asked the housekeeper where she was, they would simply inform you that she had already left for work. It was a constant, frustrating cycle that left you feeling more and more confused and neglected each day—it was an endless loop. But no matter how frustrated and disheartened you felt, you still insisted on doing something for Natasha every day. It was as if a part of you held onto the hope that eventually, she would acknowledge, appreciate your efforts and forgive you. Every gesture, every attempt to connect with her, felt like a desperate plea to earn her attention and love.

Despite the continuous rejection from Natasha, you decided to take extra care of your appearance. You would make sure your hair was perfect, your makeup was flawless but simple. You told yourself that it was for your own self-confidence and not an attempt to grab her attention. You definitely didn't want her to notice you more, definitely not…

Do you get frustrated having to meet your own needs every night? Definitely not.

Natasha didn't outwardly soften her heart towards you, but she wanted to see how far you were willing to go, how much effort you were willing to exert to win back her favor. Of course, she secretly took notice of every gesture you did, every breakfast and packed lunch that she had painfully ignored just to look heartless and cold, and every time you put in extra effort to put into your appearance made it not easy for her. She definitely did not jerk herself off first thing in the morning at work after seeing you with just a huge shirt and dolphin shorts that did nothing to cover your legs. She felt like you were testing her…teasing her but she knew you were just trying to earn her forgiveness—that you would be on your feet to earn it.

She found a twisted sense of satisfaction in witnessing you trying to hide your disappointment and how your eyes become teary everytime she ignores you. Natasha was able to keep you on edge, constantly striving to earn an ounce of attention. This subtle form of control kept you unbalanced and unsure of where you stood with her, which only served to make you try even harder to win her back.

You were so amenable, submissive, and desperate. God, she wants to break you.

You had carefully planned a dinner for the three of you, and you decided to reach out to Natasha about it as soon as you woke up. You framed it as if it was your daughter's idea, even though it was really your own idea. Fortunately, Natasha agreed to it without much fuss, as she would do anything for her daughter. After the small talk she immediately excused herself once again ignoring the packed lunch you awkwardly handed her.

To your surprise, during the dinner Yelena was present, a factor you hadn't initially factored in, but you ultimately decided not to pay it much mind since Aliah was really happy to see her auntie again. The three of you sat down to eat together for the first time in many weeks.

During dinner, Yelena took it upon herself to strike up a conversation. "Do you still work, Y/N?" she inquired.

"Oh yeah, I just took some work break…before the wedding." You nodded, trying not to sound so awkward. You actually took a break since you were summoned to court about the custody of your daughter. The shit had you stopping everything you're supposed to do.

Yelena turned her attention towards Aliah. "And you huh?" she scrunched her face on your daughter who cannot stop giggling whenever she sees Yelena, "Is your new school okay?"

"Yeah! I got new friends, tata!" She clapped her hands together, a broad smile on her face. You couldn't help but giggle faintly at her reply reaching over and gently ruffling her hair. "But mama I wan' you to come with mommy to pick me up next time because someone asked for mommy's phone."

"Oh that's…that's not. That's the school's—"

"Shit!" Natasha cursed under her breath when her wine glass suddenly hit the ground.

"I got it," you quickly spoke, your voice filled with eagerness to please…her.

"Natasha! What are you doing?!" Yelena whispered to her sister. Well, let's just say that she wanted to test your desperation and she enjoyed the thrill of having you so consumed by her, trying so hard to gain her approval. And she hated hearing that you were getting attention from others.

She watched you as you scrambled to stand up and circle your way to the table, you knelt down to her side.

Fuck, she cannot definitely have these thoughts during dinner with her daughter right in front of her.

As you continued to clean up the mess on the floor, Yelena spoke up, eyeing her sister intently as if she's trying to scold her using just her eyes. "Y/N, the housekeeper can do that," she said gently. "You might hurt yourself."

There was a brief moment of silence in the room after Yelena spoke up. Natasha simply said, "Yeah." Then, without waiting for a response, she rose from her seat and avoided your kneeling form on the floor and walked towards your daughter, she kissed her good night, and announced that she needs to retire early because she has an important meeting tomorrow.

You watched her disappear as you're still crouched down on the floor, the blood from your ring finger threatening to fall as well as the tears in your eyes.

⧗

You made sure to talk to her before she left for work so you woke up early and reheated the dinner you had last night. Just as she's about to head out the front door, you call out to her immediately. She was rushing as if she already knew you were waiting for her. Natasha rolled her eyes before turning around, her expression guarded as she looked back at you.

As always, she noticed you were wearing a little make-up on and a packed lunch in both of your hands.

"G-good morning, Nat." Of course, you're stuttering, this is the 8th time you will talk to her and once again, about your daughter. Before she could even get bored of you, which you noticed she was, you immediately flashed her a smile, "I-uh Aliah has a performance later and she wanted you to be there. I wasn't able to tell you last night b-because you left early. Also, I…I uh reheated dinner last night so you'll have lunch at work."

"Okay, time?" She asked flatly, noticing how you tried to hide your ring finger that is wrapped with a small patch of gauze.

"Uhm, 4 p.m." You nodded, awkwardly clutching the packed lunch on your right hand while you hid your left on your back.

She takes it with a heavy, almost reluctant sigh, her fingers barely brushing against yours. "You know you don't have to do all this right? Someone gets paid to do this."

"I just wanna do something nice," you smiled awkwardly at her. It's not too late for that right?

God, she hated that smile. She rolls her eyes skyward, the gesture hidden from your view as she quickly turns away. Not bothering to reply.

"Bye, take care, Natty."

Natasha's shoulders tense briefly, upon hearing the nickname. It was the one you coined during college and she hasn't heard it not until now. The temptation to whirl around and scream that you have lost the right to call her that burns like fire in her chest. She envisions the shock, the pain, the breaking in your eyes at her words and she would love every bit of it.

But she bit back as she continued her way to the door handing the lunch she took from you to one of the housekeepers.

"Throw that away."

⧗

The minutes tick by slowly as you wait for Natasha. You called her phone number, it was actually her work phone number that she gave you and strictly told you to only call or text if it's about Aliah. Your daughter who was backstage keeps on peeking through the curtains, looking at you with hopeful eyes, checking if her mama is already with her mommy. You can only give her a thumbs up and a big smile whenever you see her.

But the performance is wrapping up, still no sign of Natasha.

As soon as the final curtain falls, you rush to where Aliah is sitting, a bouquet of her favorite flowers in your hand.

"Hi baby, you did great!" you beamed but you found her sitting with her head down, her usual bright eyes dimmed. Aliah wraps her arms around you tightly as soon as you pull her into your embrace, burying her face in your chest.

"Are you sad because mama wasn't here?" Your daughter nodded, you are too, you were sad and disappointed. But you covered up for your wife. "Mama called me and she was busy because she said she is preparing a surprise for you."

Aliah pulls back slightly, her eyes wide with curiosity. "A suwpwise?" she repeats. You force a smile, you don't like lying to your daughter and this makes your heart heavy with disappointment but determined to shield your daughter from the truth that her mama didn't show up even though she said yes to it. "Yes, sweetheart. Mama's been really busy preparing something special just for you." You pinched her cheeks that made her finally smile and giggle, "Don't tell mama I told you okay?" You whispered to her, your point finger resting on your lips while your daughter mimicked the act nodding eagerly.

You carefully tuck Aliah into bed, making sure she's fast asleep before Natasha even has a chance to get home. You know your daughter will be bombarding her with questions if you two both waited, and you're not sure Natasha has an answer ready for her. Besides, Natasha has no idea about the surprise you told your daughter she prepared for her, unless she read the text messages you flooded her with.

So you waited alone.

Natasha was just steps away but you immediately catch a whiff of something other than her usual perfume you use to smell every morning when you wait for her—the distinct scent of alcohol. She's been out drinking instead of showing up to your daughter's performance? You sigh internally, knowing this is going to be a long night. But still, you gave her a benefit of the doubt.

"Hey," you say quietly.

She tries to avoid you by heading towards her office, but you follow closely behind her.

"Natty, I cooked dinner for you. If you're hungry, they're downstairs or I can bring them to you."

"I'm not hungry," she husked, as she entered her office she left the door slightly open. You hesitate for a moment before following her inside, closing the door behind you.

As you were inside you immediately noticed Natasha leaning against her desk, trying to steady herself. You reach out to support her, but Natasha suddenly straightens up, pushing your hand away with a harsh grunt. "Don't fucking touch me," she snarls. She stumbles slightly, almost falling, before managing to catch herself on the chair.

"I-I'm sorry…" came as your second nature of response and you don't even know if she heard it.

"Can you fucking…" Natasha closed her eyes as if to calm herself, then opened again. She looked at you with half-lidded eyes. "Just stop doing all this, stop playing house. Stop cooking stupid breakfast, lunch or dinner for me…just, just fucking stop. Stop playing like a caring wife 'cause you're not."

But you do. You care. You love her—you still do.

But you have been a fool to think that she asked you to marry her for the two of you to start over with your daughter. This marriage is just for Aliah and now it's clear to you.

You nodded slowly, biting your inner lip to suppress the tears that were threatening to fall. "I uh…I told Aliah that you were preparing a surprise for her since you didn't show up to her performance earlier. Just make sure you have it prepared first thing in the morning tomorrow. Good night, Natasha."

#Babe wake up new chapter of Good Kuck babe just dropped

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