#natasha romanoff x wife!reader

[romanoffsbish]

Easy to Love

Natasha Romanoff x Pregnant!R

Natasha can’t get enough of her pregnant wife 😋🍽️ | WC: 2,958

Smut: Lactation | Oral (R)

18+ | Minors DNI

Natasha walked through the front door of your cottage with a heavy sigh, her body ached but she somehow managed to take a shower before she came to find her comfort. You were turned away from the door, putting away her laundry as you listened to your favorite song on repeat.

Your hips slightly swayed along, but there was a stiffness as you moved to indicate you were in back pain but persevering for her nonetheless.

——

The aching pain she felt faded into static as she waltzed up to aide you with yours, clearing her throat so as to not startle you with her touch alone. Her thumbs dug into the small dips in your back that made you fade into submission. She softly grinned against your neck as she felt the full lean of your body, and the vibrations of your moans against the imprint of her teeth.

Then she was back to the problems at hand, "What did the doctor say about resting detka?"

You hummed a playful tune, "That doesn't apply here my dearest one, because you see, I never tire of being your doting housewife."

"Pregnant housewife," Natasha pleads, and you sigh softly, "Who can do more than sit down, I promise you I'm not overdoing it my beloved."

Natasha's hot breath fluttered over the sensitive skin of your enlarged breasts and you felt her gently nod, she was waving her white flag, and then staking all of her green ones in your field of dandelions as she adjusted her stance, making your breath catch in your throat as you felt pure relief as your wife lifted up your baby bump. Holding up the boulder as if it weighed nothing and her muscles weren't already strained to the max as it was.

"Nattt," you went to weakly protest, worried about her own physical state, but she gently pecked your cheek and cut you off, "This is a partnership, so if you can take a load off of my back then so can I for you. Just relax honey."

Natasha chuckled as she saw her shirt crumble in a heap on the floor and heard your soft snoring only a few moments later. She knew it wouldn't last long, you'd likely wake with a start in seconds. So she cherished the moment and gazed down upon your smiling face, and admired the glow pregnancy gave to you.

"Let me see you," you grumbled tiredly, and she complied by lowering your bump, and holding you steady as you groaned in misery.

Then she stepped back to strip off her pjs, and you both gazed at the others exposed body. Worry filled yours as you took in all the nasty bruising overtaking her skin, but your wife saw the sidled relief when you let out a shaky breath as you saw she remained puncture free.

While you worried for her, she admired you.

Natasha knew it was borderline psychotic that all she could think about was how she wanted to have you spread open for her. Your bump was hanging low, layered with the stretched straps of your maternity panties and your nipples were covered by sticky nursing pads.

"You are so beautiful moya lyubov," Natasha coo'd as she looked you up and down, you rolled your eyes at her, but didn't try to refute knowing full well Natasha would argue back. The woman adored you just as you came, and would love to show you how much. You were the picture of undeniable beauty in her eyes, even if you didn't believe it, she'd show you.

Starting with moisturizing her face with your slick before she went to sleep, it'd been six days too many since she last had. You were apart of her post mission meal plan, and she's starved. She swore it's because you tasted different pregnant, not that you weren't heavenly before, but she just grew rather insatiable as of late.

"Detka," she purred and you quirked a brow knowingly. "Will you be gentle?" Natasha's darkened eyes softened, "Of course angel."

Natasha discarded her boxers, then she helped you out of your own before she guided you over to the luxury mattress. She surrounded your body with fluffy pillows, and used another more firm one to lift your hips. The redhead was at your side next, her eyes lovingly stared down into your own, then she kissed you dizzy.

Her hands caressed your breasts, and you cried out in perceived relief. The white nursing pads darkened and she obviously zeroed in on that, it was only seconds before she removed them and sucked one of your nipples into her mouth.

"Fuck," you groaned, hands flying to her hair to keep her pressed against you. Your supply was barely in, so the redhead only got a few pebbles but it was enough to drive her wild. "Mmm," her husky vibration was the cause of your increasingly dripping heat, the one she chose to explore while tending to your other breast.

Natasha's hand ventured beneath your panties to find a steaming goldmine of arousal, your pulsing entrance nearly abducted her curious fingers as she slid on by. Her curiosity was doubled, and just like that she was parting from your side with a breathless grin and an eager tongue. Natasha's hands caressed your thighs and you closed your eyes in anticipation.

You smiled more wholesomely instead as you felt her lips softly pressing onto your bump. It was a briefly repetitive gesture up until your heady scent called her lips home. Melodious moans that soon filled the room as Natasha's tongue entered you were just as glorious as the sloshing of your juices due to her lashing.

The redhead held no remorse as pleasurable tears soaked into the pillow beneath your head. Her only goal was the grand reward that came when you did, the warmth that gushed out of you and coated her throat always worth the wait, which as of late isn't long with just how sensitive you've become during pregnancy.

You were squirming, but the pillow that kept your hips raised left you unable to escape. Natasha loved every sound that left your body, whether it be the series of loud moans, or the more choked up mewls. It was all glorious, and ego-boosting enough for her to be satiated by your second orgasm that drenched her face.

"Nat," you croaked in a plea she'd already intended to answer. "I know moya lyubov'," she husked against the skin of your thigh as she was catching her breath and you hummed as her knuckles softly pressed into your sides.

The last thing she wanted was to hurt you or the growing infant, so she settled on gently massaging your bump as she continued to breathe in the sweet aroma of your cunt.

After a moment of calm the redhead slowly kissed her way up your body until she was hovering your face. "You okay?" You nodded with a dopey smile, and she met your lips with her very own after the adorable reassurance.

The kiss was sloppy, but sweet as she let you lead it, she relished in the way that you moaned at the taste of your very own essence. Then your stomach rumbled, and she was off.

"I'll be back in a minute, you need to eat too." You rolled your eyes at the innuendo, and as soon as she disappeared you wobbled off of the bed and returned to your previous task.

When the redhead reentered the room with a tray she groaned in frustration, "Detka, get back in bed, the clothes can wait for me until tomorrow." You sighed, "This was my load Nat, and you know I refuse to leave behind a mess."

"Please," she whined, and you knew then that she needed to care for you, and feel your warmth close by so that she could fall asleep.

"Fine," you sighed while dropping the folded shirt in your hand back into the bin, "Just this once I will leave a mess behind for cuddles."

Natasha rolled her eyes as she set the snacks down and once again you let her guide you into the bed, but you had already brushed away the pillow fortress so you could remain upright.

Natasha knew what you were doing, but after she made sure you were both fed she was truly too tired to intervene. Just the same as when you felt apprehensive intervening earlier.

There'd been no open wounds so you didn't push her to go to the compound. You never did, Cho and Bruce are only two blocks away, they owed you for their love, so they agreed to always be on call for her—or better yet you, Natasha was none the wiser to your intentions.

Your current ones were to read your book with your back against the hard headboard, and your lovers arm draped over your bump. Just like you always did after her missions. You watched the bruises on her body, eyes trained in on the shading to see if they're healing well, to ensure that her breaths remained even all night, and to hold her steady if she were to jolt.

It was the only way you could find peace, and you sometimes wondered if maybe she did know, but didn't want you to know she knew because then she couldn't enjoy the way in which you cared for her so freely. You knew it was true in the way she smiled at you every morning when you awoke just like this. Upper back slouched with a slipped book in your hand, and a sleepy-time scowl on your face.

Natasha first mirrored your scowl as she felt the guilt swimming inside of her chest. The budding of tears constricted her throat, and trapped her sobs. You'd woken up just as she jolted, but you protected her opportunity for absolute vulnerability. The redhead has cried in front of you before, but only sparingly.

The first time was after she spent an ungodly amount of hours drowning in you, and couldn't fathom how she'd been blessed to have you for the first of what quickly became many times. Natasha had lightly sobbed against your chest and you soothed her until she'd fallen asleep.

The second time was when you actually agreed to marry her after only being hers officially for six months. It was after a rough mission, one that nearly took her from you, and led her to drop down on her knees in a desperate plead.

The following day came with a cynical Tony's jokes about a whirlwind love story, but Natasha's eyes said this decision wasn't made on a whim. When you kissed her in front of your peers only weeks later, and tasted the salt of her flowing tears you knew it to be true.

Then the last time was when she held your pregnancy test after a long day, it was a beacon of hope when she'd just felt like giving up. The months of trying had finally paid off, you were carrying her child thanks to science, and she couldn't hold back her gratitude. She'd dropped to her knees and kissed the skin of your stomach, and you felt the tears soak into your jeans as you weren't even showing yet.

Each time she cried since she would shield her face, and muffle her sobs with husky grunts. You'd never called her out on it, you respected her need to feel like she was always tough, even if she knew you'd never consider feeling weak.

Her pridefulness was her own to manage.

You envision your daughter's arrival will be the first time she doesn't try to hide it. Because for the first time in her life she'll have someone she is responsible for molding into a functional human. That responsibility comes with the need to model healthy ways of emoting for her little girl to be well adjusted, and safe overall.

She knows better than most that those who end up the most vulnerable are the ones who didn't have the access to proper love and care. With the kind of parents that yelled, and harshly reprimanded their kids in the name of love instead of taught better with a gentle hand.

Natasha would do everything in her power, you know it, to keep your daughter safe from the world and its cruelest that prey on the loveless.

Your daughter will be loved without question.

Once you were able to hear Natasha's sobs had died down you began to stir, the book in your hand officially hit the ground, and the redhead peered up at you with that endearing smile. Her chin rested on your bump, and you bit your lip in awe at her beauty, you reached out and brushed the hair from her face. "Mornin'"

"Good morning moya lyubov'," she chuckled softly as she watched your body shiver in response to her deepened voice from sleep. All these years together and she still had you a swooning mess with an effortless rasp. There was just something so precious to her about these early mornings with you, it was as if nothing in the world could touch you two.

"Did you sleep well?" Natasha hummed a yes, and softly kissed the underside of your swollen belly, then she grinned as she felt a shockingly powerful kick. "Dobroye utro, printsessa."

"Nat, stop it, you two are absolute menaces together," you groaned, every morning without fail she would get your daughter riled up, and you would face the painful repercussions. All because you happily allowed her DNA to live within you do you now deal with warrior kicks.

"It can't be that bad," she teased, prepared for your snarky comment, but you only sucked in a harsh breath as your hand rubbed at your neck.

Natasha frowned, she only let you watch over her at night because she knew it grounded your anxieties, but the guilt she felt only increased whenever she'd see you wince like that. This time she couldn't let it slide, not when you were already dealing with pregnancy pains.

"You have to stop sleeping like this detka," Natasha scolded you softly as she sat up and moved herself directly behind you. "I'm okay Nat, really, I can't sleep until I know you are."

You felt a surge of guilt as your admittance made her body tense behind yours, but then you smiled as her lips pressed against the knots in your neck before her thumbs took over. It was heavenly, and your groans assured her of the magical hold she possessed over your body.

"That's why I turned in my resignation." Now it was you who tensed, defeating the purpose of her current massaging of your strained body. "Relax detka, stress isn't good for you two."

"I don't want you to giving up what you love Nat," you turned to face her, pout prominent enough for her to kiss it away with a soft smile. "What I love is you Y/N, and soon enough our little bundle of love will be here as well. The fight will go on without my aging body, my life is here now, with you, that's where my joy is."

Natasha pulled you in for a gentle kiss before guiding your face into the crook of her neck so that you could cry your relief out in the comfort of her warm embrace. "Let it all out krasivaya."

"How did I get so lucky with you?" Natasha shook her head, and ran her fingertips down the side of your face as she negated your sentiments. "I'm the lucky one here detka, I never deserved your love Y/N, but you gave it to me anyways and now I'll be blessed to wake up to it everyday until we're old and grey."

"You are insane," you scoffed and playfully nudged her shoulder. "I will never go grey!"

Natasha chuckled, "Oh yeah, silly me..."

"You are very silly," you doubled down, "No one is more deserving of kindness than you Natasha Romanoff, you've been through hell and back and kept a hold of your humanity."

Natasha's eyes welled with tears you couldn't see, yet again, but it was because you were too busy tracing circles over her racing heart as you spoke the sweetest words to ever grace her ears. "You are the easiest person I've ever had the fortune to love and I promise to remind you of that—even when you're old and grey."

You heard a sniffle, and immediately pulled back to see the red flush on your lovers raised cheeks. Her smile was brighter than anything you'd ever seen so naturally you mirrored it.

"I love you so much," she practically squealed as she pulled you in for a kiss that remained sweet for mere seconds before she slipped her tongue into your mouth and deepened it.

"Fuck detka, I can feel your wetness coating my thigh," she groaned, but then it didn't stop so she pulled back to see your widened eyes.

Natasha sprung into action. "I'll get the bag!"

"I'll finish the laundry," you echoed after and the redhead stared at you in bewilderment. "Detka! You can't be serious right now?!"

"Natalia, I will not bring our daughter into a messy home!" You harshly glared at her, and she swiftly made her over way to you, praying for your cooperation. "I'll call Wanda, you know she'll be glad to help. If we're lucky we'll even come home to her famous apple strudel."

"You're the smartest person I know," you squealed and pecked the redheads lips, then you winced as a contraction hit. "I hate you."

——

[togrowoldinv]

Natasha, to the team: I am absolutely not a sappy person

Natasha, when y/n is around: Do you even know how much I love you?

Y/n: How much, babe?

Natasha: I haven’t figured it out yet since I’m pretty sure the limit does not exist

[nataliasquote]

Midas Touch | n romanoff

Summary: no amount of money will ever save a broken marriage or a broken woman. But maybe the right person can turn everything she touches into gold and this time won’t be cursed to break everything she cares about.

Warnings: affair, cheating wife, forbidden love, small mention of physical abuse (a slap)

Pairings: maid!Natasha x wife!reader

wc: 7.1k 😬

Note: another AU? Why are we even surprised. But this idea fully goes to @katyaromanoffpetrova who does just fuel my need to write every AU possible. If you thought cowgirl Nat was hot… oh just you wait. Also the end got angsty, but you should learn to expect that with me now..

-⧗-

Being up before the sun wasn’t anything Natasha wasn’t used to. Even before she got this job, mornings were her favourite. The way the world looked when it was kissed by the watery sun that rose above the rooftops hours before anyone was awake to see it was one of life’s hidden gems.

And one of the many perks of being a live-in maid to one of the richest men in the America was the views from every window in the staggering mansion. The west side of the house overlooked the bustling city below, which was beautiful at night. But Natasha’s favourite was the east wing that revealed rolling countryside and the perfect place to watch the sunrise over the distant hills.

Her maid duties never started this early, but she didn’t mind being awake. It gave her a sense of peace before the mania of the day began. She wasn’t the only maid in the Barnes residence, but her task was slightly different than everyone else’s. She was Y/n Barnes’ maid and that in itself came with a whole host of other challenges.

Seven am was when her ‘day’ started, for the lady of the house was not an early riser. She usually wouldn’t be seen out of bed until at least nine, but on the days James left for work early, she would always see him off from the front door. And wherever Y/n was, Natasha was never far behind, lurking in the background with her hands clasped in front.

Y/n’s laugh was the first thing Natasha heard of her boss, before she was even seen. Her voice oozed wealth and that laugh practically dripped honey and diamonds as it echoed through the high ceilings of the stairwell. With her arm draped over her husband’s bicep, Y/n lingered on the last step, teasingly trying to tower over James’ muscular frame as he shrugged his suit jacket on.

He muttered something in her ear and Natasha watched as Y/n’s neutral expression suddenly switched to a cunning smile and her fingers fumbled with the small tie holding her feathered robe closed. The front fell open, revealing her nightwear beneath it and it was not hard to see the way James’ eyes fell to his wife’s cleavage for a couple of seconds.

These small moments cemented why they were the nation’s favourite couple, and also why Vogue was so insistent on featuring them on the cover. They were still so lovesick yet utterly perfect in a way that didn’t happen by chance. This level of perfection was almost nauseating.

Y/n stepped down off the bottom stair and looked up at James through her lashes, playing the innocent game despite being anything but.

“Goodbye, my love. Try not to murder anyone today,” she husked in her husband’s ear, draping her arms around his neck with a lazy smile. James’ hand fell to the small of her back and he pulled her into him, kissing her lips hastily.

“No promises. Be good.” Y/n was on her tip toes but hardly felt the coolness of the stone floor on her bare feet. She leaned her face into Bucky’s palm that had risen up to cup her cheek. Soft fingers straightened out the lapels of his pristine suit jacket almost habitually.

“No promises,” she mimicked with a smirk, her eyes sparkling playful up at her husband who was transfixed by her sultry gaze. She was truly a siren, luring him in with a simple glance and a smile. Her power didn’t come from her social status; it came from her. The kind that couldn’t be earned or bought, no matter how much money you had.

With another lingering kiss, James pulled away and reached for the drawer of car keys and selected from the collection of sports cars most could only fantasise about. His dark grey McLaren Senna was today’s pick and he tossed the key in his palm like it wasn’t part of a car costing close to a million dollars. His wealth really was astonishing.

Y/n watched him disappear out of the heavy iron front doors and pulled her robe tighter around her body, concealing the simple navy blue silk slip dress that hung delicately from her shoulders. Her robe matched in colour, of course, and the feathers adorning the trim and cuffs swayed as she wandered into the vast kitchen.

She was the typical rich housewife, but it didn’t look tacky on her. She suited this life. Her wrists, neck and fingers might as well have been crafted to be decked out in priceless jewels, her body to wear only the finest garments. Even just the way she moved oozed grace and elegance subconsciously. A sight for sore eyes.

“Natasha,” she called, knowing the redhead was only a few steps behind her. “I’d like my breakfast on the balcony today please.”

“Yes ma’am,” Natasha replied with a small nod of her head.

“Oh, and don’t bother bringing any of that apricot jam you brought yesterday. I only want strawberry, darling. Only strawberry.” She swept back out of the room in a flash of blue and Natasha scurried down to the kitchen to inform the chef.

Now, if it was anyone else, that pet name probably would have sent them reeling. But Y/n was extremely fond of using those names, so it was basically second nature to Natasha.

The breakfast tray was laden with food and beverages as Natasha brought it out onto the balcony. Y/n was relaxing in a chair, still in her nightwear and robe as she scowled over the newspaper in her hand.

“You know, I do find these world affairs awfully boring.” Y/n didn’t bother looking up from her newspaper as Natasha appeared with the tray. She frowned at the column she was reading before folding it away on the table. “I don’t suppose you read that kind of thing anyway.”

Natasha carefully set the coffee pot down on the table. “I try to keep up with what’s going on in the world. But not as often as I’d like.”

“Do you read the paper?”

“No, Ma’am.”

Y/n hummed. “You can have this one if you want. I don’t care for it and James only complains about the headlines. You’d make much better use of it, honey.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. I really appreciate it.”

“Natasha stop,” Y/n held her hand up, making Natasha freeze mid pour. “I’ve told you to call me Y/n. All this ‘ma’am is making me feel old!” Y/n sighed dramatically, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. “I’m not even thirty yet, don’t make me age faster.”

“I’m sorry, Ma-,” she faltered but caught herself quickly, “Y/n, it’s a force of habit.” It wasn’t so much of a habit than it just felt weird to say. This first name basis insinuated they were friends, not two people on drastically different pay grades.

“Well, luckily for you, habits were made to be broken.” There was a heavy intonation in her words, laced with hidden meaning but Natasha just busied herself with setting up the breakfast platter. Various fruits and pastries were laid out, despite Y/n always just picking at a few berries and a croissant. Natasha hung back near the french doors, admiring the scenery so she didn’t watch her boss as she ate.

Y/n slid her sunglasses back onto her nose and stood up to lean over the balcony, the gentle breeze blowing her open robe softly. “Did that package arrive yet? The one from the lingerie company?”

“Yes, it’s in your dressing room.”

“Perfect,” Y/n hummed, her eyes sparkling behind tinted lenses. “I’m going to go try it all on, I think. When you’ve taken the tray, join me, will you?”

Natasha faltered, trying not to look at the outline of her boss’s figure through the thin material of her robe. But with the sun shining through it, it was proving difficult to keep her eyes off the curve of her hips.

“Me?”

“Yes you, Natasha,” Y/n confirmed, smiling to herself. “Who else would I be talking to?”

“My apologises ma’am, I’ll take this right away.”

Y/n didn’t bother correcting Natasha that time, too busy gazing at the rolling landscape beneath her. She found comfort in nature, the way the breeze brushed over her skin and the sun kissed her cheeks making her melt slightly. It differed vastly from the heavy touch of James’ hands, ones she played through a heavy facade to enjoy.

Y/n’s dressing room was that of dreams, just like the rest of her house. But she barely noticed it anymore. Her gaze settled on a white box on the central dresser, smiling to herself. She enjoyed the luxuries of life, and that included lingerie too. She told everyone it was for James, but really it was for her.

She just wanted to feel good for herself.

But those damn feathered sleeves kept getting in the way, so she shrugged her robe off and let it pool on the floor around her feet. She barely noticed the cooler air on her exposed limbs, too busy pulling off the lid and moving the tissue paper aside to reveal the soft coloured lace and mesh, all pastel colours for spring.

Natasha rushed back upstairs as gracefully as she could, passing through the master bedroom to the dressing room at the end. The door was ajar so she knocked three times, as usual, before pushing it open. Her breathing faltered involuntarily.

Was it normal to have that kind of reaction after seeing her boss in nothing but a mini slip dress? There was so much skin and Natasha took a second to gather her thoughts before she announced her presence, keeping her eyes firmly away from the woman in front of her.

“Natasha I want your opinions on these, come here.” The redhead obeyed and joined her side, eyes widening at the items before her. “What do you think?”

This kind of underwear was probably worth Natasha’s entire salary and she was apprehensive to touch it. Her hands stayed by her sides but she tried look objectively, even if she could barely tell the difference between the sets.

“I like that one the best,” she murmured, pointing slightly to a soft pastel blue set. Y/n smiled and plucked it from the box, holding it in front of her.

“Me too, you’ve got good taste.” Y/n slipped one strap of her nightdress from her shoulder and Natasha immediately turned around, almost squeaking at the lack of warning. “You didn’t have to do that, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Except it was. Because this wasn’t just any woman’s body, it was her mistress’s and there was no way she would ever be able to erase the images burned in her mind.

“I’ll just,” she started, trying to fill the silence by picking up the discarded robe and hanging it on a hook to her right. She caught Y/n fiddling with the bra clasp on her back, the hooks not quite fitting together.

“I hate new clasps,” Y/n exclaimed through gritted teeth, the hooks slipping once again. “Natasha, would you-?”

‘Don’t look don’t look don’t look’ was all that ran through Natasha’s mind as she carefully fastened the bra. She ignored the way her fingertips brushed Y/n’s skin, this wasn’t the first time. She was her maid, for gods sake. But Y/n was usually adamant that she could get dressed by herself, so Natasha rarely found herself around her mistress in just her underwear.

With a muttered thank you, Y/n wandered over to the mirror, adjusting the way her boobs sat in the cups before admiring the set. It was perfect for spring, the baby blue mesh and complimenting white and yellow flowers sitting flush against her tanned skin. The way the material hugged her body rivalled that of a custom made piece and Y/n hummed, content with what she saw in the mirror.

“It looks- beautiful,” Natasha faltered, keeping her composure as best she could. “James will love it.”

Y/n chuckled in the mirror, her hair shaking across her back as she laughed. “You really believe I care what he thinks?”

Natasha’s brows creased. Was that not why Y/n had those underwear sets in the first place? The redhead was empathetic but she didn’t have a significant other, there was no time for that. So her judgement was skewed, and it showed.

“I thought-“

“That’s cute.”

Natasha stuttered. “I’m sorry?”

“You,” Y/n locked eyes with her in the mirror. “You’re cute. James doesn’t care about this kind of stuff, it’s all for me, darling.” She adjusted the strap of her bra and didn’t miss the way Natasha’s eyes followed her fingers. “And now you, I suppose?”

“No, I wasn’t-“

Y/n swivelled round, hands on her hips. “I’m teasing you, darling, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. Frown lines don’t look good on you.” She reached up and softly brushed her thumb between Natasha’s eyebrows, smoothing out the creases that had formed there. The redhead visibly freezed under her touch, the feeling lingering long after her fingers were removed.

“You’re a beautiful girl, Natasha. Who’s the lucky man in your life? Or lady?” Y/n’s eyes shifted, forgetting that she was still in her lingerie set. Natasha breathed out a laugh and darted her gaze to the floor, offering Y/n her robe again.

“I don’t have anyone,” she admitted, missing the look that crossed Y/n’s face. “I spend all my time here, I don’t need anyone.”

“Then I’m honoured to be the lucky lady. And lucky I am.” There was something so alluring about Natasha that Y/n had been hooked on since she laid eyes on her new maid a few months ago. Reserved at first, Natasha was exactly what Y/n needed after years of overbearing and intrusive maids. Natasha was a similar age and felt more like a friend than a maid.

With a confident air about her, Y/n tried on the rest of the lingerie, placing the ones she disliked back in the box with a sigh. Sticking with the blue theme, she slipped on a blue and white sundress, clasped a tennis bracelet around her wrist, slotted her sunglasses into her freshly combed hair and waltzed back onto the balcony. Natasha stayed behind, fumbling with the ribbon around the box before she handed it to the doorman who would organise the return.

The days when James was at work were usually slow and Natasha had some time for herself for a couple of hours whilst Y/n was occupied. Natasha took herself into the city in the late afternoon and ended up in the one store she had never set foot in before.

The lingerie store.

It was a privately owned boutique, of course it was, this neighbourhood didn’t do chain branches, and she quickly walked past the more provocative sets towards the tables at the back. A friendly store worker greeted her but Natasha just kept her head down, politely shaking it when asked if she wanted help.

She was out of her comfort zone, and painfully so, picking up a risky looking set before setting it down a little too quickly. A simple red lace bra caught her eye and she picked it up, only to glance at the price tag and lay it down gently. How could something like that cost so much? Natasha had seen heavier price tags than that of course, she spent her days around Y/n Barnes for god’s sake. But when shopping for herself, everything just seemed too expensive and far too lavish for a plain girl like her.

Natasha was anything but plain, yet she would never see it.

As she looked around the rest of the shop, her mind kept falling back to the red set. It was burned into her mind no matter how many other pieces she saw, and somehow Natasha found herself back at that table again, fingers fumbling over the delicate lace design.

She picked it up, a soft blushing rising to her cheeks at the thought of wearing something so… out there. But the phone in her pocket buzzed and she quickly grabbed it.

Mrs Barnes:

James has set up a date night. I need your help please :)

The red lace set was long forgotten, her mind shifting into work mode in an instant.

Just leaving now. I’ll be there.

When she returned, Natasha headed straight upstairs to find Y/n just leaving the bathroom. Her hair was still dripping and her skin damp, shining in the warm light of her dressing room.

Natasha got to work, drying and styling her hair almost on instinct, having done it so many times. Y/n thoroughly relaxed, adoring the way Natasha felt as she worked through her hair. She softly tugged her roots, but not enough to hurt. Just so it felt like a massage and her eyelids threatened to get heavy.

Date night outfits ranged from lavish to simple, and tonight was a simple night. A little black dress with a deceitful price tag was selected from the closet, a fan favourite of Y/n. She wriggled into the tight material, loving the way it hugged every part of her body as she pulled it up over her chest and slipped the thin straps over her shoulders.

“Where did you go today?” Y/n asked as Natasha zipped up the back of her dress, holding the fabric tight.

“Mostly just window shopping.”

At the mention of shopping, Y/n’s ears pricked up. She wasn’t just making conversation- she was invested. “Did you get anything nice?”

“Not really. Saw a couple of things but-“

“You know you can always take my card if you see something you like,” Y/n insisted, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress to straighten it out. “What store did you visit?”

“It wasn’t anything special.” Y/n shot her an unimpressed look over her shoulder. “I went to the lingerie boutique-“

“No you did not,” Y/n exclaimed, her jaw dropping in excitement as she turned around, clothes long forgotten. “And you didn’t get anything? Oh darling no, we are taking you back there tomorrow and getting you sorted out.”

Natasha moved over to the heels cupboard and selected a classic pair of black patent stilettos. She placed them in front of Y/n for her to slide her feet into, holding onto her hand for support.

“You’ve got that photoshoot tomorrow, so no, we won’t have time.”

Y/n paused, her dangling earring paused in mid air. “And you think they won’t reschedule if I ask them to?” Her brow raised in a ‘try me’ fashion.

“Y/n,” Natasha began to protest. “You don’t need to do that. It’s not like I need anything fancy like you anyway, it’s useless…” she trailed off, a pang in her chest triggering a wave of doubt to shudder down her body. “Vanity Faire won’t be too impressed if you cancel on them again.”

“If they want me, they’re going to have to work around it,” Y/n countered, silencing Natasha as she stalked over, slightly taller than the redhead thanks to her heels. “You are beautiful and you deserve to treat yourself like that. Everyone does, even James and he’s an asshole sometimes. So take this,” she reached into her bra and pulled out her black card, smirking at how Natasha’s brows shot up. “Take this and spoil yourself. I mean it, okay?”

“Thank you ma’am, I’m-“ Y/n almost plucked the card back out of her hand. “Y/n, thank you. You’re too kind to me.”

“Oh stop it, my ego is big enough already.”

The dressing room door flew open to reveal James, narrowed eyes as he stared at the proximity between the two women. Natasha took a couple of steps back but Y/n stayed put, clasping a bracelet around her wrist nonchalantly.

“Y/n, get out here,” he demanded, never one to speak any clearer than he had to. His wife rolled her eyes at Natasha but obeyed, sending her one final look over her shoulder before the door swung shut.

Now they were alone, James grabbed her wrist and shoved her against the wall, towering over her in the only way he knew how to display his power. The power he held over his wife, power that meant he could crush with a single fist if he wanted to.

“James,” Y/n grunted, wincing as his fingers dug into the tender flesh around her wrist. “What is wrong with you?”

“Flirting with the maids now, huh?” He growled, thick brows casting a shadow across his eyes menacingly. “I fire one, you move onto the next, is that how it is?”

“And what if I was?” Y/n baited, not flinching as his body trapped her between the wall and his torso. “Are you threatened? By that cute little thing in there?” She nodded her head in the direction of the dressing room where Natasha was before James gripped her jaw and pulled her face back to his.

“Don’t you dare.” But she did dare. She wasn’t sadistic, but the smile that curled the edge of her lips was downright crazy. But she knew how James was; they fought fire with fire, too stubborn to ever back down.

“Careful, James. Marks, remember?” His grip softened lightly. “Wouldn’t want the paps to spin a story now, would we?”

She saw how he wanted to retaliate, but also knew that she was right. He leaned closer before pulling away, huffing through his nose. “You’re so fucking lucky I love you,” he hissed before he let go of her jaw and allowed her to walk away. His job didn’t help his violent side but James had vowed since day one that he would never harm his wife. Y/n knew it too, and she pushed him to the very edge. Just daring him to.

“Weird way of showing it, but ok,” Y/n mumbled under her breath as she pushed the door closed and took a breath. Natasha averted her eyes, suddenly so busy with a hanger that had been placed backwards. Did she put it there on purpose? That’s not for anyone to know.

She’d seen the strained moments between the husband and wife but often kept her head down, not wanting to fall under James’ wrath. If she was invisible, it was better, but that was easier said than done with Natasha.

Y/n finished clasping her last few pieces of jewellery before accepting her fur shroud from Natasha. The redhead didn’t let on that she had heard every word said next door, but Y/n knew by the way she avoided eye contact that she had.

“You can have the night to yourself, darling,” Y/n winked, checking over her outfit in the mirror beside Natasha. “And you better buy yourself that set.” She gestured to the card in her maid’s pocket, insisting she used it. “I want proof that you did.”

“Thank you, really.”

Y/n blew an air kiss and disappeared to meet James, leaving Natasha once again alone. She felt the weight of the card in her pocket, seeming to grow heavier the more she thought about it. Y/n meant well, but could she really buy something like that with her mistress’ money?

Whilst Natasha debated with herself, Y/n had put on her ‘public’ face. The one that showed she was so madly in love with her husband, clinging onto his bicep as they moved from the car to the restaurant lobby. Paparazzi followed their every move, of course, and James’ bodyguard ushered the couple into the building as fast as he could.

Most celebrities hated the paps with a passion, but James loved them. He loved how much he manipulated them, and they snapped up pictures of the married couple like there was a drought. There was no doubt those pictures would be spattered across gossip sites by tomorrow morning, but that was only more free publicity for him. James Barnes never lost.

However, despite the perfect image they had carefully constructed, more often than not, date nights with James ended alone. He would excuse himself for a phone call just as the food arrived and Y/n could always see him in a private area of the balcony, phone pressed to his ear whilst his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. Y/n picked at her food in silence, washing every mouthful down with a sip of wine. She ignored the stares and whispers and just played her role to perfection, often sending worried glances out to James.

Tonight she had struck up a harmless conversation with one of the waiters, a young man with a far too eager smile. But she tolerated him for company, politely laughing as he tried to crack an admittedly horrible joke. He was surprisingly good company for the thirty minutes her husband had disappeared for. Although it didn’t help with how sad her situation looked. Y/n was nothing if not flirty, it was in her nature. The way she crossed her legs and looked up through her lashes with a sultry stare had every man, and woman, hooked.

Her siren tendencies didn’t end with her husband, and the waiter hovering by her table was drinking up the attention. It was a big deal for him, one of the hottest women giving up her time to talk to him. He was far too young for her, but Y/n humoured his attempts at flirting, twisting her shoulders so he had a good view from where he was standing. There was a fine line between hot and just plain sleazy, but Y/n would never cross it. She was too good at toying with people.

After a while, James came storming back in, his eyes darkening not only from the outcome of his phone call but also after seeing his wife laughing over another man. His judgement was clouded by anger and he grabbed his jacket, not even bothering to take a bite of his now-cold food. Y/n jumped at his sudden movements but smiled sweetly, thanking the waiter who had stiffened.

“Let’s go,” James growled, throwing down a wad of cash as a tip before storming towards the elevator. Y/n took a moment to gather her things before scurrying after him, her red bottomed shoes clicking loudly against the pristine floor.

“Is everything ok?” She dared to ask once the doors had closed. James looked up briefly, eyed the security camera and clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck shifting too.

“I work with imbeciles,” he grunted, his hand undoing the top button of his shirt in one fluid motion. “How was the food?”

“It was good,” Y/n stated, slightly wishing she could have finished her glass of wine.

“Good? I pay all this money and that’s the best you can do?” Bad phone calls always sent him into this mood, but Y/n had been with him long enough to know how to tame the tiger.

She stepped in front of him and ran her hands up the front of his sculpted chest, brushing over the muscle and up towards his shoulders. “It would have been better if you were there,” she spoke lowly, her hand sliding up to brush the stubble on his jaw.

James slid his hands around her waist possessively, pulling her flush against him. Anyone could walk in, the elevator wasn’t private, but they wouldn’t dare say anything to James Barnes. No one who confronted him ever walked away unharmed.

“Yeah? Even though you had your new little boy toy?” Oh he was jealous and Y/n had to tense every muscle in her body so she didn’t laugh. “I saw you.”

“You really think he had anything on you?” She asked sweetly, playing him just the way she knew. “I was just bored, baby, I missed you.”

“Damn right. I hope that fuckboy knows you’re mine, and mine only.”

“I’m yours, James, I’m yours.”

She was James’, so why did her mind drift to Natasha for a fleeting moment as she said it?

~~~

Y/n had dismissed Natasha for the night earlier than normal, letting her have the evening to herself before they went out. And she praised herself now, knowing James’ rage was just bottled up and sooner or later it would come out. She didn’t want her meek little redhead to have to see that.

And she was right. Whatever James had been feeling, he held it in until they were both nearly ready for bed. Y/n slid her rings off and placed them in the dish on her nightstand, each one clinking against the porcelain as she dropped it.

“What did you talk to him about?”

Y/n paused her movements for a second. “You’re still going on about that? I told you, it was just harmless conversation.”

“It didn’t look harmless, the way you were looking at him.”

Y/n was quite literally at the end of her tether with his accusations. “And how was that? How did I look at him?”

James rounded the bed, the single chain resting on his bare chest catching in the lamplight. “Like a slut.” His eye twitched, a sign he was pissed. “How do you think that looks for me? I step away for two seconds and my wife is whoring herself out to anyone she can find.”

“I find it laughable that you think you were away for two seconds,” she countered, stepping to the side to free herself from where he’d boxed her in. “May I remind you that I had finished my meal long before you even stepped foot back inside. He just came to talk to me and I engaged with the conversation, is that so bad?”

“Don’t use that tone with me,” James spat, his eyes following her figure as she paced around the room. “You shouldn’t-“

“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t talk? That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? A quiet little wife who only speaks when she’s spoken to and follows you around like a lost puppy.” James set his jaw, hands clenching by his sides. But Y/n carried on, spurred on by his accusations. “Well that’s not me James, and you know that!”

She paused and ran her fingers through her hair, exasperated. “How do you think it looks on you? You bring your wife out on a date but then can’t switch off from work for two minutes to actually enjoy your time with her! I’m saving your ass here, so be fucking grateful!”

That last sentence pushed him over the edge and James stormed over to her like a bull, backing her into a corner. “Grateful? Why should I be grateful? You’re a slut and-“

“Then treat me better and maybe I wouldn’t have to stray so far!”

James’ hand had connected with her cheek faster than either of them had time to process, his rings cutting into her skin painfully. They both froze. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, the sting of the slap blooming across her cheekbone. James was breathing hard, his hand still raised from the recoil.

An apology would come… wouldn’t it? It had to, he didn’t mean that. Y/n couldn’t move, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. Her stomach lurched, just urging James to say something. Anything.

A whole host of scenarios of how the next few moments might play out raced through Y/n’s mind, but she didn’t foresee her husband walking out without a word, a button up shirt in his hand.

She watched the door click shut before she sank to the floor, legs buckling beneath her. She didn’t want to cry, he wasn’t worth that, yet the tears still fell, dripping down into the carpet that pressed into her knees. It wasn’t from the pain, but from how stupid she felt.

Why was she still pretending? She played off everything he said to her, claiming it didn’t hurt when in reality it cut deep like a knife. Beneath her defences, she just wanted someone to care and not just because she was pretty. She wanted the slow mornings, the affection that wasn’t just for show. The ‘hey how was your day’ that wasn’t just one sided. But Y/n had sacrificed all of that the day she married James, naive enough to think he’d warm up over time.

The house felt eerily quiet and the blanket of night settled across every room. Ignoring how the clock chimed two, Y/n hauled herself up off the floor and trudged down to the kitchen, barely noticing the icy floor on her bare feet.

The freezer must hold ice packs or something similar, anything to stop bruising and swelling that always leads to questions. Y/n didn’t even bother to check if anyone was around before she pulled the door open and rummaged around, falling upon a bag of frozen peas. Not ideal, but it would do.

Except for the hum of appliances, the kitchen was silent and shadows appeared as the dim fridge light cast a small pool around her. No one was here at this hour, so Y/n dropped her guard and slumped her shoulders, leaning against the side of the fridge with exhaustion.

But she wasn’t alone.

A certain redhead had frozen in place, her spoonful of ice cream hovering somewhere between the pint and her mouth. Natasha was a midnight snacker and her feasts were usually undisturbed, but the sound of footsteps had her retreating into a corner.

It was only when she saw that familiar curtain of hair did she emerge, slowly, as if approaching a small animal, to not scare her off.

“Y/n?” Natasha emerged from the shadows, spoon still in her hand. Y/n did a double take but kept her face turned away, forcing her guard up in a split second.

But it was too slow for Natasha. She saw the vulnerability

“What are you doing down here?”

“I came to get a snack,” she replied with as much conviction as a toddler. Green eyes fell to the bag of peas… interesting snack choice.

“Why didn’t you call for me? I would have come myself.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Natasha.”

“Which is exactly my point, why aren’t you asleep-“

Y/n suddenly emerged from the corner and allowed the fridge light to hit her cheek. Natasha recoiled with a gasp, blinking quickly to wake her brain up. Was she hallucinating or was that what she thought it was? Y/n’s eyes were heavy and looked at the floor, too ashamed to watch Natasha’s reaction

“Did he…?”

The lack of response that followed was louder than a thousand words and Natasha felt her blood boil. She would happily be put away for battery if it meant she could get her hands on James, but she had more pressing matters to attend to.

Abandoning her spoon on the metal table with a clatter, Natasha hurried over and prised the bag of vegetables from Y/n’s hand. She wrapped them in a towel and gently pressed them to her cheek, muttering an apology as her mistress winced.

“What happened?”

Y/n chewed her lip, still avoiding eye contact. “Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Natasha nodded. “Ok,” she replied, respecting her wishes. You couldn’t push with Y/n, she had to come to you. “Here, sit up on there.” She helped Y/n hop onto the counter and her body instantly relaxed.

A comfortable silence fell between them both, somehow not affected by Y/n’s reluctance to talk. They never needed words, that’s what Y/n liked about Natasha so much. She was a comforting presence, and Y/n felt so at home around her.

With their faces so close, Y/n felt her chest warming at things she’d never noticed before. There were flecks of brown in Natasha’s clear green eyes, almost mirroring the freckles that danced faintly across her nose. The frown lines she had wiped away earlier were back and Y/n fought the urge to brush them away again.

After ten minutes, Natasha set the ice pack down on the side and helped Y/n down, the stone now digging into her butt uncomfortably. “Just let it rest for a bit before you ice it again. You don’t want to damage the skin.”

Y/n nodded, her face already numb. Their proximity was close but neither made an attempt to move. Natasha couldn’t keep her eyes off how red her cheek looked and Y/n desperately needed something to shut up the voices in her head.

Her eyes dropped down to Natasha’s lips, wanting to cry with how soft they looked. How gentle they’d feel on her skin, a stark contrast to the rough lips she was used to feeling dragging across her collarbones and neck. Natasha was soft and Y/n felt herself craving it.

“No, Y/n no.” Lost in her head, she’d failed to notice Natasha catching on, almost reading her mind. And as much as the redhead would love to reciprocate, it was inappropriate and not just because of her job.

Y/n leaned forwards, eyes glossy. “Please, Natasha-“

“You’re hurting, I won’t-“ Natasha shook her head, taking Y/n’s trembling hand in her own. She could make a pretty educated guess as to what had happened and did not want to be a part of Y/n’s inevitable. She pushed her own feelings down, stuffing them in a box and cramming the lid on tight.

But Y/n never made her life easy. She gripped Natasha’s hand, pulling it into her. “Please?”

“No, we can’t, you know that. And you’re my boss, Y/n-“

“Nat, I- I want you. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

The redhead faltered, watching the way her mistress’s chest heaved. Her head screamed at her to stop; it was so wrong. She couldn’t avoid the way her cheek burned red in the dim light, a stark contrast to the rest of her pale face. Never had she seen this much vulnerability in the woman who was full of wit and confidence.

The strength she was so used to seeing had completely disappeared and Y/n peered at her with tears on her waterline, her facade crumbling away with every second that ticked by.

Those seconds felt like an eternity before Natasha slowly reached her hand up.

But it was too soon.

Y/n flinched away, a tear escaping as she let out a whimper. Natasha quickly retreated her hand and let the woman before her turn back, not wanting to push her in any way.

“You’re safe,” Natasha whispered. Y/n’s eyes searched hers, trying to find any sign of a lie. But she came up empty. With a trembling hand, she reached for Natasha’s palm and allowed it to cup her other cheek. The touch was soft, warm, and everything she wasn’t used to. Even on instinct, Y/n couldn’t help but lean into it, eyelids fluttering closed for a split second before she forced them open.

“I’ve got you.”

Y/n glanced at Natasha’s lips and back up to her eyes. She needed to feel that warmth, she needed to kiss lips that didn’t curse her all day long.

“Natasha…”

The redhead couldn’t stop herself anymore and let Y/n lean forwards, connecting their lips in the most gentle kiss. Y/n tasted the sweet dessert on her lips as they moved against each other slowly, the hand on her cheek moving around to the back of her neck to hold her in place.

“Did you have ice cream?” Y/n mumbled against her lips, goosebumps lighting up her skin at Natasha’s touch.

“Maybe.”

The kiss wasn’t anything frantic or passionate, it couldn’t be. It was so featherlight that their lips barely touched, but the way Natasha’s blood felt like it was on fire was enough to convince her that they did touch. She let Y/n lead, moving their lips in tandem and fiddling with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

Y/n pulled away, a soft smile on her slightly swollen lips setting Natasha’s heart a flutter. The ache in her cheek was hardly noticeable in that moment; she was too fixated on the redhead in front of her.

She leaned in again, chasing that high she wasn’t ready to come down from yet. But Natasha gently pushed her back, shaking her head softly.

“Y/n, we can’t. We shouldn’t be doing this, you know that.” Y/n’s coping mechanisms were unhealthy to say the least, and as much as it pained her, Natasha couldn’t support that. Clarity had hit her like a ton of bricks and guilt settled in the bottom of her stomach, leaving a nasty taste in her mouth.

What were they doing?

Natasha’s heart shattered as she watched Y/n retreat into herself, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth slightly. Her eyes were glossy but the tears refused to spill over. Every muscle in her body was rigid, almost as if she was scared that if she moved, the dam would break and everything would come flooding out. Y/n may be good at a lot of things, but emotional confrontation was not one of those things.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She lingered for a moment, just willing Natasha to speak, to take back her words. Maybe if she closed her eyes, those lips would be on hers again. Their Midas touch, concealing the ache in her heart for a few fleeting moments was all she wanted.

But when Natasha stayed silent, Y/n turned and left, leaving the makeshift ice pack abandoned on the side. She couldn’t stay and let herself fall apart anymore. Her heart had broken twice that night, but why did it hurt so much worse now? Why did Natasha, her maid, have a stronger grip on it than her husband?

[lostremind]

Happy birthday to my wife

[verxn]

Dating Tony stark would include

Him spoiling you

“Damn I don’t know what dress to pick they’re all so pretty”

“Alright you heard her ring them all up”

You don’t like when he spends his money on you

“You should really stop with the pointless purchases..”

*him around the pool with a whole bunch of pool accessories you called cute*

“It’s my money I can spend it on whatever”

you having to drag him out of the office

“I just get so sick and tired of you not eating the food I slave over the stove to cook”

he eats the food just only when it gets really late

Listening to your talk about how annoying the people in the office can get

“Candice decided it would be great to take my damn idea for herself, but she was moving too fast she didn’t even hear what we were doing next” you laugh

Peter being you guys adopted son

“Peter!!! hi sweetie”

“hello Mrs. Stark!!!”

Him getting jealous that you’re showing more love to peter and not him

“Peter don’t you have a home to go back to?”

“Tony that isn’t nice”

You having to put him in check for his attitude

“What you got your period or something you more moody than me”

Him building you a suit

“I’m not wearing that..”

You wore the suit

He was so happy

Felt like a mom sending her daughter off to prom

“Alright turn around for me again I need to send this in the avengers group chat to show them my wife is better than theirs”

Him constantly bragging about you to Steve

“Yeah y/n is so wonderful I’m so glad I can wake up next to her every morning”

“You know she got a promotion the other day I’m so proud of her”

“Tony I really don’t think that’s necessary to the meet-“

“But yeah she’s the light of my life honestly”

You meeting the avengers for the first time

“Guys this is my wife y/n”

“Hello I made cookies!”

Them telling on Tony about how he won’t shut up about you

“Really…”

“What I was just saying the truth”

Him looking at you suffer doing or taking out your hair

You get to the last few braids

“You need help?”

“Tony what help can you give me there’s only 2 braids left”

“Yeesh my bad just trying to help”

[buckyysdoll]

๋࣭ ⭑ — 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐡𝐜𝐬 — ๋࣭ ⭑

જ⁀➴ — 18+ MDNI — summary: random little hcs for a few marvel characters, based on the title above — x f!reader —includes: bucky, steve, tony, natasha, wanda, mcu! peter parker; a/n: idk how i feel about this one?? mentions of dark! bucky + dark!steve, sexual innuendo, sort of hints at dark!natasha xx

MAIN MASTERLIST

જ⁀➴ — 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 — his jaw sets, eyes immediately harden on whoever you’re with. because of his past, and his own insecurities, jealousy comes so easy to him — he tries hard to hide it, doesn’t want to seem possessive of you, but the thoughts come and are hard to stop. the guy that won’t stop flirting with you must obviously have some kind of death wish, and you know that he’s gonna be more of the silent, brooding type — well, just cos it’s him <3 so, he’ll just keep a hand on you for the whole entire night, if he can — held at your waist, on your thigh, in your own; anywhere to show the world that you’re his <3

╰┈➤ — in other thoughts, dark!bucky will also stay silent for most of the night, but when you meet his eyes throughout you’ll see that look, and your stomach will flip. you’ll know without a doubt that you’ve now landed yourself in trouble, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t turn you on to think of what he’ll demand for it later <3

જ⁀➴ — 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 — i don’t really feel that he’d get that jealous with you, to be honest; or yes he would, but he’d be more casual about it — your communication has always been open. in general, he’s just secure enough in your relationship that he doesn’t feel too threatened by others, so he’ll just settle for an arm at your waist and try to talk with you, to join in your joy.

╰┈➤ — or, alternatively, hc for dark!steve — things turn out a little bit different. he’ll easily play along with whatever you’re doing, join in with your conversation; you’ll think that he’s fine, until you’re back at the compound and suddenly he’s not quite so chatty anymore. you’ll ask him what’s wrong; “was it something i did?” and he’ll just shoot you a look. slowly walk over, take your chin between thumb and forefinger and just say — “yes, it was” in that soft, deadly whisper that has your legs clenching on nothing, already.

જ⁀➴ — 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊 — is instantly catty. doesn’t even care how he shows it, either. tony’ll resort to his old, trusted coping mechanisms of sarcasm, arrogance, disdain; makes it quite plain just what he thinks of the presumptuous asshole at the bar. trust me when i say he will not try mincing his words — he’ll make it embarrassing when you’re only just talking to someone at one of his stark business functions. tony won’t stop grilling him, hiding his ire behind a tight lipped smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes — doesn’t know how to show what he’s actually feeling even when in an established relationship. the truth is just that he would much rather push you away — before you did it, first.

જ⁀➴ — 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐅𝐅 — shows her displeasure through the weapon she often does use — blatant sex appeal, beauty. she’ll seek out the first person she can flirt with, even if you’re just absently chatting; you have to know, in her cunning and conniving way, that two can play at this game. you know it’s a test though, judging by the way that her eyes are on you all the while, even as she toys with some random guy’s tie or lean’s close to whisper into a girl’s ear. all the while she’s gauging your reaction with each move that she makes, seeking the sweetness of your breaking point. filthy jealous sex will ensue <3

જ⁀➴ — 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅 — like bucky, is inwardly damning the bastard to hell, but will keep it contained. she’ll just lay her head on your shoulder as she stands close beside you while you’re talking to them, presses small kisses to the side of your neck, or your hand; subtle ways to reclaim your attention

જ⁀➴ — 𝐌𝐂𝐔! 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 — okay, this boy doesn’t have a dark bone in his body, and will just be inwardly wrecked. he really doesn’t want to feel jealous, he hates it; has no claim on who you can talk to. peter knows you have every single right to spend time with whoever, that the choice is just yours; and yet he still can’t ignore the slight pang in his chest as he watches your head tip back, as he sees how you laugh at something he hasn’t said — at the dickhead from one of your classes. he’ll try to blame it on just indigestion, anything, even as his throat constricts with something ugly. it’s an emotion that he doesn’t dare to quite define just yet, so will instead settle for seeing you happy in whatever form that takes. even so though, just like wanda, i see your soft boy doing subtle things for your attention — playing with your hair or laying his head in your lap, just so needy and sweet.

[natsarrownecklacx]

Heart Of The Sea

Natasha Romanoff x Wife Reader

Summary- Not all missions go according to plan. Even for the famous black widow and her equally skilled wife.

Word Count- 2,658

Warnings- Pure angst. Character death. Allusion to drowning. Beating. Sad Natasha. Betrayal.

Based on this thought

⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗

It was meant to be a simple recon mission. Just in and out. Easy. Something a rookie could have done alone. You were both meant to be back in time for dinner. Safe. In your warm, welcoming house.

You were supposed to order in your favorite take out. Sit with your wife on the couch, cuddle up under one big blanket and watch a movie. You were supposed to kiss her goodnight and tell her you love her, just as you have done every night since you two had gotten married.

But things don’t always go as planned. Sometimes, for whatever reason, nothing goes as planned. And one wrong step, one miscalculation, can throw your plan out a window.

This is something Natasha desperately wishes she had accounted for when planning out this mission. She should have double checked the intel, triple checked. But Fury said he’d handled everything and she’d believed him. She’d trusted him, because how could he be wrong?

Running through the halls of the Hydra ship Natasha thinks back to what she could have done differently. How she could have prevented this. What she could have done to keep you safe.

She should never have left your side. You're a trained, skilled agent, she knows that, but still. She shouldn’t have left you alone.

The two of you were on a stealth mission. Simple, just in and out before anyone realized you were even there, something the two of you were well accustomed to and could have honestly done with your eyes closed.

You were sent to secure the information you’d come to get while Natasha was meant to set a bomb in the lowest deck of the ship. Not one that would take the entire vessel down, just cause an explosion big enough to make a hole in the side of the ship. One that, from Tony’s exact calculations, would give you both thirty minutes to escape.

But something went wrong. There were more soldiers on board than you’d initially thought. What your intel showed as an empty, unused crew quarters held thirty Hydra agents inside. All of them armed and less than excited to see an avenger walk unannounced into their shared space.

You’d fought, of course you had, and you’d even taken about half of them down. But they just kept coming. For every man you knocked down, two more seemed to take his place. You're a well trained spy, top of your class according to your wife, though she may be biased. But even the best equipped spy can get worn down. You’d been caught, captured and brought to the third level of the ship, to what looked like a break room. Hydra agents hooked your arms around a pipe, cuffing them together. They all took their turn throwing punches and kicks your way, each one causing more pain then the last. But you refused to give them the satisfaction of crying out in pain no matter how much it hurt. So you keep your eyes cold and your lips shut tight, praying to whatever god was out there that either help would come soon or they’d just kill you.

A loud bang booms through the ship, the walls and floors shaking with the strength of it. You smile to yourself, even though it hurts to do so. Natasha, you think to yourself, she must have set off the bomb, which means she wasn't caught like you were. She’s safe.

The guards all turn to one another, sharing a look before running from the room. Not a second thought to you or what would happen to you if the ship went down.

When Natasha got to the meeting point you two had agreed on and saw you weren’t there she immediately knew something was wrong. She tried your coms, once, twice, a third time. Nothing. She’d began to panic, you should be here by now. You should have been there before her, which means something must have gone wrong.

Natasha instinctively reaches for the trackers hidden in her gear belt, one that has a direct link to your own. Ones which were given to you both as wedding presents from Tony, they man saying something about always being able to find each other. At the time Natasha silently cursed the man, his meaningful gift causing tears to well in her eyes for the fifth time that day. Now though, she couldn’t be more grateful for the man and his gift.

Quickly, Natasha pulled out her tracker, using it to single your own to help her find you. She waits a few agonizing seconds as the tracer does its work. The only thing Natasha can hear is her heart beat and the beeping of the device in her hand as it goes to work looking for its counterpart. The second the machine stops beeping she takes off running in your direction, praying to whatever god was out there that she would get to you in time.

Continuing on her sprint to find you Natasha takes note of the rising level of water around her. It’s up to her ankles now, meaning it’s rising fast. It’s been fifteen minutes since she set off that bomb. The watch on her wrist counting down the minutes she has until complete submerge causes her heart rate to rise. She needs to get you out of here. She needs to get you both out of here. There’s people counting on you both. She can’t let them down. She can’t lose you.

Luckily, because of the rising water, there are no hydra agents on this level. Meaning Natasha can sprint toward you with no distraction. Save for the rising water, which is now half way up her calf, effectively slowing her down.

The creaking and groaning of the ship make for unsettling background noises as Natasha rounds the last corner leading to the room you occupy. She reaches for the door handle, twisting to open it but it doesn’t budge. “Y/n.” She yells out, throwing her full body weight against the door.

“I’m in here!” You yell back, panic clear in your voice as the water rises to knee level. “Natasha, I’m in here!”

Natasha continues to throw herself at the door. The added pressure of the water on the other side makes it difficult for her to burst through. But after her seventh try she manages to do it. She enters the room, her eyes searching for you frantically as she ignores the burning pain in her shoulder from ramming the door.

“Natasha.” You breathe out, drawing the redhead's eyes toward you. Relief is clear in your eyes as you take her in. She looks panicked, like she’s running on pure adrenaline. But damn you can’t help but think she looks so pretty.

Natasha’s heart breaks at the sight of you. There's blood running down the side of your head and from your nose. Your bottom lip is split open and you've clearly sustained an injury to the ribs. “I’m here. I’m here, hunny.” Natasha says, making her way toward you. As soon as she reaches you she brings her hands to gently cup your face, her eyes welling with tears at the sight of you. Natasha brings her lips to rest on yours for a brief, gentle kiss. “I’m here.” She mumbles, leaning her forehead against yours.

You allow yourself a minute to feel safe in your wife's presence, her body against your own acting as a form of pain relief, even if just for a second.

But then a rush of cold water wafts against your lower thighs, pulling you back to the present. You can’t help but laugh at yours and Natasha’s behavior. You know you're both only acting this way because you're relieved she found you, alive, but still. There is a bit of a time issue at play. “And I’m so glad you are darling but we really need to get a move on.”

Your words click Natasha back into the matter at hand. The quickly rising water, sinking ship and the cuffs which currently make it impossible for you to leave the room. “Right.”

Natasha frantically looks around the room for something to break open the cuffs with. A key, a hammer, an ax, anything that would set you free. But she doesn’t find anything. Not a single thing that could release you from the cuffs and the water has now risen nearly to the top of your thighs.

“Natasha.” You say, the shake in your voice making the spy stop what she’s doing to look at you. “I’m scared.” You say, the tears in her eyes making her realize just how real this all is.

There’s a very real possibility she won’t get you out of here.

“No. Okay. None of that. I’m getting you out of this. We’re both going home.” Without a second thought Natasha turns back to what she was doing before. This time scouring under the waterline for anything that could have fallen.

You take a second to look around you. The quickly rising water, now lapping around your waist, the rush of the ocean coming through the open door to the room. The sounds of the ship sinking fill your ears, hydra agents screaming orders at one another and the ship itself groaning in protest. Then your eyes land on your wife, your beautiful wife, doing everything she can to find a way for you both to get out of this alive. You allow yourself a second to move your eyes over her, to burn the image of her green eyes and red hair into your memory. You take a deep breath, willing yourself to be brave as you speak your next words. “Natasha stop.”

“No.” She bites back, refusing to stop her search. There had to be something she could do. Something she could use to help. She couldn’t just leave you here.

“Natasha stop.” You say, this time with more conviction, as much as you could muster with the fear raging inside of you as the freezing cold water bit at the skin of your hips through your combat suit.

“NO!”

“Natalia Alianovna Romanoff. Stop what you're doing and look at me. Right now.”

Hearing her full true name fall from your lips makes Natasha stop. You rarely ever call her by her full, true name, so she knows whatever you're about to say is important. Turning to look at you, Natasha holds tears in her eyes, shaking her head lightly as she walks toward you.

“You need to leave.” You say, pleading with your eyes for the assassin to listen to you. “Please Natasha, you need to go.”

Natasha takes another step toward you, closing the distance between you two. Tears gather in her eyes as she takes your face in her hands, holding you with so much care. “No. I’m not leaving you here okay. Not happening.”

The ship creaks and groans loudly. Water rushes in the door at a quicker rate.The cold water rushes around your bodies making you both shiver as you stare into the others eyes.

“Natasha, I’m not getting out of here. But you need to. I need you to go.”

Natasha shakes her head insistently, tears streaming down her face as she answers. “No. No! I need you. I need you, damn it, you're my wife, y/n. I can’t do this without you okay.” Natasha reasons with you, her words coming out fast.

“And I need you to live, Natasha. I need you to go live a big, beautiful life like the one I know you deserve.” Natasha shakes her head, insisting that the life she wants to live is with you and she doesn’t know how to live without you. That she can’t, she doesn’t want to. But then you say the one thing that could actually get Natasha out of the room. “Yelena can’t lose us both, Tasha.”

You're right. She hates it, hates that you always are, hates that she can’t think of a reason as to why her sister would be okay. That she would survive the loss of you both. But Natasha knows her sister, knows that that loss of her sister and best friend would destroy the blond.

So instead of fighting you Natasha brings your foreheads back together, her lips grazing over yours as she speaks. “I love you, y/n.” She mumbles through her tears. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you too, Natalia.” You answer, tears of your own slipping down your cheeks.

Leaning forward you press your lips against Natasha’s. The kiss lasts for a full thirty seconds, with you ingraining the feeling of her lips against yours in your memory. Natasha wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you flush against her body, willing herself to never forget your warmth, your love, the feel of you in her arms.

You pull your lips away from your wife, breaking this kiss. Tears stream from your eyes as you stare into hers. “You need to go, love.”

“Baby-”

“Shhhh. This isn’t your fault okay. It’s not anyone's fault. Just go. I love you, but you need to go.”

Nodding her head in acceptance, Natasha takes one last look at you, bringing her lips to yours for one last kiss before turning and making her way out of the room not looking back because she knows that if she did she wouldn’t leave.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

It’s not until she gets back to the compound does she let the weight of what's happened settle on her shoulders. You're gone, her wife, her comfort, her home. Gone.

Natasha runs into the compound, searching its halls until she finds Fury in a meeting with her best friend, sister and the rest of the team. She bursts through the doors with little thought to her actions or what they can cause.

“You.” She seths, looking at Fury with eyes filled with rage. If looks could kill, the man would be dead on the floor. Every pair of eyes in the room turn to her, confusion and concern written clearly on all of them. But she ignores them, her sights set on the man at fault for your death.

“Natasha?” Yelena asks, standing from her chair worriedly. “What’s wrong? Where's y/n?” The look in her sister's eyes tells Yelena all she needs to know. Her sister in law is dead. Her best friend, gone. The pain in her chest comes strong and fast, the realization that she’s lost you hitting her hard. But she puts it aside for the moment in favor of taking care of her sister.

“You did this.” Natasha shouts, crossing the room in four long strides, standing in front of Fury, her first drawn back ready to land a punch to the man's chest. “You took her from me.” Natasha screams, pounding on the man's chest, sobs escaping her throat as she continues to shout at the man. “It's your fault I'm not holding her right now. Your fault!”

The team watches on in shock, each and every one of them absorbing the pain and loss radiating from Natasha in waves. “You have one job, how could you give us such outdated information? How could you? I love her and she's gone and it's your fault.”

It's not until two shield ages burst through the door that the team clicks back into themselves. Steve and Tony stand to keep the agents back. Clint and Yelena go to Natasha, taking the sobbing woman in their arms and leading her from the room.

The room empties, everyone leaving in silence except for Fury and Agent Hill. Once everyone is gone the brunette turns to the man at her side, a look of regret on her face. “Sir-”

“Not a word, Agent Hill.” Fury orders, his voice leaving no room for argument. “It had to be done.”

⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗

A/n - I got no apologies that can make up for this. I do have at least another two parts panned if that helps at all

@tigerlillyruiz

[neonovember]

steve rogers as a husband headcanon!

things about husband!steve that just makes sense

steve isn’t big on pda, thinks affection should be something private, he’s old school like that, there are some exceptions however, some very fun ones

even though he might be abit of an aversion to pda, steve will make sure that you know he’s just there

whether it be holding your hand, or his palm guiding you through a big crowd, he always feels a need to keep you at arms length.

steve is extremely protective of you..like bordering on possessiveness. he’ll even go as far are ignoring his own morals to make it sure, that people know his yours. It’s just that you’re the one thing that ever really grounds him back to earth, in moments where he gets lost in time and memories from before

“Hey I’m just saying, if you ever get bored of popsicle here, the iron suit is ready for you” Tony smirks, his legs perched against the coffee table. The Avengers are scattered around the tower's living room, half drunk and the other half trying to. You feel Steve’s grip on your waist tighten, and from the corner of your eye, you notice his orbs turning a ink-black. He leans across to Tony, whispering into his ear, the words falling out of his mouth like wine and into Tony. Tony’s eyes bludge comically, his throat bops as he swallows, nodding along to whatever Steve was saying, looking at you. Steve smiles, into his ear, it’s eerie, the way his canines glint under the high ceiling lights. You wish to the gods that you were given Bucky’s hearing but without a second, as if you had dreamt it in front of you, Steve is back beside you, only this time you feel his fingers slip between your thighs.

for some reason, I don’t get the whole “Steve being a horrible cook” trope, I genuinely think he’s an amazing cook and BAKER! that man can bake a mean batch of cookies

steve loves loves loves, calling you mrs rogers, or his wife. the first time he said it was well before you both uttered your vows, he just knew. oh and if you call him your husband? poor man will probably be hard for the rest of the day

steve has a breeding kink. we all know this, it’s practically attached to his file along with super soldier. but what most people don’t know is that he fucking lovess when you’re pregnant, it’s like senses go on overdrive until all he breathes, thinks and eats ;) is you.

steve has this fear of abandonment, mostly because he was, by his own country for a century. It seeps into his relationships, you’ll see if when he comes home from long missions and it’s as if he’s walking on eggs shells. His shoulders are tense and his holding his breath as if he’s just waiting to find the house bare and empty and your belongings gone. He gets really sensitive then, all murmurs and soft kisses and just holding you to remind himself you’re here.

there will absolutely be a time where steve fucks over the kitchen sink. the dirty dishes left abandoned (should I write this?)

steve can get a little anxious, and so his wedding band is something he’ll ALWAYS play with, he’ll twist its around his finger as a kind of reminder.

you love to tease him by bringing him lunch at the compound, wearing one of those sun dresses he adores because it gets him so. fucking. hard. He wont ever tell you though, just have to deal with it until he can get home, and by then you already panty less and on your knees waiting for him.

steve will probably force you to train with him, even if you can kick ass, he’ll pull a fitzgerald and force those trainers on you. poor boy is just scared that something will happen to you when his not there, plus, seeing you fight kinda turns him on. (just like anything else you do really)

Steve’s really bad at technology, we all know this, but he absolutely will try to learn how to use a phone so he can send you texts and updates throughout the day. he’ll take random pics of tony and sam when their not looking, take some Facebook mom ass selfies, take pictures of things he wants to draw and ask you if they’d look nice, he’s mind just constantly finds it’s way to you

cockwarming with husband!steve. that’s it

you help steve open up to the new things in this century, take him out to help him ease himself into the real world. people forget he never really got that chance, he died in one war only to be pushed into another.

it’s through you that steve learns that he’s obsessed with avocado. on toast, in milkshakes, everything, he’d literally a millennial

when things get too much, you’ll draw a bath and the both of you will just sit in the steaming water filled with some bubbles, candles illuminating the room instead of lights, and the ceiling to floor windows open. skin to skin helps steve calm his nerves, and it’s not abnormal for you both to stay in that position for hours

steve still gets shy around you, no matter how many years he’s been with you, he’s still that boy from brooklyn with a heart too big for him

steve has absolutely zero self control when it comes to you, say something nice about a necklace you see passing by? It’s on your neck the next day. Hears the sound of a slight rumble in your stomach? Steve’s whipping out his apron and making you eat something

steve is the type of man to never let you go to bed angry, even if you’ve both had a fight and he ends up on the coach it won’t be too long before you both find yourselves in the middle of the hallway missing each others touch

“babygirl, honey, my wife, doll, gorgeous”

you take priority over a lot of things in Steve’s mind, he’s never ever late to dinner, he’d rather lose his leg than disappoint you

sundays are for sex and sleeping

steve fucked you one time really hard over a drawer or ottoman and BROKE IT. now he’ll spend saturdays carpenting reinforced drawers, counters and bed frames ;)

makeup sex, and face and thigh riding <3

steve always feels as if he’s leaving a part of himself at home or with you whenever he leaves, he’s constantly watching the clock and bouncing that leg of his to get back to you.

steve would probably let bucky watch him fuck you..maybe.

even though I believe steve would be really possessive I also think he could easily be very private about his relationship with you. like that scene in aou where we meet Clint’s family? fury will probably drive up to some big cabin house with the avengers in the back and they’d be confused af when they open the door to find steve and you cooking in the kitchen with your kids running around the place.

“How much longer Fury, my backs starting to ache with this stiff as seat and Bucky’s feet in my face” groans Sam, leaning away from Bucky’s towering figure. “It should be around the corner” motions Fury, and just as promised the avengers pull into an expansive cabin house, elegant with is softened wood and timber gate ribboning around the land that seemed to stretch endlessly. When Fury had told them that he needed to grab something, they didn’t think it would end up with corny 70’s tunes cranking out throughout the car, one and a half hours from the city.

“This looks…lived in” Nat remarks, her fingers brushing against her holister, ears perked for any signs of human activity.

“Yeah, Fury, are you having us raid some lumberjacks generational home” Tony barks, stretching out his arms

“Just shut up and follow me” Fury sighs, before stepping through the gate and following the stone path. Wiping his boots across the mat, his reaches for the door, opening into the hallway of the strange home.

“Wipe your shoes, she hates when you trek mud in” Fury calls before walking in as if he owned the place

“She?” Thor whispers, what they all but Bucky thought. They followed unspeaking down the hallway leading to an open floor, the scene infront of them had their mouths hanging.

There Steve, their stone faces leader, fucking sautéing onions on large brimstone stove, laughter falling from his lips as you whispered into his neck. You were a sight to see, a dress falling onto your body like silk, cascading againts your curves, your hair was in an updo, curls draining your face and a bright smiling lighting up your eyes.

You were absolutely gorgeous, and to see Steve react to your affection in such a way told them you were more than just an old friend

“Bucky!” You smiles, reaching for the dark haired man, squeezing him in a tight hug.

“Hey sweet girl” Bucky smiles, gripping you.

Sam looked towards Bucky in disbelief, eyes shooting bullets at Steve in mock betrayal

“Really? You’re going to tell the ex murderer about your little secret life but not your saviour?” Sam mutters, before steve laughs gripping his chest.

“Sam meet my wife, doll now you know why I don’t let them near you” Steve whispers into your ear, making you giggle.

Sam reaches for your hand but you ignore it, going for a hug. “Oomf, hello to you too” Sam laughs hugging you back

“Hey Fury” You smile, waving a hand towards the man who nods in return.

“You all must be Natasha, Thor, Clint and Tony?, it’s so great to finally meet you” You speak, dimples pressed into your cheek

Clint seems to be the only one who snaps out of the rest of the avengers stupor, “I see you’ve pulled a Barton” He jokes, hugging you.

Once the rest of them finally greet you, along with some condescending remarks from Tony about “how the hell did you land her?!” The avengers sit around the table, drinking beer and eating good food and getting used to seeing Steve with his wife on his lap.

that’s all I have for steve at the moment, I’ll probably add way more later but I haven’t been uploading in ages and thought this would a quick little head canon for our spark spangled soldier!

p.s! requests are always open ;)

[drghostwrite]

You’re Not Alone…

Okay so I was gonna wait to write the Natasha x reader but I saw a quote and it made me think of her so here it is

Quote: “she looked my demons in the eye and smiled, she fell for the very thing I thought she’d fear”

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary: Natasha and Y/N fell for each other but what happens when your past comes back to haunt you, can she handle it or will it break what you worked so hard to build. Also sticking with the female super soldier storyline.

******************************************************** Your heart was beating fast, your breathing heavy, but you kept running. Every muscle in your body screamed for you to stop, to give up but you couldn’t, branches and thorns pulled at your clothing, ripping through your skin, the gash in your side oozed blood as you ran. You watched as bullets embedded in the trees around you sending wood splintering into your path, you ducked and then jumped a log continuing to run, you turned back seeing the lights coming and before you turned around you stepped over the ledge sending you tumbling down the hill, you laid at the bottom feeling the blood running, you willed your muscles to move to get up, anything, but they stayed put.

“Over here!” You heard one yell. You heard boots crunching the leaves and branches, you squinted as a light was shined in your eyes, one of the other female agents squatted down next to you.

“Oh sweetheart, you really thought you could get away, after Rogers and Barnes we know what to expect and love you might be twice as strong as them but we planned for that.” She held you by the collar of your jacket and studied the disdain and pain in your eyes. “Looks like the Huntress isn’t as good as she thought.” She chuckled and you let out a sob.

“Don’t worry love this won’t hurt too much, or maybe it will who knows.” You watched unflinching, unable to move as her fist came across your face, everything blacked out as she knocked you out cold.

You shot up into a sitting position on the bed the blankets falling around you, your grey ribbed tank showed off the cold sweats and your heavy breathing. You jumped as Natasha reached a hand up running it soothingly up and down your back.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing it was just a dream.”

“Another one?” She asked concerned, this wasn’t the first time you’ve woken up in a panic and most times it was the same dream, the female scientist from hydra and you weren’t ever able to escape.

Natasha sat up leaning on you, she wrapped an arm around your back and laid the other across you lap placing a kiss to your neck and then placing her chin on your shoulder. You sat there and sobbed, “Nat I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what baby?”

“The dreams, the sleepless nights, I need closure and you don’t deserve this, you deserve to be loved and spend your days being loved not here like this.”

“Y/N.”

“No you don’t deserve someone like me all this trauma I carry, you’ve had to go through enough on your own.”

“Y/N Romanoff, look at me,” she looked into your reddened eyes and tear stained face with a gentle forgiving smile, “if I ever would’ve second guessed your love for me or that this would work I never would’ve asked you to marry me, I knew I wasn’t just marrying the smart, witty, funny and drop dead gorgeous super soldier, I know a lot of what Bucky went through and even what I went through, I understood that there would be things there but never once did that scare me.”

You looked back into her eyes as she pulled you into a kiss her hand gently on your cheek, her thumb swiping away tears. “I want you to remember who put that ring on your finger.”

“Natasha,” you said leaning your forehead on hers and letting the tears fall. “What did I do to deserve a woman like you.”

“Baby, you deserve so much more than just me.” You pulled her into another kiss, there was nothing behind it no alterior motives, no cheesy or sexy intent, just love, pure love.

You laid back down and she wrapped herself around you, she made sure that you felt secure and that’s how you fell asleep laying in the arms of the woman you love.

You woke up in the morning to light leaking through the windows but Natasha wasnt sleeping next to you, you got up and did your morning routine and when you went to grab your coffee before heading out to train the recruits you found a note on to the coffee pot.

Hey beautiful good morning, I’m gonna be working with some of the recruits today but I was hoping that maybe we could meet in your office later around dinner.

You smiled and grabbed your things, after a tiring day you made your way down to your office, it was actually really spacious and you had it decorated, pictures of the avengers hung on the wall of you with various other friends (Wanda, Tony & Peter, Steve & Bucky), some classes of recruits that you helped train and there were a ton of pictures of you and Natasha with friends, or even the two of you, found around you desk. You heard a knock on you door and watched as your wife slipped in a case file tucked under her arm, you stood and greeted her with a quick kiss to the lips.

“So how’d today go?” You asked her, as you both sat down together on you couch, she propped her legs over your lap.

“Well these recruits were feeling testy today.”

“I’m sure you gave them hell though.”

“Oh you better believe it.” You both laughed, she never tolerated disrespect especially if it was someone inexperienced and that didn’t know what they were doing.

“I also did some digging.”she motioned to the case file she had.

“Oh?” She handed you the file and you accepted flipping open the first page, you stopped breathing a knot forming in your throat, you looked at the picture clipped on the front page, it was the female hydra scientist from your dream.

“Natasha, what is this?”you looked at her for an explanation.

“I went back through some old case files from hydra and found this, your name is mentioned or at least your alias of the huntress. Turns out that is doctor Quinn Alexander she was known for engineering and even won awards, after she went missing though and turns out she’s the one who created your formula, the first person to make a female super soldier, she made you twice as strong as Steve and Bucky essentially making you a super, super soldier. Her research showed that her main purpose was to see if she could A. Create you and B. To see if she could breed you with another soldier creating a superhuman race, but it didn’t work because Bucky escaped and then she was killed... I thought you might need some more closure so it’s all right there in that file whether you want it or not.”

“Nat thank you, thank you so much, you have no idea what this means to me.”

“Baby I know exactly what this means, I didn’t have someone to do that for me and I had to go through it alone. But you’re not alone, I’m here to help you fight these demons even if that means sleepless nights.”

Tears rolled down both of your cheeks and you leaned forward kissing her, that was the moment you knew you made the right choice you had married the right one. She was never going to let you fight alone and you will do the same for her.

[romanoffsbish]

Carved With Love

Natasha Romanoff x Wife!R

Yelena Belova x Fem!R (The true love story 🥹)

Yelena’s in town for the holiday season, and who would she be if not wreaking havoc? | WC: 1,986

Warnings: Mentions of Neglectful Past | Siblings

Yelena was a menace; you knew that from the insight your wife gave you before she introduced you to her.

“Y/N, she literally blew herself up and said it was fun,” your wife had reiterated her stance, that being: Yelena was a complete and total maniac. “Sounds like she’d fit right in with you and your band of superheroes,” was all you’d said back while adding pasta to your cart.

The two of you had been together for nearly a decade when they found each other again, and though the blonde was wary of a meeting she quickly agreed after hearing that the two of you were married with kids.

——

You couldn't really blame her for wanting to meet them more, especially your daughter, the eldest, who shared a name with her. They clicked instantly. Then there were your sons that you carried back to back, Andrei and Aleksander, who were bonded like twins. It was like they gained a triplet with their aunt. Then there’s the latest, Flora, who was just turning six months old and who was absolutely in love with the blonde.

The group were nothing but trouble, you adored that.

When you met her, your heart had doubled in size as you realized she was just trying to forget, to be a kid. Something you knew she never got to be, so just like with your own children, you let her get away with it all.

Natasha didn't much appreciate that, well, truthfully she adored just how much you already loved her sister. But, she was a bit jealous that you were so lenient with her, even if she knew you weren’t with her because she needed the structure and redirection you provided her.

As of right now, she thought you were also insane, "Detka, I don't think you thought this through..." Natasha mumbled against your temple from behind, where she stood with you securely in her arms, and you shook your head and softly chuckled. "It's fine baby."

Natasha currently feared for everyone's safety as her sister held one of those little orange carving knives.

"Oh my gosh, Y/N Romanoff, look!" Yelena shrieked, and your wife sighed when she felt your body relax. There was no hope left, you were at her sister's mercy. Yelena held up a stencil and you smiled. "It's cute."

"No, it is badass!" Yelena corrected, only to be met with a glare from her sister. "Watch your language."

"Natasha," you scolded instantaneously, "Lighten up."

"But she —," Natasha went to defend her decisions but quickly cut herself off when you turned with a glare.

Everyone got away with murder, except Natasha. (Well, in this symbolic context that is…)

Yelena smiled smugly at her sister, she even stuck her tongue out to mock her as you weren't looking. The redhead flipped her off, and your daughter gasped. "Mama! That's the bad finger!" Your eyes widened. "Natasha! What are you now? Some sort of hypocrite?"

"Predateli'," Natasha grumbled, making your daughter laugh alongside her aunt who was taping the ghost cat on a zombie dog's head stencil to her large pumpkin.

(Traitors)

"You all behave," you scolded the entire room before leaving to the kitchen to collect the cookies. Natasha tried to follow you, like a hurt puppy, but you made her stay behind to make sure nobody had a carving crisis. 

Which was in vain because when you came back in the room you found Yelena had upgraded to your sharp carving knife, and you nearly dropped your plate.

"Yelena honey, that's too dangerous," you practically shrieked, but not really to avoid her hand slipping. Not that you didn't have faith in her trained hands, but you knew accidents could happen regardless of skillsets. The blonde pouted up at you, and Natasha watched you once again melt into her little sister's charm.

"I can't use the little orange one," she pleaded for your understanding, "It is too tiny and ineffective."

"Okay," you folded instantly and your wife's eyes widened with flashes of shock and betrayal. The one time Natasha had done the same thing years back, before your kids, you'd given her a safety lesson.

“This isn’t fair,” she grumbled to herself, but she also let it go when she saw you sitting with her sister, eyes focused in on the way she carved the pumpkin and mouth at the ready to give her advice or a light scold.

Natasha let her festering resentments go, and shortly after joined you all at the table so that the youngest member of the house could play with the guts. It was a perfect moment of domesticated bliss, and the redhead couldn’t help but to feel at peace in current company.

Then the following morning came, and you learned a few things. Yelena had a new favorite holiday, and in turn a hobby, carving, which piggybacked right off of her other, bugging her older sister as if it was her job.

"Natasha," you tried to calm her, your hands on her tense shoulder as you kept her from lunging at the blonde. "You need to calm down my love, I can..."

"No!" Natasha cut you off, "She will do it, not you."

"She's our guest," you reminder her, but she merely rolled her eyes—something she never did towards you. "More like a pest, Y/N/N, make her leave before I do."

Your eyes narrowed fast, and your wife cowered at the sheer intensity. "Apologize to her, right now Natalia."

The redhead held back a scoff. Yelena had carved a face only a mother could love into her favorite fall leather jacket, yet she was the one who had to apologize here.

"I'm sorry, parshivets," she begrudgingly spat at the grinning blonde across the room. "I accept, cyka."

(Brat / Bitch)

You sighed, and regretfully turned to face the smug blonde. This was partially your fault too for having let the girl get away with murder up until this point.

"Yelena, now it's your turn." Yelena frowned, but then she nodded and relaxed her features. "Sorry sestra," her tone was genuine, "I will buy you another one."

"No, you don't have to," you let the girl off the hook. "Yes she does." Natasha rebuked your words in a flash, then she intelligently rephrased, "No you don't."

You smirked and rewarded her with a kiss that she tried to melt into, but once again Yelena interrupted with a rumbling stomach. "Can we make pancakes?"

Natasha's hands harshly gripped your hips, and you smiled at her in understanding, she missed you. "How about you go get the kids up while we make breakfast?"

The redhead reluctantly let you go with a nod, but before she got too far you pulled her in for another kiss. "I'll be all yours soon, just have some patience."

Yelena was leaving after the holiday's event, and the kids were going to Wanda's for a spooky sleepover. You'd planned accordingly, and your wife smirked at the reminder, chastely pecked your lips then ran up the stairs with a reinvigorated pep in her once glum step.

"Get the chocolate chips," you instructed your sous chef, and she did so with a smile. Yelena was learning to cook from you, you never outright said it, but you worried about her eating habits. All she could make was mac and cheese and that was artery clogging if not met with a balance of other things besides takeout.

Yelena appreciated your concern, it was clear to her that you were the perfect match for Natasha, because you were an even better platonic match for her. The way you let her just be who she was, who she was discovering herself to be with her newfound freedom, meant the absolute world to her. You were a light that she found comfort in, and would never let go of.

Once you showed Yelena how to make the batter you let her ladle it onto the griddle. "Don't flip it yet," you instructed, your back was turned but you were aware of her piqued curiosity and she was enamored by your spy like skills. "You're like a super mom or something."

"It's nice to see my skillset is appreciated," you teased the younger girl as you returned to her side and gently bumped her hip. "I appreciate all of you, sestra."

It took you a second to reel in your emotions, you'd only been hoping that she wouldn't hate you, but it turned out that she actually liked you, and you didn't want to cry and make her reevaluate that judgement.

Instead you settled on hugging her shoulders, giving her a gentle shake as you showed her the indicators for flipping before finally letting her flip the pancake.

Just as you settled a pancake on the plate you heard an obnoxious scraping on the glass. "What the—." There before you was a focused blonde, the tip of her tongue rested on her lower lip as she carved your perfectly round pancake into a ghost cat. You shook your head with a fond smile, "You really love knives, don't you?" Yelena mirrored your expression and nodded as she now carved an eye into a pumpkin. "They are so cool."

"Natasha loves her guns the same." Yelena flinched, "Guns are too rigid, and loud. Knives are fun, you can do flip tricks with them and they're just as lethal."

You noted her clear discomfort with firearms, and filed it away in your mind as a later topic of discussion, and fortunately the kids came barreling into the kitchen. Yelena dropped the knife and, just like every morning, she greeted the little boys with the tickle monster.

Then came your daughter’s greeting, “Yelena Belova!"

Yelena then followed her lead, “Yelena Romanoff!"

You shook your head at their antics, then you returned to your task at hand, and began to set the table. You placed the blondes masterpieces in their designated spots, a pumpkin for each boy, the cat for her parrot, and the torn to bits pieces went to the toothless baby.

You were gifted two perfectly sized hearts, topped with fruit and whipped cream. Natasha got zero change to the shape, but instead, she was gifted icing words.

“I’m not eating that,” Natasha growled, and you bit back a laugh as you saw the script. “What’s it say?”

Natasha shook her head at you, and glared in her sister’s direction as you attempted to read the Russian out loud, “Tvoya zhena lyubit menya bol'she.”

(Your wife loves me more)

“Damn right,” Yelena teased as she sat in front of her own pancake, “Don’t worry sestra, she loves you too.”

“You two, knock it off and eat your breakfast,” your mom voice came out, and everyone was suddenly sat. You nibbled on your food while making sure your baby didn’t choke on hers as she gobbled it down like a cat (Liho and Bob) being fed at the normal time everyday.

Once breakfast was finished you sent the kids to the living room with their aunt to watch cartoons while you and your wife cleaned up the mess left behind.

As you were packing up the fruit you felt two arms snake around your waist, and a kiss placed on your neck that you instantly melted into. You felt her smirk but ignored her smugness as you lazily cleaned up.

"You're spoiling her," Natasha groaned, you shrugged and turned around to face her with a genuine smile. "I'm just giving her the same chances I did you."

Natasha frowned, "I hope it's not exactly the same."

"That’s disgusting!" Yelena groaned from the couch and you giggled into your wife's shoulder. Avoiding the question in your kids eyes, and leaving Natasha to answer it. The redhead smirked, throwing her sister a wink before she completely pulled you out of the room.

Two could play at this game…

—

[lllivia]

You have a little drool on your chin

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Can be read as gn!reader

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°★.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°★.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Staring at you pumping the heavy weights inside the training studio Wanda felt like she couldn't move, transfixed by the sight of your lean sweating body.

"Pretty sure I can see a bit of drool on your chin Maximoff, might wanna stop being so obvious"

Tony says as he walked by not even looking up from his phone.

Wanda glared at him, waiting till he was out of sight before wiping quickly at her chin noticing it was nothing there.

"Goddammit Stark"

She scowled lowly.

"YOU KNOW I CAN SEE YOU RIGHT, THIS ISN'T A TWO WAY MIRROR!"

And that's when Wanda took her que to leave, wide eyed and blushing furiously.

💗 Masterlist 💗

[coffeeandbatboys]

Bad Timing (Matt Murdock x Private Investigator!Wife)

This is Part one of the "Playing With Fire" series.

Summary: You are framed for the murder of a hitman, by one annoying Wilson Fisk. Matt has to do everything he can to clear your name.

Warnings: mentions of murder, angst, pregnancy, interrogation, arrest, crying.

I was listening to you are the reason while writing this so here you go.

There goes my mind racing, and you are the reason, that I'm still breathing, I'm hopeless now. You are the Reason\Calum Scott

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were a private investigator. You knew you’d get arrested at some point. But for something you didn’t do? Last thing you expected. 

You glared at Detective Johnson, who you’d never heard of before. 

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Mrs. Murdock, we know about your past connections to S.H.E.I.L.D., and your…work, with agent Barton during the blip. You’re a far cry from innocent.”

“I didn’t do any killing with Barton.”

“Then what exactly did you do with him?”

“I was hired to find him. He wasn’t in his right mind. It took agent Romanoff to pick him up anyways.”

“Either way, ma’am, your fingerprints were found on the murder weapon and it’s registered in your name.”

“I want a lawyer.”

You relaxed at the sound of Matt’s cane tapping down the hallway, stopping at the door of the interrogation room. It opened, revealing your lawyer, and husband.  

“So, wanna tell me how you ended up in here?” He asked, making his way to the table. 

“A hitman was found murdered and it was my gun. The one that I reported stolen last month.”

Matt took a sharp breath. You both thought it was only a routine mugging, followed by your gun being taken. 

“They want to put me in solitary confinement. They deemed me a ‘threat’.”

“Why would they call you a threat?”

“There was one client-agent Romanoff? She asked me to look into finding agent Barton during the blip, and….I did. But he wouldn’t come back.”

“So just because you looked into him, you’re a threat?”

“Because I was affiliated with two ex-assassins. They’re going off of weak evidence, Matt. We both know who’s behind this.”

“Fisk wants you off his back.”

“Baby, I trust you with this case, and I love you, but I think the Murdock name carries bad luck.”

“Yeah I know-“

“Matthew” you sat up straight, taking a breath. “I’m pregnant.”

He stopped, eyes darting around beneath his glasses. “Do they know?” He motioned towards the door. 

“They do now if they’re watching us.”

Matt took your hand and brushed a thumb over your knuckles, tensing as he heard your panicked heartbeat. 

-------------------

“What do you mean?! You’re-you’re not actually charging her are you?”

“I’m sorry Mr. Murdock, but the evidence is pointing to-“

“Weak evidence.”

“We’re putting her in solitary confinement until trial.”

You looked up at Matt with wide eyes. You knew you’d be safe from Fisk for now, but that meant you couldn’t see your husband until trial. You’d never been apart from him for more than a week, and even then you spoke on the phone. He made a small, hopeless noise, hearing your heart race. 

“Give me a moment with her, please.” He asked, voice cracking. 

“Of course.” Johnson left the room, leaving you and Matt to say goodbye. 

He could smell the salt in the air. 

“Sweetheart please….don’t cry.”

“What am I gonna do without you…”

“You’ve got a part of me. Hold onto that until I can get you out of this and I promise I will.” He reached up for your face, brushing your tears away before placing a hand on your stomach. Letting out a strangled cry, your lips met his for one last time. 

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[lovebugspots]

THE PAINKILLER

Play either Painkiller by Judas Priest, of Death. Your choice, not mine.

THE PAINKILLER SERIES IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER CHAPTER FOUR: spider-man. CHAPTER THREE; wedding day. CHAPTER TWO; your too flattering. CHAPTER ONE: THE PAINKILLER THE PAINKILLER: INFORMATION

TW: Torture, SA, gore. take care of ya self :)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Painkiller will take your pain...HAIL HYDRA."

The man who was on his deathbed chanted as he sipped away from life slowly, and agonizingly. The EX-HYDRA asset sighed, lowering his pistol and sheathing it. His delicate, and intricate Titanium arm gleaming in the light as it had blood soaking into his clothes, and splattered on his prosthetic. 

"Painkiller, huh." He mumbled and walked away from the corpse, the blood oozing out of his stomach as his intestines and organs were spilled on the floor. He again sighed, and walked out of the now not so safe safe house.  The sound of his quiet footsteps, echoes in the quiet and compacted area.

He was currently in Norway for what was supposed to be a quick and easy mission with Sam. But, as life goes for the one and only Winter Soldier, it went sideways and he had gotten sniped. Not fun. Not fun at all.

He looked around, his steel blue eyes scanning everywhere he now went due to the HYDRA sniper being on the lose.

And after him.

He looked at all the possible ways and spots the sniper could be in. Nothing.

Tried hearing any sort of feet movement, due to enhanced he heard everything. Including the several times Steve was balls deep in Natasha, not the best thing to fall asleep to.

Not fun, not fun at all.

Then he heard a bullet ring, straight to his head. He quickly dodged and flipped around.

Nothing.

Another bullet, from the same spot, but he saw nothing. No person perched.

"Who the hell are you?!" He yelled out, grabbing his pistol as he looked at the trees, and the beautiful country side of Norway. His deep voice ringing in the quiet nothingness. 

Nothing.

Another bullet and he used his metal arm to deflect it. His breathing hitched and he seethed out when another bullet got lodged into his thigh, slowing him down to get the perfect head shot. 

'Okay maybe this sniper knows what their doing.' 

He thought to himself as he tried dodging the never ending bullets, with his thick, and scarlet red blood seeping through his blue jeans. He quickly got up, ignoring the fiery pain that shot up into his back, the pain was almost unbearable.

'Better then falling off a train.'

He didn't get any time to think as he ran, his hair going with the wind as he did so, he heard footsteps, but they sounded like a kitten...

So tiny and quiet.

But it wasn't a tiny kitten, rather, a full grown woman. She wore similar clothes to Bucky. The clothes he wore as the Winter Soldier, only difference is that she had bother arms covered, and what looked like gloves with two metal bumps with holes in them.

He flipped around and pulled his pistol and shot her in the head.

It didn't faze her, she took her right hand, and with her index, thumb and middle finger she pulled the bullet out an threw it to the side. Her forehead immediately healed its self, her skin knitting with one another.

From her knuckles, unsheathed two long, and sharp metal spikes. 

His heart sank, his face pales and he ran as quickly as he could, but she just stood there, the two metal spikes gleaming in the sun as she stood there. He didn't see her face once due to the heavy duty mask and goggles.

But that power. He knew one, and one person only with that power. 

The woman stood there, glaring at the man. Once he ran away from her visible sight, she sheathed her adamantium spikes and walked away to her motorcycle. She hopping on and quickly put the key in the ignition and started the bike up.

'I knew him' 

She thought to herself as she started driving the beautiful dark black Harley-Davidson motorcycle. The wind pushed on her Y/H/C locks, the braid she once had was now messy, full of leaves and twigs. 

'I knew him but I don't know how.'

Her mind was mush. Pure, and utter mush. Nothing, she knew nothing and remembered nothing.

Well, nothing besides her little boy. The so she was forced to have, but loves to much to leave. She quietly drove back to the dingy, and tiny house she was forced to live in, one that was directly above an underground base.

One where her every movement was seen.

She got off her bike once she got to the old house and she walked inside, three HYDRA Agents, and two Weapon X scientists.

"Did you kill the Winter Soldier?" One of the Russian HYDRA agents questioned, his accent thick, rough and gritty.

"No."

"You know what this means, Painkiller." He grins sadistically and looked over at her sons room and back at her, motioning for the two agents and one of the scientists to grab him.

"We take our prized Weapon X-33 and test him." He ordered, his smile only growing as Y/N eyes widen, she knew this better than anyone.

"No!-" She started but was cut off by her sons screams in pain, and the sound of his tiny body being dragged. "Please! I'll do anything! Don't hurt him!" She screamed out as the men sedate her son.

"But that isn't fun, is it?" the agent chuckles and walked over to Y/N and puts his grimy, and bloodied hand on her cheek. The blood was dried up and crusted onto his hand.

"Oh my little puppet.  So weak and submissive, huh?" He said huskily and pressed a ginger kiss on her forehead them grabbed her waist roughly, his dark and evil eyes glistening with pleasure as he did such heinous thing. His dark hair was dirtied with blood, dirt and god knows whatever else.

"Will you be a good girl for master and let us take your son?" He asked, licking the shell of her ear. She could smell the sweat, blood and somehow there was piss on him. All she did, was say frozen and he hungrily kissed her.

He knew she would do nothing.

If she does something her son will be dead.

She can't lose her little boy.

His harsh, chapped and bloodied lips hungrily kissed her, his tongue slipping past her lips and licking her teeth, and savoring her sweet, sweet taste.

He pulled away and pat her head as they open the cellar and dragged her now drugged son into the underground base. One they were inside they locked the door, the door was laced with vibranium, the only other weakness to her adamantium spikes.

She stood there, frozen as she heard them wake up her son. The whips cracking, the metal scraping on her sons delicate skin that didn't have any scars. 

Having both her and his fathers healing factor.

But her boy didn't cry or scream. At the bright age of 5 he knows that if he does, he will feed into their hunger. So he sucked it up, he has to be strong for his mama, no matter what. 

She just stood there, her face pale as she waited for her boy. Tears streaming down her face, but no sobs scratched at her throat. Just tears. She finally moved after an hour and sat down on the old couch. Waiting. 

The most dangerous woman, sitting there crying.

[lostremind]

Can't stop thinking of waking up from a nap to find Natasha and your kids, joyfully dancing in the rain outside. You watch, unnoticed, from the window as Natasha, barefoot and carefree, twirls with the children, their laughter blending with the sound of raindrops.

[verxn]

Wrong day :>

Description: short and sweet 🫶🏾

Pairing: Tony Stark x Black fem reader

Note: hey….how my lovelies doing 💕

-

“Okay okay okay” I muttered to myself while getting things from around my closet. You may be wondering, y/n what the hell are you doing? I’m so glad you asked, I’m late packing!!!

*insert a reaction pic with tears and a thumbs up*

Yeah, so fun!!! Packing up at 1am when your flight leaves at 5am whew!!

Please tell me you understand my great great sarcasm, anyway, I’m just doing last minute packing since Tony said we were apparently going somewhere and decided to tell me last minute.

I sighed and looked down at the now fully packed suit case, now this is where the hard part comes in…closing the suit case….I cracked my knuckles one by one and started to do that “losing up” thing people do before lifting up something heavy (???)

I closed my suitcase and started to zip it up, at first, it wasn’t so bad, then it started to get a bit…challenging.

I grunted softly and put my knee on top of the suit case so I can close it easier. At first it worked then it had to be that ONE part where it gets stuck

“Oh fuck me” I said clearly annoyed. I then proceeded to sit my black ass on the suit case and started to zip it up once again. When I tell you it finally closed, thank god.

I did a little happy dance and picked up the suitcase, the bring it downstairs near the front door, as I was walking downstairs, I noticed it was quiet, too quiet

‘hm’ I thought to myself while sitting the black suitcase near the front door of our home. I started to walk near Tony’s little “man cave” and it was quiet?

It’s a little shocker because he always has music playing in the background, either because he’s working on something or he’s searching up new formulas etc etc

I walked down the stairs and typed in the code to get in, I walked near his working area and saw him hunched over the desk. I lightly tapped his shoulder, to see if he was alive….obviously

“hey Tony” I said softly while tapping him continuously, he grunted a bit and looked up at me tiredly. “Hm” he said groggily “why aren’t you packed up I thought we were going somewhere?” I replied

He gave me a confused look and answered “we are…but that’s not until Thursday…?” “It’s ….not Thursday?” I said confusedly with my hand resting on my hip

He shook his head “no honey, it’s Wednesday” he pointed to his computer and put his head down once again. I gave him the side eye look

Cause how you gonna wake me up, just for me to pack thinking our flight was gonna be at 5am today, when it’s really tomorrow. Sighing I shook him awake once again

“Tony get up and get in that bed” I said to him while walking away and scratching my head through the bonnet

I heard him getting up from behind me and before I made it to the door, he came up from behind while wrapping his arms around my hips, while his chin rests on my shoulder

“Alright now we can go” he replied in a sleepy voice, I chuckled softly and started to walk out from his little man cave and into our shared bedroom

-

[togrowoldinv]

Tomorrow is Natasha’s birthday… so be on the lookout for a fic 😌