#natasha romanoff marvel

[wandasfifthwife]

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natasha romanoff x fem!reader

tw: SMUT MDNI, top!natasha, bottom!reader, dom/sub elements(dom!n & sub!r), restraint kink (n in handcuffs), slight age gap (4 years), very slight tiny bit of plot (beginning summary), established relationship (married), natasha is packing, strap is called her “dick,” strap in v (r receiving), lotus position, marking kink, overstim if you squint, kitchen floor sex, not proofread!

a/n: 1.3k words of smut!!

It’s not fair.

Natasha had come home one night, greeting you with a kiss. You had reached for her shirt and tilted your head to kiss her again. It wasn’t long before she had you pressed into the counter, careful of the stove beside you. That’s when she wasn’t playing fair. Mumbling against your lips about how she wants to fuck you before the retched ringtone interrupted her.

She’s since been busy with work calling her in what felt like every few hours. It’s because of the latest mission concerns her, almost infecting her like an addition with how often she’s gone.

You both have careers, but comparatively, hers is more demanding, forcing her to be flexible. It also forces her to give up time with you, sometimes having to leave during her time with you; Time she said that’ll be left alone, sacred for the two of you only to share. She had you laid on your back, cold fingers sliding under your shirt. In that moment you really believed you wouldn’t get interrupted. Judging by how she was taking her time, she did too.

“Need you, please—I need you, please.”

She shushes you, raking her nails down your waist, “take your pants off for me.”

You’ve never been quicker, fingers untying the string in a hurry to push them down your legs. She surged forward, lips finding yours and hands tugging your hips closer to hers.

A whine tumbled from you, grinding down onto her thigh.

“Oh, feels so—“ you stop halfway, feeling your heart drop into your stomach at the sound that had filled the air. She didn’t seem to care, rubbing your cunt down onto her clothed thigh.

“I have to answer my phone,” she whispers, pushing off you.

“What?”

She slides to the edge of the bed, reaching to get ahold of her phone from her back pocket. Already the sheets felt colder, missing her warmth. You just missed her, entirely too much. Your fingers are boring and underwhelming after using them for the past week.

When you had gotten married, ceremony held four years ago, you had spent more time together. It’s only been this year that she’s been away more than she’s been home. Even in the years before—during the get to know you and dating stage—she was around then. You understood why, but also why was she giving her attention to her job and not you?

“Sorry,” she leans back on one hand to place a kiss on your shoulder, “I’ll be back, this shouldn’t take long.”

Her statement turned out to be false, but it was nice to be lulled into a false sense of hope. Neither are actually nice, but you‘re thankful she came home safely and before two AM. The kitchen was warm, remnants of what you had just finished baking remaining.

“What’s all this for?”

“Work event, required to bring a dish in.”

She hums, “how many are you making?”

“This is all,” you gesture, “I finished like twenty minutes ago, I think.”

“Well it smells nice, I’m sure they’ll love it.”

You thank her, struggling to fight off the laugh as you wait for her to turn around. She was taken aback when you snatch her wrists, the click sound of them latching shocking her. You’re laughing despite the look she was giving you, despite the way she kept backing up when you got closer.

“No, don’t— why?”

You’re laughing, finally able to lean your head onto her shoulder, “so you can’t answer this.”

She looks pissed when you set her phone on a platform she can’t reach for; the surface too high in comparison from where her arms were kept. Hugging her now felt weird, a phantom sensation forming to compensate for the lack of hands wrapping around you.

“It’s been long enough.”

“It’s only been a minute, let me have my fun.”

She rolls her eyes but it’s all for show. Her smile growing at the sound of your amusement.

“I haven’t heard much from you.”

“I’ve been meaning to, just haven’t had the time.”

A pout forms on your face, “I know and it’s sad, I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you too, not these antics.”

You laugh again, cupping her face to pull her into a kiss. Her lips are chapped from the cold, the sensation of it feeling all too similar to home. The look in her eyes after she bit at your bottom lip was enough, the two of you ending up on the kitchen floor.

Her back was against the cabinet door, shirt slowly ridden up from when she slid down onto the ground with you in tow. Your legs were straddled over hers, chest bare and pressed into hers. Your head was tilted back, a shaky gasp escaping you when she kissed that spot on your neck.

“Grind on me,” she says gently, adjusting her hips forward. With your hands on her shoulders, you adjust your hips so they hover over hers, moaning when you feel her press onto your clit.

“Oh! You’re—?”

She doesn’t say anything but her upturned grin gives her away. You’re circling your hips with a whimper, begging her. You were soaked, every press of her against you pushed you further towards your high already. The second she gives the green light, you’re unbuttoning her pants.

“Spread your legs more,” she emphasizes her words by jerking one knee up to hit the underside of your thigh. The ground hurts your knees and you’re sure bruises are forming, but you’re too worked up to care.

“Can I? Please—I need you.”

She nods, eyes trained on your face and how it contorts in pleasure once you’ve begun to sink down onto her length. You struggle to take the entirety of her dick, two inches laying untouched.

“I cant—ah!—I can’t.”

“Shh you can—just relax, you’re too tight.”

She was right. Once you’ve focused on her, your walls greedily took every inch in. Your mind was a mess, fuzzy and overstimulated pushing you to only think about her. She’s quiet, nosing at your neck and breathing heavily at how her strap presses against her clit with each downwards thrust of your hips.

Nails press into the back of her neck from how tight you’re holding onto her. The wet sounds of where the two of you collided was entirely too much, and you wanted more. The sound decidedly much better than her phone ringtone that you’ve grown to recognize after the first note.

“Fuck,” you curse breathily, bottoming out to grind her length, feeling her brush against your walls. With the jerk of her hips, it brings her to press against the spot that makes you feel like you’re going to black out. Your finger swirling your clit moves faster, pressure building in your stomach.

She’s leaned her head against the cabinet, attention shifting between your face, tits, and where she’s completely shoved inside you. It’s a mess between her thighs, mind melted with each movement and sound you make.

When your sounds pitch higher, less control over them and sounding raw, she knows you’re close. You’re squirming on her lap, pace sloppy and messy as you reach your climax. It’s beautiful watching your lips drop open in a silent scream, body shaking on top of hers. You kiss her, moaning into her mouth.

“Love you,” you murmur, body relaxing into her.

“Love you more.”

The both of your heavy breathing fills the air as you reach for the key to unlock the cuffs. They fall to the ground with a solid clang. Her hands slide under your thighs, pushing you close and lifting you. You’re on another dimension, thankful she’s in a clearer state than you to get you two off the ground.

“Where’d you get the handcuffs?”

“Don’t remember,” you say into her shirt, excitement growing between your legs when you realize she’s taking you to the bedroom. The door shuts behind you, leaving her ringing phone in the kitchen.

[spiderfunkz]

✧.* FLOUR N COOKIES.

— summary : when baking cookies with natasha turns into a flour fight.

— word count : 0,6k

— warnings : fluff, fem!reader, established relationship, nat & reader live together, flour fights, pet names, nat being a tease.

a/n : it's october so the autumn-y fics r here !! also i am a firm believer that nat struggles to do basic cooking.

baking was something you've always loved to do, since ever. you loved the process of buying the ingredients, picking the flavours, toppings, decorations, everything.

you especially loved baking for other people. it's your way of showing that you love and care for them, a love language sort of.

and it's always been a tradition for you to bake fall cookies for your friends. today, you were baking them for clint.

it was the perfect time to bake. the weather was perfect, it was foggy but not too foggy since you could still see the reflection of sunlight. the music was playing in the background, and nothing could possibly ruin this you thought.

tying your apron, natasha walks in to help.

"you look good in that apron." she smirks.

you ignore the comment as you grab the eggs from the fridge. "stay focused, we need to finish these cookies."

"well, i'm more or so thinking that you should wear that apron more often." she teases. "these cookies are for clint. realistically, you should be taking the lead." you reply.

"i've never baked before."

"ever? in your entire life? not even once?"

"i'm pretty sure that's what the word never means." — "do you at least know how to crack open an egg?"

you were met with silence. is she serious?

"just crack these eggs to that bowl, please." you point. "like this?" she asks.

you stare at her in disbelief. she seems confused, possibly wondering what she did wrong.

"you know, maybe, without, the eggshells."

she looks down at the bowl, "i think we should leave it. crunchy cookies, you know? it adds more protein, so it's healthy." she awkwardly smiles.

"whatever, i'll just pick the eggshells out." you carefully grab the slippery shells.

"soooo.. what's next?" she wipes the egg residue on her pants. "i'll whisk the wet ingredients, you can help me by grabbing the flour and baking soda."

natasha nods, as she grabs the ingredients you asked for from the cabinets above. "you know i've always wanted to do this with someone." she says, toying with the bag of flour.

"yeah well, this feels more like a me effort instead of a team effort." you state. "there's no me in team." natasha replies.

"yes there is. there's an 'e' and an 'm'." you stated.

"you're so smart, detka. keep blabbering. see what happens."

was that a threat? you look up from the bowl to see her grab a handful of flour. "put that down. don't get closer." you commanded.

"or what?" — "or the cookies won't get done, and clint will have over-floured cookies."

natasha shuffles forward.

"nat. i swear. i just cleaned the floor this morning."

"i'm not even moving."

"i can see you shuffling towards me."

"i'm standing very still. actually, here, catch!" she throws the flour to you. your clean apron was now covered in flour.

"oh you are so gonna regret that, natasha."

you swiftly grab a handful of flour from the bag, throwing it right on her black top.

natasha gasps, before throwing another handful to your direction.

this went on for a good minute before natasha finally stopped it by grabbing the bag from you.

"okay, okay! time out. i've got to take a picture of you, you look like a ghost!"

"really? because you should really look in the mirror, natasha. i can barely make out the red in your hair right now."

she glances at the reflection of the fridge. "that's. rude."

"who looks like a ghost now?"

"you still do. if i poured the mixture on you with chocolate chips and put you in the oven, would you become a cookie?" she jokes.

"don't you dare mess with the mixture."

"don't worry, love. i'd still love you if you were a cookie." natasha smiles.

[stevenssacrab]

Collision

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Summary: On a routine bike ride through your local park, you meet a beautiful stranger in unique way.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Mentions of blood, and wound care, descriptions of a bike accident

Word Count: 1.0k

a/n: Just a lil short and sweet one, with the ever beautiful Natasha :D

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

The cool autumn air gently nips at your skin, your cheeks round and rosy pink; you always loved a good evening bike ride around your local park; you first started it as a way to get the daily exercise, but you've grown to love the repetitive motion of pushing the petals, and the wind blowing past your face. Today was particularly beautiful; the sun was setting, a ray of crimson and amber painting the sky.

You like to use this time to unwind and think of nothing substantial, no deadlines, upcoming events, or obligations; be in the moment. As you round your 2nd lap around the park, you’re stuck on whether you should do another lap, while deep in thought, you don’t even see the person riding straight for you at an ungodly speed.

“Hey! Watch out!” A bystander yells, but it is already too late; time slows each second longer than the last as you come speeding toward this woman on her bike; there is no avoiding it; it is already happening. You collided with a painful crack, sending you flying over, landing hard on your shoulder, and tumbling forward.

When you open your eyes, you're greeted by a gorgeous woman, her face etched with worry. Her mouth is moving, but you can't hear anything she's saying. You're lost in her eyes, a beautiful mix of blueish green with flicks of amber; she slowly waves her hand in front of your face, snapping back into reality.

"Hello? Are you okay? I'm so sorry I didn't see you until it was too late." she said, her eyes scanning you for injuries, her face dropping when she saw blood coming from your forehead. "Oh my god, I have a first aid kit in my car; I'll be right back," she said quickly; you watched her run away and disappear momentarily behind the trees; you were inspecting the damage when you heard footsteps running toward you. Your eyes scan over her physique; you definitely overlooked that before.

"Okay, let me take a look," she said smoothly, setting the kit down next to you; she cracked open a water bottle and grabbed your hand; she softly put the water bottle into your hand.

"Here, take this," she says while grabbing a packet of ibuprofen; handing you the tablet, she patiently waits for you to do as instructed; you stare at her, mouth agape, "please," she says, gently motioning at the medication, you obey and swallow the pill, you're staring at her, thoroughly aware that you still haven't spoken a word.

"Th-thank you," you say meekly; you look at the palms of your hands.

"You're welcome," she chirps happily, "Let me take a look," she says, cracking open another water bottle; she pours it onto a towel and gently pats your forehead clean.

"So, what's your name?" she asks, focused on your wound.

"Y/N," you say gingerly, using the opportunity to take in every detail of her face, noticing the 2 moles on her cheek.

"You know it's rude to stare?" she quips, never breaking her focus.

"I-I'm not staring; you're just, in front of me is all." you defended

"Uh-huh, sure," she says cockily, flicking her eyes down to meet yours, you try to hold contact, but when she looks at you, you feel as if she's staring right into your soul.

"So, what do you do?" she asks, trying to fill the silence.

"I'm a firefighter," you say proudly.

"Oh, well, that's unexpected," she says, searching for the Neosporin, "how is a firefighter so clumsy?" she teases, her lips coming to a smirk.

"Clumsy? I'm pretty sure you ran into me," you laugh back.

"Why don't you let me make it up to you over coffee?" she says slyly, her eyes snapping to your lips and then back to your eyes.

"Hmm, I suppose," you tease back as you grab the Neosporin from the kit, handing it to her; she generously applies it, eyes watching your face for any hints of pain.

"Do you live around the area?" she asks, firming her hand on your shoulder.

"Yeah, like a 5-minute bike ride from here," you say; you're usually not this open with your personal information, but something about her, you know she's one of the good ones; she grabs a large bandaid and cautiously covers the wound.

"There you go, all better." She leaned back and started putting all the supplies away.

"Oh, let me help you," you say, suddenly moving to help, you knock over the entire box.

"I'm sorry, let me help you," you say; you kneel down and frantically clean up the mess.

"Y/N, relax," she says calmly; she kneels down and helps you clean up.

"Not clumsy, huh?" she says coyly, lifting her brow slightly.

"I'm not. I'm just nervous," you laugh, nervously staring at the ground.

"Do I make you nervous, Y/N?" she questions, slowly closing the space between you, inching closer like an apex predator. You don't know what else to do; you are reduced to a stuttering mess, slowly getting pushed into a nearby tree.

"I-No, I just-" you stutter out; you bump into the tree, suddenly aware of how close she is; you stare at her, eyes as wide as saucers.

"Shhh, it's alright, Y/N," she shushes, gently grabbing your hand; you jump at the sudden contact but instantly melt into her touch.

"Let's get you home, yeah?" she asks sweetly.

"Okay," you say simply, leading her out of the park.

"I'm Natasha, by the way," she says, bringing attention to the fact that you hadn't even asked what her name was; you smack your palm to your forehead, shame engulfing you; how did you forget to ask for her name?

"I'm so sorry, I didn't even ask your name, ugh," you sighed heavily, hitting your face with your hands.

"It's okay," she laughs, breaking any tension you had left in you. "I mean, I did crash into you, and you did land pretty hard," she says gently, thumbing over your knuckles.

"Thank you for taking care of me," you say shyly, avoiding eye contact, "Well, this is me," you say; you let go of her hand and reach for your keys; you do it slowly; you don't want this to end.

"I'll see you this weekend, right, for that coffee?" she asks, patiently awaiting your answer.

"Yes, definitely."

[writing-house-of-m]

Cold hands, Warm hearts

Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader

Summary: Natasha warms you up on a cold day with an impromptu date

A/N: This is for @esouliie ! You can all thank her for this because I don't know when I would have gotten something new finished. This was also the result of there being way too many 'missing Natasha hours' recently (I've also been having a lot of 'missing Wanda hours' too and have re-watched WandaVision because of it). But, everyone... this fic... is so freaking cute and I hope you all think so too. Happy reading and let me know who you think!

"Hey," you hear a familiar rasp from over your shoulder. 

You didn't think you would hear from her so soon. She told you she was going to be busy, which is code for ‘away on a mission’, so have kept yourself occupied for the last few weeks trying not to think of the red head. Which is easier said than done. 

Every morning when you wake up disappointment fills you not seeing her there. Your intertwined lives are now routine. 

It is hard to adjust when she is away, especially when it is for weeks and what feels like no end in sight. On top of that, with missions like these, there is no communication between you to fill the Natasha shaped hole in your life. 

Sometimes you wonder if it would be easier to be involved with someone else, anyone else for that matter, but the thought is gone as quick as it comes because no one could ever replace the way she makes you feel. 

The first week of her absence you filled your free time as much as you could by catching up with friends and family. You constantly found yourself avoiding the question about why you have been so distant recently. It was the one thing Natasha requested from you - not telling anyone about your relationship with her - to, in her words ‘keep you safe'. 

You still remember the way she looked at you. It was the first time you could see past the facade she held, seeing the worry linger in her eyes for a split second. The intensity of her gaze and her hesitance was a strange thing to witness. When you nodded your head in agreement her smile was soft, almost relieved. In that moment you realized you would agree to anything she asked just to see that vulnerable side again. You felt privileged. 

This second and third week have been much slower, a lot of your time has been spent in the four walls of your apartment because of last minute canceled plans and much needed maintenance needed around your home. 

So you decide today, cold be damned, you will be taking a walk through your local park. You shared this little wonder of a place with Natasha in your fourth month of being together, happy to be able to reveal a bit more of you and your life. 

It is a public place, more people pass by here than in the street where you live. But you got to show Natasha all the overlooked secrets; little winding paths that lead to flower gardens, a pond hidden behind some bushes and the gargoyles you can see from one spot when standing in a specific angle by a monument in the center. You even pointed out some regulars you see because of all your time here. From the confined elderly wanting a bit of liberation from their mundane lives to daring children trying to climb the tallest tree they can find. 

A breeze rushes past, the cold chilling you to your bones and you inwardly curse at yourself. Trust you to have picked the coldest day for some freedom. Initially, the brisk air was making you regret your decision, that was until the sun came out. It didn't do a whole lot against the freezing temperature, but it did look pretty against the frost and ice distracting you from the chilly weather. 

The way the sun's rays shine between the branches that stretched out over your head reminded you of spring time and how much you couldn’t wait for the season to change. 

Just as you were about to get out from the clearing for some much needed sunlight and heat on your face, that’s when you heard Natasha. 

It has been so long you think you are hearing things, that is until you turn your head and see her. The long army green coat she is wearing almost makes her look taller. 

Almost. 

Strands of red hair peek out from the beanie Natasha is wearing, a braid is tucked into her pulled up collar and she has a soft smile on her face. One you have noticed she reserves for you. 

It takes everything in you to not run over and jump into her arms, to press your nose into her neck to get a smell of the home you have been craving. 

Big scenes are not her thing, you’ve learnt. 

Instead your eyes drop to her gloved hands holding two hot drinks which takes you out of your stupor and smiling brighter in return. You almost want to ask how she knew where you were but then remember her profession. 

"You look cold," there is a playfulness to Natasha’s voice matching her smirk. 

Regardless of how wrapped up you are, you know your scarf hasn't done much to stop your face from getting cold, it must be covered in a light blush. 

"I could say the same about you," you raise an eyebrow with your own smirk. A noticeable pink tint is adorning her cheeks and nose from the cold bite of the air. You wonder how long she has been trailing you. 

Natasha's smile widens as closes in and hands you one of the cups. You take off your gloves, shoving them into your pocket to allow the heat to bring back the feeling in your frozen hands as you bring it to your nose to take a whiff. Your favorite, of course it is. 

She leans in and pecks you on the lips, her still warm palm from the drink sinks into your cheek making you forget about the kiss of the sun you were walking towards. Natasha disappoints you with how short her lips are on yours, you were hoping for something that was more than just a split second considering how long it has been. 

Although Natasha pulls back it is only by an inch as she remains close to ask, "Where are you going?" 

Her voice is low and her warm breath is a nice contrast to the icy wind. 

Your eyes flutter close as you revel in her presence and soak up the warmth she brings. Brushing your nose against hers you reply, "Wherever my feet take me," you smile and open your eyes to the green ones you selfishly wish to keep to yourself. "I'm glad I have some company now," you whisper. 

"I hope you weren't expecting anyone else," Natasha says with a twitch of an eyebrow. 

You shake your head. "Definitely not," you say, pressing a small kiss to her lips, one that lasts longer than the mediocre one she gave you. "I missed you." 

You like seeing her like this. Carefree. Soft. Unguarded. 

Well as unguarded as can be, it was something you picked up in your first few months of spending time together - Natasha is always alert. The way her eyes flint around every so often, looking around to quickly survey her surroundings, always cautious of any lingering threats. To the untrained eye it looks like she is taking in the scenery, but you know after knowing her for as long as you have. 

Over time it is a habit you have even picked up from her, making you wonder if there are things she has picked up from you. 

Natasha stands by your side allowing you to loop an arm around her waist while you take a sip of your beverage. It leaves a warm trail as it makes its way down your throat. It still isn't as warm as the way Natasha makes you feel though as cheesy as that may sound. 

"Thank you for this, I didn't realize how much I needed it," you say, signaling the paper cup. 

She smiles at you to acknowledge your gratitude. "You're never one to think ahead, plus I saw you shiver," Natasha remarks. 

You scoff, shaking your head, "I did not shiver." 

Some children are laughing not too far in front of you which distracts both of your attentions away from your conversation. A large puddle of water has frozen over and seems to be the main source of entertainment for the little gang. 

The two of you stop to watch their innocence, a pang of jealousy hits you because of how carefree and innocent they are. Not a single worry showing on their faces in this cruel world. 

You have been fortunate to only hear about the atrocities always going on. More so since you started to date Natasha. She doesn't go into detail about her line of work but the faraway look she has on her face sometimes after certain assignments tells you all you need to know. It fills you with pride knowing you are Natasha’s source of domestic normalcy. 

One of the snuggly wrapped up boys slips and tries to regain his footing before he falls to the ground making you let out a breath of laughter. The scene is something straight from a cartoon as the boy tries to find balance when trying to stand again while the rest laugh at him. A boy in a puffy gray coat, who is howling with laughter, loses his feet from under him sending him straight to the ground landing on his butt making the rest of them exclaim even louder. 

The smile you see in your peripheral vision tells you Natasha is enjoying this too. 

"How long had you been watching me before you decided to come over, stalker?" You ask, curiosity getting the better of you. 

"Long enough to see you shiver," Natasha accuses in her husky voice. 

You bark out a laugh, "I do not shiver!" 

"Yeah, yeah, you keep lying to yourself," Natasha smirks. 

You spend long minutes, people watching while sipping on your drinks and basking in this precious stolen time you get to spend with each other. 

The children are fewer now, some of them have left with their parents while the rest stay. They have started a game to see who can stay on their feet the longest as they try to knock each other down. 

Sometimes you forget Natasha’s past, what little you know of it, and almost ask about her childhood. You bite your tongue to stop yourself from asking 'What did you get up to as a kid?’ 

Instead, you face Natasha as she continues to stare on at the scene; her side profile is enough to show her fatigue. You place your empty cup on the wall beside you so you can take her face in your hands. 

Natasha takes your lead to turn in your direction allowing you to take in all of her features. 

"You look tired," you whisper in concern as your thumb rubs along her cheekbone. 

"Gee, thanks(!)" Natasha chuckles at her own sarcasm. 

"Nat," you start, ready to reprimand her for not being serious. 

"We’ve had some long days. But don’t worry, I'll be off for the holidays,” Natasha replies. “You'll have me for two weeks. That’s enough time for you to get sick of having me around. By the end of it you’re going to want to be rid of me." 

"Impossible," you say without thinking then lean in to press a kiss to the corner of her lips. 

Natasha turns her head slightly to meet your lips, sighing when she allows herself a moment of being wrapped up in you. 

A buzzing sound makes you stop before you can deepen the kiss any further. You let out a breath of disdain from Natasha’s phone ruining your moment. Natasha smiles at you apologetically, taking the device from her pocket. 

While Natasha checks the notification you give her some privacy, picking up both empty cups to discard them. 

When you return and meet Natasha's eyes, the sparkle that was there just moments ago has faded as regret takes over. She is being called back. 

"Three more days, then you're all mine, Romanoff,” you smile. “And for a whole two weeks!" you exaggerate in hopes to lessen the blow of her having to leave. "How did I get so lucky? I guess I'm being spoiled this season." 

You know you succeed when you see the corners of Natasha's lips raise slightly before she holds onto your coat and pulls you in kissing you again. 

Her phone buzzes impatiently, interrupting you again . 

"I have to go," Natasha says, her warm breath fanning over your face as she rests her forehead against yours. ”But just know, I’m the lucky one here.” 

You smile at her confession and revel once more in the warmth she provides before you have to face the harsh cold that comes with the Winter months alone. 

Kissing Natasha’s forehead you meet her loving green gaze once more. "Come back to me," you breathe out as light as the breeze chilling you. 

"Always," Natasha says, sweetly and just as quiet. Her voice carries the weight of more than the one worded sentence she has spoken. 

Taking a breath, Natasha gives you a final peck before she drags herself away from you. 

Your arm stretches out as Natasha walks away, your hand lingering in hers for those extra few seconds of comfort. But mostly because you don't want to let her go. 

Saying goodbye is always difficult no matter how short the visit. 

As you watch her walk away you think about the first time you met the assassin. 

Out of all the windows in the city Natasha crashed through yours. Your shock had you frozen in place until she tried to stumble out of your apartment but collapsed from fatigue because of the fight she had just endured. 

After getting over the fact an Avenger covered in dirt and blood had ruined your new rug, you used your limited first aid knowledge to nurse her back to health. When she awoke a few hours later, she told you just how crappy of a job you had done. 

What got Natasha’s attention was when you quipped back saying you should have let her bleed out to make a quick buck off of all of her equipment to pay for the damages she caused. 

When she left a short while later you didn’t think you would ever see her in person again. You were looking forward to being able to tell all the people in your life about the encounter with an actual superhero. 

Reality hit you in the gut with the name of ‘Non Disclosure Agreement’ and a clean up crew which you couldn’t be mad about. 

Unbeknownst to you, after your first meeting Natasha couldn't stop herself from wanting to see you again. Her mind drifted to the ‘kind’ (your words not hers) stranger who applied sloppy bandages to her arm and stomach. The messy job would have gotten infected if she hadn’t woken up. Natasha caught herself smiling at the memory too often and had to force herself to be present for work. 

Life went on and your encounter felt less and less real as each day passed. Until one evening, while in your office building working late, you received a call telling you you were needed on the roof. Skeptical as you were, you obeyed thinking of the promotion you had been working so hard toward. 

What you hadn’t expected was a fully healed Black Widow to emerge from the shadows, playfully schooling you to not comply with shady orders received late at night. Then insulting you with how boring your life was and how you should learn to cook for yourself instead of wasting all your money on take-out. 

Surprise was an understatement and instead of letting that show, like your mouth wasn’t already slightly hanging open from the shock while she spoke, you decided to play Natasha’s game and call her out for the stalker that she was. 

Since then your meetings have been sporadic but it didn’t stop you both from falling for each other. Who knew a year and a half on you would be in a relationship with each other, life would have made more sense if you had stopped talking. But you have defied the odds and are still going strong. 

When you make it back to your apartment you find flowers waiting for you on the kitchen counter making you smile. A card attached to them with a message in Natasha’s handwriting that reads ‘3 more days ♡’ makes you feel like your heart is going to burst from emotion. 

Needless to say that smile never left your face throughout you making dinner all the way up until the moment you go to bed that night. Natasha somehow always has a habit of making you feel like a giddy teenager. 

You couldn’t wait to see her again. The gift you have been wanting to give to her for a few weeks has been hidden under your towels in the kitchen cabinet. You can only hope she doesn't already know about it. 

The next time you are together you are going to give her a key to your apartment so that she knows she will always have a place to come back to. 

A place she can call home. 

[lovelyy-moonlight]

[wandascrush]

N.R. Master-list

Fluff: ~ Angst: ! Smut: *

I do not give anyone permission to repost, plagiarize, or take credit for my original work. If you see this anywhere please let me know. Reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated :) Men DNI

Let the light in pt. 1 !

[thedelusionalbitchgianna]

Made c.ai bots only 3 Natasha's so far and they're honestly just slightly differently

[ryloriee678999]

You’re Not Gonna Leave Me (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

A/N: I lied, I’m this posting this today and not tomorrow. 

Summary: [AU?] Natasha and you fight after finding out that she's going to become an Avenger. (900 Words)

Warnings: unhappy ending, arguing, angst.

-

The moment when Natasha got the offer to join the Avengers was the moment you knew your relationship was over.

You were just about to watch Netflix on Natasha's computer when you found it. The moment you entered the password, her email was already open. You would never go through her personal stuff but something caught your eye.

An email sent by Tony Stark? Hesitantly you click on it. You skim through it since it wasn't too long. It was a bunch of useless information until the end. 

‘We could use someone like you on our team. Especially in times like this, we need you. Think It over, I hope you show up tomorrow.’

You blinked and read it again. Was Natasha planning to become an Avenger without telling you? 

At the wrong time, Natasha walked in with a mouth full of popcorn. She was laying in bed waiting for you to grab the laptop. “Why are you taking so long? Let's start the movie,” she whined.

She walked in front of you to see what you were doing and you moved away. You would have ignored the email and never bring it up but you had to. The email said tomorrow.  “What is this?” You question and hold the laptop in front of her to see.

Natasha’s smile dropped, a frown replacing it. “What's what?” She questioned then took the computer from you. Her eyes squinted to read the words in front of her. Right when she realized what it was, she put the computer down and sighed.

“What is this?” You repeat, pointing at the screen. “What's an email like this doing in your inbox, Natasha?”

Natasha could tell you were growing distressed so she grabs your arms with her hands to keep you in place. Right away you push yourself away from her. “No, you can't do this! You said that you were over that life, you said you wanted everything to be normal. Y-You said that you’d stay with me.”

Your bottom lip trembled and tears already started escaping your eyes. “You promised, why are you doing this?” 

“I was just thinking of it,” she defends. It was true, as much as Natasha wanted to deny it. She was thinking about it, and a part of her did want to go. The only reason she hasn't replied yet was simply because of you. 

You wanted to yell at her. You expected she would have already said no, there’s no way she could leave, right? “You’re thinking about putting yourself in danger again? You said you were over that! Do I have to repeat every promise you’ve made to me, or will I have to wait until you break them again?”

Her eyebrows furrowed at your words but she knew that you were just angry. “You heard them, they need me. People are in trouble, you saw the news,” she replied. 

The response only made you angrier. It felt like an excuse to leave you. “They can get someone else! There are other people out there. You’re not one in a million Natasha, there are better fucking assassins.”

You both knew there was no one else better out there. It was selfish of you but you finally had Natasha to yourself, is it really that stupid to want her for longer. “I can bring you with me, we can live in America together.” Another excuse caused you to groan. “You’re not listening to me,” you yell. “What about our life here? We can't just leave.” 

Natasha looked at you with a guilty expression. You grab a fist full of her shirt, gripping it tightly. “Stay, you can't leave. Please, Наталья.” You’re practically begging her.

At this point, you were hyperventilating and on the urge of a panic attack. More pleads struggled to leave your lips. Was this life not enough for her? Would the Avengers make her happier? Am I just holding her back from saving people? You kept thinking and thinking until you were engulfed in her arms.

“Calm down, shhh it’s okay,” Natasha whispered, her lips kissing across your scalp to calm you down. “I’ll respond to them tomorrow, I won't go, okay? I’m not leaving.”

“Okay,” you mumble. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” she said while rubbing your back. ”Don't worry about it anymore, I’m staying,” she cooed. Her soft words calmed you down, you were more than happy Natasha wasn't going but You still felt a little guilty about it. Natasha reassured you that she was happy here and that she was staying.

You allow her to lead you to the bedroom, abandoning the idea of watching a movie. Natasha lays down beside you, pushing you into her arms so your back rests against her front. She spoke about her plans to take an off day to spend it with you tomorrow. Your body is completely relaxed next to her. Sleep slowly took over you as she kept talking. 

When Natasha notices, she brushes strands of hair out of your face before giving a soft kiss on the side of your head. “I’ll make it up to you one day, I promise,” she whispers and gives you one last kiss on your forehead. 

The next day you wake up and you notice the absence of your girlfriend right away. When you look around the house for her and continuously call and text her, there's nothing. Your girlfriend is gone without a trace or message. 

Natasha left, breaking her promise. ‘Do I have to repeat every promise you’ve made to me, or will I have to wait until you break them again?’

[smutinlove]

A CHANCE PLEASE

I'll even jump off a cliff for you 🥺

[infernalodie]

𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞 || 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟

“𝘐 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳“

Inspo: SYML - Hurt For Me Moses Sumney - Doomed

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Black!Male!reader

Summary: Sickness clung to the most precious. When given a chance to save your family the pain of losing you, would you let such an opportunity slip away for your own selfishness?

Warnings: Angst, sad fluff, and even more angst

Words 4098

Exhaustion clung heavily to Natasha’s body like a disease. The soft cushioning of the couch and the warm fur blanket wrapped around her did little to prevent her from sleeping. But the candlelit gave a heavenly scent of Sandalwood and Coconut, which reached throughout the apartment.

She glanced down at the silver watch. The arms clicked with each second and minute that passed. Natasha sighed, letting her nails scrape against the leather strap softly. Staring blankly at the TV that played 21 Jump Street for the past 3 hours. How you could put up with the same series for the past year in a row was lost upon her.

But what her husband watched was the last thing she cared about. She was more focused on the fact that work had been keeping you as of late. Limiting the time she got to spend with you in your guys’ downtime. And with her job with the Avengers, the time you two spent together was already lower than she’d liked to admit. The life you lived was domesticated. You lived a normal life, you worked a normal job, you had a normal family, you lived what she wanted so desperately to have. So, these moments of experiencing it with you were all that she wanted with the time that she got with you before she would have to save the world or fight a brand new villain.

In spite of that, she couldn’t help but take notice that your job had become more demanding of you. With the addition of Tony being a childhood friend of yours, it became an often occurrence you came home drunk after a night out with the said man. It was becoming more and more concerning as to what was keeping you, but Natasha knew she couldn’t badger you with questions. It's bad enough that you have to try and pay bills, put food on the table, and take care of your guys’ daughter. You had to be there more than Natasha and she couldn’t hold it against you.

So, it came as a relief when she heard you enter the apartment with a soft sigh. Natasha turned halfway onto the couch, taking in your appearance that just showed how much time work had been taking over your life. The bags under your eyes, the sluggish movements, the quiet muttering as you blinked tiredly with a shake of your head. She was concerned but knew this is how you treated yourself even before the both of you met.

“How was work?” Her voice was like a sweet melody. A safe place of solitude where you knew her words would be the source of grounding you and reassuring you things would be okay.

You kicked off your shoes, blowing a raspberry as you tossed your workbag onto the kitchen counter. “It was as good as it can get,” you sighed, turning to the medicine cupboard and grabbing some Tylenol. “Alice fall asleep alright?”

Natasha got up from the couch with a chuckle. “She did,” she answered. “We watched Frozen for the hundredth time and got to talk about all our dirty little secrets.” Her arms wrapped around your waist, feeling your chest vibrate with that timbre laugh of yours washing over her. An unexpected laugh of her own slipped past her pink lips as she tucked her head under your arm.

Your arm wrapped around her shoulder as you dropped the small tablet into the glass cup filled with water. Humming in content of Natasha’s warm hands slipping under your shirt and rubbing your aching body.

“Thank you for taking time off from work to watch her,” you said. “I know you have an important job and all, I just couldn’t miss out on some of the charts Quentin needed for tomorrow.”

“Y/n, it was no problem,” she reassured. “I may not be her biological mother, but she’s my daughter nonetheless. We do what we have to to make things work. Today is no different from half the things you’ve done for me.”

The compromises you two made were enough to maintain this relationship. Sure, Natasha couldn’t show up as much as she did, but when she did, it made Alice’s world - as well as yours. Your guys’ lives shouldn’t have worked as well as they did. But here you two were. Thriving and living life the both of you were happy with. Yet, there was still a truth you hadn’t admitted to. The conflict was bleeding into your relationship and it was beginning to take its toll on you.

But until you finally would find the confidence to tell her the truth, you opted to hide it behind a smile that you were sure she could see through. “What have you been watching?”

Natasha scoffed, stuffing her face into the centre of your back. “What do you think?” She groaned when she heard you chuckle in amusement, tilting your head back as you drank the glass of water. “I can practically recite every line of every episode.”

“Well, then you can do that tonight,” you told her as the both of you made your way back over to the couch.

She raised her brows in surprise. “You’re staying up?” She inquired. “You don’t think you need some rest?”

Collapsing onto the couch with a groan, you sighed. “You stayed up waiting for me, this is the least I can do.” Your arms opened, inviting your wife to fill the extra space beside you.

Natasha did so, laying down in front of you with her back flush against your chest. One of your arms is tiredly wrapped around her waist with your other arm being used as a cushion for her head. It was these moments of relaxation with your wife that mattered. Where you could forget every little problem that gnawed at you and just be here.

“How was work?” You muttered, placing a kiss being her ear as Natasha hummed.

“Well, Tony is still a pain in the ass.” You couldn’t help but laugh. Hiding your face in her hair as she grinned like a child. “Am I wrong? He’s always annoying to deal with.”

“Yeah, but he’s always been like that,” you chuckled. “His dad was a smartass and it just transferred over. The small bit of Tony that is loving is from his mom.”

“Maybe he should inherit more of his mom's mannerisms.” Her comment had earned a tiny pinch on her stomach, causing the woman to elbow you in the stomach in retaliation.

Smirking in amusement when you groaned in pain. She grabbed your hand, pressing her pink lips to your chocolate skin with a tiny giggle. “You deserved that one, honey.”

A pained hum fell from your lips as you stuffed her face in her hair. Inhaling deeply as your eyes slowly grew heavier and heavier with each moment. You sunk farther and farther the more you breathed in her scent and allowed her to lay soft delicate kisses on your hand. Because time was ticking down and your decision to tell her about the unknown disease that had been ruining your life. Or keep it secret was still up in the air. Only furthering your likely hood to sleep and try to forget about it.

“Sleep, baby,” Natasha murmured, loud enough for you to feel reassured that you could relax with your lover. And soon enough, you fell into a deep slumber. An uneasy feeling in your stomach at the knowledge that had yet to be given to Natasha.

The streets of New York were as loud and chaotic as any other day. No matter the season or the world-ending event, this city never seemed to relent with how loud it could be. And it was unforgiving by the train you had taken to get to the Avengers tower.

But thankfully, you had shown up early enough that you didn’t run into anyone. Taking the elevator down to the underground lab that Tony had promised you was only a secret he and Banner knew of. And when you stepped out, you were greeted by the sight of the two men talking at the centre table. Many other ones harbouring tech that you had no intention of trying to learn or understand.

So, you walked past them and proceeded towards the two geniuses. Both were talking in hushed tones with Bruce hissing a response back to Tony. Only causing the billionaire to let out an exasperated breath, rubbing his brow. A sight you weren’t quite used to seeing when it came to your childhood best friend.

“What’s going on guys?” You inquired worriedly, alerting them of your eventual presence.

Tony slightly flinched, inhaling deeply before plastering a smile. “Nothing much, sport,” he said. “How’re you feeling today? Romanoff leave you high and dry like usual?”

You punched the man in the shoulder. “I think you forget I can still kick your ass, Tony.”

The man laughed sarcastically before placing an arm around your shoulders. “Come with me for a second.”

He leads you deeper into the laboratory and down a few hallways coming to a stop outside of a door. Tony punched in a four-digit code before the door beeped and slid open. The interior of the room was all wood, giving a warm and comforting feeling for you as you stepped inside. In the centre of the small room stood a desk with a screen in the centre of said desk with a glass window to the left of you. It was all black, obscuring what was on the other side.

“After a few scans recently, we’ve come to one conclusion on your disease,” Tony said, walking towards the desk. “The tumour has progressed further than anything me or Banner had ever seen before. And I think any doctor would say the same if you brought it to them.”

You frowned, letting out a quiet laugh as you shrugged off your jacket. “So, what are you telling me, Tony?” You inquired. “We can just remove it, right?”

Tony pursed his lips, bracing his hands against the desk. “As I said, it's progressed to a point where I can’t even tell you what it would result in besides that it's cancerous,” he explained. “It’s invaded the other tissues around your brain and it's slowly invading more each day. There’s no nipping this one in the butt, Y/n.”

It seemed like the world could be invaded by Chitauri again, and that would still be the last thing on your mind. There was a nauseating feeling in the centre of your stomach, causing you to swallow the lump in the back of your throat. Staring at your friend as you stepped to the side of the desk. “What are you saying, Tony?”

The man inhaled deeply, blinking rapidly as he sniffled. “The tumour has caused cancer,” he confessed. “Those seizures haven’t just been from you working extensive hours. It's been the tumour that has created an onset of a rare and unidentified cancer we don’t know how to combat.”

Tapping a few things on the screen in front of him, Tony looked up at the glass that once was black, now flushed away to show what was inside. And your heart sunk to the floor as you stared at an identical clone of yourself. Down to every little tiny detail, it looked exactly like you. No imperfections besides the ones from your past and present. You laid unconscious on a wooden chair, relaxed, with a small device on your temple that flashed white light.

“We made him as an option.”

You flinched, snapping free from your daze as you looked at Tony. “What do you mean?” You asked. “We can deal with this shit on our own. Why and how you made a clone of me isn’t what I want for my wife or kid, Tony. For you to go and do that is such bullshit and-”

“You are dying!” Tony’s yell made you shut up. Sucking in a harsh breath as you stared at your friend, who was barely holding it together himself. “You are dying Y/n, and there is nothing I can do about it.” Tony’s hands fell by his sides with an exasperated shrug.

The room was suffocating as you stared at Tony. He shook his head, motioning with his arms aimlessly. “But you have an opportunity here to save Natasha and Alice the pain of your death.”

“And you didn’t think of talking to me first?” You erupted, tears spilling from your eyes as you shoved him away. “What gave you that right? I came to you and Bruce wanting to know what was wrong. I didn’t seek you trying to make decisions for me.”

Tony frowned, a hint of offence evident in the way his face twisted in anger. “You think I like this?” He barked. “You think I like having to tell my friend he’s dying? Look around you, Y/n! This isn’t just about doing Natasha and Alice a favour - it’s about everyone else. Steve, Bucky, Wanda, Sam, they all care about you, man! If I let you leave here, tell them you’re dying, I feel like that’s on me because I knew I could’ve saved them from the pain.”

There wasn’t much of an argument you could put up against Tony besides the fact that this was your life in a discussion. Your wife, your daughter, your friends, they were your home and everything encompassing your life. Sure, your friends were important, but it was Natasha and Alice that mattered the most here. What would come for them if you decided to tell them or not.

Because what happened for their lives is what you cared for. How would things go for Alice? Would she just move into Avengers tower with Natasha?  Would she still be able to get to school with you being gone? These were questions your mind couldn’t conjure up answers for. But you knew that if this clone of you had your memories and consciousness as you, then perhaps nothing would exactly change. It would just be that you were gone and this fake or brand new version of you would take your place.

“Do this with me and Banner and let life go on for your family,” Tony muttered. “Because the moment you tell Natasha what is happening, this opportunity is gone.”

The train ride was quieter than most days. You didn’t feel like your body was being sucked free of fresh air like you usually did. Perhaps it was the fact that you couldn’t give Tony the yes or no answer to his question yet. But tonight, there was going to be a party happening at the Avengers Tower and you were hoping then you could give Bruce and Tony the answer they needed.

Stepping off the train and almost in an instant, you felt your head begin to spin. A gasp left your lips as your legs folded beneath you. You tumbled to the ground as your body begins to seize and twitch. And it feels like only a moment later that darkness greets you before you are gasping for air. Looking around you, you find a few bystanders staring at you in absolute concern and fear.

On unsteady legs, you get up and try to get out of the subway as soon as you can. Hoping no one called 911 to come and save you. Not even caring to acknowledge the comments of concern from the people who had witnessed your seizure. Your chest rises and falls as you rush across the street, evading cars that nearly run into you. Soon, making it to your apartment building.

When you finally make it inside, you groan in pain as you kick your shoes off. There is the faint sound of giggling coming from your bedroom, and you feel the unconscious pull towards it. Edging to the doorway, you find Natasha and Alice standing in the mirror striking poses in their dresses for tonight. Faint music played from Alice’s tablet as they continued to act as models.

Despite your prior moment of inevitability, you smiled. Pushing the door a little wider and leaning against the doorframe, you watched your daughter break out into song. Natasha doing the same as she notices you and smiles as well.

Something about that smile felt the exact same as the day you met her right before Ultron tried destroying the Avengers. The way she found time to joke with you was by surviving you a beer. It all felt just like that.

“Look who decided to show up,” Natasha commented. “Looking like a mess as well. What happened?”

Forcing a smile, you waved your hand. “Nothing,” you replied. “Just took a tumble on my way here.”

“You have always been clumsy.” Natasha turned to Alice. “Did dad ever tell you about that time he thought we were being robbed, so when he rushed out of bed he face planted?”

“That sounds like dad.” Alice quirked with that childish grin of mischief.

“Okay, okay, let’s go,” you exclaimed. “I don’t need to relive that embarrassing moment.” You ushered the pair out of the bedroom and towards the front door.

Natasha leaned into your side, holding your hand softly with that warm smile of hers. But it's like she could sense that something was wrong. She’d noticed it before with your smile and how forceful it had been. It was one of the good and bad things she had achieved with the Red Room. Being able to read people like a book. “What’s going on, Y/n?”

Your lips parted to speak, but nothing came out. Just tell her - tell her you are dying and you don’t know what to do. Ask for her guidance and get her to promise to be there for Alice if she can’t love this clone of yours.

But you smiled, this one not as forced as the others. “I just love you so much.”

It seemed like Natasha took that as a viable response as she smiled as well. “I love you, Y/n Y/L/N.”

You, Natasha, and Alice drove all the way to Avengers tower. By the time you arrived, the party was already in full swing. Natasha had grabbed Alice’s hand, taking her towards Morgan who was with Pepper. You opted to go towards the pool table where Sam and Steve were playing.

For the first time in a while, things felt normal. You didn’t have your death in mind when laughing and drinking with your friends. And whenever you looked at Natasha from across the room, you saw her already watching you. Giving that beautiful smile and piercing your soul with those alluring emerald green eyes. She was painfully beautiful tonight with that silk dress clinging nicely to each curve of her body.

She always looked beautiful.

And somewhere in that time, you had found yourself on the helipad that broke off from the rest of the party. A cold beer in hand as you stared out at the city lights below.

“Thought I would find you out here.” Turning halfway, you found Bruce with that same uncomfortable, yet, comforting smile approaching you.

You sighed, using your free hand to briskly run up your caramel-toned arm with a sigh. “Wanted to get some fresh air,” you commented. “Just needed time to think.”

Bruce chuckled softly, rubbing his hands together as he stood beside you. “Big crowds like that, yeah, I understand,” he agreed. “Can’t stand it sometimes. Especially with Tony’s obnoxiousness.”

You laughed, nodding. “We can both agree on that.”

The two of you laughed, allowing this little moment to brighten the mood slightly. But it slowly disappeared as you looked back at the party. Able to see your wife dancing with your daughter to a tune that the wind howling around you prevented. They looked so happy. Unbothered by anything else going on in their lives.

Clearing your throat, you glanced at Bruce. “I can’t figure out what the right thing is here.” Bruce looked up at you upon hearing your words spoken in a low and unmistakable depressed tone. “I don’t know if lying to them is the better option over telling the truth.” Shrugging, you licked your lips. “I thought I had more time to decide I guess.”

The pain in your voice, the desperation for the next best thing was all Bruce could hear. He knew how much you loved Natasha. It wasn’t normal for such a woman to be tied down by a ring. Yet, she had been willing to do it with you. That said something itself without mentioning the other smaller details.

Sighing, Bruce shook his head. “There is no better option in this situation, Y/n,” he consoled. “EIther will have its positives and negatives - and neither I nor Tony can dictate what you want to do. But I can tell you that, in all the years I’ve known Natasha, I haven’t seen her smile as much as she has with you.”

You turned to the man, reaching for more comfort. “She is happier with you and Alice around,” he continued. “She talks about the both of you all the time. As I said, I cannot make any decision for you, but Tony is right in the fact that doing this will save them from the pain of your loss. They wouldn’t be the same with you being gone.”

With that, you looked back at your family. Watching how they smiled, laughed, and enjoyed this time of happiness while you were faced with two forks on the road. Yet, you believe you had already known the answer before you even realized it.

Birds chirped and the grass shifted with a soft gust of wind. The cliff face you sat upon gave a view of the ocean that reached as far as you could. No other sight of land in sight, just the isolation of life. Your hand grasped the hardwood exterior of a pencil as you brought the led carefully along the paper. Reaching to your left to thermos and taking a sip of the brewed coffee you had made hours prior to coming out here.

“There we go.” Lifting the pencil from the picture, you smiled at the picture of Natasha and Alice. Hoping that they felt and looked as happy as they did in the picture.

Placing the paper inside your book, you stood to your feet and went on the trek back to the old cabin. Walking through the forest where trees stood taller than the sky and the overgrowth of bushes and vines clung to every surface. The forever expanding green only further reminded you of the woman that you loved.

Entering the old log cabin, the immediate beeping alerted your senses. Walking to your computer in the living room and turn it on. The email inbox had only one recent file from Tony and it was of a video. Clicking carefully on the file, the application booted up and you pressed play.

The vision was given and you could see from the eyes of who you guessed was your clone. He walked from your office and towards the kitchen where Natasha was putting away dishes.

“Babe?” Your clone calls out to your wife, who glances up with a smile.

“What’s up?”

“Tell me you love me.” He says.

Natasha stares at him confused for a moment. “Love you?”

“No, no, no,” he chuckles. “Put some more heart and soul into it.”

“I could say the same about your cooking, but I’m not demanding any change.” Natasha quipped in amusement.

You couldn’t help but laugh. The faintest of stinging was evident behind your eyes as you stared softly at the screen.

“Come on,” he whines. “Come on. I want you to look me in my eyes and tell me you love me.”

Natasha stops for a moment, looking at him in the eyes. A soft smile etching onto her lips. “I love you, Y/n Y/L/N,” she says. “Always have. Always will.”

And just like that, the video stops and it's frozen on Natasha’s beautiful smile with her last words piercing the part of you that feels like it had been unfulfilled since you left. But it was her words that reassured you and comforted you in this time of loneliness and self-doubt.

And with just a whisper of air left in your lungs, you smile with tears running down your cheeks.

“Forever and always.”

[wandasfifthwife]

finding you ₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺

— wandanat x fem/afab!reader

༺ tw || discussions of sexual acts/kinks but nothing (yet), reader deals with stress/anxiety, dom/sub dynamic/relationship, dom natasha/wanda w/ sub reader, reader’s personality is described to be shy/anxious/introverted, not proofread

༺ a/n || I’ve never personally been in a dom/sub relationship, so if I get things wrong that’s why! If you’re getting into one— don’t use this as a guide/reference 😭

— masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ 3.2k words₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part —

The city was truly a different world at night just with the way everything seems to take a breath of life. It was cooler, a breeze making its way through the buildings to cause goosebumps on any person walking by. It was cold enough that your friend had thought to try and hurdle you under their jacket, something you forgot to bring.

They didn’t seem to mind, pulling you under the warm blanket of a coat and rushing the two of you towards your apartment. You had just finished dinner—using it as a way to bond and meet up since work has separated you both for too long—and now we’re heading back to your apartment.

“You’re back,” one of your roommates speaks up from their location on the couch, “how was dinner?”

“Great, but I was freezing. You were right about bringing a jacket tonight, I really should’ve.”

“The winds tunnel through these buildings, it’s always good to pack a jacket.”

“Yes well thank you. Is it alright if my friend stays over?”

Your roommates waves a hand, dismissing her claim and focusing back on the tv show. The sounds of whatever bachelor show was playing quiets once you’ve shut your door behind you.

Your friend pins you with a look as she lays down flat into your bed, “what’s the deal with that person from work?”

“It’s really nothing, I think some people are just going through a rough time.”

“Okay well whatever—babe, it’s still not okay.”

There’s a creak in your bed once you’ve decided to join her, the old thing hanging on since you’ve not been able to afford a new one.

“Yeah sure they’ve made some rude comments, but they weren’t that bad.”

“Not to mention they also stole your idea and they’ve been aggressive towards you for no reason—tell them that they’re being a bitch.”

The emotions liked to confrontation are like sinking to the bottom of a body of water, suffocating. Your friend lies beside you, waiting, but her raised eyebrows give away her impatience, waiting to argue with you over your hesitation. A sigh makes it way out, a vocalization of how you’re feeling on the inside, “I really don’t know if I need to.”

“It’s less of a have to and more of a should do. Just be a bitch back,” she makes a poor attempt at reeling in her aggression after your expression of disgust, “or at least talk to someone higher up.”

“I’ll maybe talk to someone later—“ you put a hand up to silence her oncoming attack “—and that’s it. I appreciate you caring.”

“I just want you to be able to stand up for yourself.”

“I know, and I love you for that, but I’m done with stressful topics. I’d like to just talk about exciting things.”

She deadpans, “but this fun.”

A laugh filled amusement fills the room, your foot coming to shove her. There’s a pause after, ears turning into the smaller and more minute sounds. Dramatic stage music, though silenced by your door, it’s loud enough to still make an entrance in your room along with the sirens outside. The sheets rustle as your friend moves onto her side, body facing towards you. It was a gentle breeze until she began to fight off a grin, the thoughts in her mind almost driving a crazed expression in her face.

“Have you thought anymore about what I said?”

“You talk a lot, which of those many conversations are you mentioning?”

“The stress-relieving one.”

The words are quick to bring a similar crazed expression on your own face, one similar to your friend’s but more terrified.

“No.”

“Aw come on. I do it and it’s worked wonders, I still know—“

“I’ve heard enough for one night, you’re too public with it—how’re you not embarrassed?”

She rolls, resting her head on you, “you’re shy, I’m not. I don’t care what others say.”

“You’re weird.”

Her shoulders upturned in a shrugging motion, the vibration from her low hum ticking your stomach. The floor creeks again when she slings her feet off the mattress to find something to eat, leaving you alone for a minute. It seemed to stretch forever due to waiting every second to ask her a burning question. It was nearly on fire when she finally came back, the words tumbling from you.

“Who’re the people?”

It was, technically, four words that set off an hour and a half conversation.

Your friend’s persistently paid off after about two months of bringing it up. It started out as a question to check up, formed into a joke/tease, and ended up as a proposal. You’ve eventually thawed, only tonight feeling comfortable enough to ask, allowing yourself to be curious. It was curiosity, but you strayed far away from any sexual conversations, feeling that topic would actually throw you over the edge.

You pick at your nails, a nervous habit to ease the discomfort of the vulnerable conversation, “what do you do?”

“You mean my role? It’s what I said before, I’m a dominant in our relationship.”

“How often do you do it?”

“Sex?”

Her hand swats at your shoulder, enabling your fidgeting to become actions of aggression. You shove back, “fuck off.”

“Anyways, it depends on each relationship, but for us we fall into it most nights. Usually they come home and I can pick up the signs. I came to understand their body language about a month after us dating that they’re feeling a specific way.”

“Too intimate.”

“Oh yeah, it’s intimate and entirely built on trust. It’s why I love it so much,” your friend reached a hand over, stretching to reach until her fingers wrap around her phone, “I’ll send you their number. It’s entirely up to you from this point on. But genuinely though, if anything I say is making you uncomfortable let me know. I truly have just wanted to help.”

It wasn’t brought up again. An episode of some old show capturing the both of your attention the rest of the night, her scratchy laugh engraved in your mind from how often she found the dialogue hilarious. A small red mark forming from when she got too excited, jumping on the bed and bouncing your body to move and hit a dull item nearby. Thankfully you don’t have neighbors that occupy the room below you.

It was a sad goodbye when you both had the knowledge of how busy your schedules were. You had a form of contact, your phone, but you didn’t always have access to her in person. The lights in the apartment were shut off, the dark almost navy hue covers the room. You clicked your phone on, squinting from the onset of light before checking your recent text from her, “their” contact information sitting open on your phone for the night.

It turned out to be a weak battle, with the conflict being between man vs man. You had daily arguments with yourself, both sides—heart and mind—fighting with valid reasons. You don’t know if they’d be a weirdo overtime. They could not win your trust, or understand you, step over you like your coworker at work has been.

It could be a waste of time to be so intimate with someone and have the time come to a close, so you make a new space in your contacts for their number. You had a simple message typed out, introducing yourself and how you got their number, and then prompt turned your phone off.

The waiting period consumed you.

Brushing your teeth, you’d flip your phone to find that the notification was another spam email from a store you visited two years ago, reminding you to unsubscribe yet again. At work, you’d even pulled your phone from where it rested under your thigh to check whenever it buzzed. It was impossible to deny when the evidence was written all over your face, but you liked to believe you didn’t care.

The earth spun a whole two times and you’d still gotten no response. You checked your phone less, initial nerves transforming right into worry. Were you bothering them?

“Stop fretting,” your friend told you over the phone and then proceeding to let out a laugh at your embarrassed rant, all about how you regret reaching out.

“Hey, I wouldn’t have hooked you up if I thought they weren’t interested. It’s barely been two days.”

“You’re right,” your phone sat across from you, giving you the perfect view to stare at her personalized contact photo,

“Give it time.”

You had another speech about to spill about how you’re not going to obsessively check anymore, but that buzzed sound you’ve grown to respond to rapped against your wooden table.

Your lungs contract, closing when a contact with no profile photo and definitely no name appears. Your friend’s voice becoming background noise as your focus snaps to the unopened message, watching it as it slides away.

“Okay well I have to sleep. Love you, stop freaking out.”

The call ends abruptly, a habit of hers you’re usually frustrated with but now you’re grateful. Nerves at a new high for the day when a second message comes in. Feet patter on the hound, carrying you to climb into your room.

Realizing they’ve messaged you back is both an energy drainer and giver. Lights bright on your face while you’re unlocking your phone, clicking on the chat button. Your mind makes up the worst scenarios in hopes to keep your expectations low, but as your eyes sweep across the text a smile appeared on your face.

Long text summarized, they’d love to meet you in person and brief information was shared. They’d agreed to meet halfway at a coffee shop in Manhattan named, “coffee project nyc.”

The closest subway station was swarmed with a dozen people, the time on your phone being the explanation behind why others were brushing against you on the train. They contained to when after the train had arrived, pulling you along with them like a terrible tide.

Your phone map is a virtue, showing you the route until the cafe is in sight just across the street. It was across the street but your feet were stuck to the side you were on. Seconds passed like milliseconds, speeding up like your breathing.

The door had a little bell, one that rang when you walk through and sit down at the closest open seat to you. Eyes set on your phone screen like you were doing something meaningful by scrolling through already opened texts.

A new text appeared, a statement, telling you that they’d arrive. It wasn’t the intention, but you realized you hadn’t told them you had also arrived. The bell rung as it did for you, signaling to you and the others in the building that another had entered.

Her tone was clear when she spoke to you, leaning so she can look at your eyes. An air of calm around her when she introduced herself, saying how nice it was to meet in person.

“Is there anything you’d like from here? Natasha’s in line to get herself something.”

“Oh no,” you internally wince at how high your tone is pitched, “I’ll just pay for my own later!”

“It’s on us if you’d like any,” she repeats the offer with a smile. The scent from all the coffee beans and tea leaves is too addicting, filling your senses and pulling at the right heart strings to make you weak.

“If it’s okay could I maybe get a tea?”

“That’s perfectly fine. Natasha hasn’t ordered you yet, you can go tell her your order,” she says, words emphasized by her finger directing you to find the women fifth in line. An apology comes out as a whisper, feeling bad when you have to cut between two people holding a conversation.

“Hi,” you breathe, feeling nervous about being pushed to her warm body by those in line and others trying to move about.

“Breathe,” she says, pausing your sentence until she’s seen you visibly take a breath.

“Sorry,” you say, the unwarranted apology causing her eyebrows to furrow.

“Why sorry? You don’t have any reason to be.”

You say it again but she makes no pays if no mind, a gentle hand coming to rest under your forearm.

“Would you like something?“

The words you had spoken to wanda are repeated, asking about ordering a tea with another apology following right after. You fear she’s upset, but every movement she makes is kind, soft.

“You don’t have to apologize. Go wait with Wanda, I’ll bring it over once it’s made, okay?”

You thank her what feels like ten times, hoping each one is more sincere than the other before stepping away, mindful of the kicked up carpet. Wanda’s smiling at you, reaching over to push your chair out.

“Did you get a tea?”

“I did, thank you two—seriously—I appreciate this.”

Her response comes out as a hum, the words, ‘of course,’ mended together through the one sound, “how was your ride over? You mentioned the trip only being a few minutes, correct?”

“Usually yes.”

“Have you been here before then?”

“Not really, I don’t go out often. If I did I’d ruin my budget plan.”

The smell of the store is amplified once the cup is placed in front of you, the gentle steam floating off the top smelling exactly like the aroma in the small room. The seat to the right of you is pulled out, taken by Natasha a second later. Hers smells of coffee, a darker roast you’re familiar with from one of your roommates making it in the morning.

She picks through the sugars on the table, ignoring Wanda’s advice to leave the sweetness alone; Wanda mentions again how it impairs her dreams, giving her terrible nightmares instead. Natasha acknowledges what she says and still pours two in, her defense being the brand labeling itself as a ‘natural sugar’ as opposed to some other popular companies.

You turn to Wanda, “do you like to drink coffee or tea?”

“I do,” she says, fingers brushing under yours to stabilize the tilting hold you had on the cup, “every now and then I’ll get a tea.”

She quirks a quick smile, the mood fading fast once she’s turned her attention to Natasha and how bright the coffee has become. Natasha pulls the cup away from her extending grasp, bringing the cup to her lips with a grin.

“Do you work?”

“I do! I work in marketing at a real estate company, basically meaning I create pamphlets and design their websites. Do either of you have a job?”

Natasha keeps the mug in her hands, not letting go despite the heat, “we do. I work as a mechanical engineering, Wanda’s does corporate finances.”

You later worry about how your emotions are written on your sleeve seeing how they noticed the slightest change in your body language. Wanda lets her hand drift off of yours seeing as you’re now paying attention to how you’re holding it, “what do you do?”

“Nothing crazy like that. I sell art pieces, occasionally teach somewhere like an art class or work as a substitute for a school if needed.”

“Did you go to school for art?”

“I did, somehow passed to with how strict a few teachers were.”

They then ask to see a piece you’ve done, listening to every word you’re saying on every detail of each individual piece. You show ones you’ve sold, ones you’ve given as gifts to friends/family members, and some you’ve painted for yourself. You ease into the moment with every passing minute, tense muscles and fidgeting movements calming.

The room is small, but busy. A multitude of conversations being held in one place, all forming and coming together like the infamous background ambiance.

A watch on Wanda’s wrist catches light when she flicks her sleeve down to check the time, a deep sigh coming from her when she realizes it’s past 9:30PM, “it’s getting late.”

Natasha hums, grabbing your cups and stacking them to take to the dish bins nearby. You stand when she does, grabbing your coat to toss over your shoulders.

“We can walk you home if you’d like, it is quite dark out.”

You take a glance as well, the scarcity of light on the street enough for you to accept her help. The sidewalks are small, pushing you to walk so close to them you’ve stepped on Natasha’s shoes two times already. They keep close to you, sitting beside you in the subway ride. You’ve told them that you’re grateful they’ve offered to walk you back, but that you also feel bad for taking up their time. They keep reassuring you, every time gentle, if not gentler than the last.

The street becomes familiar again, the lights from your balcony coming into view. The little store building with the apartment complex above it, your little home. It’s never fully quiet, but at this minute in the hour it almost feels like it’s just the three of you. An occasional car, bike, and stranger may walk by, but you barely notice.

“Would you like to see my apartment?”

“I wouldn’t mind a tour,” wanda says, her words making you smile and excitedly being to unlock the door. It’s late enough that either your roommates are out or asleep, leaving you and them to walk into a silent space. It’s entirely too quick tour; only showing them your balcony, bedroom, living room, and kitchen while trying to be quiet for the one roommate trying to sleep.

Wanda calls your name, finding you in your bedroom after hearing where your voice came from and following it. Your room is reflectively dark, only light source coming from the dim lamp by your bed. The one you’ve been meaning to repair.

“How’re you feeling?”

“I’m good, a bit tired.”

“I mean about this.”

Your lips fall slightly ajar, taken a bit off guard. She’s not rushing you at all, leaning against your vanity. She’s even gone far enough to not make you even more nervous by moving her gaze anywhere but you.

“I—“ you freeze momentarily when you realize Natasha’s come to stand in your doorway, “I’d like to if that’s okay with you.”

“We’d love to. Later tonight I can send you some papers for you to look over whenever you feel ready.”

You nod, thanking them with a smile. They bid you goodnight, both mumbling sweet words about the night. They both pull you into them, wrapping their arms around you in a gentle embrace before pulling back. You’re inside with heating AC and yet when they pulled back you felt colder.

Once the doors shut, the rooms entirely too quiet, the silence emphasizing the emptiness of their disappearance. They already made an impression, their good nights making you feel twice elated. It shows in your night routine, a smile etched on your face from the night. How beautiful they are, how someone they wished to also see you again, how they were mindful and intentional.

You had gotten dressed, wrapped up in your sheets with your phone settled between you, scrolling through the sweet text they sent after and the documents. The first were fine, but the last few brought nerves to the surface. Explicit acts and suggestive themes filled the page, maybe half you’ve never heard of. They were reassuring though, stating that you’d all run through them together once finished. During the whole process they were helping to answer any questions or concerns you had until you were ready to print and fill it out. After a week and a half you make your relationship official.

— masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ taglist below₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part —

@simpforlizzie @maggieromanov @angelbeingatitspurest @cerberus-spectre @olicity-boo @huggingkoalas @wandasbunnyy @babykingslayer @marigoldenblooms @godhatesgoodgirls @evmaximoff @tobiaslut @lzzysfreak @caporaI-nino @mommysfavouritegirl

[spiderfunkz]

🍫 . spending christmas with natasha

snowball fights. matching hand warmers & socks. spending the afternoon watching christmas movies. making gifts for each other. gold heartshaped necklaces. natasha always wearing the knitted scarf you made for her. wine nights. gift giving in the avengers tower. cuddling when the two of you get cold. sharing exactly three blankets. marshmallows. peppermint candy. borrowing her sweaters and jackets. a love letter sneaked into your present. kisses full of love. reading by the fireplace.

"snowball fight!" natasha laughs as the snowball she threw hit directly to your arm, you gasp loudly at her. "oh you are so going to pay for that!"

[ilovenatasharomanoff2-0]

Nsfw twitter links.

warnings: Strap-ons, pussy eating, a little bondage, I think, fingering, squirting, cowgirl, spanking, dom! Nat, sub! reader, tit sucking, uhh yeah, I think that's it.

pairings: Natasha x fem reader

a/n: new years post! This was a really good year, and I'm so thankful for all of the support.

Natasha fucking you slowly with her strap in the morning.♡

Her taking her time with you.♡

Natasha fingering your cunt because she teased you all day.♡

Nat being so desperate to fuck your pussy♡

Natasha eating you out♡

Natasha fucking you in every way possible.♡

Having her way while you make dinner for the two of you♡

Her making you suck her strap.♡

Riding nat as she tries to control herself♡

Grinding on her lap during movie night.♡

Nat making you squirt and not stopping.♡

Pussy drunk Natasha.♡

Natasha fixated on your tits.♡

Soft Natasha telling you what to do.♡

Mean Natasha spanking you.♡

Definition of being Nat's 'passenger princess'.♡

Taking control over Natasha.♡

Natasha marking your tits.♡

[writing-house-of-m]

Falling for you

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha is in love with you and decides to tell you

A/N: I was so impressed with myself when I came up with the title lol The request can be found here. Comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

Prompt: "Oh, I'm falling in love."

"It was when I saw you giving flowers to Wanda once. I saw the gesture and it hit me like a ton of bricks. The way you looked at her. I wanted someone to look at me like that. I learned afterwards not 'someone,' I wanted you to look at me like that.

"It was as if my mind held up a queue card telling me how I felt about you. I realised, 'Oh, I'm falling in love,' but the more I thought about it the more I realised I've been in love with you for a while and I didn't know what to do."

Natasha started speaking after you made a joke about her playing hide and seek. Nobody knew where she was when you noticed her missing for a while and got curious where she might have been. She was looking out at the view motionless before you got there for you don't know how long.

You regret making your joke.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. Maybe because I'm sick of holding it all in.

"In the red room it was always 'love is just something used to brainwash childish minds', 'A chemical reaction, nothing more' and for the longest time I agreed. I have never experienced it before and didn't think I ever would…

"Until you."

She looks at you emotionally. It's the most vulnerable you have seen her. The 'Black Widow' on the verge of tears because of you,

"Natasha,"

And there is nothing you can say to make her feel better.

"I do love you, just not in the same way. I'm really sorry," you see in the way Natasha drops her head, the devastation she is feeling, "but my heart will always belong to Wanda."

She lets out a sad laugh, looking out at the setting sun in the horizon, orange and pink painting the sky, "Figures," she scoffs, "the person I fall for, already taken," she says, sniffling.

There are a few moments of tense silence before you decide to break it, in hopes to lighten the mood a little, "Well, if it's any consolation Wanda aspires to have your 'hot bod'," you jest, then raise your hands and eyebrows innocently, "her words, not mine."

It does make her laugh but shortly after, silence prevails and you both bask in it. You stay there in each others presence long after darkness takes over and white dots fill the night sky.

…

Shortly after your conversation on the roof you move out of the compound. It was something you and Wanda had been discussing anyway but you thought it would be easier for Natasha if you weren't there. To you it would have felt like you were rubbing your relationship in her face after her confession. But for Natasha, she missed seeing you everyday.

As always life continues, work takes over. Your time together is reduced to when you are assigned to the same missions. Natasha realises quickly her feelings for you will never falter. So she makes the most of the time she gets with you.

It doesn't take long for that to be taken from her as well.

…

Natasha felt your presence missing from this world. Prior to everything that happened, you hadn't been at the compound for the longest time but at least she knew you were out there and happy. But now? There was a gaping hole in the shape of you that was missing and it was unfair for everyone, not just herself.

It is why she makes the decision to go to Vormir.

The world is better with you in it.

Even if she won't be here to witness it.

As she is falling to her demise, the sound of wind rushing past her ears she closes her eyes to see your smiling face.

The memory of you stood on the rooftop trying to make her laugh. The picture can be compared to a piece of artwork with the way the warm setting sunlight hits off your skin and makes your eyes shine.

Natasha is glad to have such a picturesque image of you in her final seconds that she can find comfort in behind her eyelids.

Despite the cold climate and the circumstances her body is filled with warmth knowing she is the reason there is the possibility to bring you back. At least then you will have a chance at starting that family you and Wanda announced.

As that final image slips away along with her consciousness, Natasha thinks about the fact that even though she could never have you. You always had her.

[lovelyy-moonlight]

Scarlett Johansson's wrap speech on her last day of filming 'Avengers: Endgame'.

[wandascrush]

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