Natasha X Reader - Blog Posts

welcome to my safehouse

genre guide:

angst – ( ¤ )

fluff – ( ♡ )

hurt/comfort – ( ☆ )

smut – ( ♤ )

romantic ship – ( r )

platonic ship – ( p )

song fic – ( ♧ )

disclaimer: all of my writings will accommodate to black audiences unless requested otherwise. meaning that i write with a black person in mind, if that makes sense. if this bothers you then idk what to tell you. it's hard to find black!reader fics anywhere so i'm trying to add to one's that are there.

*masterlist still under construction*

MARVEL

natasha romanoff [ black widow ]

"thank you for your cooperation."

series:

have mercy | black!oc — on hold

summary: The Avengers need her help. Jaslyn Wilson doesn't want to, though. Will the help of a certain redheaded avenger draw her out?

oneshots:

sam wilson [ falcon/captain america ]

"on your left."

series:

the stars write back | black!oc

summary: Entries between lovers that follow their story from beginning to end. Read along as the two tangles together and play tug of war with the stars.

love of my life [5/20/22] ( ¤ )

oneshots:

set me free | black!reader [1/16/24] ( p ) ( ☆ )

summary: it is said that your skin will regenerate itself approximately every 27 days. although, that may be true... it's been two years. why doesn't it feel like it?

michelle jones [ mj watson ]

"if you expect disappointment, then you can never really get disappointed."

series:

oneshots:

wash day | black!reader [ coming soon ]

Have Mercy | natasha romanoff x black!fem!oc

Chapter Two: why not me?

warning(s): contains flashbacks of past traumatic events

pairing(s): sam wilson x jaslyn wilson (oc)

natasha romanoff x jaslyn wilson (oc)

a/n: this chapter is just a short flashback and stuff. next chapter is about her time in hydra & meeting the winter soldier. don't worry, we'll get to natasha x jaslyn soon. i'm just tryna have a build-up for her. should their ship name be jastasha? idk

have mercy masterlist chapter one

"Something is off. We should head back for now." Riley speaks into the comms. Something bad is about to happen. He could feel it in his gut as he soared through the sky alongside the two Wilson's.

"Copy that." Sam responds.

The trio turns around and make their way back to base. The plan was that once they make it back, they'd get in touch with the higher-ups and wait for the next instruction.

The sound of a faint whistle meets Jaslyn's ears but she doesn't pay any mind to it.

Big mistake.

Suddenly, Riley's left wing is hit, causing him to lose control and fall through the air.

"No! Riley!"

"Sam! Get help!" Jaslyn yells to her brother. Adrenaline coursing through her blood, Jaslyn shoots down behind a falling Riley. She gains speed and reaches her hands out in hopes of catching him before he meets the ground.

Unfortunately, Riley lands first. "No. Please, no," she pleads.

She didn't make it.

"Don't do this to me, Riles," she whimpers. The sound of her cries reach deaf ears as she cradles his lifeless body. She hears the sound of footsteps coming from behind her.

Before Jaslyn can speak another word everything around her goes dark.

----

It's been five days since the passing of his friend, Riley. And today was the day of the funeral. Sam and many others were seated in the congregation, and Jaslyn was nowhere to be found. Or anywhere for that matter. Sam doesn't know where she is. By the time he came back with the medical team and his other men, all that was left was Riley's body. No Jaslyn in range. At first, Sam assumed that she was heading back to base. But if that were the case, he would've seen her fly past him since they take the same path.

After Riley's body was taken back by airlift, the commander had another group finish the mission while the rest of them packed up to head home. It was supposed to be a simple mission. The three of them were to scan the area in search for any signs of their targets. Then head back and report what they'd seen. Both Sam and Jaslyn hadn't spotted anything unusual, but the air had felt sort of uneasy.

He waited precisely forty-eight hours before reporting Jaslyn's disappearance to the police. It would've been earlier, but Sarah had told him to stay in case she'd showed up. "You have to wait for at least twenty-four before filing a missing person report," Sarah reminded him three days earlier. "Maybe she needed time to deal with the grief on her own. You know how distant she can be when it comes to situations like this." Sarah had a point. After the death of their parents, Jaslyn had disappeared for a few weeks before returning. With that, Sam's distress slightly lessened for the time being.

There was a tiny detail that they seemed to have forgotten. Jaslyn Wilson would always leave them a note or a call to tell them she was safe. No matter what.

Have Mercy | natasha romanoff x black!fem!oc

Chapter One: in or out?

pairings: natasha romanoff x fem!black!oc

warnings: none really besides brief mentions of past trauma (barely any details of it tho)

a/n: here we go. this isn't edited yet so if there's any errors im sorry in advance.

have mercy masterlist chapter two

"Absolutely not," Jaslyn cuts her brother off long before he even gets the chance to speak. Turning around, she walks back inside her house towards the kitchen. The sound of the front door echoes through the halls. And heavy footsteps follow behind.

"Oh, come on! You don't even know what I was gonna ask," Sam exclaims. Walking up beside her, Sam brings his hand up to ruffle her hair, knowing how much the action annoyed her. "What if I just wanted to check on my baby sis, huh?"

She hisses. Smacking his hand away before brushing her hair down. "I hate it when you do that shit. And you know if that were the case, you would've hit me up ahead of time, not just pop up at my door unannounced," Jaslyn points out.

"Okay, sure, but–"

"Also, this has been the second time since I got back from Rio with Redwing that this happened."

"Please, Jas," Sam begs. "I need your help with this one."

Jaslyn would do anything for Sam. It didn't matter how much he'd asked of her. She would go through the depths of Hell if he asked her to. Sam would do the same for her. They were the definition of 'ride or die.' Their loyalty to each other has never been doubted. They may not have been fully blood related, but that never mattered to any of them. Jaslyn was just as much as his sister as Sarah was. They were his family.

Still silent, Sam took that as his chance to explain what was going on. "It's Hydra. They're back and have gotten worse. There's this guy; they call him the Winter Soldier." His gaze was disquieting as he spoke.

Her blood runs cold. No. No, no, no.

Sam continues to debrief her, yet Jaslyn could not register another word after that.

Winter never made it out?

She remembers her time in that dreadful place where Hydra claimed to be her new home. The screams. The torture. The constant state of numbness. And constraint of fear and brainwashing snatching you back. Hydra had turned them into fearful creatures. Monsters. She'd gotten out a couple years ago; however, the gushing red of her victims still dripped from her hands. It still tormented her mind just the same. She’s made a lot of progress in the past couple of years.

During her time at Hydra, she met Winter. She never knew what his real name was, neither did he. So, she chose to refer to him as Winter. They supported each other.

Winter never got out.

"Jas...? Jaslyn!" She hums in response. "You're crying," Sam whispers. His eyes are filled with guilt. He told Fury that she wouldn't want any part of this. Hell, Sam didn't want to include her in this either. No matter how much they needed her.

She didn't notice the tears streaming down her face until she felt Sam's thumbs wipe them away. "I'm sorry. I knew I shouldn't have come. I told Fury this was a bad idea to try and rope you back into all this."

She shakes her head as she looks at him with sadden eyes. "It's not your fault, okay?"

"I could have tried harder. I–"

"You did everything you could, Sammy..." With that, the two are silent. Sam takes his sister in his embrace, holding her tight as though she would disappear out of his hold at any second. The two sway for awhile before Jaslyn breaks the silence.

"I'm sorry, Sammy. I can't. Not after what happened with–" the rest of her sentence gets caught in her throat. Suddenly she was thirsty. Quickly, she moves from his hold and grabs bottled water out of the refrigerator. She gulps the liquid down in a hectic manner. She doesn't let up until there isn't a drop left. Her gaze is unfocused as she leans against the counter. She was a mess.

"Come on. Let's get you back to your room." Sam gently guides her down the hall toward her bedroom. Going inside, he assists her underneath the sheets and tucks her in. Sam gives her a feathered kiss on the forehead.

"There's leftover lasagna in the fridge if you want some on the way out. Tell your little redheaded friend outside she's welcome to have some, too." Taking this as his time to leave, Sam gives her a sympathetic smile before walking towards the door. "I'll be back to check on you later."

Hearing the faint click of the door locking, Jaslyn cries. "I'm sorry I'm too much of a coward to help you," she whimpers.

Have Mercy | natasha romanoff x black!fem!oc

*disclaimer: jaslyn wilson's faceclaim is ryan destiny.*

summary: Peace. All Jaslyn Wilson wanted was some peace and quiet for once after a trip like this. But what did she expect when her brother just had stick his metal wings in other people's business? As usual. But who was she to complain? She gets an amazing view of a dangerous redheaded ex-assassin as a motivation that may just prevent her from strangling her brother to death once she gets the chance. Maybe.

She probably should have went with Sarah and the kids to Hawaii.

chapter one: in or out?

chapter two: why not me?

chapter three: winter (coming soon)

Hotel California | Track 16 : Blurred Lines

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 4k

Chapter 16/20

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: I hope y'all like it =)

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

Keeping a secret from the rest of the band was surprisingly easy. With the pressure to continue touring and giving each show their all, it was something you enjoyed having between the two of you. The excitement and potential of marriage felt overwhelming—heavy in your chest but in the best way. You and Natasha had just hit the year mark and hadn’t even celebrated your anniversary yet. With the late-night shows and back-to-back rehearsals, there hadn't been much room to breathe, let alone plan something as big as announcing an engagement.

It had been a week since she proposed, and you were still on cloud nine. It felt like you floated through every conversation, every soundcheck, every hotel check-in. Something was glowing under your skin, but no one else could see it yet.

In the middle of the afternoon, the sun burned hot over Miami, the air thick with humidity. Natasha and the band had just wrapped up three nights in a row, and now you had a rare stretch of days off, an entire week to breathe. Tony had rented out some sleek little house away from the city, something with too many bedrooms and a private pool tucked behind high walls. Perfect for hiding.

You and Natasha hadn’t meant to be disgustingly in love, but here you were. Half-lounging, half-floating in the pool, a half-eaten plate of fruit on the edge, both of you laughing at something stupid she said. She’d pulled her hair up messily, sunglasses perched low on her nose, freckles peeking through after so much sun. No crew, no flashing lights. No schedule. Her legs tangled with yours underwater, her hand occasionally drifting to your knee like she couldn’t help herself.

This was the best version of you and Natasha, only you saw. The version no one else knew about.

You were happy. You were engaged. You were in love.

Natasha lazily ran her fingers along your arm, eyes hidden behind her sunglasses.

“You know,” she murmured, voice low and warm, “I kinda like having you all to myself like this. No cameras. No band. No one asking questions.”

You smiled, sinking deeper into the water beside her.

“Yeah, well,” you teased, “enjoy it while it lasts. Pretty sure once people figure out what’s on your finger when you wear your ring, we won’t get a moment’s peace.”

Natasha tilted her head toward you, smirking.“Let them talk. They’ve been talking about us since day one.”

You sighed, content, leaning closer until you rested your forehead against her shoulder. Her skin was warm from the sun, soft where your cheek brushed it.

She hummed softly, her fingers drifting along your back.

Your breath tickled her skin.

"I still can't believe it," You leaned back to study her face. "You're going to be my wife."

Natasha smiled.

"Yeah," she murmured, a quiet little sound. "I'm going to be your wife."

Your smile grew impossibly wide, the words sending a rush of warmth down your spine. Your heart fluttered in your chest.

Natasha reached up to trace the curve of your smile with her thumb, her smile growing. Her other hand snapped your bikini against your skin as she took advantage of your distraction. You squealed and tried to get away, but she was faster, her hands finding all the ticklish spots on your body. She pulled you into her, opening her legs to accommodate you, wrapping her arms around your body. You squirmed, laughter bubbling up from deep in your belly, and you could feel her smiling as she pressed a kiss against the side of your head.

You were still breathless when you calmed, and Natasha's fingers skimmed your bare sides, tracing over the wet skin.

"God, I love you," she murmured, and you felt your cheeks heat. She could be so intense sometimes.

You turned your head and kissed her. She tasted like sunshine and chlorine, the faintest trace of strawberry lingering on her lips. She kissed you back, her hands tightening against your hips. Your heart pounded.

"I love you," you whispered against her lips, and she hummed again.

"Nobody's here," She murmured.

"What?"

"The guys are still out. They won't be back for a while. Isabella is with Wanda."

You laughed. "We can't," You chided. "It's daylight."

"I don't care," She breathed, her nose nudging yours. "It's not like the neighbors are watching."

"You're incorrigible," You mumbled, but it was weak, her lips already distracting you. Your kiss turned slow and gentle, tongues tangling, her hand sliding to your neck.

You moaned softly, and you could feel her smile.

"Let me take care of you," She whispered, and you nodded.

Her hand trailed up your leg, slipping beneath the fabric of your bikini bottoms to caress your ass. You both were too distracted to hear the sliding doors open.

"Kid in tow," Wanda announced as she exited the house, "so no sex in the pool."

You squealed and ducked under the water, Natasha's grip loosening. When you surfaced, her arms had dropped away, and you were facing the pool's other side. You were a respectable distance apart, though the pink in her cheeks made her guilt obvious.

Wanda smirked, watching as you fixed your top, and sighed.

"Also, the guys are here."

"Damn," You muttered. "And I was looking forward to that."

Wanda snickered and settled onto one of the lounge chairs. Isabella came out a moment later with a pool floatie and a huge grin.

"Look what Steve found!"

"Wow," you cooed. "That looks awesome."

She nodded, dropping her towel before climbing into the inner tube. She pushed off, floating to the pool's center, and you couldn't help but laugh.

Natasha caught your eye and smiled, mouthing an apology, and you smiled back. You weren't angry, though you did want to know how long they were supposed to be gone.

You'd been so distracted by her touch, tongue, voice, body, and hands.

You wanted more.

"So," Wanda cut in, pulling you from your thoughts, "what time is your flight again?" She asked, directing her question to you.

"It's at 5 am," You informed her. "Gives us plenty of time to get home and rest."

Natasha groaned, dropping her head back dramatically against the edge of the pool.

“Way too early,” she mumbled. “You sure you can’t just skip it?”

You shot her a look, lips quirking.

“Tempting, but no. You know Sam—he’ll want every second he can get with Bella.”

Your eyes flickered toward Isabella, giggling in the pool, and your voice softened. “Besides, work’s piling up. It’s time.”

Wanda gave you a sympathetic glance over her sunglasses. "We're going to miss you gals around here. Isabella is my best bud."

"I have a lot of fun with you guys," Isabella smiled. "But I miss Daddy."

Natasha sighed, pretending to pout as she watched Isabella spin lazily in her floatie.

“I don’t know what I’ll do a whole week without you two,” she said, stretching her arms to pull you back. She rested her chin on your shoulder. “Might lose my mind.”

You raised a brow, smirking.

“You? Lose your mind? Never thought I’d see the day.”

“She’s already halfway there,” Wanda teased, earning a laugh from Isabella.

Natasha rolled her eyes but smiled softly, her gaze flickering between you and Bella. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up now. I’ll be counting the hours.”

You felt something warm settle low in your chest at how she said it—not overly dramatic, but honest enough to make your heart squeeze.

“Lucky for you,” you murmured. "I will be back before you know it."

"I know, I know," Natasha pouted, her lips brushing your cheek. "I still hate being away from you."

"Me, too," You admitted, turning to face her.

She leaned forward, pressing her lips against yours, and the sound of Wanda clearing her throat reminded you where you were.

Natasha grinned.

"Get a room, you two," Wanda called, her voice teasing.

"You see what I have to deal with?" Isabella rolls her eyes playfully.

Before you could come up with a snarky reply, the sound of the back gate clicking open pulled everyone's attention. Voices drifted through, easy and familiar.

"Hope you’ve got drinks left," Tony called out, sunglasses already perched on his nose as he strolled in like he owned the place—which, technically, he probably did. Steve followed right behind, carrying a cooler, while Bucky trailed last, towel slung over his shoulder and smirking at the scene in front of him.

“Wow, didn’t realize we were crashing a funeral,” Bucky teased, giving Isabella a little wave as she grinned at him from the pool.

Tony scanned the group, raising an eyebrow. “What’s with the long faces? Thought this was supposed to be a party.”

“It was,” Wanda shrugged, shifting her sunglasses up. “Until lovebirds over here started getting all mopey.”

Natasha shot her a look but didn’t deny it. Instead, her fingers brushed your hips. You could feel the gears turning in her head. You knew that look. She was thinking.

Bucky and Steve found chairs, cracking open beers while Tony immediately commandeered the Bluetooth speaker, flipping through playlists. It felt easy, loud, and comfortable in a way that only comes when everyone knows each other too well.

Natasha glanced at you, lips tugging in a small smile, and you already knew.

It wouldn’t stay a secret much longer.

She leaned in close, voice low so only you could hear.

“Maybe now’s the time,” she murmured, eyes flicking toward the guys. “Before someone else beats us to it.”

You gave her a look, half amused, half bracing yourself.

“You sure?”

Natasha’s smile widened something almost giddy underneath.

“Absolutely.”

"Hey, lovebirds, don't keep secrets from the rest of us," Tony said, pulling your attention.

You turned and saw his gaze on the two of you.

"It's not a secret, is it, babe?" You said, turning your gaze to Natasha.

"No, not anymore," Natasha replied. "Y/n and I wanted to know where you guys would be September 2nd?"

"Wherever the tour is," Steve offered.

"That's what we figured," You smiled. "We would like to invite you all to our wedding."

Bucky was the first to stand up with a grin.

"Well, hell yeah, I'm there." He cheered.

"You're serious?" Isabella squealed from her tube. She was inches from you in the pool now, sporting the biggest smile.

"Yes, princess, we're getting married," Natasha beamed, her arm wrapping around your waist.

Isabella squealed and jumped over the floaties and into your arms.

"I can't believe you're getting married!" She cried, and her excitement was contagious.

Natasha laughed and hugged her back.

"Can't believe it either, kid," she teased, and the others clapped.

"Well, I'm honored," Tony said, and he looked surprisingly genuine.

"Congratulations, you two," Steve smiled. "Can't think of anyone better suited for each other."

"Where's the ring?" Wanda demanded.

"Safely upstairs, of course," You informed her. "Can't kill it with chlorine already."

"Does this mean I get to be the flower girl? I could wear a cool dress," Isabella was already planning things, which warmed your heart when you saw her so excited.

"Of course," You grinned, pulling her close.

"I'm going to have two moms. This is awesome," Isabella grinned. "I can't wait to tell Lenny. She's going to flip."

"Actually," You exchanged a look with Natasha, who was smiling, too, and you took a breath. "We are hoping to keep our engagement a secret for as long as possible. Ideally, until after the wedding."

"Really?" Bucky asked. "Why? Seems like the kind of thing you'd want everyone to know about."

"Because," Natasha answered for you. "We've spent a lot of this past year under a microscope. We'd rather do this our way."

Tony shrugged. "Sure, I get that. Means I get to throw a helluva bachelorette party."

You laughed. "Of course, that's the first thing you'd focus on."

He shot you a wink. "I have my priorities."

You shook your head, still smiling.

"Thank you, Tony. All of you. For not making a big deal out of this."

"We've all known this was coming," Wanda replied. "Even if none of us had any idea it was happening."

Everyone began climbing out of the pool, toweling off, and grabbing whatever drinks were still cold. Steve was the first to lift his glass, catching everyone’s attention as they gathered around the lounge chairs.

He glanced between you and Natasha, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I think it’s only fitting we make a toast,” he started, voice carrying just enough weight to settle everyone down. “To two of the strongest people I know. To finding something real and holding onto it.”

There were murmurs of agreement as glasses clinked together. Even Isabella, standing between you and Natasha, raised her glass of fruit punch high, beaming.

“To my moms,” she grinned proudly. “And to hanging out with all of you. Even if you’re super loud.”

Everyone laughed at that.

Natasha leaned down, kissing the top of Isabella’s head, her free arm sliding around your waist.

“Here’s to family,” Steve added, lifting his glass again.

You felt something settle deep in your chest at that—something warm, steady, and sure.

“Family,” you echoed, clinking your glass gently against Natasha’s.

******

Early morning departures were usually easygoing. Most people were too tired or in a rush to care about anyone else, which worked in your favor. You kept your head low, sunglasses on, one hand gripping the handle of your carry-on while the other held tight to Isabella’s smaller one. She walked beside you without a care in the world, her backpack strapped securely, as she chattered softly about how much she missed her bed at home.

For the most part, no one had bothered you; it was much too early, even if a few eyes lingered a little longer, a couple of people whispering. It was manageable. It wasn’t like walking out of a venue or some red carpet.

“Mom,” Isabella tugged at your hand, slowing you down. “Can we stop real quick? I wanna get snacks.”

You glanced at the little convenience store she was eyeing, debating. Normally, you’d say no. You'd packed her a few things already, but she looked up at you with that hopeful expression, the same one Natasha always teased you about caving to.

You sighed, leaning down a little. “Fine, but just a few things."

Her grin was instant. “Promise.”

A few minutes later, you stood near the back of the store, letting Isabella browse the candy aisle while you kept an eye on the time.

"Mom!" Isabella said a bit too loudly. Her squeal wasn't one of fear, though. It was more exciting. She quickly found you, and you realized what all the commotion was about. She held up a magazine cover of herself. The picture was of her as she stood beside you and Natasha on stage after one of the performances, smiling ear to ear. "I'm on a magazine. I'm only ten, and I'm on a magazine."

You smiled faintly, eyes flickering to the glossy cover she held up. There it was—your face, Natasha’s, and right in the middle, Isabella grinning, hands thrown up like she didn’t care in the world. Your stomach twisted slightly.

She was excitedly glowing, practically bouncing as she flipped the magazine to show you again. “Look! I’m on it! Can we buy it? Please?”

“If you want it, baby, you can have it,” you told her gently.

She nodded eagerly, already rushing toward the checkout.

You stood a beat longer, staring at the image on another cover. You and Sam had always kept a tight grip on Isabella’s exposure. Carefully curated appearances, blurred-out photos, no paparazzi access. But the tour, the shows—it was impossible to shield her completely. You knew that.

Now, seeing the evidence, you felt a twinge of regret. Was she being too exposed? Would this come back to bite you? Of course, no one knew much about Isabella. She wasn't in the spotlight often and wasn't being interviewed or questioned. It still felt like a risk. Something that always made you think twice.

"Mama, I'm ready to check out."

"Alright, let's go," you told her.

She skipped back to your side, magazine tucked safely under her arm and a few candy bars in her other hand.

You kept thinking about the magazine cover as you paid for the snacks. You had to call Sam and give him a heads-up if he hadn't already seen it. He'd have some thoughts, of course, and the rest of the PR team. It was unavoidable, a part of the life you chose. You couldn't help but wonder if it was a life she could choose for herself.

You sighed, trying to push the thought away as the cashier returned your card.

"Thanks, ma'am," the cashier smiled, and you nodded, grabbing Isabella's hand again.

"Thank you," she replied.

"Have a good day, you two."

"We will. Have a nice day," You smiled.

You had a flight to catch, and Isabella had a dad to see.

Everything would be fine.

*******

You were just sliding your laptop shut when your phone buzzed on the table. The meeting had run over, and now you were scrambling to wrap up the last of your work before you would go home and crash.

A few notifications flashed—one from the group chat about Steve and Tony arguing over where the band should get food.

But it was the string of messages from Natasha that caught your eye:

Natasha: Miss you already.

Natasha: Counting down days till you’re back.

Natasha: I hope your meetings are going well.

You grinned and quickly typed out a reply.

You: They are. Can't wait to tell you all about it.

You: And yes, I miss you too.

Natasha: <3

You were still smiling when another message popped up:

Natasha: BTW, what are you wearing?

You laughed out loud at that one. You stood up to close your office door before pressing the call button. She picked up on the first ring with a smug, satisfied tone.

"So, what are you wearing?"

"You're such a nerd," You said, shaking your head, the grin spreading wider. "And my work clothes, obviously."

"That's hot."

"Oh, yeah, very sexy."

"Are you alone?" She asked.

"I am, locked the door and everything." You entertained the idea. "You're not. Aren't you at rehearsals?"

"I am," Natasha nodded. "They won't mind."

You scoffed.

"Don't be such a tease."

"Who said I was teasing?" She countered, and you could hear the amusement in her voice.

"You're insatiable, Romanoff."

"Maybe," She conceded, and her tone softened. "I really miss you."

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest.

"I miss you, too," You admitted quietly, leaning back against your chair. "It's been a long week."

"Any luck with the label?"

"Not yet," You sighed. "The investors are hesitant, but they're considering. Having new clients suck sometimes."

"You'll get it," She replied, and you could practically see her shrug. "If anyone can, it's you."

"That's the goal," You nodded, shifting in your seat.

"And, hey," She added, voice dropping to a lower, almost conspiratorial tone. "It'll be nice when we can travel together again. Maybe have some fun in between shows."

"Gone a few days, and you're already feening for some action," You teased, and she chuckled.

"It's been a few days already."

You couldn't argue with that, not when it felt like ages.

"I'll see you next week," You promised.

"I'll keep my fingers crossed."

"What are you going to do tonight?" You asked. "Any plans?"

"Nah," Natasha denied. "The guys are thinking about inviting a few people over, but I'm not interested."

"No? I thought you liked a party."

"I'm not feeling it. I'll order something and relax."

"Good idea," You agreed. "I'm going to head straight home. Maybe order something and watch a movie."

"What's Isabella up to tonight?"

"Hanging out with Sam," You said. "He's been chill about everything that's going on. He's happy to see her so happy."

"Good," Natasha murmured, her voice a little distracted. "She's got a great dad."

"Yeah," You said, and then there was a knock on the door.

"Sorry, babe, I've got to go," You apologized, grabbing your bag. "Someone's here."

"Okay," She answered, a hint of reluctance. "I love you."

"I love you too," You said before hanging up. Another meeting. You groaned inwardly, wondering if your next vacation would have enough time to compensate for the overtime.

*********

Tony’s parties never tended to be small.

It was always a full house—sometimes even spilling into the yard with music that could be heard half a block down. This one was no different. Natasha found herself in a familiar position, a drink in her hand and a smile on her face as she chatted with old friends.

It was a nice night. Cool enough that the windows were open, the sounds of the city drifting in, and she took a sip of her beer, eyes wandering. Her night had started out simple enough. She’d danced with a few familiar faces, talked shop with Tony and Steve, and at some point, found herself caught up in a conversation with a girl who seemed too young for the party, but not by much. She was Mia and had that carefree spirit that Natasha was attracted to. Mia talked to her about the many tattoos on her body, and Natasha enjoyed the conversation.

"I'm thinking about getting another one," Mia nodded. "I'm addicted to the ink now."

"I love a good tattoo," Natasha smiled, taking a swig of her drink.

"Which one is your favorite?" Mia asked, her eyes trailing over Natasha's skin as they stood near the kitchen island, the loud music echoing through the room.

"I only have one," Natasha gestured to the tattoo on her back. "I've been meaning to get a few others, but I don't have the time these days."

"Oh, I have a few time savers," Mia smirked, stepping a little closer, her voice teasing as she leaned against the counter, her eyes not leaving Natasha's.

Natasha glanced around her, where Tony and Steve were still conversing about some tech gadget. The band was scattered, with drinks in hand, clearly enjoying themselves. She took a sip of her beer. She tried to make this less awkward for the girl.

"I'll have to remember that," Natasha replied, raising an eyebrow. She could feel the shift in the air, Mia's gaze now clearly focused on her mouth.

"Or I could give you my number, and we can discuss them sometime." Mia's voice dropped to a lower register, a hint of something else in her tone.

Natasha chuckled. "You're bold," she said, shaking her head lightly, but her tone was still playful. "But I'm not interested. I have a girlfriend."

"Ah, damn, and here I thought I was in luck," Mia smiled, not looking too put out by Natasha's confession. "She doesn't have to know."

"I know, and I'm not that kind of person," Natasha told her, keeping her voice low.

"Damn," Mia said, pushing herself off the counter. She walked away with a smirk, her gaze not leaving Natasha's, her body swaying as she went to find a new distraction.

Natasha shook her head and finished her drink. She'd been tempted, she could admit. It was the nature of her job, the attention, the constant attention of a crowd, the buzz of alcohol. She was human, and she had her limits.

"Time for body shots!" Someone called, and Natasha looked up.

Bucky and Wanda were entering the living room, the crowd gathering around. Tony was grinning, pulling out a bottle of tequila and a tray of lime slices.

"Come on, Nat, let's do this!" Wanda called.

Natasha sighed, knowing there was no stopping this train, and made her way toward them.

"You guys are insane," She shook her head. "There's no way we're still doing this like in college."

"Aw, come on," Tony teased. "Where's your sense of fun? Live a little."

"This is stupid," She rolled her eyes, but a part of her was curious, especially when a few people began cheering and laughing.

"It's harmless," Tony argued, holding up the tray of lime slices. "And no one will judge you."

Natasha looked around, saw the expectant faces of her friends, and gave in.

"Fine, one round," She said, walking to the dining table.

"Great," Tony grinned, motioning for the crowd to gather around the table. "You're going first."

"Of course I am," Natasha muttered. "If I have to, I'm choosing Wanda."

"Sure thing, Red," Bucky laughed.

"Don't mind if I do," Wanda lay on the table, lifting her shirt far enough to see her belly button.

Natasha stepped up, her gaze focused on her friend. She grabbed a lime slice and held it gently between her teeth.

"Let's make this quick," Natasha said.

"Don't be a baby, Natasha," Tony laughed. "Ready?"

"Go ahead," Natasha said, bracing herself.

The salt was poured onto Wanda's abdomen, right next to her belly button, and the crowd cheered as the music continued.

"Don't forget the lime!"

"Drink it!"

"One, two, three, go!" Tony shouted.

Natasha did what she did best, leaning down and licking the salt off of Wanda's stomach before reaching for the shot. She swallowed, grimacing as she reached for the lime, biting into it and sucking the juice out before tossing it to the side. The crowd cheered, and she stood up with a smug smile.

"Nice try," Wanda laughed.

"Your turn," Natasha gestured toward her.

Wanda nodded, her eyes scanning the room, landing on Steve.

"Rogers, what do you say? Ready for a little taste?" She winked.

Steve grinned and shrugged.

"Why not," He walked toward her.

"Get it, Rogers!" Someone shouted.

"You're next, Buck," Wanda added.

"Oh, I'm ready," Bucky smirked, and the crowd cheered.

"Alright," Wanda nodded. Natasha watched for a few more minutes, enjoying herself and the music. The last shot she'd taken had clearly been too much for her, and the room was beginning to feel a bit more warm. After a few more rounds of shots and playful banter, the buzz had worn off, and the noise was starting to grate on her nerves. She made her way to the stairs, trying to sneak away unnoticed.

She had one hand on the railing when she heard a voice behind her. “Leaving already?”

Mia was there, a little too close for comfort, her gaze lingering on Natasha with an intensity that made Natasha’s stomach tighten.

“Yeah, I think I’m done for the night,” Natasha said, keeping her voice calm but firm.

Mia stepped forward, almost blocking the path. “Mind if I join you? I could use a break from the crowd, too.”

Natasha hesitated momentarily, her eyes flickering toward her room at the top of the stairs. She knew what this was. She knew what Mia wanted. She didn’t have the energy for this tonight, not for someone who wasn’t what she needed.

Mia smiled.

"No," Natasha told her. "I'm not interested. This is my second time telling you tonight. You should just give it up. You're a nice girl. A beautiful girl that I'm sure could find someone here that would love to take you home."

"I'm not blind," Mia interrupted, her eyes narrowing.

"And I'm not interested. Go find someone else."

Mia opened her mouth to say something, but Natasha was already walking past her, climbing the stairs two at a time and disappearing into her room.

She sighed, closing the door behind her, letting the noise of the party fade into the background. She locked the door and turned on the lamp by her bed, casting the room in a soft, yellow glow. She looked around the room for her phone but couldn't find it anywhere. She didn't dare go back down to the party. She turned on the TV and decided to spend the rest of her night alone.

It was for the best.

Her head was still spinning slightly from the alcohol, and she was sure she was going to feel worse in the morning. The soft noise of the TV filled the silence, but the flickering of the light on the walls began to pull her into a sleepy haze. Her eyes fluttered closed, and within minutes, she was out.

It wasn't like Natasha ending a party so early, but she was a taken woman now. She didn't realize what she would wake up to. 

-----> next part

— ༉‧₊˚. 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞

— ₊⊹ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 . Natasha Romanoff x reader

— ₊⊹ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 . Natasha always patched herself up. she never even allowed anyone near when she's hurt. you, on the other hand, made her a bandage and even discovered a little more about who she was.

— ₊⊹ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 . implied violence, bullet wounds, blood, bruises, talks of the red room, cursing, emotional moments, caring for baby Natasha.

— ₊⊹ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 . finishing that a year later. yup, that's me. but that's just too special for me to drop it.

fic started: july, 08, 2023, 1:06pm. | finished: june, 23, 2024, 9:29pm.

dividers belong to: @saradika-graphics — ₊⊹

you're at home, reading a book as you usually did. the day was calm, tranquil, and it didn't seem like anything bad would happen. the sun rays came in from the gap between the curtains and shone right onto your face.

little did you know what was going on out there. the avengers were looking for the Winter Soldier, and well, the search wasn't going really good. cars crashing, civilians injured. and the target out there, no signs of him.

your best friend, the Black Wid— Natasha, had been as reckless as she always was, and attempting to protect a citizen, she took a bullet on the shoulder. and instead of getting immediate medical attention, she used her bleeding arm to fire a shotgun and throw a few more punches here and there.

Steve wanted to get her to a SHIELD facility, but she knew their usual procedure — they'd have her arm cut open to remove the bullet, stitch her up, and keep her in observation. she didn't want any of that. too much physical contact for her liking.

so she thought of the only smart way she could make this play. she couldn't simply go to her house with a criminal running around, in the middle of a mission. and her team would go looking for her there. not a smart choice. so she went to you.

not that she wanted to be taken care of. not that she needed to be taken care of, due the intense amount of pain going through her system. she'd just go to your house to hide, yeah.

the knocks on your door sounded heavy and urgent. you placed the book down, walking to the entrance and looking through the peephole — finding yourself in front of a bleeding, broken Natasha Romanoff. the door almost flies open, and she doesn't give you time to ask questions, stumbling inside and kicking the door shut.

"shh, keep your voice down." the redhead whispers weakly. regardless of the pain, she tries to be sarcastic. "don't be too loud or they might find me."

"your arm!" you whisper-yell, ignoring everything she had said. you ran to grab a cloth, pressing it against the wound. Natasha hissed loudly. just then you realized it was a bullet. "holy shit, i'm so sorry."

"i'm good." she weakly reassures, grabbing the cloth from your hand, taking a step back. she applied pressure to stop the bleeding — but she was barely standing. "just a tiny scratch,"

"shut it." you shake your head and carefully lead her to the nearest couch, helping her to sit down. by now, you'd have already called an ambo. but like she said, she was being chased. "spit it out, c'mon."

"mission went wrong." she sighs, allowing her eyes to close for a moment, then opening them again. when she feels you sitting down next to her, she instinctively scoots over, as if to create some distance. "the most of it is classified. but it went wrong. that's all i can tell you,"

"alright, Natasha. but you got to go and see a doctor." you chuckle humorlessly, pointing out the obvious.

the redhead was sweating, expression showing clear pain. even if the bleeding on her shoulder had stopped, she was still weak. it didn't matter she was trained for that. she was still a person.

"i can handle it." she tries to smile, but feels the uneasiness again. her eyes feel heavy, and she wants to close them. but she knew that meant passing out, going to the hospital. "just get me a first aid kit and i'll be okay."

"god, you're stubborn." you murmur. you'd probably give her a speech, but not now. "hang in there, i'll be right back."

you quickly went to the bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit from the cabinet, placing it on the living room's coffee table. you also grabbed a water bottle and a bag of cookies you had, in case she wanted to eat later.

you just didn't expect her to push you back when you reached out to touch her arm.

"just give it to me," she extends her hand towards the kit box, coaxing a small, incredulous laugh out of you.

"you expect me to let you do it yourself? in that state?" you ask, genuinely concerned now. you sit down by her side once again, slowly. she gulps.

Natasha was your elusive superhero friend, so you never really had that much of physical contact before. you didn't know about her past, either. you didn't know her fear of people touching her. her fear of being vulnerable. because back then, she wasn't allowed to be vulnerable.

widows never failed. widows never got sick. if a widow had an injury, that meant victory. she'd have to heal herself and focus back on the mission. so simply putting, Natasha didn't know what it was to allow someone to care for her.

but now... she was almost passing out. really. she also knew damn well you had no intentions of hurting her, nor reasons to do so. or else, she'd have distanced herself a long time ago. so she sighs in defeat.

"... just make it quick, okay?" she shifts, allowing you in her personal space.

you sigh as well in relief, opening the first-aid kit box and grabbing a wipe, putting some hydrogen peroxide on it. the blood under the cloth had long dried. you carefully unwrapped it from her arm, setting it aside. you examined the wound closely. the bullet went through, it was good, somehow. you wouldn't have to magically learn how to make a surgery.

Natasha's eyes followed your hand, as it wiped away the blood covering her arm. she was so tense at the beginning. but time went by, and her brain slowly registered the fact she didn't have a reason to be tense. her shoulders visibly eased up.

"the bullet's not here," you whisper, throwing the dirty wipes away and grabbing the ointment, the antiseptic, and the bandages. "i'll patch you up for now, but Nat, you seriously need some stitches."

she's relieved. the pain is still strong, but she's relieved, with you. only if you knew how bad she was trying not to cry right now. her voice quivers, as she points to something inside the box. "i-is that aspirin?"

you frown, stopping the movements. "it is. do you want some?"

"mhm." the russian hums, unable to stop the little tear from rolling down her cheek. with your help, she takes a couple of pills and swallows it with the water you grabbed earlier. "thank you,"

"you're welcome." you murmur back, softly smiling at the sight of Natasha's tender side starting to show up. you continue, applying the ointment on her skin and carefully spreading it.

"i never had this before," Natasha says, almost inaudibly. her head lowers itself to your shoulder, surprising you. "did you know that? because back then, getting hurt was a good thing. they made us believe that, i mean."

you listen to her soft rambling, humming to let her know you heard. you finish wrapping the bandages around her arm and shoulder, and put some band-aids to keep it secure. in response to her leaning against you, you carefully, gently wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

"i'm glad you know that's not true anymore." you comment, and she nods. her lips quiver more. my, she looks so.. broken. and you'd do anything to fix her. at least try. "you can cry, Nat. let your pain out."

she sniffles, her one good arm circling you as she weakly buried her face on your shoulder, allowing the tears to flow freely. her body trembles, so you hold her closer, tighter. your body heat comforts her.

after a while, she certainly doesn't want to talk. her sobs quiet down, and she tries to cuddle up against you. " 'm tired, wanna sleep."

"i know." you say, pressing the back of your hand against her forehead. she surely had a fever. but the aspirin she took before would help, in a few hours. "you can take your rest now."

Natasha whimpers quietly — which was supposed to be a yawn — and allow her eyelids to finally shut. she clings to you tightly, as if genuinely scared you would disappear if she let you go. but you never would.

not after seeing such a thing. she did something major today. and you treasured it with your whole heart. you pressed a kiss on the top of her head and held her — having no idea if the SHIELD spies would come after you. nah, probably not. Natasha knew what she was doing.

·˚ ₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 | natasha romanoff

. ݁₊ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 . it was a new era of her life. she no longer had missions or a team to rely on — only endless free time, and a bunch of thoughts that weren't really helpful. Natasha for once, had time to pick up her phone — something trivial. through the dating app Tony had dared her to install months ago, she meets somebody. finally, her heart was at peace.

. ݁₊ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 . smut! i am not responsible for your content consumption! — a TW for the photo editing thing. this may be a sensitive topic for some. lonely Nat, insecure Nat — she edits a picture of her body, swearing, oral (N receiving). lots of fluffy stuff, too. set after Civil War.

. ݁₊ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. this ended up SO MUCH longer than i initially planned. i put a lot of dedication into this so, yeah 🥹

thanks to my lovely @sunswish who helped me with the plot and the proofreading! ♡

The trailer was quiet, except for the faint rustle of the wind through the trees outside. Natasha sat at the small wooden table by the window, her knees pulled up to her chest, a steaming mug of tea resting untouched beside her. The Norwegian countryside was beautiful, vast and unassuming, but the stillness pressed down on her.

Her phone laid on the table, the screen dark. She stared at it for a moment, the faintest flicker of hesitation crossing her face. She’d never been good at this — being still, alone with her thoughts. For years, her life had been one constant motion: missions, battles, briefings, always moving forward because stopping meant thinking, having time to ponder about her life.

Her jaw tightened, and she looked out the window instead. What was she even doing?

She’d fought tooth and nail to become an Avenger, to carve out some sliver of redemption for herself, some sense of belonging in a world she’d spent so long working against. She’d believed in their cause, in their family, even when it meant trusting people with pieces of herself she hadn’t known she was capable of sharing.

And now? The Avengers were gone. Torn apart, like everything else she’d tried to build. She was a fugitive, hunted by the very government she’d once fought to protect. Her friends — her family — were scattered, some in hiding, some in prison. She was left with nothing but her name and a handful of private contractors who worked in the shadows. People she barely trusted, people who barely trusted her. Yet she still needed them for supplies, false documents, and a roof above her head. Funny, she thought.

She reached for her mug, her fingers curling around the warmth of the ceramic, though she didn’t take a sip. She had no mission now, no team to fall back on. No one to call when the silence became too much. She wasn’t sure if she missed the fights or the people more.

A faint vibration against the table snapped her from her thoughts. Her phone. She glanced down, the screen lighting up with a notification — some random email, one of these ‘no reply’ ones, nothing important. She hesitated, then picked it up anyway, her thumb hovering over the screen.

Scrolling through her phone felt… strange. Almost trivial. She opened Instagram, an app she barely used but kept around for the rare moments she wanted to feel tethered to something normal. The feed was full of snapshots of a life she didn’t recognize—vacations, dinners, smiling faces, people celebrating milestones she wouldn't ever have.

And right then, the name ‘Avengers’ didn’t make sense for her anymore. She was supposed to have this. This life where she would have a fun moment and think ‘oh, yes! i should absolutely shoot a pic and add to my stories’. After all, Natasha was just an unavenged girl, woman, human. A picture of a mother celebrating her daughter's birthday wasn't just one more picture showing on her feed. It was her dream.

She scrolled absently, her mind only half-engaged as her thumb flicked upward. Part of her wanted to throw the phone across the room and forget she’d ever picked it up. But another part—the quieter, lonelier part—held onto it like a lifeline.

She then receives another automatic notification. How has your love life been going? It took her a moment to remember what it was, and when she did, she let out a dry, humorless laugh.

The dating app.

She’d installed it months ago as a joke, because Tony had bet her she wouldn’t. She could still hear his voice in her head, teasing her. “Come on, Nat. You might actually meet someone who doesn’t want to kill you for once.” At the time, it was funny. She’d downloaded it, filled out the bare minimum of the profile, like: cat lover, captivating green eyes & martial arts enjoyer and promptly forgotten about it.

Her finger hovered over the icon now, her heart giving a strange, uncomfortable twirl in her chest. The idea of opening it felt absurd. What would she even say to someone? What would they see in her, beyond the scars and the lies and the mess she’d made of her life? That was made of her life? Could she even try and have a relationship? When throughout her life, she didn’t ever have a conversation about feelings? Clint was the closest attempt to that — he knew her past, more than the others, at least. So she spoke to him about things like that before. But he had a wife, kids, a home.

Natasha damned her heart every single day — for wanting a connection with somebody — for wanting to be somebody's, and for not being content with what she already has.

What does she even have?

She sighs deeply as she gathers a little bit of courage (that usually wasn't necessary when one was to open a simple app in their phone) and presses her thumb against the icon. Her eyebrows show a little frown as she realizes the app wasn’t open — she had held the icon for too long, making the options add to home and uninstall pop up on her screen.

“Goddammit,” she mutters to herself. Maybe she had done it on purpose. She considers choosing the second option. But her thumb, once again, hovers over the uninstall word for too long.

She was just confused. In conflict, with something so small. Although, she was braver than that.

“Let's just get over with this.” She mutters to herself as she finally opens the app — SparkMatch, she reads the name, for the first time. She lets out a scoff. Though the feeling of unease didn't take long before coming back to her. The about me section was completely empty, in exception for-

“Captivating green eyes. Cat lover.” she reads the words she had typed, aloud, cursing herself. It was what she had written in order to simply make the Iron Man laugh and leave her alone. “Great job, Romanoff. Truly irresistible.”

Scrolling down her profile, which was named only @Natasha1203— having in mind that her surname wasn't one to be openly shared — she finds the photos she had chosen, months ago, without really thinking much. Her gallery didn't have much cheering stuff. They were as nondescript as possible: a picture of a skyline she had taken while on the run. Her in sunglasses, her most common accessory. And.. a single closeup of her face, that felt too honest for comfort. She doesn’t know why she left that one there, for the world to stare at. Maybe it was the one moment where she caught herself looking like.. well, herself. If somebody squinted their eyes, they could see a small scar on her shoulder. She hoped people wouldn’t do that.

Summing up: the profile was a mess. And that was a perfect reflection of the person behind it. She doesn't make a move to edit any information — before remembering an important detail. It would be nice to change her profile's name, in case anybody (especially Tony, that was aware of this) tried to look for her.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203 was the new username.

Perfect. She does a little ‘tsk’ with her tongue, a little habit she developed when finishing a task.

Flirting was easy. She had been trained for it — trained in the art of seduction, molded into a woman that could slip into any persona, say the right words, touch in the right way, just to get what she needed. But this wasn't one of the spy programs she had access to in SHIELD. This wasn't about manipulation or information extracting. This was trivial. Normal.

Natasha browses through the app for a while. She stops in profiles of strangers that smiled back at her through their pictures — men, women, who were teachers, doctors, engineers. People with families and hobbies. Who had the chance to live a life without looking over their shoulders every second. Yet something about this.. gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling. It was faint, but it was there. Knowing all these little details about random folks, she could find small pieces of herself in each one: some did ballet when they were little. Some had a scar due a kitchen accident. Some did karate simply for liking the sport. Some liked peanut butter sandwiches. She quietly giggles, her previous nervousness replaced by a silly feeling.

Maybe it wasn't that bad. It is not like a random person was gonna crawl out of her phone screen and have a date right then, anyway. And there was another ‘problem’. This app was still american, while she was in a whole new timezone.

What a relief.

She shifts on the small couch of her trailer, now laying down on it, allowing herself to get entertained with SparkMatch. She even found some profiles that were probably deactivated by now, seeing that they were created, like, a decade ago. She purposefully clicked on the small heart on them, meaning Match. She softly laughs.

But the sound is interrupted by herself as she finds a specific user.

It was a minimalist profile — elegant, even. It didn't say much about the person's personality: it said enough. It wasn't extravagant or absurd like some she had found. And it certainly wasn't a mess, like hers.

Y/n. 34. Not good at small talk, but I'm a good listener. A photographer, currently traveling around. Just someone who thinks the world is too big of a place to stay idle for too long. Currently: Norway

It was truly something else, compared to the live, laugh, love bios or the gym rats flashing their abs.

Her curiosity picks up, and soon enough, she sees a picture of them in Oslo.

And it was posted just three days ago.

So they were active in this app. But this wasn't what her mind grasped. Traveling in Norway. International trips usually didn’t last just three days, right? So that meant they were still there. There with her.

Out of all countries in the world, they were there?

She reads the bio again. Currently: Norway.

A strange shiver runs down her spine the more she thinks about the situation she found herself into. She bites on her lip, her stomach twirling almost painfully, like a school girl texting her crush. She was the Black Widow, for God's sake. She didn't get to go on silly dates and receive flowers.

No. This was too much. Without closing the app, she locks the screen of her phone again and drops it to the couch, quickly standing up and running her fingers through her hair. There were many reasons why this wouldn't work, especially when she was a fugitive and could get recognized, even in a small cafe.

Heading to the tiny kitchen, she opens a drawer on the countertop and grabs a bottle opener, opening the fridge and taking a beer out. She removes the cap and downs the bottle with no second thought, the bitter liquid ripping down her throat. Deeply breathing, shakily. Amidst the vast emptiness, not only of the place she was currently settled, but of her heart too, she fought back tears. The glass of the bottle clicks against the marble countertop as she places it down, her hands tightly gripping onto the edge of the furniture, holding herself up. It was a hard decision to make, whether to take this opportunity and keep it safe in her heart, or to let it go and pretend it never happened in the first place.

But she wouldn't be able to rest tonight knowing she simply did nothing about that special person the app charitably put into her hands. So, on this night, the unshatterable Natasha Romanoff did something she never thought she would. Before heading to bed, she picked up her phone again. Gladly, she didn't have to look for the profile once more. She simply had to press onto the small heart next to their picture. And she did.

The screen flashed: It's a match!

Natasha blinked in surprise, almost dumbfounded by this message. But this was meant to happen, right? Now, she could only hope that she would receive something in return by the morning.

It felt.. good. She had something to expect, a little flicker of hope that followed her even in her dreams, that made her feel better than she could ever imagine.

And this was just the start.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

When the next day came, all of Natasha’s thoughts regarding the whirlwind of recent events were replaced by a single thing: that person. That New Yorker who was currently in Norway to take photos for a personal album. She initially wondered if she could really lower her guard like this and not think too much about Secretary Ross — who was still after her — but it was not like she would leave this trailer anytime soon. Thus, she needed a distraction, something to keep her brain entertained until this whole mess was over.

Talking to them was a relief — a solace she had been needing and didn't even know until now.

Talking to you.

Right away you had seen the match notification of SparkMatch, even if it was already one in the morning when it arrived. You sent this woman- Fanny? a message, and waited, but no response came until the next day. You wondered if she had impulsively pressed the match button and ran away from her phone out of nervousness. You actually imagined it, seeing the one picture of herself she published on her feed. Her profile was.. vague, to say at least, but she was incredibly beautiful, and indeed had captivating green eyes, like she boldly described herself. It made you smirk to your phone’s screen. No, genuinely smile.

It was pretty much clear that she wasn't a dating app person. And neither were you! You just had a better sense of organization than her, that's for sure. What if you two could really be a match?

As the day went on, you two engaged into a conversation that was surprisingly enjoyable for both sides. Opening the inbox chat, that could be found:

@Y/n: Good night. Is your real name Fanny Longbottom?

— eight hours later —

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Good morning! The first thing you ask a woman is if her name is real?

@Y/n: It just doesn't suit a beautiful redhead with captivating green eyes.

Natasha groaned to herself at this, laughing. The humor in the text was evident, and she loved that.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Right. It was a joke. You can call me.. Nat.

It was a glimpse of her name. It could be Natasha, Natalia, Natalie.. or all of these.

@Y/n: Nat.. that is better. Yet still very vague. Like your whole profile.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Perhaps my whole account here is a joke.

@Y/n: And we still matched. And sincerely, I'm intrigued. Intrigued and curious.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That’s a dangerous thing to tell someone you just met.

@Y/n: Personally, I wouldn’t call a cat lover dangerous.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Will you stop mocking me for my irresistible biography or what?

It was an easy playful banter. It felt light. Not like these conversations where you had to directly ask the other person to be nice to you.

@Y/n: You just don’t strike me as someone who spends much time on dating apps. What brings you here?

With that, she debated whether to mention Tony’s dare or not. She could talk about it, but not for now. If she’s sincere, about how much she needed not to be alone anymore, this could lead to something good, more profound.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: I’m just trying something new. What about you? Norway seems kinda away from the rest of the world.

@Y/n: It is. But sometimes you have to go far to find what you’re looking for.

Natasha leaned back, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She didn’t know who you were, or why your words seemed to settle something in her chest, but for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, she felt.. excited.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Have you found it?

@Y/n: Not yet. But I have a feeling I might be in the right place.

She stared at the message, her mind turning over the possibilities. She was already glad that this hadn’t started with “hey, you’re cute” or “what’s up?”, and now? It felt like she was in a dream — to find someone that shared her ideals, or that at least, thankfully, sounded like a mature adult.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Maybe Norway isn’t so bad after all.

@Y/n: So you’re also here!

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That seems like an excited message to me.

Gladly, her phone’s camera wasn’t capturing anything. Because she swore her eyes were sparkling right now.

@Y/n: Of course I’m excited, Nat. Now I have something else to think about other than shooting pictures.

Natasha stared at the reply, her fingers lightly brushing against the edge of her phone. There was something disarming about your words — direct, yet not forceful. And the way you used her name so casually made her blush.

She hesitated, before typing back.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: What do you shoot? Other than clever replies, apparently.

@Y/n: Street photography. Portraits, mostly. But I’ve been known to dabble in the occasional cat picture. You know, for balance.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Balance is important. What would the world do with no cat pictures?

@Y/n: I shudder to imagine it. Speaking of balance.. would you let me buy you coffee sometime? Or would that be too much?

Her breath caught. You really didn’t waste time, did you? she thought. For a moment, her walls threatened to go up again — she could almost hear that little voice in the back of her mind telling her that this was not a good idea, that it wasn’t smart, safe.

But she silenced it. It was too soon, for sure — but she couldn’t knock it till she tried it.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That depends. Are you going back to New York in the next few days?

@Y/n: I don’t have a specific date to go back. So I guess it depends on how things go.

Yeah. Now she felt a little pressured. It was a dilemma, she could be the reason you stayed or left. Adrenaline coursed through her veins — that was determination.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: It’s not like I am going anywhere anytime soon, either. But.. I like to play hard to get sometimes. How about we wait and see how things go?

@Y/n: Hard to get, huh? Well, patience is a virtue. Let me know when you feel like stopping the chase.

And you two went on like that — talking about your favorite portraits, sending her some — receiving her compliments, which sounded way too genuine for your liking. It was casual, like talking to a friend. Natasha didn't take long to start feeling comfortable with texting you. If she weren't a spy without a private number, she would've asked for your WhatsApp. Or maybe she was just exaggerating. The thing was: she didn't have to wonder about how to answer you. Your way of having conversations was so nice that she didn't feel forced to text back.

And with these new discoveries, Natasha felt like she could be in this new country without feeling too out of place. She feared that in the end this would be just one momentary experience, one of the many personas she played.

But shockingly, for once, she didn’t feel like paying attention to her overthinking.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

Weeks had passed, and the nightly silence Natasha once dreaded was now filled with something else. Her phone screen, once cold and impersonal, had become an opening to something warmer. A new phase of her life. She never thought she would be so close to a mobile device before. Supersecret agents couldn’t have personal ones other than burner phones, it was risky — they could get hacked, tracked, recognized. She didn’t have a number, or an email with her name, bank accounts, or any sort of thing that could link her to the authorities. She only had TikTok, Instagram, some games like Candy Crush Saga and her newest best friend, SparkMatch.

Everyday, without fail, your conversations flowed effortlessly. You spoke about everything: Norway’s quiet beauty, silly anecdotes, and even the mundane things that somehow became meaningful when shared. She made herself get used to the habit of not thinking much. This wasn’t part of the plan — or rather, there was no plan. This constant connection grounded her in a way she didn’t fully understand.

Having someone willingly care about her, without having to ask, beg for it — she couldn’t understand.

This evening, after eating her exquisite caviar and drinking champagne, she settled onto her couch with a blanket draped over her shoulders. Her phone buzzed, and her mind involuntarily anticipated your witty reply, or question about her day.

Instead, a picture greeted her.

It wasn’t posed or staged — just you. mid-laugh, with a goofy expression that instantly betrayed your attempt to be serious. Your hair was a bit disheveled, and the lighting was off, but the image carried a kind of authenticity Natasha couldn’t let pass. The caption reads:

@Y/n: I don’t usually do selfies, but I figured you deserved to see what you’ve been stuck talking to all this time.

It was caring. You thought about her often enough to send a picture of yourself, doing absolutely nothing important.

Natasha softly blinked at the picture, completely still as her brain worked to process what she was looking at. It wasn’t just a picture. There was trust behind it, a hidden message. She couldn’t tell where you were getting at with this action — actually, she could. She just tried to convince herself of the contrary, afraid of putting her hopes up and screwing up afterwards.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Hi. I wasn’t expecting that.

@Y/n: Hi! How are you right now?

She bites her lip, incredulously chuckling. She was almost certain that this question was supposed to come before the picture.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Better.

She was feeling better, but not just that — she was feeling.. something. Something like.. seen. Like she was remembered by someone, like she existed, for once.

And those feelings stirred something even deeper within her.

The connection was becoming deeper — it was just now that she realized that the flirting which occurred every now and then wasn’t meaningless. It had a deep impact on her, in her soul — as a friend, as a person, and mostly.. as a woman. She needed it. She needed someone to like her, to pay attention to her, to see her — intimately, closely. Even better when this someone wasn’t a superficial person, and actually one who she related to and felt like she could share this dormant part of herself.

So she decides to share a picture, too.

She sits upright on the couch, the blanket falling and pooling around her hips as she opens the camera. She switches from the back camera to the frontal one, and takes a selfie. She was wearing a simple grey tank top, so her shoulders, collarbone and neck were on display. She wasn’t smiling smiling, just briefly, just enough to make a friendly expression. It was soft, tender. Unlike the deadly Black Widow.

Thankfully, for you, she didn’t have to be that.

So she presses send, laying back again and staring at the screen in anticipation — her eyes closely watching as the send mark changed into seen, that then turned into open. It stayed like that for a long while — like you were examining the picture and weren’t ashamed of it.

It gave her goosebumps.

The typing bubble appeared again after what felt like an eternity.

@Y/n: You’re beautiful, Nat.

It was a compliment you had already used on her. But this situation? Oh, it felt so, so different. You were talking about the simplicity, the domesticity of her in this closeup, the softness.

Fueling the fire that started to burn within her on this specific day.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Just a selfie.. don't get carried away. I'm hardly camera ready.

@Y/n: It's more than a selfie for me. It made my day. If that's not camera ready, I wonder how it'll be like when you try.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Would you like to see?

Oops. She didn't think before sending this one.

@Y/n: Hell, yes.

Her mind was immersed, totally consumed by the attention you were giving her — no jokes, no hints, just shameless flirting. Standing from the couch, she walks to her small bedroom, which was already dark, gladly — she closes her door, and slumps on her bed. Seduction was her nature, she couldn't control it. Though it wasn't necessarily a bad thing right now. Reaching her hand out, she turned on her yellow dim lamp, a gentle, warm glow casting her skin, making a better environment for the incoming picture.

She reopened the camera and adjusted herself in a comfortable position — knees pulled up, her left hand resting above her stomach as she held her phone with her right one above herself — taking the photo. There was auburn red hair all over the pillows, some strands framing her face perfectly. There was skin showing — a bit of her thighs, her arms, waist.. the curves of her body leaving room for imagination.

And something that she forgot about for the longest time.

The bullet scar above her left hip.

She stared at the photo on her screen, finger hovering over the "Send" button instinctively. The lighting was perfect, the pose effortless yet captivating. Her expression was soft, relaxed — but her pupils were darkened, a hint of the sinful emotions coursing through her body. But her eyes fell to the scar.

It was unavoidable, cutting through the smooth expanse of her pale skin like a brutal reminder. The bullet scar left by the Winter Soldier, a relic of her past life, stood out glaringly in the image. Her jaw clenched as a familiar wave of self-consciousness surged through her, a feeling she thought she had buried already.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the headboard as her thumb swiped to open the editing tools. It took her less than a minute to brush the scar away, leaving her skin unmarked, untouched. Natasha tilted her head, scrutinizing the result. The photo looked… perfect. Too perfect, perhaps, but she didn’t allow herself to dwell on that.

With a deep breath, she pressed send.

Unlike your other conversations, she felt.. heavy. Like the instinct of having to show her perfect body in order to be liked was speaking louder than her rational side.

The message was delivered almost immediately, but the seconds felt drawn out, agonizingly long. When the "seen" indicator appeared, her heart raced. She bit the inside of her cheek, anticipating your response.

The reply came swiftly:

@Y/n: Wow. I’m speechless.

She smirked (bittersweetly), her thumb hesitating for only a moment before typing back.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That’s a first. Usually, you always have something to say.

The typing bubble reappeared, and she waited, her heart thudding in her chest.

@Y/n: You make it hard to think, Nat.

Natasha felt warmth flood her cheeks, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Don’t let it go to your head.

@Y/n: I think it's too late for that.

For a moment, she wondered what you would have said if you’d seen the unedited version. Would you have found it ugly? Would you have pitied her? Or would you have admired her for wearing it like the badge of survival it was?

In her dreams, you would have worshiped it.

Before she could send anything else, you decided to take a shot on meeting her in person once again.

@Y/n: I'm sorry, I'll have to suggest. How about this: I'll find the best café within a 10-mile radius, and you can tell me if my photography is as good as my coffee recommendations.

Time passed, and the accusations against Natasha had toned down a bit. Maybe, just maybe, if she's careful enough, she can do this. The first date she'd have in what, a decade?

It was refreshing. And scary. But overall refreshing.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Deal. But I will be the judge in both.

The day and place was decided — it would be in Oslo, downtown — a café, where tons of people would be present. Natasha, growing up, became a master in blending in.

If fate decided to be on her side, this would be one of the best days of her life.

She tossed her phone onto the pillow beside her and laid back, staring at the ceiling. Her fingers brushed the scar again, tracing its jagged edges as if trying to understand its place in this new chapter of her life.

“Not everyone gets to see this side of me,” she murmured to herself.

And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if that was a warning or a promise.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

The café buzzed with the warmth of chatter, the soft clinking of ceramic mugs, and the occasional burst of laughter. It was tucked into a quiet corner of downtown Oslo, a place where the world felt comfortably distant yet close enough for her to disappear if necessary. Hours before, Natasha had dressed herself up — a burgundy dress, black tights, her usual black boots — and her jacket, of course. Her hair was naturally wavy, falling down her shoulders and back — and the makeup was simple. She wasn't a woman for makeup. But this time, she wore red lipstick and the faintest glitter eyeshadow.

She felt like a doll. It was stupid, a thing she liked to imagine how it would feel like back then — in the Red Room, where the girls wore black uniforms — grey sometimes, but always robotic, always calculated. It was a comforting feeling, which made her want to go back in time and tell little Natalia: yes! we are older now, and we are all dolled up for the date of our dreams.

Natasha arrived early — of course she did. She always did. She chose a seat by the window, her back to the wall, a vantage point where she could see everyone coming and going. Her heart wasn’t racing, but there was a slight tension in her chest. She sipped her coffee slowly, the warm bitterness grounding her as she kept an eye on the door. Then, you walked in.

Her doubting thoughts flew away the moment the green eyes landed on you.

She recognized you instantly. Your smile was smaller in person but somewhat warmer, more genuine. You scanned the room briefly before your eyes landed on her, and for a moment, Natasha thought she saw your breath catch. She softly smirks, gaze involuntarily daring.

Come and get me. This? Is all for you.

She shaked that thought away as she watched you approach her table — your clothes, your style, your body language — she scanned it all. The Black Widow wasn't an easy woman to conquer, which made her dump most of the people that tried to hit on her in the past. You were a rare exception, someone who didn't even have to try to make her heart race. It happened in it’s own.

“You made it,” Natasha said, standing to greet you, to give you a quick hug — the subtle press of your body against hers making her skin tingle. Damn it. She adjusted her dress before sitting back down. You did the same, sitting in front of her.

“Of course I did. This date was all I could think about,” you reply, eyes drinking her in, like she was the prettiest woman to exist. She truly was. “No. Let me rephrase. Seeing you was all I could think about.”

Natasha lets out a soft laugh, shifting her gaze towards the floor. She was so pale that the fact that she was blushing was, unfortunately, evident.

“Feels good to finally hear your voice,” she says, resting her chin on her hand as she stares at you. “In person. Not in audio messages or calls.”

After ordering pastries and more coffee for the both of you, the conversation flowed easily, from the usual mundane topics to little jokes that made Natasha chuckle softly. She found herself studying you more and more, the way you gestured when you spoke, the way your eyes lit up when you laughed.

Eventually, the question came.

“So, what’s it like?” you asked, your voice gentle but curious. “Being an Avenger?”

Natasha paused, her fingers brushing the edge of her coffee cup. She had expected this, of course. She knew it would come up. She couldn't simply hide, not when her face had shown up on TV so many times. But if necessary, she would say that this wasn't what she wanted to be anymore. Not with you. She simply wanted to be herself around you, and not the superhero.

She wasn't Natasha who assaulted T'challa. Wasn’t the Sokovia Accords breaker. She hoped you knew by now.

“It’s… complicated,” she said after a moment, her tone measured. “Not as glamorous as it looks on TV, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You smiled. “I’m sure. But it’s still something, isn’t it? Saving the world, fighting alongside legends.”

A faint, nostalgic smile tugged at her lips. “It was something, yeah. But it wasn’t always about saving the world.” Her gaze softened as she thought back. “There was this time when Tony installed this AI in the kitchen — Friday’s cousin or something — to help us cook. It ended up burning everything it touched. Clint started calling it ‘Flamebot,’ and Steve…” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Steve tried to fix it, of course. Said it was ‘worth saving.’”

You laughed, and Natasha found herself smiling more openly. She was rambling.

“And Thor,” she continued, “he once mistook a microwave for some kind of… magical contraption. He tried to ‘summon its power’ with Mjolnir.”

“Did it work?” you teased.

Natasha smirked. “No, but we had to get a new microwave.”

The nostalgia warmed her, but it also left her feeling melancholic. She missed them. Not the missions or the battles, but the team — the messy, dysfunctional family they had become. You seemed to notice the shift in her mood and didn’t push further. Instead, you leaned in slightly, your voice soft.

“I can tell you miss them,” you said.

Natasha nodded, her walls lowering just a fraction. “Yeah. I do.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, realizing she needed some cheering up. This was supposed to be a happy day, not one to bring up sad memories. So you opened your bag, pulling out of it your camera — which made Natasha's eyes brighten up.

“You brought it!” she exclaims. “I almost forgot that you're a photographer,”

“I thought of the possibility of having to register this moment. And I was absolutely right. You look.. beautiful isn't enough to describe it,” you deeply sigh, as if surrendering to her, to this feeling of being completely in love. “Can I please take a picture of you?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. “A picture of me?” she asked, her tone teasing. “You know that’s dangerous, right? What if you decide to sell it to the tabloids?”

You laughed softly, looking at her like a lovesick puppy, shaking your head. “I’m not interested in fame, Nat. Just in you.”

That made her pause, her smirk faltering for just a second. It wasn’t often she heard something so direct, so sincere. She tilted her head, studying you with those piercing green eyes, as if trying to gauge if you meant it.

“Alright,” she said finally, leaning back in her chair. “But only if it’s a good angle. No pressure.”

You grinned, lifting the camera and adjusting the settings with practiced ease. “No such thing as a bad angle with you.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, but the blush dusting her cheeks just got worse. She straightened up, her posture relaxed yet commanding, exuding that natural grace and power.

“Like this?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, a hint of amusement in her voice.

You brought your chair closer, lowering the camera for a moment. “No. Don’t pose,” you said quietly. “Just be yourself.”

That caught her off guard. Her brow furrowed slightly, and she shifted in her seat, unsure of what to do with herself for once.

“Be myself, huh?” she murmured.

You nodded, lifting the camera again. “Exactly. I don’t need the Black Widow. I want Nat.”

Her lips parted slightly at your words, and for a fleeting moment, the mask she wore every day seemed to slip. Her shoulders relaxed, her head tilted to the side, and a genuine, very shy smile spread across her face. “I-”

Before she could protest, the shutter clicked, capturing her in that rare, unguarded moment. “Perfect,” you murmured, lowering the camera and meeting her gaze.

Natasha shook her head, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“Only the good kind,” you replied with a grin, setting the camera down.

She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand again as she studied you. “So, do I get to see it? Or are you keeping me in suspense?”

You turned the camera around, showing her the photo on the screen. Her expression softened as she took it in — the warmth in her eyes, the slight tilt of her head, the way the light framed her face, her rosy cheeks. It wasn’t just a picture. It was a glimpse of who she really was, beyond the layers of secrecy and survival. It was simply her, away from espionage, having coffee with her date.

Her unforgettable trip to Norway.

“It’s… good,” she said quietly, her voice almost hesitant.

“Good?” you ask. “It’s stunning. Just like my model.”

Oh, that…

The way you emphasized the word ‘my’.. the way you were making her feel.. actually precious. She was trapped.

“Alright,” she said, sitting back. “You’ve had your fun. Now tell me, do I at least get a copy?”

You laughed, nodding. “Of course. But only if you promise to go easy on me when I take more later.”

She smirks, her confidence returning. “We’ll see about that.”

As the evening wore, the sky showed a beautiful indigo, stars twinkling just like the sparkles in both of your sets of eyes. Natasha allowed herself to relax. To bask in this kind of normalcy that she never had the chance to experience. She had seen a lot, lived a lot. She knew what people could do in response to fear. She saw war and hatred, she saw coldness and cruelty. But from now on, she could live in a lighter way — like her heart was finally at peace.

“Should we get going?” you asked as the people also started to leave, standing and offering her a hand.

Natasha hesitated for half a second before taking it. Your touch was warm, steady, grounding, and promising. As you stepped outside, the cool air of Oslo wrapped around you. The city lights flickered like stars. Natasha felt a strange sense of calm. When she felt your arm enveloping her shoulders, her breath hitched, but she didn’t let it show — leaning into you gently.

“Where to now?” she asked, glancing at you.

“Well, the hotel, if you’re up for it,” you replied, your tone playful but not pushing.

That playfulness was a disguise for more surprises that awaited her back into the hotel room you were hosted in.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

When you unlocked the door to the hotel you're staying in, Natasha followed you inside, her steps hesitant, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The space was warm and inviting, even if it wasn't a fixed place — especially after knowing you for a good while now — tons of polaroids laying across the bed, portraits, some funko pops that you bought recently. But what caught her attention almost immediately was the bouquet of flowers resting on the counter, tied together with a simple ribbon.

Her brows furrowed slightly as she turned to you, her lips parting in surprise. She didn't even have time to look around the place. “What’s this?” she asked softly, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and vulnerability.

You stepped past her, picking up the bouquet and holding it out to her with a smile. “These are for you,” you said.

Natasha blinked, momentarily stunned. Her fingers brushed against yours as she took the bouquet, her touch delicate, as though the flowers were something precious. She examined them quietly — deep purple irises mingled with soft yellow sunflowers and a few sprigs of white heather.

“So you’re a hopeless romantic.. you didn’t take them to the café. What made you so sure I would come back to your place?”

You shrugged, leaning casually against the counter. “I wasn’t sure,” you admitted, meeting her gaze with an honesty that made her pause. “But I hoped you would. And, well, I wanted them to be a surprise. It felt more personal this way.”

Natasha glanced down at the flowers again, her fingers gently brushing over the petals. “You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

“I thought you were worth the effort,” you said simply, the sincerity in your voice making her blink rapidly, as though she was trying to process it.

Natasha smiled as she shook her head lightly, trying to dismiss the overwhelming feeling creeping up on her. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You chuckled, stepping closer. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She tilted her head, her green eyes studying you with a mixture of curiosity and warmth. “It is,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to,” you interrupted softly, stepping closer. “You deserve something beautiful. Something that shows how incredible you are, even if you can’t always see it yourself.”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. The Avenger, the unshakable spy, was speechless.

Natasha turned to face you fully, the bouquet forgotten for a moment as she searched your face. It was almost desperate, how she tried to find reassurance, anything that told her that her past wasn't a problem. “You… you don’t even know the half of it,” she murmured.

“Maybe not,” you admitted. “But I want to. Every part of it, Nat. I want to know you.”

For a long moment, she just stared at you, as if trying to decide whether she could let her walls down one more time. Talking through an app was easier. In person felt way too serious. And then, with a deep, trembling breath, she set the bouquet back on the table and closed the distance between you.

She walked with determination, her chest lightly touching yours as her hands found their way to the back of your neck. Her fingernails softly scratched in between the hair strands. She didn't know what to say — she didn't want to say anything. In this very second, she simply wanted to feel. Feel what she never had the privilege to feel as the years passed, because yes, this felt like a privilege. She stood on her tiptoes to press herself closer, doe green eyes pleading.

They told you everything, and you didn't need to be passed the message twice. Your right hand cupped her cheek as the left one wrapped around her waist, bringing her even closer.

She was an angel. Not a deadly spy. A sweet angel to be taken care of. To have her needs satisfied and tears wiped away.

As Natasha felt you responding, she allowed her eyes to close.. basking in the darkness, wanting to be enveloped by this only one sensation. This soft, intense sensation of your lips against hers, moving in a way that wasn't rushed, but wasn't too deliberate either — your hands gripping her waist and bunching the fabric of her jacket, maneuvering her back against the counter. Holding onto your shoulders, she sat on the countertop, welcoming your body between her legs. The kiss lasted. She softly whimpered as she felt your tongue brushing against her bottom lip, asking for entrance, for more of her. And she allowed it. Her head tilted to the side, moving in sync with you — as your tongues danced, a dance she hadn’t discovered before.

Needing air, you pull away, foreheads resting against one another as you deeply inhale, messily. It was torture to stop kissing her, she was good. But air was necessary. Calming down, your arms circle her waist. A smile makes its way to your lips as you see the state she was in. Flushed. And…

“I think your lipstick is a little smudged,”

Natasha felt that — every nerve of her skin was burning, including the parts with the messy makeup. She lets out a huff of air and clears her throat, trying to find her voice so she could respond.

“That was…” she whispers, her hands cradling your jaw. “Wow,”

“You are ‘wow’,” you whisper, using your thumb to wipe away the red lipstick from the corners of her lips, fixing it. “You are perfect,”

“I'm not that- I'm not,” she nervously giggled, humming as you finished fixing her up. She shifted on the countertop, her legs pressing around your hips, as if afraid of you leaving.

“I wish I could give you my set of eyes,” your hands travel down to her thighs, feeling the slightly rough fabric of her tights, but that didn't make her skin any less smoother to the touch.

Her dress was basically all the way up her hips at this point, something she hadn't paid the necessary attention to, due being too busy making out with you — and in the pit of her stomach, a small flicker of panic started rising. This was reckless, so reckless. It is not like she didn’t think of the possibility of things escalating while coming back to the hotel with you, but in her head, she would have more control over the situation — and with that, manage to keep her secrets uncovered.

But she didn’t. Her body was reacting in its own and her mind was cloudy. She had zero control.

Before you could even touch the zipper of her dress, Natasha froze. Her breathing hitched — barely noticeable if you weren’t paying attention, but you were. Her hands, which had been so confident just moments ago, trembled as they pressed gently against your chest.

“Wait,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if it might shatter if spoken any louder. “Just.. give me a second,” she muttered, avoiding your gaze as she detangled from your grasp, getting off the counter and hurrying to the bathroom.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoed through the quiet room. Natasha leaned against the sink, gripping its edges so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her reflection stared back at her — flushed cheeks, wide eyes, red marks staining the corners of her lips.

Why did she have to choose a matte lipstick?

Her fingers brushed against her side, over the spot where the bullet scar lay. She had hidden it from you before, in that photo. It had seemed harmless at the time — a small deception to preserve the image of herself she wanted you to see. But now, in the raw intimacy of this moment, it felt like a betrayal.

She turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto her face in an attempt to calm the storm raging inside her. She couldn’t lose this moment — not to her own fears, not to a scar that was just one more piece of her long and painful past. But how could she explain it? How could she show you this part of her without ruining everything?

Natasha pressed her hands to her face, inhaling deeply. It’s just a scar, she told herself. It doesn’t define me. It doesn’t change who I am.

Except that it does. And a small tear rolls down her cheek.

You’re not in the Red Room anymore, she reminded herself, gripping the sink harder. And this person… they’re different. They don’t expect you to be perfect. They just want you.

The doubt, the fears that you managed to keep away from her in the past month, came back to her — only a thousand times more painful.

Regardless, Natasha didn't have any more time to think, before she heard the doorknob turning, the damn door she didn't lock opening. She kept her head low, her body stiff as she continued to hold onto the sink. You could see her reflection in the mirror clearly. The fact that she was silently shedding tears.

“You're crying,” you state quietly, taking baby steps towards her.

“And you're bold,” she chuckles, the sound a mixture of tears and sarcasm. She sniffles, using her arm to wipe her nose. “Entering like that.”

“You're crying.” you shake your head, once again standing face to face with her. You reach out your hands and cup her tear stained cheeks. “What's wrong?”

“I…” she debated what to tell you. That she was afraid of physical intimacy since she was young? Or that she hid a crucial thing about her body all this time? “I don't know-”

“You’re hiding something from me and are afraid I’m gonna hate you?” you inquire, voice serious — not mocking, not pressuring.

What?

Her eyes go wide instantly, the tears stopping. You wipe them away from her cheeks, expression softening again as you prepared to explain yourself. “You’re part of a New Yorker superheroes team. There was absolutely nothing that spoke about your personality in SparkMatch, which is expected, Nat. I’m aware that there’s a lot that I don’t know about you. I know where I’m getting myself into.”

“For the longest time, all I wanted was company. Someone to talk to, to listen to me, and that I could listen to them. Someone to see me,” she quietly confesses, leaning her cheeks into your palms. “You did just that. You’re that person.. you filled a huge void in me. You saved me in more ways that you could ever know.”

“I’m so grateful for that.” you lean closer, pressing a lingering kiss against her forehead. She shyly wrapped her arms around your waist, her eyes searching yours once more.

“It’s not just that…” she adds, her breath hitching. She was now determined to continue from where you left off on the entrance counter. “I longed- I long for.. touches, and..”

“And closeness,” you complete, head dipping down and tucking itself into the crook of her neck. “Geez, you smell delicious,”

“It’s… Twilly D’Hermès,” breathless, Natasha speaks, a small hint of pride in her tone as she spoke about her moisturizing cream. “My body lotion,”

It wasn’t cheap, but she liked to spoil herself sometimes. It was also great to deal with the constant bruises and cuts on her skin. Your brows raise in surprise, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips. Natasha could feel the warmth of your breath on her neck, a surge of happiness and ecstasy washing over her.

“That’s.. pretty luxurious, one can say.”

“Can’t a woman spoil herself sometimes?” she retorts — interrupted by a gasp that left her as your lips pressed against her neck. Her eyes flutter shut, her hands holding onto your arms as she did her best to keep talking. “B-Besides, years of bruises and burns require good skincare.”

“I see,” you hum, nuzzling into her, into the spot behind her ear. She felt soft today. Now you knew the reason. After staying like that for a while, you pull back, looking into her eyes with a gaze that showed admiration, respect and concern towards her comfort. “Can I?”

She deeply inhales, feeling you reach for her dress again — only more mindfully now. Shrugging her jacket off her shoulders, she places it next to her on the sink and nods.

She was prepared for the question.

“Okay, hold on.” you kneel down, beginning to untie her boots, catching her by surprise. You remove them and place them aside, before slowly pulling down her tights. “Damn. Why did you have to wear something so complicated?”

“I wanted to feel beautiful,” she quietly chuckles, allowing you to get rid of the excessive fabric on her body.

So, it's time for the dress. You got up to your feet and slid your palm up her spine, holding onto the zipper and then pulling it down. Natasha was expectant, self aware, but mainly, consumed by her desire — finally awake again.

“I'll make you feel beautiful,” you nod, pushing the dress straps off her shoulders and sliding them down her arms.

“You already do.” She breathes.

She doesn't stop you from getting her off the dress. But when it stops below her hips, she tenses up. That's because she sees you freezing. To look at her. It's strange, to have someone look at her body with no apparent emotion. You didn't look at her as if she were a prize to win — an object, or a weapon. Helping her step off the dress, you toss it aside on the floor. Now nothing was disturbing you from taking her in. Her black underwear. Her toned muscles — which you assumed were from years of workout. And her scars. Cuts, a few small keloids, and the bullet scar.

“You didn’t have to hide this from me.” you breathe, dropping to your knees once more as you held her by the hips. She found herself leaning against the sink’s counter, breathing ragged, every nerve of her body buzzing in anticipation. “Makes you even more gorgeous.”

“I—”

“You're fucking gorgeous.” you hiss, kissing above the place that once had a bullet in.

Yup. Her dreams came true.

“Please,” she murmurs, not knowing how to vocalize what she wanted. But the heat pooling between her thighs told you everything.

Your lips make a path from her hip down to her pelvic bone, right hand grabbing her thigh and putting it on your shoulder — coaxing a gasp out of her. Your palm covers her scar, as though it were something precious about herself — making her feel safe, above everything. Natasha, for a moment, almost lost her balance — having to hold her weight with one foot — as your pointer finger hooked around the soaked fabric of her panties, pulling it to the side. You gave her one look. One look before diving in.

You are no longer alone.

She took the message. And her world exploded.

Your tongue working on her — licking past her folds, tasting her — as if committing to memory, and not just using her — her slender fingers tangling into your hair, pulling your head closer to her core, soft moans leaving her mouth as if there was no tomorrow.

“Yes,” She gasps, her hips bucking, seeking more of the kitten licks you showered her clitoris with. “Don't stop.”

None of her sexual experiences had been good in the past — not in the slightest. So having something so good, so pleasuring — it was truly her first.

In the Norwegian hotel, Natasha was more Avenged than she ever was with the Avengers. In the end of the night, she ended up with you on the bed — your clothes making each other company on the floor, as she lost herself — in your body, your scent, your hands on her,

and your love for her.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

You were tucked under the covers when the bathroom's door opened — the hot steam of her recent shower now dispersing and mingling with the air. You sat up, leaning against the headboard as you watched her with a smile.

Natasha walked towards you, the white hotel's towel in her hands, drying her damp hair. She was wearing a t-shirt you lent her, which was probably three times her size. She was smiling. Happily.

Before climbing back onto the bed, she absentmindedly placed the wet towel on an armchair. She gently settled onto your lap, straddling your hips, her head instantly nesting on your shoulder.

“Hi, baby.” you embrace her.

“If I have to leave the country, for any reasons,” she says, her hands tracing random patterns on your back. “Will you come with me?”

“I'll go anywhere with you.” you reply, voice unwavering.

She released the air she didn't know she was holding, and allows herself to relax her sore body. She nuzzled closer as you played with her still damp hair.

Maybe dating apps weren't so bad, after all. If she ever saw her team or Tony again, she would thank him for making her install it.

“Oh, and by the way,”

Natasha whispers, finally. Probably, you were aware. But it was one more thing about her true self she wanted you to know.

“My name is Natalia.”

Hotel California | Track 14 : Between the Stars

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 5.7k

Chapter 14/18

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: This is a span of a couple days in their lives.

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

You're sitting in the hair and makeup chair with Cece, your stylist, and a lifelong friend, and you’re kind of nervous. You thought you could handle things like this. After all, you’ve been around Hollywood’s elite for most of your life. You’re a decent performer, a great publicist, and you’ve always been good at working a room. Public speaking? No problem. Memorizing a script or delivering a speech? Easy. You’d probably do well at the whole celebrity thing. So, why does this have you on edge?

This press run has been something out of a dream—an opportunity for which you’re genuinely grateful. But still, your nerves buzz under your skin. You’d had a taste of fame before, back when you won that Grammy for songwriting, but this? This feels different. Your frontal lobe’s fully developed now. You’re painfully aware of every word, every glance, every judgment. And this time, the spotlight isn’t on your work. It’s on you—and something as personal as your relationship.

You try to focus as Cece chats about some new trend on a social media app you’re not even on. Her hands move precisely, sectioning your hair while Cole, your makeup artist, preps your skin. The two of them work in sync, and you feel utterly pampered. Every brushstroke and spritz is meant to make you shine. But even under their care, the knot in your stomach doesn’t unravel.

You smile at Cece’s story, pretending to keep up, but your mind wanders. You remind yourself you’re here for a reason.

Promote the single. Promote Velvet Rebellion's new album.

******

The softly lit studio is quiet and intimate. The setup is personal— a solid background, two chairs angled toward each other, and a table between them. Natasha is already sitting, effortlessly poised. She leaned back in her chair, the picture of laid-back confidence. Her faded red Rolling Stones shirt peeked out from under a well-loved leather jacket, paired with black jeans that clung just right and boots that had seen some stories. Everything about her was effortless, cool, and completely her. You couldn't hide your approval of the outfit as you complimented her.

"You look so good, baby," you cooed. "I love the leather."

She smiled at the compliment and watched as you sat down.

"Thank you," she said. "And you," she continued, "You look like a fucking dream. As always."

You wore a fitted button-down with rolled sleeves and wide-leg pants. There was just enough cleavage to be tempting, but it was the way the shirt hugged your curves and the pants draped around your ass that had her eyes glued to you.

"You know, we need to go shopping together more often," you said, "If you're going to show up looking this good."

"Well, it's not like you don't look good in everything." She paused for a moment.

"You're such a charmer," You laughed. "Shall we get into this whole interview thing?"

Natasha smirked, "Let's. Do you want to go first, or shall I?"

"Oh, you should start." You said. "Since you're the famous one."

Natasha let out a laugh, "Alright, famous one it is. " She shuffled her cards around. "Can your partner cook? What's their favorite dish?"

"Hmm, it's a little debatable whether or not you can cook yet," you answered. "You have some potential, but I don't think you've mastered anything."

"I'm getting there."

"Well, you've gotten a lot better. Anyway, your favorite is mac and cheese. Kraft, to be specific."

"It's comfort food."

"Yes, yes. I know," You looked at the camera. "She's lectured me on it a few times since I don't consider it a meal."

"And she's wrong," Nat said.

"Let's move on," You grinned. "What's their favorite TV show?" You took a moment to think. "Hmm, I think Natasha loves The Nanny. That's a classic, and we watch it together some nights. Right now, she's binging Sons of Anarchy."

"And what's yours?"

"Ooh, I'm a little embarrassed to say it. Mine's Pretty Little Liars. I know, I know. It's a bit juvenile, but there's no shame in guilty pleasure shows."

Natasha smiled, "I've seen an episode or two. Not my thing, but I can appreciate a good plot line."

"I guess the next question is," Nat continued. "Who's more likely to be late?"

"Natasha is."

"And Y/n is." She countered.

"Okay, okay. Maybe we're both a little late sometimes," You said. "Ohh, this is a deep one. How's your partner's relationship with their siblings? I guess we can answer for each other."

"You talk to your brother at least once a week, and I know you miss him," She tilted her head. "Your sister, you're quite close to her, too. I haven't met either of them yet, as they're both on opposite ends of the world."

"Yes, Chandra is in New York being her hot fashion model self," you nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Michael is somewhere in Europe right now with his wife and kids. They're travelers. Natasha's pretty close to her little sister, too. I think we both have pretty solid family units."

"Next question," Natasha said, glancing down at her cue card with a playful smirk. "Favorite quality about your partner. This one's easy for me. Y/n is incredibly supportive and nurturing. She's also a little badass. It's a sexy combination. I love that she can go from a power suit and killer heels to leggings and a messy bun in minutes and still be the same beautiful, confident, and powerful person. When we got together, I was attracted to her confidence and brains. She's still the same person she was when we first met—no Hollywood surprises with her."

"Wow, Tash," you said with a smile that softened your entire face. "You're too sweet. I don’t know how you do it, but somehow, you always make me melt." You paused, glancing at Natasha with a quiet reverence. "For me, Natasha is kind. And I don’t just mean she’s a nice person. There are perceptions you have when dating someone of status—whether they're a musician, athlete, or executive. Natasha is not only kind and considerate, but she’s humble. She’s real. What I love most about her is how she makes me feel safe. Not just physically safe but emotionally. I know I can tell her anything, and she won’t judge me or hurt me. She’ll always be honest with me. I think that’s why her music resonates so much. Especially our single, Obvious."

The perfect tie-in to the song—a natural choice and one that felt authentic coming from you. It left Natasha glowing, her smile stretching just a little wider.

"You're making me blush," She teased.

"I'm not even done yet," You smiled. "Natasha is smart. She is not just book-smart; she has a way of reading people that I find fascinating. And she's thoughtful. She thinks about the little things—like getting me a drink or bringing me my favorite candy after a long day at work. Or leave me a little note with my coffee in the morning."

Natasha looked bashful for a moment.

"You're one to talk," she said. "Y/n is... she's everything."

She reached over and grabbed your hand, squeezing gently.

"I can't believe I'm so lucky to call her mine."

You gave her a wistful smile. "This whole interview is going to be a love fest."

"I don't mind," Nat grinned. “I’m sure the fans won’t either.”

"Me neither." You shuffled your cards. "I don't remember whose turn it is. What are your significant other's vices?"

"Oh boy," Natasha said. "She has a lot."

"I do not!"

"Okay, you don't. But let's see if we're talking about the good ones. She'll eat any sweets. Any. I'm surprised her teeth aren't rotten by now. And she can drink anyone under the table, no matter how hard they try."

"I've seen her get through an entire bottle of vodka and still sing the entirety of 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' perfectly," you said.

"Y/n doesn't have many bad habits. But, if I had to pick one, I'd say she likes to sleep in."

"I'd argue with that, but that's not a vice," You said. "My biggest vice is staying up too late. And sleeping in," You admitted, earning a laugh from Natasha.

"It's a miracle we get any sleep together," Natasha quipped.

"Alright, alright," You chuckled. "Favorite feature about your partner?"

"Oh, this is the one that made me pick these cards," She grinned.

"Is that so?"

"It is," Nat confirmed. "I don't know if I can pick a favorite. But if I had to choose, I'd say her smile. It lights up the room."

You were smiling, but not as wide as when she'd answered the question.

"That's sweet," You sighed. "I thought you were going to say my ass."

"I can't not say it, babe," Natasha said. "Your ass is... wow. It's a work of art."

"Well, I'll take that," You laughed.

"What's mine?" She asked.

"Easy," You replied. "Your eyes."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely. They're so expressive. Like, I can tell how you're feeling without even hearing you. And they're so green."

"That's the second time today you've made me blush," Natasha said with a small, sheepish smile, brushing a thumb over the edge of her cue card.

"Oh, there's a lot more where that came from," you teased, grinning as you shifted slightly in your seat. "We're only halfway through this interview."

"I'm not complaining," Natasha replied, the corners of her lips quirking up. She glanced down at the next question. "Next question. What is something your partner does that drives you crazy?"

"You know, it's funny," you started, tilting your head as you thought about it. "Natasha is so quiet at home. She's like a little cat that sneaks up on you. In another life, she could be a spy or something."

Natasha's laugh was warm and unguarded. "You know I've had a few offers."

"No kidding."

"No, seriously," she said, leaning forward slightly, her tone suddenly playful but sincere. "A few of my friends in the business have suggested it. But that's not something I'd do."

"Why not?" you asked, curiosity lighting up your face.

"Because I wouldn’t want to keep secrets," Natasha explained, her voice softening. "From you. From my family. Friends. I'm a pretty open book."

"Yeah, that's understandable."

The rest of the interview went smoothly, with questions and answers flowing easily. It was fun, and it was comfortable. By the time you finished, you felt more confident and at ease.

When the cameras stopped rolling and the lights were turned off, you stood, smoothing your shirt before contacting Natasha.

"Good job, babe," You said.

"You, too."

She hugged you, wrapping her arms around you and pressing her lips against your temple.

"Thank you," she murmured.

You closed your eyes and breathed in her scent, letting it wash over you, calming the butterflies in your stomach.

"What do you think?"

"I think we did well," Natasha replied.

"So, I did okay? My public speaking skills haven't gone completely out the window?"

"I was worried about nothing," Natasha said, a gentle chuckle escaping her.

"Oh, shut up," You rolled your eyes.

"I mean it. You did great."

"Thanks, Tash."

She smiled and leaned in to kiss you. You responded immediately, your lips parting slightly, letting her taste their sweetness.

"Hey," she murmured. "Let's get out of here. I want to spend some alone time with my girl."

You couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips, and you squeezed her hand.

"That sounds perfect."

"Not so fast, you two," Mitch stopped the both of you. "I still have a few TikTok posts that our social media manager wants to do."

"Seriously?"

"Sorry, it's not that bad," Mitch said. "You know the drill, Natasha. Let's get this over with. Then, you can go home and enjoy the rest of your night."

"Alright," Natasha agreed. "I'm going to have a drink after this," She said, pulling out her phone. "Let's do this."

Back in the dressing room is where the magic began.

You leaned against the wall, arms crossed loosely, as Natasha rolled her eyes with good-natured exasperation. Mitch handed her the phone, already queued up with the latest TikTok trend featuring one of the songs from Velvet Rebellion's album.

"This one’s easy," Ellisa, the social media manager for Velvet Rebellion, said, demonstrating a quick series of gestures. Natasha raised a skeptical brow at Mitch, watching the screen like she was analyzing a mission briefing.

"I feel like I’m too old for this," she muttered, passing the phone back to Elissa.

"You’re not old, Tash," you teased. "You’re seasoned. There’s a difference."

She shot you a mock glare, but the slight smirk on her lips gave her away. "Careful, or you’ll be joining me in this dance."

You laughed and held up your hands. "No way. I’m just here for moral support—and to thoroughly enjoy watching you do this."

Natasha sighed dramatically but started moving, mimicking the dance as best she could. Her moves were precise but slightly stiff, her usual grace overshadowed by the awkward rhythm of trying to keep up with a trend meant for teenagers.

"Is this even right?" she asked, glancing at Mitch.

"Close enough," Mitch replied, barely holding back a laugh.

You couldn’t help it; you started giggling; the sight of Natasha—usually so calm and composed—fumbling through exaggerated arm movements and head bobs was pure gold.

"Stop laughing!" she said, her voice laced with amusement as she paused mid-dance to point at you.

"I can’t help it! You’re just… too serious about it."

She cracked then, laughing along with you. "I’m serious because I don’t want this to haunt me on the internet forever."

"Trust me, no one’s going to be laughing at you," you said, still smiling. "Except maybe me. Forever."

Natasha finally finished the dance, breathing a relieved "Thank God" as Mitch nodded in approval.

"Perfect. That’s a wrap," Mitch said, pocketing the phone.

Natasha walked over to you, shaking her head. "You enjoyed that way too much."

"Every second of it," you admitted, still grinning. "But you looked adorable."

"Adorable wasn’t the vibe I was going for," she said, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Well, too bad. It suits you."

*********

A simple coffee run wasn’t simple. Not when you were Natasha Romanoff. Even something as mundane as picking up her favorite drink from the shop down the street turned into an event. Cameras clicked. Voices called out. There was no privacy, no room for messy buns or sweatpants. Not when every step outside was under public scrutiny.

Natasha walked out of the little café with a drink carrier in one hand; her leather jacket pulled snugly against the chill. Her sunglasses shielded her eyes, but you could tell by the slight furrow in her brow that the swarm of paparazzi wasn’t something she could just shrug off today.

You stayed close, matching her pace, your hands tucked into your jacket pockets. Talking wasn’t an option. Not with the cameras so close, their lenses hovering like vultures. Still, the brush of her shoulder against yours was enough.

"Natasha! Over here!" One of them shouted, their voice cutting through the air. She didn’t turn.

Another chimed in, louder, more deliberate. "Natasha, how do you feel about Carol being out of rehab? Are you going to visit her?"

Natasha's jaw ticked, and you immediately knew it was a sore subject. You lead her over to her car, opening the door for her letting her duck inside while you tossed her things into the back seat.

You ignored them, keeping your focus on Natasha.

"They really can't help themselves, can they?" She muttered as you slid into the passenger seat, her gaze fixed on the window.

"No," You replied. "But you don't have to talk to them."

She let out a dry laugh, the sound hollow and bitter.

"Yeah, I know."

She took a long sip of her iced coffee to calm her nerves. Natasha shifted into drive, her jaw tightening slightly as she carefully maneuvered out of the café parking lot, avoiding one particularly bold photographer who refused to move out of the way.

You watched her grip the wheel a little tighter than necessary. "Tash," you said gently, glancing at the phone lighting up on the console. "Your phone’s ringing. It’s your mom."

She sighed, hitting the button to connect the call through the car’s speakers. Melina Vostokoff's familiar voice filled the car almost immediately.

"Too busy for your mother, I see," Melina teased.

"No, of course not, Ma," Natasha replied, shaking her head even though Melina couldn’t see her. "My schedule’s pretty clear for the next couple of days. We just have a couple more rehearsals later this week."

"Good, good," Melina said, and you could practically hear the wheels turning in her mind. "I’m calling because I wanted to ask about your new girlfriend. You didn’t tell me you were seeing someone!"

Natasha visibly stiffened, her eyes flicking to you for a split second before returning to the road. Meanwhile, you tried—and failed—to stifle a laugh, biting your lip as Melina’s voice continued, full of motherly curiosity.

"So, what does she do? Is she nice? Where did you meet her? Does she like borscht?" Melina fired off the questions with practiced ease, leaving no room for Natasha to respond.

You raised an eyebrow at Natasha, silently daring her to answer. Natasha sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"Ma, slow down," she said, exasperation laced with affection. "She’s—"

"Does she cook? Does she get along with you-know-who? Does she have any bad habits I should know about? Natasha, you know I need to approve!"

That did it. You couldn’t hold back the laugh bubbling up in your chest, which slipped out before you could stop it. Melina, of course, didn’t miss it.

"Who’s laughing? Natasha, are you with her right now?"

Natasha sighed again, with a resigned smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, Ma," she admitted, glancing at you as you tried to compose yourself. "She’s right here. Sitting next to me."

Melina paused for half a beat before exclaiming, "Natasha! Why didn’t you say so sooner? Let me talk to her!"

Natasha groaned, leaning her head back against the seat for a moment. "Here we go," she muttered under her breath, shooting you an amused yet apologetic look.

You grinned, leaning closer to the speaker. "Hi, Melina. It’s nice to meet you... well, kind of."

"Ah, so this is the mysterious girlfriend," Melina said, her tone instantly warmer. "I have so many questions for you!"

"Okay, Ma, go easy on her," Natasha warned.

"Nonsense," Melina scoffed. "If I have questions, I want answers. Now, Y/n, tell me, where are you from?"

You took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the interrogation. "I was born and raised in Sherman Oaks, Los Angeles. Though I lived in Paris for a few years in middle school."

"Oh, wow, Paris," Melina said, sounding impressed. "How lovely. Did you live in the city, or were you more in the suburbs?"

"The city," you replied. "It was quite a change from L.A."

"And your family? Where did they go to school?"

"My parents both attended UCLA," You answered. "And my sister and I graduated from USC."

"Ah, a Bruin," Melina hummed, clearly pleased. "Very impressive."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Please, call me Melina," she insisted. "Or Ma, like my daughter does. Do you have any children?"

"Yes, I do, one she recently turned 10," you replied.

"Ten years old?" Melina mused. "So, she's probably in school now, yes?"

"Yeah, she is."

"I've done some research on you," Melina said. "So I've known most of those answers."

"Really, Ma?"

"You'd be surprised by the things I can find out about people, Natasha," Melina replied, a hint of a smirk in her voice.

"I don't doubt that," You chuckled.

"Natasha has a tour stop where I'm living currently," Melina said excitedly. "Hopefully, you will be over soon. And you will bring the child, yes?"

"If my schedule allows," you promised.

"You’ll make it work," Melina said with certainty. "I’ll even cook. Natasha can tell you I make the best borscht."

Natasha groaned softly, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. "Ma, don’t scare her off."

"Oh, please," Melina replied. "She doesn’t seem easily scared. I like her already."

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest as Melina’s approval seemed to settle between the three of you. Natasha glanced at you, her gaze softening momentarily before she refocused on the road.

"Well, it’s settled then," Melina added. "You’ll come, and we’ll have a proper family dinner."

"I’ll hold you to that," you replied with a grin.

******

Watching a movie in the middle of the day started harmless enough.

After a morning full of errands and lunch with your friends, you had returned home and decided to spend the rest of the day curled up on the couch. It was supposed to be a quiet, relaxing afternoon, but having Natasha so close did things to you. This time, you were the big spoon, lying behind her with your hand on her belly. The shared body heat made her warm, and it wasn't long before she'd pressed her ass into you. She could probably later say it was innocent. She was only trying to get settled. Your breasts pressed into her back was also an accident. She wasn't trying to rub her ass all over you. But the little sighs that were coming from her mouth were unmistakable.

"You okay?" You murmured in her ear, nipping at the lobe.

"Hmmmm," Natasha hummed, leaning back into you.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked, sliding your hand underneath her shirt, your fingers drawing patterns across the skin of her belly.

"Nothing, just nice having you here," She said. "We never spend time at my apartment."

"You're right," You agreed, pressing your lips against her temple. "It's nice."

Natasha tilted her head back, seeking your mouth. She sighed, the sound muffled as you kissed her, your hand traveling up her ribs. You were so tempted to slide your fingers higher, cup her breast in your hand, and feel the weight of her, but you knew that if you did, it would escalate quickly. And you didn't want to be caught up in the throes of passion, naked and writhing against each other on the couch with no warning.

"I like this," You whispered, your fingers tracing the underside of her breast.

"Me, too," She murmured. She seemed to not play into your games, only offering you a bit of leverage to lift her bra underneath her hoodie. Her eyes closed, and her breathing became heavier, her nipple hardening under your touch.

"You're so responsive," You mused, tweaking her nipple. "It's like you're just waiting for someone to touch you."

"Not someone," She replied, her voice low and thick with desire. "Just you."

Her hips moved again, a slow grind as she sought more friction. This felt like the perfect moment to get her hot and bothered. Both of you were fully clothed, and there was no pressure to have sex—just a bit of fun.

"You're such a tease," You chided, twisting her nipple. She bit back a moan, her eyes opening for a moment.

"So are you," She countered.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked again, sliding your fingers to her other breast.

"About what you're doing to me."

"And what am I doing to you?"

"You're getting me all worked up and then not going to do anything about it."

"Oh, I plan to do something about it," You nodded. Your hands trailed down from her belly, and you pressed your knee between her thighs to give you space. You could feel her wetness seeping through her leggings, and it was enough to make your core clench.

"Is that so?" She gasped, arching her back. You kissed whatever part of her body you could find as you rubbed her through her pants.

"Do you like when I do this?" You asked, pushing harder into her.

"Yessss," She hissed, her hips rising.

"Does this turn you on, Tash? Having me fingerfuck you while fully clothed?"

"Shit," She breathed out. "Yes."

"Yeah, me, too."

The material was thick, but you could still feel her body heat, her arousal seeping through. You found a steady rhythm, rocking against her as your fingers pressed against her clit.

"Fuck, that's good," She sighed.

"You're so wet," You marveled. "All from this."

"God, you have no idea," She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut as you kept going, her hips rolling with your movements. "It's so fucking hot." For the next few minutes, there was silence from both of you—the occasional moan from Natasha and groaning on the couch with your movements.

"I want to see how wet you are," You finally spoke, moving the elastic of her leggings. She didn't protest as you pushed them down, leaving her underwear in place. Her legs parted just enough for you to dip your fingers underneath the cotton and into her slick folds.

"Jesus, Tash," You breathed out.

"Don't stop," She begged. "Please."

"I've got you, baby," You promised, finding her clit. You stroked her, keeping her on edge, the wetness coating your fingers. She was practically dripping now.

"I want you to come," You whispered. "Come on my fingers, Tash."

Your words were her undoing. Her body shuddered, her mouth falling open as her orgasm rushed through her.

"Holy shit," She breathed, her voice hoarse and shaky.

"Was it good?" You asked, kissing her jaw.

"So fucking good," She nodded. "God, you're amazing."

"Glad I could help."

She smiled and turned her head to kiss you. "I think I need to repay the favor."

"I would love that," You said. Her kiss was slow and deep, her tongue sliding against yours as her hand snaked behind your head. "I can't believe I get to call you mine." You whispered against her lips.

"Me either," She grinned.

You were about to tell her how lucky you were when the sound of a door opening caused both of you to jump.

"Hey, guys," Wanda called out, strolling into the room with a teasing grin.

You scrambled to help Natasha tug her leggings up, your hands moving as quickly as possible. "Hi," you answered, trying your best to look innocent, even though the heat in your cheeks said otherwise.

"Sorry," Wanda said, holding up a couple of grocery bags as if to explain her presence. "I'm leaving again. Just stopped by to drop these off."

"Okay," Natasha replied, her voice a little too casual as she fought to keep her expression neutral. "Have a good time."

"I will," Wanda said with a smirk, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced between the two of you.

"We're not doing anything," you blurted, raising your hands to prove your innocence.

Wanda’s smirk widened. "Right. Well, don't have too much fun while I'm gone." She gave a knowing look over her shoulder as she left the room.

"Shut up, Wanda," Natasha called after her, rolling her eyes as the door closing signaled her exit. Natasha exhaled heavily, leaning back against the couch. "I really need to think about getting my place soon."

"Or," you countered, raising an eyebrow at her, "you could possibly think about spending more time at my house."

Natasha tilted her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Are you trying to tell me something, or is this just a clever way to avoid interruptions?"

"Maybe both," you teased, leaning in closer. "Think about it. We could have lots of privacy. Lots of time alone."

Natasha hummed thoughtfully, her lips hovering mere centimeters from yours. "I'm thinking about it."

"Yeah?" You grinned, your heart fluttering in your chest.

"Yeah." She nodded. "Though, how would Isabella feel? Or even Sam. With me being there so much."

"You're worried about how my ex-husband would feel with you moving into my house?" You raised a brow.

"Not necessarily," Natasha shrugged. "But I did mention Isabella coming on tour with us, and he wasn't open to the idea."

"You told him about that?"

"At her party," Natasha said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Of course you did," you groaned, leaning back against the couch. "Nat, I love that you feel comfortable with him, but don’t tell him things before I’m ready."

"I thought you had, honestly," Natasha admitted, sitting up straighter.

"No, I hadn’t," you said firmly. "I wanted to talk to him about it first. Regarding Bella, we have a great agreement—50/50 custody, as you know. It works for us, but Sam can play hardball too."

"I know, baby," Natasha said softly, her hand reaching for yours. "I’m sorry."

"It’s fine," you exhaled deeply, the tension easing. "It’s just...a lot is changing. He hasn’t mentioned it to me yet, so at least he’s not against it, which is good. He’s chill. It’ll be a great conversation. And honestly, it’s football season—he’ll be working a lot. That’ll give me more time with her anyway."

Natasha squeezed your hand gently, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. "You’re right. And if it makes it easier for you, I’ll stay out of it. You take the lead with Sam."

"Thank you," you said, offering her a small smile. "I know you meant well. We’ll figure it out."

"We always do," Natasha replied, kissing your temple. "And hey, I promise to run things by you first from now on."

"Good," you teased, your smile widening. "Now, let’s talk about how you’ll make up for it."

Natasha grinned, leaning closer. "I’ve got a few ideas..."

********

The small bistro was quiet, the kind of place with soft jazz playing overhead and just enough tables to feel intimate. When you walked in, the faint clinking of silverware and the smell of fresh herbs greeted you. You scanned the room, noting how empty it was—a relief. This was the kind of conversation you didn’t want to be overheard.

Your eyes landed on Sam, seated near the window. He leaned back in his chair, an easy grin on his face as he chatted with a waitress. She laughed at something he said, her cheeks slightly pink as she poured more water into his glass. If you looked closely, she resembled you. Sam had a type.

You sighed and walked over, the heels of your shoes clicking softly against the tiled floor.

"Sam," you said, your voice cutting through their conversation.

He looked up, startled for a moment before his signature smile returned. "Hey! There she is."

The waitress stepped back, offering a polite nod. "Let me know if you need anything else," she said before disappearing behind the counter.

"Flirting already?" you teased, sliding into the seat across from him.

He shrugged, unbothered. "What can I say? She’s cute. Plus, it’s not like I’m the married one here anymore."

"You never could stop the wandering eye," you quipped, leaning back in your chair.

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I wasn’t the one with the side piece, though, was I—"

"No," You rolled your eyes. "you never had problems watching either.'

He held up his hands in surrender, clearly enjoying himself. "Fair point."

"I can't believe you're the one who picked this place," you mused, glancing around the small cafe. "A little too romantic, don't you think?"

"What?" Sam chuckled. "You know I like good food."

"Of course," you replied dryly. "I want to talk about bringing Isabella on tour with me for a few weeks."

His smirk faltered slightly, but he recovered quickly, leaning back in his chair. "Bringing her on tour? For a couple of weeks? Yeah, your girlfriend told me about it."

"Yes," you nodded, watching him closely. "I think it could be good for her. She’s curious about what I do, and it’d be a great opportunity for us to spend more time together. Plus, she’d get to experience something different."

Sam tilted his head, his brow furrowing. "It’s not that I’m against it, but are you sure it’s the best environment for her? I mean, all that traveling, the schedule, being around... well, Natasha."

You crossed your arms, not missing the way he hesitated. "Natasha is part of my life now, Sam. You know that."

"Yeah, I know," he sighed. "It's just when you fall in love with women, you fall pretty hard."

"And you don't think this is something different?"

"Honestly, I don't know," He said. "It's not my place to judge. My only worry is that Isabella won't be influenced by being with adults the entire time."

"That's why she'll be there, with me, her mother, for support," You argued. "I understand your hesitance, but I'm asking as a courtesy."

"A courtesy to me?" He frowned. "This isn't just about her coming along. This is about bringing people into her life with a reputation for being party animals. You can't blame me for questioning that. I'm not questioning your judgment. I'm judging theirs."

"If I had any sliver of doubt that she'd be exposed to anything we don't want her to, I will bring her home," You promised.

Sam sighed, toying with the gold ring on his finger. He seemed to consider your words momentarily, his gaze flitting over your shoulder. Then, his expression softened, and he leaned forward. "I can see how important this is to you," he said.

"It is," you confirmed, meeting his eye.

"You're a great mom," he went on. "The best, honestly. You're a great person. I trust your judgment."

"Thanks, Sam," you smiled, a weight lifting from your chest.

"But," he added, "if she's exposed to any of the bad shit, you'll bring her home. No questions asked."

"Deal," you agreed, holding out your hand.

Sam shook your hand, his grip firm and warm. "Alright then. We'll see what we can work out."

"You're the best," you grinned, relieved.

"I know," he said, his smirk returning.

You shook your head, biting back a laugh.

Hotel California | Track 13: Part Of Your World

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 8.4k

Chapter 13/18

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: This was unnecessarily long.

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

The sun was setting below the city horizon when she called for a group meeting. Natasha paced in front of the rest of the band, her eyes scanning the notes on her phone. They were gathered in Tony's Malibu mansion, where the final preparations for the upcoming tour occurred in a flurry of activity. The energy in the room was tense, a mixture of excitement and exhaustion that only came in the final stretch before a major event.

“So, just to recap,” Natasha began, her voice steady but carrying a certain edge of anticipation, “we’re hitting a few smaller cities after the big shows in New York and LA. We need to ensure everything is in place, especially for the merch and the opening acts. I don’t want any last-minute hiccups.”

"You got it, Captain," Tony nodded as he cracked open a Miller lite. He sipped it loudly, grinning as Natasha rolled her eyes. "The merch is all ready. I saw some pretty cool T-shirts with my face on them. I think I look snazzy."

"You're such a narcissist, Tony," Steve snorted, shaking his head. He looked back at Natasha, giving her a nod. "Why aren't we going over this with Mitch?"

"Mitch is busy," Natasha shrugged. "I figured a group session without her expertise would be great."

"Oh," Steve blinked. "We’re good on the setlist, right?"

“Yeah, the setlist is solid,” Natasha answered. “But we need to tighten up a few transitions—especially that acoustic intro with Wanda’s solo. Let’s make sure we get through it a couple more times before the first show. We don’t want it to drag on, and we don’t want it to feel rushed either.”

"I've been working on that part; I'll have it down before you know it," Wanda grinned, leaning against the back of the couch.

"That's what I like to hear," Natasha smirked, returning to the phone. "We're doing a photo shoot with a magazine the day before the first show, so make sure you're in the city by then. But if anyone needs a break from the spotlight, just let me know. We can always switch things up. Any questions?"

"What about the hotel situation?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hotel situation?" Natasha repeated, looking at Bucky. "What hotel situation?"

"Where we're staying," Bucky explained, rolling his eyes. "I hope it's nice. The last time I was in a shitty motel, I came down with a fungus."

"Oh, fuck, that was bad," Tony gagged.

"Our budget is a bit bigger this time, " Wanda said. "We have a tour bus for most of the U.S. Keeping in touch with our roots. Though for the venues with double nights, we have suites booked."

"I don't know why you all like to pretend I'm not rich," Tony shrugged. "I can cover any hotel bills we might incur."

"Thanks, but we don't need your money," Steve smirked, his tone a tad condescending.

"Hey, it's not charity, okay? It's not my fault I'm better than you," Tony replied, his gaze meeting Steve's.

"We're not arguing about this again," Natasha said, pointing at both men. "I don't have the energy, and we don't have the time. We'll talk about hotels later."

"I was just wondering," Bucky grumbled, crossing his arms.

"You don't have to worry, Buck," Steve smiled. "This will be the biggest tour the band has ever done, and I'm sure the hotels will be great."

"You guys can have a whole room if you want," Natasha said.

"I like the sound of that," Tony nodded.

Natasha exhaled, her shoulders loosening slightly as she stood at the head of the coffee table. "Okay, that’s most of it. I think we’re in a good place. We just need to keep the momentum going and stay focused. Remember, we’ve got a long haul ahead. But we can do it."

"Can we talk about other things?" Tony asked with a smirk.

"Sure," Natasha nodded.

"Who's gonna hook up with who first?"

"Tony," Steve sighed.

"What?" Tony scoffed. "C'mon, it's not a bad question."

"No, I don't think so," Steve argued.

"It's an important question," Tony pressed. "We can't have people getting weird and emotional."

"Well, considering three out of five of us are taken," Natasha rolled her eyes. "Besides, aren't you with Pepper?"

"I've been known to stray," Tony chuckled.

"No, I'm pretty sure she'd kill you," Bucky smirked.

"She'd kill you, and then she'd kill me for hooking the two of you up," Steve nodded.

"Okay, maybe," Tony sighed.

"Let's try and have some semblance of professionalism, alright?" Natasha said, her gaze scanning the room.

"But Nat, isn't this supposed to be fun?" Wanda giggled.

"Wanda, please," Natasha shook her head.

"I'm just saying," Wanda shrugged.

"Just because it's fun doesn't mean we shouldn't take it seriously," Steve nodded.

"Oh, c'mon, Steve," Tony groaned. "Don't settle down just yet. Who's going to be my wingman?"

"Not me," Steve replied firmly, folding his arms across his chest. "I’m not interested in being dragged into one of your antics."

"Well, that’s disappointing," Tony sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I thought we were friends."

"We are friends," Steve said. "But I also like my peace of mind."

"You’re no fun," Tony muttered. "What about you, Bucky? Feeling up for a little adventure?"

"Hard pass," Bucky replied, not even looking up from his phone. "You’re on your own, Stark."

Tony threw his hands up in mock exasperation. "What’s the point of being in a band if none of you want to help me live a little?"

"Tony, we’re in the band, not your personal dating service," Natasha said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "And frankly, your idea of 'living a little' usually ends in chaos."

"Chaos makes for great stories," Tony shot back.

"And headlines," Wanda added with a grin, earning a chuckle from Bucky.

"See, Wanda gets it!" Tony said, pointing at her.

"Don't drag me into this," Wanda replied, laughing. "I’m just here to keep the peace."

"Well, at least someone here knows how to have fun," Tony muttered, though his grin showed he wasn’t taking the rejection too seriously.

"Fun doesn’t mean reckless," Natasha interjected, her tone firm. "This tour is important. We’ve worked too hard to let anything—or anyone—jeopardize it."

Tony held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, point taken, boss."

"Good," Natasha said, her gaze sharp. "Now, can we focus?"

"Fine," Tony said with a dramatic sigh. "But when this tour’s over, Steve, you owe me a drink. Non-negotiable."

Steve rolled his eyes but smiled faintly. "We’ll see."

"You should all be so lucky to get a drink with me," Tony huffed.

"Whatever you say, Tony," Natasha smirked, rolling her eyes. "Now, as much as I love your charming company, I have to go meet up with y/n. Her daughter's birthday is tomorrow, and I haven't seen either of them in a week."

"How's that situation going?" Tony asked curiously.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, with her having a kid," Tony elaborated. "I never took you for the stepmom type."

"We're not married," Natasha said a tad defensively.

"Yet," Wanda grinned.

"My money's on the next couple months," Bucky commented.

"I'll raise you to the second tour date," Tony said. They looked over to Steve expectantly to see what he would say.

"I don't get involved in bets, guys," Steve replied, though he was smiling.

"Party pooper," Tony grumbled.

"You guys can't keep betting on my love life," Natasha frowned. "It's rude."

"Rude? Really, Nat?" Tony smirked, though he backed off slightly at her tone. "I thought we were family. Families meddle."

"Not like this," Natasha shot back.

"Alright, let’s dial it down," Steve interjected, his steady tone cutting through the tension. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Tony, Bucky—leave her be. It’s not about bets or jokes."

"Aw, come on, Rogers," Bucky said, though his tone was more teasing than serious. "You can’t tell me you’re not at least curious."

Steve shook his head with a faint smile. "I’m not getting involved in your nonsense, but... I will say this." He turned to Natasha, his expression softening. "Nat, I’ve known you for a long time. Longer than anyone else here. And if there’s anyone who’s got a shot at being the one for you... it’s Y/N."

The room grew quiet at Steve’s words. Even Tony seemed to consider them momentarily, his usual smirk replaced by something more thoughtful.

Natasha blinked, caught off guard by the clarity and sincerity in Steve’s tone. She opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a rare loss for words.

"She’s a good person," Steve continued. "And from what you’ve said, so is her daughter. You wouldn’t be putting in this kind of effort if it didn’t mean something to you."

Natasha swallowed, the lump in her throat forming before she could stop it. She nodded slightly, her eyes fixed on the table. "Yeah," she said quietly. "It does mean something. I've kind of downplayed it to you guys because I've been scared. She's special. Truthfully."

"It's okay to be scared, Nat," Steve said softly. "But sometimes the best things are worth the risk."

Natasha looked up at Steve, his blue eyes full of understanding and support. She gave him a small smile, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Thanks, Steve. That... actually means a lot."

"Well, now we have to go and celebrate our future niece," Tony smiled. "What does she want for her birthday?"

"Honestly, what would you get a kid that has everything?"

"A pony," Wanda replied, shrugging.

"Maybe a dog," Steve suggested.

"Those are both animals," Bucky pointed out. "Many people don't do well with gifts like that."

"Maybe a kitten," Tony suggested.

"That's still an animal," Steve chuckled.

"I'm not getting her an animal," Natasha interjected. "Y/n would kill me. I'm trying to be a good influence, remember?"

"Alright," Wanda smirked. "What about jewelry? Isabella is a little diva. I think she'd appreciate a nice necklace."

"Jewelry is good," Natasha nodded.

"Or a guitar," Steve offered, looking over at her. "That's something that she'd like."

"Yeah, it would," Natasha replied. "Maybe a custom guitar. That way, it's unique."

"Now you're talking," Steve grinned. "That's a solid gift. Maybe I can help you out."

"I'll take the help," Natasha chuckled. "Thank you, Steve. I'll see you guys later."

"See you later," Steve waved.

As she walked to her car, Natasha shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, Steve’s words bouncing around in her head. Maybe the best things are worth the risk. She hated how simple he made it sound like it wasn’t a minefield waiting to blow up in her face.

Her boots scuffed against the pavement as she walked, the cool evening breeze doing little to settle the heat simmering under her skin. Love wasn’t new to her—she’d been there, done that, and watched it crash and burn. But this? This was something else. With you, it didn’t feel like walking a tightrope. It was steady, calm, and easy in a way that scared the hell out of her. She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. Too easy. That’s what kept her up at night. She didn’t trust easily, not after everything she’d been through. Love like this had to come with strings attached, right? Some catch she hadn’t seen yet. It always did.

Still, there was no denying how her chest felt lighter when you laughed, how the world seemed quieter when Isabella would climb onto the couch next to her and chatter about her day. Natasha felt grounded for the first time in longer than she could remember. She wasn’t waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under her—at least, not yet.

Natasha felt it in her spirit—an unfamiliar steadiness that had replaced the restlessness she used to carry like armor. Long gone were the days of being a womanizer, of chasing fleeting connections that filled the silence but left her empty. Back then, she’d convinced herself that love was just another game she could play and win. But now? Now, it wasn’t about the chase, the thrill, or the control.

It was about how you looked at her as if she was more than the sum of her mistakes. It was about the trust in Isabella’s tiny hand when it slipped into hers. It was about the quiet moments she never thought she’d crave, where laughter filled the spaces she once kept guarded.

Natasha hadn’t planned for this—for you. But somehow, you'd carved out a place in her life, so naturally, it was as if you'd been there all along. It wasn’t just love anymore. Something deeper terrified her even as it anchored her in a way she hadn’t known she needed.

**********

She didn’t know what to expect when she pulled into your driveway. Another car was parked in front of your house, and she couldn’t help the flicker of curiosity that crept in. Who had stopped by this time? Not that she had any fundamental right to ask—not officially, anyway. The two of you didn’t live together. She didn’t own a stake in your day-to-day life outside of what you chose to share with her.

Still, the sight of the cars tugged at her. It wasn’t nerves, she told herself, just... curiosity. She exited her vehicle and grabbed the small bag from the passenger seat. She'd picked up crepes and coffee for the three of you, hoping for a quiet brunch. She knew Isabella's birthday would be a big deal, and she wanted to spend time with you without the pressure of guests.

Natasha rang the doorbell, adjusting her jacket and jeans. After a few seconds, the door swung open, but instead of you, Natasha was greeted by a boy—about ten years old, his dark hair cut into a low fade and his expression guarded. He looked up at her, sizing her up with the kind of scrutiny that made Natasha blink.

“Who are you?” the boy asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

Natasha tilted her head, trying to suppress a grin. “I could ask you the same thing,” she replied, her tone light.

“I live here for the weekend,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m AJ. And you didn’t answer my question.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “I’m Natasha. A friend of Y/N’s.”

“A friend?” AJ narrowed his eyes. “What kind of friend?”

“The kind who brings crepes and coffee,” Natasha said, holding the bag.

AJ didn’t look impressed. “That doesn’t mean anything. Lots of people bring stuff when they visit.”

“Hmm.” AJ tapped his chin, clearly trying to decide whether she was trustworthy. “Do you know Isabella’s favorite color?”

“Purple,” Natasha answered without hesitation.

AJ’s eyes narrowed further as if he suspected she’d cheated somehow. “Favorite show?”

“Easy. High School Musical The Musical The Series.” She'd sat through a Friday night binging with Isabella. Thank you very much.

AJ frowned. “Okay, but—”

“Aj!” Your voice cut through the interrogation as you appeared at the door, an amused look on your face. “What are you doing?”

"Grilling the hell out of me, that's what he's doing," Natasha muttered.

"Go play," You shook your head at the young boy. "Come inside."

"But—"

"Inside," You insisted.

"Okay," AJ sighed, turning around and heading back towards the living room.

You let out a small laugh as Natasha stepped inside, the warmth of the house enveloping her.

"Sorry about that," you chuckled. "He's very protective."

"It's fine," Natasha smiled. "Who is he?"

"Sam's nephew," You answered. "They usually spend the night with Isabella before her birthday. Their mom is here doing her hair."

"Oh, cool," Natasha nodded. "I brought crepes."

"You didn't have to do that," You replied, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

"A kiss on the cheek is all I get?" Natasha joked.

"You're right," You laughed. You stepped forward, your kiss light. It could be considered a peck. But it still sent a shiver down her spine. It was over before either of you could savor it. Only neither of you was satisfied with that. A week without seeing each other made you feel deprived.

Your arms wound around her neck, your fingers sinking into the hair at the base of her scalp as your lips parted. Natasha hummed, her free arm pulling you flush against her, the bag forgotten in her hand.

You leaned into her, deepening the kiss. Her tongue was a welcome warmth, and the moan she elicited was enough to make your knees weak. When her hand traveled down to your ass, you pulled back with a giggle.

"I've missed you," You whispered.

"Missed you too," Natasha said, unable to resist planting another kiss on your lips.

The shout pulled you apart instantly. Natasha cleared her throat, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks as she glanced toward the source of the interruption.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, smoothing your shirt and stepping back. “She’s been a bit of a birthdayzilla these days.”

Natasha chuckled softly. “I’ll survive.”

You led her toward the living room, where Isabella was perched on a chair, her legs swinging happily as a woman—probably the braider you’d mentioned—put the finishing touches on her hair.

“Natasha!” Isabella’s face lit up the second she spotted her. She squirmed in her seat, but the braider gently reminded her to stay still.

“Hey,” Natasha greeted, a warm smile spreading across her face. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in Isabella’s braids—a cute mix of pink and purple stripes woven in, subtle but striking. “Wow, look at you. These are so cool!”

Isabella beamed, clearly thrilled by the compliment. “Do you like them? Pink and purple are my favorite colors!”

“I love them,” Natasha replied, crouching down to get a better look. “You look like a rock star.”

“Like a pop star,” Isabella corrected with a giggle. “But thank you!”

“Big difference,” Natasha teased, giving her a wink.

You smiled at the interaction, leaning against the doorway as you watched them. It was still surreal to see Natasha with Isabella sometimes, how easily she fell into this role that neither of you had planned. Yet here she was, making your daughter feel like the most special person in the world.

“Almost done,” the braider said, securing the last braid with a little pink clip.

“Can I show Natasha my birthday dress after?” Isabella asked excitedly, already bouncing in her seat.

“Of course,” you said with a laugh. “But let Aunt Sarah finish first.”

AJ poked his head into the room, his eyes lighting up as he spotted Natasha.

"You're still here!" He said.

"Yup," Natasha replied, smiling down at him.

"Good," AJ said. "Cause we'll need an extra person for the dance battle."

"Dance battle?" Natasha repeated, her brows arching slightly.

"Yup," AJ grinned. "We're going to have a dance-off for Isabella's birthday."

"Oh really?" Natasha chuckled.

"Yup," AJ nodded, looking over at Isabella. "And we're gonna win! We need a referee. Can you be fair?"

"Well, I can try," Natasha said, unable to hide her smile.

"She's on my team," Isabella said with a giggle.

"Nooo!" AJ said.

"Yes," Isabella replied.

"But, she's the judge," AJ countered.

"And my mom's girlfriend," Isabella argued.

"Girlfriend?" AJ's eyebrows furrowed. "Does Uncle Sam know about this?"

"Boy," Sarah scolded her son.

"For your information, I don't need permission from your uncle Sam to date," You playfully rolled your eyes at the little boy. You knew he was mischievous and didn't take offense to it.

"Alright," Sarah said, clapping her hands. "She's ready."

Isabella hopped out of her chair, her skirt billowing as she rushed over to Natasha.

"I want her on my team," She pouted, her lower lip sticking out.

"Awww, why can't we be on the same team?" AJ whined.

"Because you're mean," Isabella huffed.

"I am not!"

"Are too!"

"I think," Sarah cut in, her hands on her hips. "We can have a boys vs girls competition."

"Okay," Isabella brightened. "Me and Mommy and Natasha!"

"Alright, tomorrow it will be settled," Sarah said. We may have more volunteers.

"Nice save," You grinned as the kids ran to the backyard. It's probably to terrorize Bear. "This is my girlfriend, Natasha. Natasha, this is my ex-sister-in-law, Sarah."

"Ex-sister-in-law," Natasha echoed, tilting her head curiously.

"It has a weird ring when you say it like that," Sarah chuckled. She reached out her hand for Natasha to take. "Nice to meet you, Natasha."

"Likewise," Natasha shook her hand. "You're good at what you do."

"Thank you," Sarah smiled. "The braids were all Isabella's idea. I just do the job."

"She has great taste," Natasha said, her eyes flicking to you.

Natasha glanced between you and Sarah briefly, wondering if it was awkward for her to meet your ex-husband's sister. It had to be strange, right? She hesitated, unsure if she should say anything.

As if sensing the unspoken question, Sarah laughed and waved her hand dismissively. "You’re wondering if this is weird, aren’t you?"

Natasha blinked but nodded slightly. “A little, yeah.”

“It’s not,” Sarah assured her with a warm smile. “Our family’s close enough to know when people need to move on—and to be happy when they do. Life’s too short to hold onto things that don’t work anymore.”

Natasha nodded slowly, appreciating the honesty. “That’s... refreshing to hear.”

“Besides,” Sarah added, glancing at Isabella, who was already halfway to the backyard with AJ on her heels. “As long as Isabella is happy and loved, that’s what matters. And clearly, she adores you.”

Natasha’s lips curved into a soft smile. “I adore her too.”

“She’s easy to adore,” Sarah said with a knowing grin, then looked back to you. “You picked a good one.”

You smiled, your gaze flicking to Natasha. “I know.”

Natasha rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips. The moment felt strange. Comfortable, even. Like Sarah’s words had peeled away the awkwardness Natasha had been bracing for and replaced it with something much simpler: understanding.

"Alright," Sarah said, grabbing her purse. "I've gotta run. I'll be here super early since AJ and Cass are staying here. I'll go and kiss them goodbye. Nice meeting you again, Natasha."

"Nice meeting you," Natasha said.

"See you later, Sarah," You called.

Natasha slipped her hand into yours as the door shut behind her, gently squeezing it.

"Were you nervous?" You asked her softly.

"Not nervous, per se," Natasha shrugged. "Just a little concerned. She's the first ex-family member I've met."

"You handled it well," You chuckled. "She liked you."

"Did she?"

"She wouldn't have given her seal of approval if she didn't," You smiled.

"Her seal of approval," Natasha repeated, her brows arching slightly.

"Yes," You replied. "Now come on. We've got a dance battle to prepare for."

"Right," Natasha chuckled, following you out to the backyard. "A dance battle."

********

Spending the day with three children was even more of a task than Natasha could have ever imagined. She'd grown up with a sibling, always just the two. They had their fights here and there, but nothing held a candle for the three children today. Isabella was the ring leader of the chorus, and her cousins did everything she wanted. Natasha sat back on the couch and watched them go over their routine. It was a little silly, but she was impressed by how quickly they had developed a set. They were quickly reprimanded if they got too rowdy or rough with each other.

She had never seen a more disciplined trio of kids in her life. She had expected chaos from the start, but they'd been very organized instead. She had to commend you for it. You had such a way with them.

Eventually, the night winded down, and you turned to your bedroom to check last-minute emails, your back propped up against the headboard. A yawn threatened to escape, but you stifled it, determined to get through just a few more messages before calling it a night. You'd promised to return to the living room with the rest of the family. Only, you had so much to do.

Natasha stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

"Hey," she said, her voice low.

You looked up from your screen, your eyes lingering on her longer than you'd intended. She always looked so calm in moments like this, and you found it grounding in a way you couldn’t explain.

"I thought I would head home now," She gestured to the car. "The kids are almost asleep. Though I think Isabella won't be there for a while."

"Yeah," You smiled. "It's always like that with her cousins."

"Yeah," Natasha laughed. "They're worn out."

"They're going to wake up feeling like zombies," You said.

"Probably," She chuckled.

"So," You put your phone down. "You're leaving?"

"If I don't, I might fall asleep here," She said.

"Would that be so bad?"

"You want me to with the kids in the house?" She questioned.

"I'll lock the door," You grinned.

Natasha smirked. "Well, if you want me to stay."

"I want you to," You admitted.

"Then," She smiled. "I'll stay."

"Good," You whispered. You closed your laptop and placed it on the nightstand. She closed the door behind her and locked it. She threw herself into the bed, crawling slightly until her head rested in your lap.

"Hey," She grinned.

"Hey," You chuckled, your fingers moving through her hair.

"I've missed this," She sighed.

"Yeah," You agreed.

"I've missed us," She added.

"Us?"

"You and me," She said. "Being able to be us without interruptions."

"Well, there's no interruptions here," You said. "You've really missed me during the week. You sure you're not having fun being a hotshot rockstar."

"You're a hotshot too, you know," Natasha joked.

"I guess I am," You said, a small smile on your face. "You look so pretty like this."

"Like what?"

"Here with me," You answered.

"And you," She said. "You're always gorgeous."

"Always, huh," You repeated.

"Even when I'm annoyed with you," She chuckled.

"And when would that be?"

"When you're doing your work thing and don't let me distract you," She said.

"You distract me just fine," You laughed.

"I'm sure I do," She smirked.

"Mhmm," You hummed. "We should probably head to sleep."

"Probably," She agreed, though neither of you moved.

"Or," You suggested.

"Or?"

"Or, we can stay here a little while longer."

"Sounds like a plan," She whispered.

"I have a few last-minute things to pick up for Bella's birthday. I think I'll have Monica do them instead." You began.

"You're a good mom," Natasha hummed.

"Sometimes," You said. "I only say sometimes because I can't give her what she's wanted the most for the past few years. A sibling. She won't let it go."

Natasha's smirk softened into something more tender as she watched you, her hand lazily tracing small circles on your belly. She could tell there was something more behind your words, a weight lingering in your voice.

"Do you want more kids?" Natasha asked, her voice careful, almost hesitant.

You shrugged, your fingers idly toying with the hem of her tank top. "I don't know," you admitted. "My first pregnancy... I was so young, Nat. Terrified. I didn’t know what I was doing. Half the time, I still don’t feel like I do."

"You’re doing amazing," she said quickly, her sincerity evident.

"Thanks," you murmured, your lips twitching into a faint smile. "But if I did have another, I’d want it to be different. I’d want to feel ready and enjoy it instead of being scared out of my mind every second."

"Makes sense," Natasha nodded, her hand sliding down to intertwine with yours. She was quiet momentarily as if weighing something over in her mind.

"What about you?" you asked, tilting your head. "Isabella grilling you on our Facetime call told me enough."

"I'd like kids," Natasha shrugged.

"With me?"

"Of course, with you," She laughed. "Tell me about your pregnancy. What was it like? Something good."

"Oh," You chuckled. "Well, there was a point when I was craving the strangest food."

"And what would that be?" She asked, a small smile on her lips.

"Pickle ice cream."

"Pickle ice cream," Natasha repeated.

"And chocolate syrup," You added.

"That's the oddest combination," She said.

"It was what she wanted," You laughed. "Also, I couldn't eat meat for about four months. I would just puke it all up."

"Was she a picky eater?" Natasha asked.

"Sometimes," You replied. "She's still picky."

"That's not surprising," Natasha smiled. "And what about her birth?"

"That part," You chuckled. "I don't remember much. I know the pain was excruciating."

"Really?"

"Yeah," You nodded. "I kind of dissociated after. I do remember just being so in love with her. Holding her. She was so tiny."

"Wow," Natasha whispered, her hand still tracing lazy circles.

"She was so beautiful," You whispered, a fond smile spreading across your lips.

"Did I ever tell you how much motherhood suits you?" Natasha questioned.

"Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to get me pregnant." You joked.

"If I could, you would be," Natasha said in such a tone that you believe her.

"Oh yeah?" You chuckled.

"I can't imagine anything more beautiful than a mini version of us running around," She continued. "Not to mention, the practice would be kind of fun."

"Yeah," You sighed.

"And," Natasha sat up. "I'd be right here with you through the whole thing. From morning sickness to picking out the most god-awful maternity clothes. Every single step. I'd be with you."

"Really?"

"Really," She whispered.

You took a deep breath. "You talk a good game, Natasha Romanoff."

"I'm a woman of my word."

"Oh, I'm aware." You kissed her.

"So," Natasha whispered. "Does that mean you'll have a kid with me?"

"Maybe," You murmured.

"Maybe?" She frowned.

"Yes," You laughed.

"That's a yes, then," Natasha said.

"Well, not right now," You laughed. "In the words of Beyonce... you have to put a ring on it."

"That's the rule, huh?" Natasha grinned.

"Yup," You said. "No baby, unless there's a ring."

"So," She leaned in, her lips a breath away. "If I put a ring on it, you'll have my kid."

"Well, not just that," You replied.

"Then what?"

"You're also going to be my wife," You whispered.

"Your wife," She echoed, her tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth. "Hmmm, sounds perfect."

"You sound pretty sure," You teased.

"Well, I know I'll marry you," Natasha smirked.

"And why's that?"

"Because," She said, her lips brushing against yours. "We belong together."

"So cheesy," You whispered.

Before Natasha could deepen the kiss, a soft knock sounded at the door. You barely had time to pull back before Isabella pushed it open, standing there with her hands on her hips and a pout on her lips.

"Mama," she whined, her voice tinged with frustration. "The boys are trying to watch scary movies, and I’m not down for it."

You exchanged a glance with Natasha, biting back a laugh at her dramatic delivery. Natasha leaned back against the headboard, her arms crossed, the picture of casual amusement.

"Scary movies, huh?" Natasha asked.

"Yeah! AJ said I’d get nightmares and cry," Isabella huffed, crossing her arms.

"That doesn’t sound very nice," you said, patting the bed beside you. "Come here, birthday girl."

Isabella climbed onto the bed, squeezing herself between you and Natasha. She leaned into your side, her tiny arms wrapping around your waist.

"You can stay with us," Natasha offered.

"Really?" Isabella’s eyes lit up, her earlier frustration forgotten.

"Of course," Natasha grinned. "We were just talking about super important stuff like... pancakes for breakfast tomorrow."

Isabella giggled, her nose scrunching up. "Pancakes aren’t important!"

"Excuse me," Natasha feigned offense, holding a hand to her chest. "Pancakes are very important."

"She’s right," you said, kissing Isabella’s head. "And maybe we’ll make them extra special since it’s your birthday weekend."

"With whipped cream and sprinkles?" Isabella asked, her voice hopeful.

"Absolutely," Natasha said without hesitation, making Isabella delightfully squeal.

As the three of you settled in, Isabella leaned into Natasha, chatting animatedly about everything she wanted to do tomorrow. And though the moment had shifted, you couldn’t help but smile, your heart full as you watched Natasha listen attentively to your daughter, already fitting into your little family as if she belonged there all along.

*****

Natasha whistled softly as she stepped out of the car, taking in the sheer size of Sam's house. She thought your place was impressive, but this? This was something else. Despite its grandeur, the sprawling two-story home had a warm, inviting charm, and the massive backyard—already filled with decorations—was a whole world of its own.

The scene in the backyard was almost magical. Mini tents were set up, each acting as a spa station with its themes—manicures, pedicures, facials, and even a hair-braiding corner. The kids were running around in coordinated pink, gold, and ivory outfits, looking like miniature royalty as they giggled and chased each other.

"Wow," Natasha muttered as she adjusted the gift bag.

You caught her staring and smiled, nudging her shoulder. "Told you, Sam goes all out. He doesn't know how to do small parties."

"Clearly," Natasha said with a chuckle. "This looks like something out of a Pinterest board on steroids."

"Right?" you laughed. "Isabella's been talking about this for weeks. She even picked out a special outfit just for today."

As if on cue, Isabella came running over, her pink and gold dress flouncing as she moved. Her braids were styled in two neat buns, each adorned with little golden clips that sparkled in the sun. She was practically glowing with excitement.

"Natasha! Mama! Look at everything!" she squealed, grabbing both of your hands and pulling you toward the tents.

"Wow," Natasha said, crouching slightly to meet Isabella's eyes. "You look like a princess. That dress is amazing."

"Thanks, it's custom-made," She beamed. "My shoes, too."

"Your whole outfit is custom-made?" Natasha gaped.

"Of course," Isabella smiled. "Auntie Kate is the best. She makes all my clothes and does the alterations. Do you want me to show you how she does it?"

"You know how to sew?" Natasha asked.

"Not yet," Isabella shrugged. "But I'm learning."

"She's a busy kid," You shrugged. You leaned down to kiss her as you hadn't seen her since Sam picked her up after breakfast. "Hi, Bella."

"Hey, Mommy," She grinned.

"Is that my niece?!" Kate called.

"Hey, Auntie," Isabella ran over and hugged her.

"Happy Birthday, Princess," Kate cooed. "Go play; the party's just getting started."

"Okay," She rushed off to join her friends.

"You do make the cutest things," You said, wrapping Kate in a hug. "The dress turned out so good."

"You're not wrong about that," Kate grinned, pulling back from your hug. "Isabella has the taste of a fashion mogul already. I’ll be working for her in no time."

Before you could respond, a familiar voice called out, breaking through the hum of laughter and music.

"Am I interrupting a love fest?" Sam strolled over with a wide grin and a beer in hand. His tailored shirt and casual slacks gave him a polished but laid-back look, typical Sam.

"Always," you teased, stepping back. "Natasha, you remember Sam."

"I do," Natasha said with a slight nod and a polite but firm smile.

"And, of course, I remember you," Sam said, his smile widening as he addressed Natasha. "Nice to see you again, Natasha. Thanks for coming. Isabella's been talking nonstop about you being here."

"I'm glad I could make it," Natasha replied smoothly.

Sam's grin grew as he shifted his gaze between you. "So, how's it going with this one?" he asked Natasha, motioning toward you with a mischievous glint.

You rolled your eyes, already prepared for his antics. "Sam..."

"What?" Sam held up his hands in mock innocence. "Just curious. I like to keep tabs on who’s keeping you on your toes."

Natasha smirked, folding her arms. "I’d say we’re doing pretty well. She keeps me on my toes, too, though."

"Good," Sam said, nodding approvingly. "You need that. Trust me."

"Alright, cool it," you interjected, shaking your head but unable to hide your smile. "You’ve met her before, Sam. No need to grill her again."

"Hey, I'm just being a responsible ex-husband-slash-friend," Sam quipped, sipping his beer. "Besides, it’s nice to see you happy."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, watching the banter with interest. She could see it now—the ease with which you and Sam interacted, the unspoken understanding between you two. There was no tension, no bitterness. Just the comfort of people who’d once been something else but had figured out how to be something better for Isabella’s sake.

"How about you?" Natasha asked, surprising Sam. "You happy?"

Sam blinked, then let out a low chuckle. "I like her," he said, glancing at you. "Smart and straightforward. I can see why you’re with her."

"Don’t dodge the question," Natasha pressed, her smirk deepening.

"Fair enough," Sam said with a shrug. "Yeah, I’m happy. Life’s good. Got a great kid, a solid job, and I still get to hang out with my favorite ex-wife."

"Favorite?" you teased. "How many do you have?"

"Just the one, but you’re still the best," Sam shot back, making Natasha laugh softly.

"Well, I'm glad you two get along," You smiled. "I was a little worried."

"No need to worry," Sam said, his gaze shifting over your shoulder. "Here comes the birthday girl."

Natasha turned and watched as Isabella made her way over, followed closely by her cousins.

"Daddy, what color should I get my nails? AJ said pink is too girly." Isabella asked.

"AJ is a punk, and you know it," Sam said, a serious look on his face.

"Sam!" You scolded. "He's your nephew."

"Sorry," He said.

"You can get any color you want," Natasha offered.

"Any color?" Isabella looked at her.

"Any," Natasha repeated.

"Even black?"

"Black would be an interesting choice, but yes," You nodded.

"Can I get them with glitter?" She asked.

"Definitely," You laughed. "Go have fun. I'll get some snacks in a few."

"Thanks, Mama," She rushed off, her cousins behind her.

"They have a lot of energy," Natasha commented.

"You don't know the half of it," Sam sighed. "Those three could run a marathon. Now, Natasha, how much do you know about grilling?"

"Uh, a little," Natasha answered, slightly confused by the abrupt question.

"Great," Sam handed her his beer and started toward the grill. "I could use a little help over here."

"Okay, then," Natasha glanced at you with amusement.

You grinned and shrugged. "Good luck," you said, waving them off.

"The ex and the new girlfriend," Monica teased as she stepped up to you. "You, Sam, and another woman. Now, where have I seen that before?"

"In your grave, if you don't be quiet," You rolled your eyes at her.

"I'm not dead," Monica laughed.

"Not yet."

"Oh, come on, Y/N," Monica said. "Live a little."

"I've lived a lot already," You sighed. "This party planning drained me. Thanks for picking up the balloons."

"Anything for my goddaughter," Monica said. "Besides, it was on my way."

"It wasn't, but whatever," You smiled.

"Mama!" Isabella called. "Come pick a tent."

"Duty calls," You shook your head. You followed Isabella into a tent where she would be getting her pedicure. You sat to her left while Lenny sat to her right. "So, do you like this party better than the spa we planned?"

"It's way better," Isabella grinned.

"What about the boys?"

"They're being dumb," She rolled her eyes. "But, the dance battle should be fun."

"Indeed it will be," You said as you chose a color.

*********

Natasha stood by the grill, the warm sun overhead and the aroma of sizzling meat filling the air. Sam was expertly flipping burgers, his demeanor relaxed and friendly. A few of his old football teammates stood nearby, chatting and laughing loudly. Natasha could tell they were sizing her up, even if subtly. It didn’t bother her; she’d been in enough social situations to roll with it.

"Natasha, this is my buddy Jordan," Sam said, nodding toward a tall guy with broad shoulders and a grin too charming for his good. "We played together back in college."

"Hey," Natasha said, giving Jordan a polite nod.

"And that's Chris," Sam added, pointing to a stocky man with a buzz cut and a hearty laugh.

"Nice to meet you," Natasha said, shaking his hand.

"And over there is Keith," Sam finished, motioning to a lanky guy with a lazy smile.

"Big fan of your band," Keith said, extending a hand. "I saw you play in Austin a few years ago. You crushed it."

"Thanks," Natasha replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Austin was a fun gig."

"So, Sam tells us you’re a rockstar," Jordan said, leaning on the counter of the grill station. "What’s that like?"

"Chaotic, but in the best way," Natasha said. "I get to travel, make music, and meet people. Can’t complain."

"Well, you’re in good company," Sam interjected, handing her a pair of tongs. "Think you can handle flipping some burgers, Rockstar?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow, accepting the tongs. "I think I can manage."

"Here’s the trick," Sam said, pointing closer at the grill. "You press down lightly on the patties, just enough to sear them but not too much—you don’t want to lose the juices."

Natasha mimicked his movements, flipping a burger with precision. "Like this?"

"Perfect," Sam said with a nod. He leaned back against the grill station, watching her work. "So, you’re really into this whole music thing, huh?"

"Yeah," Natasha said, glancing at him with amusement. "Is this your way of scoping me out?"

Sam laughed, shaking his head. "Nah, not really. If Y/N trusts you, that’s enough for me. She’s got good instincts."

Natasha tilted her head, studying him for a moment. "You two seem close. That’s rare for exes."

Sam shrugged, flipping another burger. "We’re a team when it comes to Isabella. She deserves the best from both of us. Besides, Y/N is one of my favorite people. It’d be dumb not to keep her in my life."

"That’s fair," Natasha admitted, handing the tongs back to him. "For the record, she’s pretty incredible."

"Don’t I know it," Sam said, a playful smirk on his face. "But, hey, don’t let me intimidate you. I’m rooting for you, Rockstar."

"Good to know," Natasha said, her tone light but her eyes sharp. She liked that Sam didn’t play games.

"Alright, let’s see if you’re as good with hot dogs as you are with burgers," Sam said, sliding a tray of sausages toward her.

"Bring it on," Natasha replied, rolling up her sleeves.

"So, y/n tells me you're going on tour," Sam began.

"Yes, it's June through October," Natasha nodded. "We start here in LA, go through the us and UK, and then end in Madison Square Garden."

"That's a pretty long time," He replied.

"Yeah, it'll be nice," She nodded.

"When does the tour start?"

"Next week," Natasha said.

"So," He paused. "Y/n won't be able to visit."

"Well, it's hard when we're touring," Natasha nodded. "Oh, she's coming with me. I figured she and Isabella could come to certain cities in the summer. Maybe even ride in the tour bus."

Sam raised an eyebrow, his tongs hovering over the grill as he flipped a burger. "The tour bus, huh? With a bunch of rockstars?"

Natasha smirked, picking up on his subtle unease. "It's not as chaotic as it sounds. We're pretty organized. And the bus is comfortable—lots of space, no wild parties with a kid around."

"Still," Sam said, rubbing the back of his neck, "having Bella on the road... That could be tough. She's got her routine—school, activities, seeing her friends. It’s not just about her, you know? Y/n too. I don’t want her feeling stretched thin trying to juggle everything."

Natasha tilted her head, acknowledging his concern. "I get it. It's a big adjustment, but it’s not like they'll be on the road the whole time. Just a few cities here and there during the summer when school’s out. Y/n’s already thought through the logistics."

Sam exhaled, his jaw tightening as he pressed on a patty with his spatula. "I’m not saying no. I know Y/n will figure it out—she’s always been good at that. I just... worry, you know? Bella needs stability. And if something goes sideways, I’d hate for her to feel stuck in the middle."

Natasha watched him for a moment, appreciating the protective edge in his voice. "I understand where you’re coming from," she said carefully. "And I know you’re looking out for her, which is good. But I also know Y/n. She wouldn’t agree to this if she didn’t think it was what was best for Bella, too. It's not my place to tell you how to parent, but I think it would be a great opportunity for her."

"I hear you," Sam said, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit. "But, I mean, a rockstar, right? That's kind of a big deal."

"It is," Natasha nodded. "But she's met everyone in the band. They all adore her and Bella. I'd never let anything bad happen to either of them."

Sam paused, studying her for a moment. "I like you Romanoff. You can flip a good burger."

Natasha knew it was the end of the conversation for the time being. Sam flipped a burger with practiced ease, his jaw tight as he stayed quiet for a beat too long. Natasha could sense his unease simmering beneath the surface, even as he kept his town.

“Look, it’s not like I don’t think Y/n’s thought this through,” he said finally, eyes fixed on the grill. “But Bella’s... she’s still a kid. And being on the road, in and out of hotels, buses—it’s not exactly a routine.”

Natasha adjusted her stance, leaning casually against the counter to match his energy. “It’s not a nine-to-five,” she agreed, keeping her tone neutral. “But it’s not like she’d be on her own. Y/n planned everything to ensure Bella’s comfort—schooling, downtime, and even the other band members. Everyone’s on board.”

Sam nodded slightly but didn’t look at her. “Yeah, well, it’s easy for everyone to be on board when it’s not their kid. I’m just saying... this is a lot to ask of her.”

Natasha resisted the urge to bristle. Instead, she tried to meet him halfway. “I get it,” she said softly. “You’re protective. You should be. But Y/n isn’t making this decision lightly. She’d never put Bella in a situation where she didn’t feel safe or secure.”

Sam flipped another patty, his movements sharp. “It’s not about Y/n. I trust her. It’s... it’s the whole thing. Bella deserves stability.”

“And she’ll have it,” Natasha said firmly, holding his gaze when he finally glanced at her. “Even on the road, she’ll have her mom, a schedule, and a whole group of people who care about her. Stability doesn’t always look the same for every family.”

Sam exhaled through his nose, clearly turning her words over in his mind. “I guess.” He paused, staring down at the grill. “Just... Y/n should’ve brought this up with me first. I feel like I’m hearing about it after it’s already decided.”

Natasha nodded, her tone softening. “That’s fair. If this hasn’t been fully talked through, you deserve that conversation. I’m not trying to overstep here. I just wanted you to know I’m in this too—for both of them.”

Sam gave her a long look, his expression unreadable. “You care about them, huh?”

“More than anything,” Natasha said simply.

He nodded, his grip on the spatula loosening. Sam nodded, picking up the spatula again. “Alright, Romanoff. I’ll talk to Y/n to ensure we’re all on the same page. But don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you flip a decent burger.”

Natasha chuckled, picking up her spatula. "Wouldn't dream of it."

***

The dance-off had been a success. Isabella and her cousins were exhausted but beaming with pride as the last notes faded. The party continued with food, laughter, and joy. The kids were excited to play in the bouncy house, and the parents were having a blast. Steve, Wanda, and the rest of the band came to celebrate, and it was a joyous occasion. Everyone coming together to celebrate Bella was beautiful, and you were grateful for your family.

It was time for you to make a small speech before you sang happy birthday to her. It was a tradition you'd started when she was little, and it was just the three of you. 

You stood before all the guests and ignored the photographer buzzing around you. These pictures and videos would only be for family mostly.

"It's Isabella's tenth birthday," You began. "I know it may seem dramatic for us to give speeches, but this is a big one. Our baby is growing up. But I am so proud of her. She's kind, smart, talented, and so much fun. We have a special girl." You motioned for Isabella to stand next to you.

"Mommy and Daddy love you so much. You are so special," Sam continued.

"We love you, princess," You grinned. "Happy birthday."

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," Sam echoed.

Everyone clapped as the birthday song was sung.

"You ready for your cake?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Isabella beamed.

"Okay," You laughed. You leaned over, taking a moment to swipe a piece of icing to tap on her nose. "I love you, baby girl." You kissed her cheek as Sam kissed the other side.

"Love you, Bella," Sam added.

"Love you, Daddy," Isabella giggled. "Love you, Mama."

"Okay, let's get this show on the road," You clapped.

The rest of the party went off without a hitch. Isabella opened her presents and was thrilled. She loved everything she'd received, which was so special to watch. Her cousins and friends stayed over to enjoy the bouncy house, and all the parents were having a blast. You had your arm around Natasha's waist as you watched Isabella continue to bounce. It was a great way to end the night. 

--->

Hotel California | Track 2 - Electric Desires

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 7.2k

Chapter 2/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Each chapter is hella long because I had time to sit and wait to release this one. Weekly updates might be the wave.

R and Nat will be moving quickly so if you like slow burn this isn't the story lol.

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

Natasha sat cross-legged on the worn-out couch in their cluttered studio: which was just Tony’s garage. The room buzzed with creative energy and the faint scent of old leather, a familiar combination that fueled the essence of Velvet Rebellion. She strummed her guitar absentmindedly, her fingers dancing over the fretboard, creating a gentle hum in the room. She was in her element in full force. 

Steve, Bucky, Wanda, and Tony were huddled around a battered coffee table, scraps of lyrics, and scribbled notes strewn about like confetti after a wild party. They were her bandmates, her comrades in music, and tonight they were deep into a songwriting session. Natasha enjoyed days like this the most. She often found the songwriting process frustrating but fulfilling, which is why they’re on hour four of this session with only the first verse written. It seems she’s not the only one with writer’s block. 

"Natasha, we need something here," Steve’s voice cut through the room's creative haze. He furrowed his brow, fingers dancing over the keys of a vintage synthesizer. "A melody to tie this verse together."

Natasha tore her gaze away from her guitar and glanced over at Wanda. Her fingers stopped mid-strum. She blinked; her thoughts momentarily disrupted.

"Nat, you with us?" Tony chimed in, his eyes darting between Natasha and his laptop.

A flush of embarrassment washed over Natasha. She'd been lost in thought, her mind wandering where it shouldn't have. She’d been thinking about you again. She couldn’t get you out of her head. There was a hint of exhaustion on her features as she sat her guitar next to her. She’d spent the previous night going down a rabbit hole of YouTube videos involving you. It seemed you’d understated how good of a musician you were. Natasha discovered you had a small fanbase with plenty of videos dedicated to your brief yet impactful career. Even if your resume included a lot of backup singing, she could see why there was a push for you to strive for something more. You were talented in every sense of the word. 

With a sheepish smile, she nodded. "Sorry, guys. Got a bit distracted there."

She fumbled to put her phone face down on the coffee table, hoping her bandmates hadn't noticed her constant glances at the silent screen. Natasha had been replaying every moment of your brief encounter at the party in her mind, questioning if she'd made a connection or if it was just another fleeting moment.

Steve’s fingers continued their dance on the synthesizer as he tried out different melodies, his voice soft, almost hypnotic. "No worries, Nat. Happens to the best of us."

But Natasha couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration with herself. She was the lead singer and lyricist and usually held everything together. Yet today, her mind was scattered, torn between music and an unexpected, lingering hope that her phone would light up with a message from someone she'd barely known.

Natasha's fingers deftly reached for her well-worn writing book, nestled among scattered lyrics and half-finished songs. Her eyes scanned the pages, searching for something that had evaded her for far too long. Her bandmates carried on their musical discussion, oblivious to her momentary distraction.

Finally, she found it—a scribbled idea that had haunted her thoughts for weeks but had remained unreachable, refusing to take a tangible form. Natasha's heart raced as she read the words, her handwriting staring back at her, challenging her to bring them to life.

"Guys, hold on a sec," she called out, her voice trembling with excitement. Her bandmates stopped their conversation, turning their attention to her. Natasha's fingers tapped the page she'd found. "I think I've got something."

Wanda leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "What is it?"

Natasha cleared her throat and began to read the lyrics she'd unearthed, her voice carrying a hint of the sweet melody she envisioned:

"Underneath the city lights, I saw your face,

In the crowded room, you were my saving grace.

A glance, a smile, it all fell into place,

In that moment, I knew, love's tender embrace."

As Natasha recited the lyrics, Wanda's eyes widened, and she nodded appreciatively. "That's beautiful, Natasha."

Natasha couldn't help but blush at the compliment. She felt the lyrics were deeply personal, a reflection of the emotions she'd been grappling with. "Thanks, Wanda. But I think it's missing something."

Wanda leaned in closer, her fingers lightly grazing Natasha's arm as they huddled together over the writing book. "What do you have in mind?"

A spark of inspiration flickered in Natasha's eyes. "How about this? Instead of just a glance and a smile, it's about meeting someone and falling in love at first sight. The moment your heart skips a beat."

Wanda's lips curved into a knowing smile. "I like that. It adds depth to the story."

With renewed enthusiasm, Natasha began to sing the modified lyrics, her voice filled with emotion:

"In the heart of the city, I met your eyes,

In that instant, I felt my soul take flight.

Love at first sight, a sweet surprise,

Two worlds colliding, under starry skies."

The words flowed effortlessly, weaving a sweet melody that resonated with everyone in the room. Sitting behind his drum kit, Tony started tapping a rhythm, adding a pulsating beat to the song. Steve found his way back to the keyboard, his fingers searching for the chords that matched the melody.

The studio came alive with the energy of collaboration as they played off each other, improvising and experimenting. Wanda's voice dipped into low notes, adding a haunting harmony, while Tony began to find a mix to add to the music. 

It wasn't the final product but the magic of creation—their music taking shape from a mere spark of inspiration. Natasha couldn't help but smile as they continued to refine the song. 

Bucky sat down his guitar, a sly grin playing on his lips as the melody they'd created together hung in the air. He couldn't help but feel a shift in Natasha's usual songwriting style, one that intrigued him. "Nat, you're getting into writing love songs now?"

Natasha shot him a playful yet challenging look, her fingers still scribbling along the notebook pages. "Oh, please, Bucky. We had love songs on our first album."

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. "Not like this. These lyrics, they're something else."

Natasha sighed, closing the tiny notebook again. She knew he was right, and she couldn't deny the shift in her lyrics and her emotions. "Alright, fine. Maybe I am writing a love song."

Bucky leaned forward, his gaze intense. "So, are you in love, Natasha?"

She met his gaze head-on. "No, Bucky. I'm not."

Bucky nodded in understanding, sensing the unspoken annoyance in her words. Natasha had always been guarded about matters of the heart, and they respected her boundaries. They returned to their instruments, each lost in their thoughts, letting the music speak the words that couldn't be said.

********************

The leotard store was an arrangement of colors, and Isabella, your spirited nine-year-old daughter, was bouncing between the racks, playing her own game of hide-and-seek with the endless collection of spandex. Her enthusiasm for picking out leotards rivaled her passion for gymnastics.

"Mama, check this one out! It's super sparkly!" Isabella shouted, triumphantly holding up a leotard adorned with sequins like a little treasure hunter.

You and Monica shared a knowing smile as you surveyed the options. "Great choice, Bella," you replied, trying to match her enthusiasm. "Let's add it to the pile."

Isabella nodded, seemingly satisfied, and skipped off in pursuit of her next leotard conquest.

As Monica and you continued your search, your mind drifted back to a conversation you’d had at Harley's party just a couple of weeks ago. There was a woman there, a stranger to you, who had engaged you in a conversation that had held your attention for longer than you’d expected.

"Hey, y/n" Monica began, her tone a mix of curiosity and amusement. She sifted through the clothes, trying to understand what she was looking for. Isabella had a very specific taste.  "Are you going to finally tell me about the woman from the party? You two seemed to be hitting it off."

You glanced at Monica, feeling somewhat caught off guard. "Oh, that? It was just a casual conversation. I doubt it's anything worth dwelling on."

Monica raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with your dismissal. "Just a casual conversation? You looked pretty into her. What's her name?"

You sighed, knowing Monica wouldn't let it go quickly. "Her name is Natasha Romanoff. She’s the lead singer of that band. Velvet Rebellion. We talked for a while. But honestly, I haven't reached out to her or anything." You shrugged. 

Monica persisted, undeterred. "She’s cute. I’ve heard a couple of their songs in passing. Why haven’t you called her?"

You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers unconsciously fussing with a leotard on the rack. "Life's been hectic lately. I've barely had a moment to breathe, let alone call someone."

Isabella, who had overheard your conversation while meticulously assessing leotards with the discerning eye of a seasoned fashion critic, joined in. "Mom, you should call her."

You couldn't help but smile at Isabella's straightforward logic. "You focus on the leotards. You only need a few for now. You’re growing like a weed."

Monica and Isabella exchanged amused glances, both united in their disbelief. "The kid is right," Monica declared, her eyes dancing with mischief.

Isabella nodded in agreement, adding her hint of authority. "I’m just saying." She held up a pink leotard and you shook your head. The cut wasn’t appropriate in your opinion. She returned the leotard to the rack with a sigh and went to a new one. 

Monica's curiosity was relentless, and she wasn't about to let the topic of the woman from Harley's party go. As you continued looking through the racks with Isabella's energy bounding around you, she probed further.

"Come on, y/n, what's the big deal about calling her?" Monica inquired, a mischievous glint in her eye.

You sighed, trying to choose your words carefully. "Mon, you know their band's reputation. The tabloids haven’t been so easy on them. Especially with them being new. Trust me I’ve checked.” You shook your head. “And besides, Natasha used to date Carol Danvers. We’re not friends, but we’re not exactly enemies either. I’m not in the business of going behind her back. It was a bad breakup if it’s anything like the tabloids say and I don't want to risk the same fate."

Monica raised an eyebrow, her expression one of bemused disbelief. “You're not even dating this Natasha person yet. It could be a fun fling or something. You don't have to jump into a full-blown relationship. Also, you hate Carol Danvers."

“I don’t hate her,” You refuted her claims. “I simply enjoy spending my time in spaces that don’t have her in them.” You couldn't deny Monica's point, but the cautious side of you still hesitated. "Also, I know it doesn’t have to be more than what it is. But I've been down that road before, and it wasn't pretty. Besides, I don't want to have this conversation in front of Isabella."

You leaned down to pass a few leotards to Isabella and whispered to her, "Sweetie, can you go find some shoes that match these leotards? That would be a big help."

Isabella nodded enthusiastically, her focus shifting from the leotards to her newfound mission. As she scampered off in search of the perfect shoes, you turned your attention back to Monica.

Monica gave you an understanding look, her voice lowered. "Alright, I get it, y/n,  But don't let the past hold you back from something potentially great. You deserve happiness, too. Even if that means you fuck a few times and that’s it."

“Monica,” Your eyes widened, clearly scandalized by her bluntness. 

“Am I lying?” Monica held up a hand. “When’s the last time you had some? You don’t know do you?”

“I do know. It hasn’t been that long.” You considered her words. You thought back to the very brief casual sex thing you had with a woman around last year. Or was it two years ago? “You’re right I don’t know.” 

“See,” Monica leaned against a rack. “Ask her out to the party tonight. It’s a group thing. I get to vet her. You get to see her. We all win.”

“Fine, fine,” You shake your head. 

“Call her now,” Monica nodded. 

“Um, she’s probably busy.” You furrowed your brow. Another excuse from you. 

“She’ll answer,” Monica said assuredly. “Do it or I’ll dm her myself.”

“Don’t you dare,” You held up a warning finger to Monica. Sometimes your best friend’s forwardness wasn’t welcome. Even if she meant well. She raised a brow at you before pointedly looking toward your purse. “Fine.” You grumbled as you took out your phone. 

You walked to a quieter corner of the store, away from the bustle and the excited chatter of Isabella and Monica, who were now hunting for beam shoes. You scrolled through your contacts until you found Natasha's name. With a deep breath, you pressed the call button.

On the first ring, Natasha's voice came through, calm and confident. "Hello?"

You couldn't help but smile, though your attempt to sound equally composed might have come off as forced. "Hey, Natasha. How's everything going?"

“Oh, it’s you,” Natasha's tone change was evident. "Everything's good. I've been wondering when you'd call."

You felt a rush of relief hearing that she'd been waiting for your call. "I'm sorry it took me a while. Life's been crazy lately, and, well, you know how it is."

Natasha's tone shifted slightly, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness. "I do know. But you don't need to be nervous. It's just a call."

You chuckled softly, feeling a bit more at ease. "You're right. I've just been out of practice with this whole...courting thing."

“Courting? Is that what we’re doing?” Natasha's voice lowered, the flirtatious edge unmistakable. "Well, maybe we can help you get back into practice."

You couldn't help but blush, even though she couldn't see it over the phone. "That sounds like a plan."

Just then, you heard Isabella's excited voice in the background, likely showing off a pair of beam shoes she'd found. Natasha must have heard it too.

"Sounds like you've got company," Natasha noted. 

Just as you were about to respond to Natasha, Isabella's excited voice carried through the phone in the background. "Mama, look at these beam shoes! They're so cool!"

You grinned and chuckled softly. "That's my daughter, Isabella."

Natasha's voice held a hint of warmth. "She sounds like a lively girl."

“She is,” You nodded. You give Isabella a thumbs-up and a smile. "Listen, Natasha," you began, "there's something I wanted to mention. There's a party tonight at this great club called Heatwave. Have you heard of it?”

“Yes, I’ve been there once or twice,” Natasha replied.

“Well, I don't usually go out much, but I'll be there. It would be great if you could join."

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then Natasha's voice returned, filled with a sense of anticipation. "Heatwave, huh? I'll stop by."

Your heart skipped a beat at her response. It seemed that, despite your initial hesitation, the possibility of something exciting and new was on the horizon, and you couldn't help but look forward to seeing Natasha at the party tonight.

“What time should I be there?” Natasha questioned. 

“I like to put Bella to bed before going out,” You informed her. “My mother will be watching her, so I’d say around nine. Does that work for you?”

“That works for me,” Natasha agreed. 

“Okay then, Natasha,” You smiled, wondering if she could hear it in your voice. “I’ll see you then.”

“Great, see you then.” Natasha mirrored your excitement. You hung up the phone and tucked it into your back pocket. You walked back over to Monica, trying to hide your excitement, but she noticed immediately. 

She gave you a silent questioning look and you give her a thumbs up in return. This should be fun. 

***********************

Back inside the recording studio, the band was wrapping up what turned out to be a successful recording session. They’d written one song so far and revised a few Natasha had in her back pocket for times like this. Which was the most progress they’d gotten in a year. Either way, it was a session that left them fulfilled. Natasha stood in front of the microphone, her voice still echoing in the room. She exchanged satisfied smiles with her bandmates before returning her wired headphones to their stand. 

As they wrapped up their belongings Steve spoke up, "Alright, Natasha, we nailed it today. What's the plan for tonight?"

Natasha leaned back against the soundboard, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Oh, you know me, Steve. I'm a creature of habit."

Steve chuckled, "Yeah, we all are, aren't we? It's one big codependent family."

Natasha nodded, her red hair cascading around her shoulders. "True, but you guys like it that way."

Steve smirked, "And you do too."

Natasha sighed playfully, "Alright, you caught me. I have a thing."

The moment she mentioned 'a thing,' the rest of the group became intrigued. Tony, Bucky, and Wanda started bombarding her with questions, eager to know more. They were known for their tight-knit bond, often spending their evenings together.

Tony asked, grinning, "What kind of thing? Spill the beans, Red!"

Natasha tried to deny it, but under the pressure of their excited curiosity, she finally admitted, "Okay, okay! I'm going to Heatwave, a club downtown. I'm meeting up with a new friend."

Immediately, it was settled - if Natasha was going out, they were all going out. Tony's eyes gleamed with mischief, "Sounds like a party! Can we come too?"

Natasha hesitated for a moment, thinking about the guys' tendency to get a little rowdy. Then she relented, "Alright, fine. We can all go."

Steve high-fived Tony, and Bucky and Wanda exchanged excited glances. "This is gonna be awesome!" Steve exclaimed. Though he wasn’t much of a partier he loved exploring new places. 

Natasha couldn't help but grin at their enthusiasm, "Yeah, let's hope it's good, then."

With the decision made, the band members packed up their instruments, ready for another night on the town. 

*****************

As you stood before the bathroom mirror in your finest party outfit, face and hair all done up, the room around you painted a stark contrast. The soft notes of Beyonce’s “Yes” played in the background as you prepared for your night out. The bathroom was a chaotic scene, messy and disheveled, with makeup and hair curlers scattered haphazardly. Clothes lay strewn on the floor and over the edge of the bathtub. The countertop was cluttered with various cosmetic products, their caps discarded carelessly.

A hairbrush, half-buried under a pile of clothes, seemed to have given up on its role in maintaining order. The floor bore the evidence of spilled powders and makeup brushes discarded in haste.

Isabella, standing in the doorway, disapproved of this sight. Her usually tidy nature couldn't help but frown at the disarray. With her wide, disapproving eyes, she silently conveyed her thoughts to you. “Why must it be so messy in here?”

“Must? I knew I was creating a bougie child,” You laughed to yourself, applying the final remnants of your makeup.

“I’m not bougie. I just go to a good school,” Isabella quipped. She stood with her arms folded her expression showing her unhappiness with the looks of your room. 

"I know I pay the high tuition bill remember?" You mutter. Sierra Canyon was a school worth every bit of the $35,000 tuition. Even if it did hurt you to sign that check every year. “Well, I’ll pay you twenty dollars to clean it up,” You offer.

“Forty and we have a deal,” She counters. 

“Forty?” You asked incredulously. 

“Inflation, Mama,” Isabella explains as if it’s obvious. “My favorite toys aren’t cheap anymore.”

“I see,” You mumble. “You drive a hard bargain, but you have a deal.” You turn back to the mirror. 

You did a spin to get Isabella’s final say. You wore a black backless draped split dress that reached mid-thigh, perfectly complemented by your sleek, hair slicked into a bun with two small bangs framing your face. The finishing touches of makeup were precise, accentuating your features with a subtle, smoky eye and a deep red lip. 

“You look really good,” Isabella nodded. 

“Not too trampy?” You asked and she shook her head. 

“Not,” Isabella said. 

“You know that was kind of a test and you failed?” You sighed. “Your dad lets you watch reality TV at his place again?”

“Maybe,” Isabella pretended to zip her lips and throw away the key. She was not one to tell. 

You couldn't help but smile. You bent down to Isabella's level and planted a series of gentle kisses all over her cheeks, as she mostly wiped them off with a giggle. 

“Oh, Isabella Marie, my little artist," You chuckled, feigning scandalization. "You've ruined my masterpiece!"

Isabella just laughed, her eyes sparkling with admiration for you. She reached up to touch the necklace you were wearing, a subtle gesture of appreciation.

You took Isabella's hand and said, "Come on, it's time for bed."

“I really should try to convince you to let me stay up later,” Isabella commented as she allowed you to drag her out to the living room. 

You made your way to her bedroom, where you tucked her in with great care.

“Did you brush your teeth?” You asked as you rearranged her pillows. 

“Yep,” Isabella nodded. “And I washed my face.”

“Good girl,” You praised her. 

As you smoothed the covers over Isabella and adjusted her stuffed animals, Isabella reminded you with a bright smile, "Mama, remember, I have Lenny’s skating birthday party tomorrow. You said we'd go together."

You leaned in and kissed Isabella's forehead, making sure to wipe her face free of your makeup, as your heart warmed by your daughter's excitement. "Of course. We’ll be there. Now sleep, I love you.”

“Read me a story?” She begged in anticipation of your answer. 

“One story,” You warned her before walking over to her bookshelf. You grabbed Hair Love by Matthew Cherry, one of her favorites these days. You sat beside her, offering her your best voice as you began to read to her. Isabella leaned into your body. When you were done, her eyes drooped with drowsiness as she whispered a contented, "Goodnight, Mama.”

“Goodnight, my precious girl. Sweet dreams." You turned off the bedside lamp, leaving the room in a warm, cozy darkness. With one final kiss, you left Isabella to her dreams. 

With your preparations complete, you rushed out of Isabella’s bedroom and headed for the kitchen. Time was of the essence. In your hurry, you grabbed your purse and a bottle of water from the fridge. With a sigh of relief, you twisted open the cap and took a long, refreshing sip.

As you did, your mother entered the kitchen, her gaze appraising your outfit with a discerning eye.

"You're going out looking like that?" Her mother's tone was a mix of concern and disapproval.

“What don’t you like my outfit?” You turned to face her with a determined look. Your mother sighed but said nothing. "Yes, Mom. I've already put Isabella to bed, and I'll be back by two at the latest."

Your mother's expression softened, but she couldn't hide her worry. "Y/n, you know I worry when you go out so late."

You smiled reassuringly. "I know, Mom, but I never go out anymore. It’s all mom's life and work. I just want to have some fun with friends tonight. I promise to be careful."

“That only makes me feel slightly better,” She shook her head. 

"I'll leave my phone on in case of an emergency, okay?" You promised her. 

Your mother nodded; her eyes filled with maternal concern. "Alright, but you better answer if I call."

You laughed softly and hugged your mother. "I promise. You can count on me."

With a final smile and a quick kiss on her cheek, you left the kitchen, hoping to catch your Uber before it was too late. 

************

As Natasha and the rest of Velvet Rebellion arrived at Heatwave, the vibrant thump of bass and the lively chatter of the crowd spilled into the street. The atmosphere was electric, and it was clear that the club lived up to its reputation. There was a line wrapped around the entrance, everyone attempting to get to the same point. 

Natasha was sure they would be able to get in unscathed. However, as they approached the entrance, it became evident that someone had tipped off the paparazzi about their plans. As soon as they exited the car, flashbulbs began to pop, and reporters shouted questions. Natasha and Wanda, not yet accustomed to such situations, swiftly made their way inside, their confidence unshaken.

The boys followed closely behind, with security personnel discreetly positioned around them. However, the security was mostly unnecessary. Velvet Rebellion wasn't a superstar band, and they had no intention of acting like one. They were here to enjoy the music and the vibes, just like any other patrons.

Once inside, the pulsating rhythm of the club enveloped them. Heatwave was a mix of hip-hop, reggae, rock, and everything in between. The diverse crowd danced and mingled, creating an intoxicating blend of cultures and energies. The dimly lit club was a sanctuary for adults, a place where the music was loud, and the energy was contagious.

Natasha and her bandmates moved deeper into the club, losing themselves in the music and the seamless fusion of genres. The vibes were indeed immaculate, and they were ready to savor every moment of the night, leaving their fame behind for a while and simply being themselves - music lovers enjoying a night out.

Wanda, swept up in the excitement of the club's atmosphere, leaned in closer to Natasha and shouted over the thumping bass, "Hey, Nat I'll find us a booth! Tony's going to grab drinks for everyone!"

Natasha nodded and gave her a thumbs-up before deciding to excuse herself to the bathroom. The path to the restroom was a maze of dancing bodies and neon lights. A few girls recognized her and attempted to approach her for autographs or selfies, but Natasha simply smiled and waved, preferring to do things in peace. She could feel the presence of her security guard, Mike, behind her as she stepped into the bathroom. He waited outside of course. 

After freshening up in the bathroom, Natasha emerged and found herself back in the crowded club. As she navigated the sea of people, she accidentally bumped into someone. Before she could react, her security personnel stepped forward, ready to intervene. However, Natasha recognized the person she had bumped into and quickly raised a hand to stop her security detail.

“Mike, it’s okay,” Natasha nodded to him. 

It was you.  A hint of amusement danced in your eyes as you noted the security presence. You couldn't help but think of the time when you, too, needed security. Back when your father was at the height of his career. Now not so much. 

Despite the loud music, you managed to engage in a conversation, leaning close to hear each other over the thumping bass.

Natasha, with a playful smile, observed you, her eyes raking over your bad in a way that sent chills up your spine. "You look stunning tonight. That dress suits you."

"Why, thank you, Natasha. You look great too.” You lightly touched her arm. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Me too.” Natasha shouted over the music. "Life's been busy."

You nodded in understanding, "Tell me about it. It's been a whirlwind."

Natasha's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "What's new with you? How have you been?"

You leaned in closer, your lips almost brushing against Natasha's ear as you shouted above the music. "Lots of work, but tonight, I'm here to let loose. What about you? Any new songs in the works?"

Natasha nodded with a grin. "Always working on something.”

“That’s good then,” You smile back. You blink at her through your thick lashes before your eyes scan the room. “I see you brought your friends.”

“I have,” Natasha stepped a bit closer, though it was subtle, and you didn’t notice. You liked feeling the warmth radiating from her. “They wouldn’t let me come alone.”

“Gotta love them,” You joked. “Care to dance?” You ask. 

“Lead the way,” Natasha takes your hand as you drag her onto the dance floor. She pretends she’s not checking out your ass but when you look back you nearly catch her. Funny. 

Just as you and Natasha hit the dance floor, the DJ transitioned into a surprising mix of "What Is Love" by Haddaway and "In Da Club" by 50 Cent. The blend of the '90s dance classic and the early 2000s hip-hop anthem was unexpectedly catchy, and the crowd roared in approval.

Natasha was a fantastic dancer, her movements fluid and precise. You were equally impressive, managing to keep up with Natasha's rhythm effortlessly. Your bodies moved in perfect sync as you joined the sea of people on the dance floor.

The atmosphere was lively, energetic, and incredibly fun. Laughter and cheers filled the air as the club-goers embraced the unexpected combination of music with enthusiasm. The dance floor seemed to vibrate with the collective joy of everyone present.

You couldn't help but enjoy having Natasha so close. Her skin against your fingertips felt like heaven. The way her hands rested gently against your back. It was intimate, warm, and sensual despite the tempo of the music. 

As the music continued to pulse through the club and once you were all danced out, bodies slick with sweat, you led Natasha to a booth where her bandmates were already seated. Their faces lit up with excitement as they spotted Natasha. It’s then you noticed Monica was already sitting amongst the rockstars somehow having made it past security. 

“There you are,” Monica smiled sweetly. “You two were on fire out there. I was just making friends with our new family.” She said despite the quizzical looks. You reciprocated her hug as you whispered low into her ear. 

“I hate you so much,” You growled. 

“I love you too,” Monica laughed. 

"Natasha, this is Monica," you said, introducing your best friend to the redhead. 

Monica extended a friendly hand and smiled, though there was a hint of suspicion in her eyes. "Nice to meet you, Natasha."

Natasha returned the smile warmly, "Likewise, Monica."

As everyone settled into the booth, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Monica was cautious but kind, warming up to Natasha as they chatted about various topics. The club atmosphere had a way of breaking down barriers, and it wasn't long before they were all laughing and enjoying each other's company.

Somewhere along the way, the group decided to order a mix of different foods and drinks, sharing bites and sips as the night wore on. On the booth, Natasha sat next to you, the two of you sharing a closeness that was hard to ignore. During the lively conversations and the infectious rhythm of the music, Natasha couldn't shake the feeling that someone in the crowd had their phone out, possibly recording you. The thought bothered her, but you kept her engaged and distracted, your charm and energy captivating.

There was a break in the peace Natasha felt as her sharp eyes caught sight of her ex-girlfriend, Carol Danvers, making her way towards the booth. Natasha knew that this could potentially lead to a problem, so she decided to intercept Carol before things escalated. 

“Excuse me for a moment,” Natasha sighed. She was not expecting this to happen tonight of all nights. You watch the two of them walk away before turning your attention back to the group. It was none of your business. "Carol, hi, let me talk to you.” Natasha wanted to take action before the mess. The last thing she needed was a problem when there was none. 

She gently guided Carol to a more private corner where the music was lower, allowing them to have a conversation without distractions. As they stood facing each other, Natasha's demeanor was polite but distant. She wasn't fond of talking to Carol but wanted to ensure she was okay.

“I see you’re having fun,” Carol rubbed her sweaty hands against her jeans. Her eyes looked a little bloodshot, the deep bags being covered by concealer and heavy makeup. In all honesty, Natasha could tell Carol was not in her correct frame of mind. Whether that was due to lack of sleep or something else wasn’t her responsibility.  Carol's voice quivered with emotion as she spoke, "You look good."

“Thank you,” Natasha sighed and shook her head, her expression a mix of sadness and resolution. "Carol, it's not worth it. We've been through this."

“I know,” Carol nodded. “I just wanted to say hello.” 

Natasha found Carol’s meek demeanor unsettling. It was so unlike her. Again, not her problem. 

“Look, it was good to see you,” Natasha peaked back at the booth to see you were laughing with Monica about something. “Take care of yourself.” Natasha rubs a hand over Carol’s arm before walking away. She was not in the mood to be dealing with this right now. When she sits down again, it takes a moment for her to reacclimate with the group, her feelings of dread and the aftermath of the breakup all taking over again. 

You noticed the change in her demeanor and decided to check in on her.

With genuine concern in your eyes, you asked softly, "Natasha, is everything okay?"

Natasha tried to feign a smile, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... old memories, you know?"

You nodded, understanding that sometimes the past had a way of sneaking up on you. You decided to lift the mood by embracing the party spirit. As fans approached you for pictures, only allowed with the say-so of security, you graciously obliged, even though you weren’t used to so much attention. Having a famous family meant everyone assumed you were someone to know too.  The smiles on their faces and their gratitude brought a spark of joy to the night.

However, Natasha's mood didn't seem to improve. You could see the lingering discomfort on her face and sensed that Natasha might need a change of scenery. You leaned in closer to Natasha and asked, "You sure you're okay, Natasha? If you want, we can get out of here."

Natasha appreciated your concern and gave you a small, genuine smile. "Isn’t this your friend’s party?”

“Alicia? She’ll understand,” You grinned. “I’m a mom.” You shrug. 

“How many times have you used that excuse?” Natasha questioned. 

“Once or twice,” You laughed. 

“I think that might be a good idea then." Natasha leaned over to whisper to Wanda that she was leaving. Wanda narrowed her eyes between the two of you but ultimately said nothing. 

“Monica, I’m leaving with Natasha,” You informed your best friend. “I love you.” “Love you too,” Monica smiled briefly. “Call me tomorrow and tell me everything.” She said a bit lower. 

“I will,” You roll your eyes. 

As you made your way towards the exit, Natasha felt grateful for your understanding and support. As you neared the club's exit, you leaned in closer to Natasha and suggested, "Let's use the back exit. It's a quicker way out, and we can avoid the paparazzi."

Natasha nodded in agreement, appreciating your thoughtfulness. She followed you towards the inconspicuous back exit, with Mike, Natasha's security guard, close behind. The corridor was dimly lit, and the sounds of the club faded away with each step.

Walking side by side, you and Natasha found a comfortable silence between you. Natasha appreciated the quiet respite after the club's raucousness. 

Then, without hesitation, you reached out and gently took Natasha's hand. It was a bold move, and Natasha's heart skipped a beat. The connection felt warm and reassuring, 

Natasha looked at you, her eyes softening with gratitude. Your fingers entwined, as you continued down the dimly lit sidewalk together, taking comfort in the simple act of holding hands, a gesture of comfort and support.

“Downtown Los Angeles is not exactly the safest place to hang out at night,” You point out. 

“Did you have anywhere in mind?” Natasha questions. “I’m not really ready to go home yet.’

“How about here?” You point to the restaurant just across the street. It was settled. 

You and Natasha walked into the small Japanese food restaurant and were greeted by a soothing ambiance of sleek and modern dining. The interior featured clean lines, polished wooden tables, and elegant, dimmed lighting that created a cozy yet sophisticated atmosphere. The walls were adorned with tasteful Japanese-inspired artwork, adding to the restaurant's aesthetic appeal.

Despite the late hour, they were still open, and there weren't many people left in the restaurant. The subdued chatter of a few diners in hushed conversations added to the tranquil atmosphere.

The restaurant staff welcomed you and Natasha with warm smiles, happy to accommodate your late-night visit. You were ushered to a well-appointed table with comfortable seating, creating a sense of intimacy in the otherwise empty space.

Once seated, you took the lead in order, your familiarity with the menu evident. You chose the baked crab hand rolls, a delectable choice known for its rich flavors and delicate textures, and edamame with a sprinkle of salt for a simple and satisfying appetizer.

Natasha decided to indulge in a sushi sampler, intrigued by the restaurant's offerings. She also ordered drinks for you to share, wanting to continue the evening in a relaxed and enjoyable manner, free from the distractions of the outside world.

As you waited for the food to arrive, you turned your attention to Natasha, your expression carrying a hint of concern.

"Natasha, "You began hesitantly, "Can you tell me more about Carol? Should I be worried about her showing up like that?"

Natasha sighed, recognizing the need for honesty. She leaned in, speaking softly, "Carol is my ex-girlfriend. We used to be really close, and she was a good person, but lately, she's been caught up in the wrong crowd. I've been trying to keep my distance from all of that."

Caught up in the wrong crowd could mean a host of things in the industry. Drugs were usually the most common. Though you didn't press for her to elaborate.

You listened attentively, her concern deepening. "Do you think she's going to be a problem?"

Natasha could see your question for what it was. Was she going to be a problem in whatever potential the two of you could have? 

Natasha shook her head, her gaze reassuring. "No, nothing like that. She's just... lost, for now. I don't want you to worry about it. I'm doing my best to stay out of any trouble, especially now."

You nodded, appreciating Natasha's honesty and the effort she was making to ensure your time together was free from complications. You reached out and gently squeezed Natasha's hand, silently conveying your support. 

You leaned in closer and admitted, "I understand, Natasha. My ex and I co-parent Isabella, and it wasn't always easy either. But we've found our way." You shrugged. 

Natasha appreciated the understanding and felt a connection with you as you shared your experiences. 

Then, the conversation took a different turn, and Natasha's curiosity got the better of her. She leaned in with a playful glint in her eyes and said, "Alright, enough about my drama. I want to know more about you. You downplayed your singing career at the party. Backup?”

“You’ve done your research,” You chuckled at the playful teasing but then became more serious as you responded, "You're right. Singing has always been my love, my passion. But the demanding career and the lack of privacy that comes with it gets to you after a while. That's why I love being a publicist. It allows me to stay in the industry that I adore but from a different angle, more behind the scenes. It gives me room to breathe and a sense of control over my life."

Natasha nodded in understanding, appreciating your candor. She could see the sincerity in your eyes as you spoke about your career and the choices you had made. It was clear that you had found a balance that worked for you, and Natasha respected you for it.

When the food arrived, you immediately dug into your meal. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you asked Natasha, "Do you and your band have a publicist or a manager?"

Natasha smirked playfully, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Is it that obvious? I guess it's the many times Tony's been arrested.” Natasha began to list. “Or the time I punched paparazzi for trying to take a picture at an awkward angle.” She grimaced. 

You couldn't help but laugh at Natasha's observation. "Well, those incidents might have given it away a bit."

Natasha's smile faded slightly as she confessed, "Honestly, I know we need someone to manage us, but I've never felt entirely comfortable with the idea. It's like giving up a piece of our freedom and creativity. We've managed so far, but I know it can't go on like this forever."

You nodded in understanding, recognizing the challenges that came with managing a successful music career independently. You asked, "Do you have anyone in mind for the role, someone you might trust enough to bring into the fold?"

Natasha thought for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "Possibly. It's a big decision, and I want to make sure it's the right fit for us, you know? We've been doing this our way for so long that it's hard to let go."

“Well, when you’re ready, I’m your gal,” You offered your services. “I also may have a few wild cards that would work perfectly.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Natasha sips from her cup. 

As the night drew to a close, you found yourselves waiting on a quiet street corner for your Uber to arrive. The bustling energy of the club was a distant memory, replaced by the calm of the late-night city.

Natasha looked at you with a genuine smile and said, "I had a lot of fun tonight, y/n. Thank you."

You returned the smile, your heart warmed by Natasha's words. "I did too, Natasha. It was great getting to know you."

The streets were mostly empty, and the city was bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. There was a moment of silence as you stood together, the unspoken tension of the night hanging in the air.

Then, as if guided by an invisible force, Natasha leaned in and softly pressed her lips against yours. It was a gentle, lingering kiss that sent shivers down your spine. Your cheeks flushed, but you couldn't help but smile.

Breaking the kiss, you teased, "Well, that's a surprise ending for the night."

Natasha chuckled and replied, "I couldn't resist."

“Don’t worry, I liked it,” You grinned. You leaned forward, kissing Natasha again, lingering when your lips pressed before you pulled back. 

The distant sound of the approaching Uber pulled you back to reality. Your ride had arrived. You exchanged one last lingering look, a silent acknowledgment of the connection you had shared that evening.

With a soft goodbye, you climbed into the waiting car, and Natasha watched as it drove away into the night. As she walked away, Natasha couldn't help but smile, feeling grateful for the unexpected and unforgettable night she had just experienced.

---> next part

omg this was SO much fun

My Gift to You

Thank you so much. I have reached 1k (I’ll post photo proof in my emotional, sappy post later). For now, thank you, and I hope you enjoy what is linked below.

1k Celebration Link.

*please note, I did place warnings for smut, but I did not place warnings for angst. If you do not want to read angst, you can message me privately and I can let you know about some stuffs So that you avoid it.

SO CUTEEE

Sun-kissed by an angel | n romanoff

summary: the perfect lazy morning in the Romanoff summer beach house

wc: 1.5k

notes: I know I’ve been MIA for a while, but I’m back with a short but soft and fluffy oneshot. I wish this was my life tbh, I feel like a beach holiday and a cozy morning with a hot girl would make my life so much better

-⧗-

The gentle tickle of the ocean breeze brushed across the sleeping woman’s exposed skin, stirring her from her heavy slumber with the promise of sun. It dappled through the open curtains of the balcony doors, but the light wasn’t harsh like it usually was. Many days had started just like this, crumpled sheets and exposed limbs being warmed by the dazzling sun. Y/n blinked to adjust to the brightness, stretching her limbs out across the expanse of soft white blankets, frowning as her palms landed upon nothing but fabric. The bed was larger, far bigger than any she’d slept in before, but it felt even bigger without her person by her side.

Waking up with the sea view directly in front of her was a dream but even the gentle rolling waves didn’t quite tug the smile back to her lips as she swung her legs out of bed and let her feet land upon the sanded hardwood floor. Without pulling on anything to cover her blue pyjama shorts set, she wandered down the hallway of the country style house, passing the photo covered walls and airy windows, until she reached the kitchen.

The radio on the windowsill crackled out nostalgic tunes and Y/n paused in the doorway, taking in the sight before her. The redheaded woman she adored with her whole heart was swaying softly to the music, the oversized white button down that adorned her body hanging loosely from her shoulders and stopping mid thigh. The large window above the sink was wide open, letting in a deliciousness to drift from the beach below and mix with the combination of freshly brewed coffee and the new bouquet sitting in prize position on the grand windowsill.

Natasha’s back was turned as she hummed to herself, allowing her wife a moment of admiration before she crossed the tiled floor and slipped her arms around the redhead’s waist. Natasha wasn’t startled, she was an ex spy after all, but her body immediately relaxed into the touch of her wife. They stayed embraced for a few moments, Natasha’s head tilting backwards to rest on Y/n’s shoulder behind her. She smiled lazily and brought her own hands up to grasp onto her lover’s, holding her tightly.

“Did you sleep well?” She muttered softly, goosebumps littering her skin as Y/n’s hands grazed her stomach.

Y/n hummed, turning her wife around so they were finally face to face. “I would have slept better if you didn’t leave before I woke up.” Her mouth pouted slightly but Natasha quickly kissed her lips, her remedy for unhappiness.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she apologised, “I just wanted to surprise you with breakfast.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed at the mention of food. Her wife was a lot of things, but a cook she was not. She followed Natasha’s gaze to a pan on the stove where a sorry looking egg was cooking - or at least trying to.

“Tasha, honey… you haven’t turned the stove on.”

Natasha went to protest but Y/n pressed the button and turned the dial, the pair of them watching as the oil in the pan began to sizzle. Y/n smiled, trying to hide her laughter but Natasha caught her and huffed, sliding away from the stove and dragging Y/n over to the other counter, trapping her body in between the granite countertop and her strong body.

“How long have you been trying to cook that egg?” Y/n asked with fake seriousness, one which Natasha saw straight through. She rolled her eyes and pressed her hips forward, grabbing her wife’s face in her scarred palms.

“You’re lucky that I love you and will put up with this teasing after everything I do for you,” she grumbled, even though she wasn’t at all offended. Her wife was the light of her life and a far better cook, despite Natasha’s best efforts. She gazed into her love’s eyes, watching them sparkle in the sunlight and she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. Natasha pressed their lips together in a loving but firm kiss, almost like she was trying to kiss the smirk off her wife’s face. Her hands cupped Y/n’s cheeks with such tenderness that the other woman melted slightly, her body falling forwards into the comfort of her wife.

“You’re too good at that, my love, but that egg will burn if we continue like this,” Y/n started, trying to push Natasha away, much to the redhead’s disdain. The promise of breakfast was far in the back of her mind and she ignored Y/n’s help of protest when she grabbed the backs of her thighs and lifted her up onto the counter, spreading her thighs to stand between them with a smirk.

“You were saying?”

Y/n shook her head, a playful smile dancing across her lips. Her wife really was unbelievable. “At least turn the stove off, Nat. We just had this kitchen redone.”

“It’s barely warmed up.”

“And I know you. You’ll forget all about it and then complain when it’s black.” Natasha opened her mouth. “Don’t protest, you know I’m right.”

The redhead rolled her eyes but stepped away for two seconds, keeping her eyes locked on her wife on the counter as she fiddled around for the knob, turning it with a click. She raised an eyebrow, almost asking ‘happy?’ and Y/n nodded whilst beckoning her back over.

“That wasn’t hard now, was it?”

Natasha stayed quiet. Her fingertips slowly danced up Y/n’s bare thighs, tracing invisible patterns on her freshly tanned skin until they reached the hem of her shorts. Natasha laid her palms flat, suddenly looking up at her wife again through her lashes, giving her a look that melted the world away.

“Stop…” yet she wasn’t at all convincing. Y/n’s own hands absentmindedly drifted to the open collar of Natasha’s shirt, her collarbones just showing under the soft linen. “I love this shirt on you, my god.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” Y/n hummed softly. She followed her fingers with her eyes, connecting the freckles on her wife’s pale skin across her chest. Regardless of her hours spent in the sun, Natasha was never tanned, but it only made her look more ethereal in Y/n’s eyes. Like an angel with a glowing halo of hair about her head.

They didn’t need to talk, not in moments like this. Their eyes spoke a thousand words, and the soft call of seabirds in the distance reminded them both of the life they now lived, the craziness of the Avengers a thing of the past. A slow life was their new normal, and Natasha had moulded into her new role surprisingly well.

“Why don’t we go to the farmer’s market today?” Natasha suggested, her hands still resting on her wife’s thighs, her favourite place to be.

Y/n narrowed her eyes, seeing through that innocent facade. “You want me to make my salad don’t you?”

Natasha grinned, moving her hands up to Y/n’s waist, pulling her closer until her legs wrapped around Nat’s waist and they were as close as they could be. Natasha was an utter simp for her wife, and she wasn’t ashamed of that. Not at all. She would get it tattooed on her forehead if she could.

“I do, but I also want to see you in a pretty summer dress in our town today.” Another weakness, Natasha was feeling extra soft today, and Y/n would never complain. Natasha’s possessiveness came out extra strong when Y/n wore one of her favourite dresses. They always attracted extra attention and there was nothing more that the redhead loved more than to slide an arm around her waist or stop her in the street and kiss her fiercely. Just to shut down the wandering eyes of the other men and women in their small coastal town.

“What my wife wants, she gets,” Y/n leaned down and kissed Natasha’s forehead before signalling to get down. “What about breakfast?”

They both peered over at the half cooked mess of an egg on the stove before bursting into laughter. Straight into the trash it went, that was clear.

“I’m going to take my gorgeous wife out for breakfast,” the redhead announced, twirling Y/n under her arm in time to the music still playing from the radio. “With the promise of properly cooked eggs and a beautiful view.”

“I already have a beautiful view.” Cheesy.

“Get out of here,” Natasha joked, administering a slap to her wife’s ass as she ran out of the kitchen and down the hallway, a redhead hot on her heels.

But their urgency to leave was short lived as Natasha tackled Y/n onto the bed, peppering her face with kisses as they rolled around on the crumpled sheets, acting more like teenagers than thirty year old women. But they were allowed to, Natasha had been robbed of a childhood after all.

Breakfast could wait, this morning was much more important.

Does anyone know any good Wanda/ Lizzie, Nat/Scarjo, or Dakota Johnson recs? I would appreciate it :)

Y/N: *walks into the room*

WandaNat: *turns to look at her*

Y/N: “I saw a murder today.”

Wanda: “You what?!”

Y/N: “I saw a murder today.”

Natasha: “And you didn’t go to the police?”

Y/N: “Why would I?” *confused face*

Natasha: “Did someone threaten you?”

Wanda: “Were you threatened?”

Y/N: “What? No. Why would someone threaten me over a group of crows?”

WandaNat: *over it expressions*

Natasha: “That’s your wife.” *looking at Wanda*

Wanda: “She’s our wife” *shaking her head*

Y’all I need help finding this Nat x Reader fix where it starts with them cuddled up on a couch watching movies with the Avengers and every time a blast of boom sounds in a movie R covers Nats ears …

So high

Warnings: sub-top! Natasha, Pussy eating, cum eating, cowgirl, breeding, one slap, and yeah.

pairings: intersex: Natasha x fem reader.

Wordcount: 1.7k

Synopsis: You and Natasha decided to let loose and have some weed to ease your mind. Then, all of a sudden, Natasha becomes very horny and has a hard time fucking you.

A/n: Fear me because I'm back. This is going to be kind of bad and short as I get back into my flow, yk. Sorry. I didn't know how to end this, and this synopsis is so bad because I've never written one before for Smut.

"B-baby stop moving." Natasha slurs out to you as she has a firm grip on your ass. Her hard cock brushes up and down your thighs.

Soft moans and whimpers leave your mouth as you feel Natasha use her numb hands to get some friction on her crotch off of your pussy. Her eyes are bloodshot red and small mumbles leave her mouth about how hard she wants to fuck you.

"Fuck babe-can barely put my cock in your pussy." Her free hand is holding up the blunt to the side of your ass as she tries to push her cock into your pussy, which keeps on slipping out. A small smirk leaves Natasha's mouth as she finally feels you.

"Natasha..." You sigh out to your girlfriend. You turn your head back from the pillow where your face is stuffed to see what Natasha is doing.

She's focused on trying her hardest to put her cock in you, every attempt landing on it slipping out and bumping your clit. Her Ralph Lauren boxers are halfway down her thighs. Your eyes wander up her body slowly. The veins connecting to her v-line were more evident than ever. The faster she breathed, the more her abs accentuated.

"D-don't even worry babe, I..I got it. Swear." Natasha grunts out. Her hands finally being able to push her cock into you. A sudden moan leaves Natasha's mouth as she inches herself into you.

"Feels good, Nat, oh my god." You moan out into the pillow as you feel Natasha bottom out into you. You can still hear her loud moans. You can tell the weed the two of you did earlier had a more considerable effect on her than you.

"Shit, can't even move y/n." She mutters out as she falls on top of your body, her moans getting louder as you clench around her.

"Natasha?" you ask her. Her hands are wrapped around your waist as she quite literally clings to you.

Natasha appeared content with the situation at hand as she quietly spoke to herself once again, her lips moving almost imperceptibly. But you weren't. She got you all worked up so that she could fall right into your embrace.

"Holy fuck Natasha, what are you doing?"

"I'm fucking you." She mutters out to you and kisses her neck as her hips are still frozen in you.

As she moves her hips with gentle grace, a smile plays on her lips, exuding confidence as she asserts her claim over you. Her hands are under you on the bed as you are barely supporting the muscular weight that she has just put on top of you. Natasha's eyes are closed in a daze as she sets a reality of her fucking you.

"I-is it good?" She whines out into your ear as her hips make minor dents. It was filling; you can't even lie to yourself about her size. But, it wasn't filling enough to get you off.

"Natasha?" Your voice echoes softly in the dimly lit room as you gently call out to her, the sound barely audible amidst her. With a heavy heart, you turn your gaze, your eyes fixing upon her limp body draped heavily across your own.

"Oh-fuck, please keep on moaning o-out my name like that. Making you feel so good, I know I am."

"I knew this was a bad idea."

You groan audibly as you reluctantly switch positions with Natasha so she is at the bottom and you're at the top. Her dazed expression and lack of responsiveness just show you how truly out of it she is. Your hand quickly meets her cheeks and slaps it, bringing her out of her daze.

"Ouch! Tha-" She abruptly halts her sentence and lifts her gaze towards you. Her red eyes are now fixated on your body in all of your glory. How she isn't in control anymore, I mean, all she wanted to do was please you.

"W...what are you doing" She whines out, her hands quickly roaming up to your boobs to fondle with them. A small grunt leaves her mouth as you move your hips, which has her halting her movements on your chest and looking straight up at you.

"I'm getting myself off Natasha." You lean down and whisper into her ear.

"I-I thought I already did that...did I not?" She quickly pulls your body off of her chest to look at you in the eyes. Looking down at her, you see some of her hair falling out from the perfectly loose bun she had about an hour ago. Her mouth is agape. And her eyes are hazy as they look up yours, not letting go of the contact.

"Baby, take a wild guess. You're high out of your mind," You tell her and remove her flimsy arms away from you as you sit back on her cock. She groans again, feeling the movement, and you smile at her sensitivity.

"Sorry, I just wanted to make you feel good," she whispers softly as if she doesn't want you to hear. Her voice is tinged with vulnerability. Her eyes clouded as she quickly drew her faze away from you. She absentmindedly traces the contours of your thighs with her blunt nails, leaving faint, uneven lines along your skin.

You let out a low gasp, leaning down to kiss her gently before pulling back, the warmth of the moment tingling on your lips. "I know you did, Natasha," you murmur softly, your voice filled with tenderness and understanding. "I mean, do you think you could still help?"

As she shoots her eyes up to you, you smirk and look down at her. "How about this, you just lay there and let me work...and when I need help, you can help me, okay?"

She quickly nods with her flushed-out face and puts her hands on your hips. You quickly maneuver your arms on her shoulders and start moving your hips back and forth against her cock. You throw your head out, let out a low moan, and grip Natasha's shoulders tighter.

She's already lost in pleasure. Her whines and moans are becoming louder as you move against her sensitive cock. She moves her hands to your ass and leaves them there as she thinks she's helping you fuck yourself on her cock.

"This f-fucking pussy is so warm and fuck, tight. Y/n, please, oh god." She pants out to you like a dog. She's in awe as she watches you ride the loving life out of her.

Your hips fasted their pace, and both of your moans started overlapping with each other as you were both lost in pleasure. You lean down into her once more and move your hips up in down her length. You lean down on her neck and close your eyes as you feel Natasha buck up into you simultaneously, hitting that spot that makes you go crazy.

She uses one of her hands to hold your back, and the other has a firm grip on your ass.

"N-no Y/n, I'm going to cum p..please," She whines out to her, her hips starting to buck into you more, and you moan out into her ear. She uses all of her willpower and starts moving your ass up and down her cock, which has her seeing stars as you roll your eyes back from pure ecstasy.

She lets out a few loud moans and grunts before filling you up with her hot cum. Her hands are gripping your ass, and she's mumbling into your ear.

She finally lets go of the tight hold she has on your ass, and you sit up, which causes her body to twitch a bit as she is even more sensitive than before.

"You ready to help me now?"

She looks up at you with lidded eyes and a confused look.

"Don't look at me like that, Nat, I didn't get off yet."

"Oh-that's right. H..how can I help? Please let me help. Please." She begs to you. "Just tell me what you need, and I'll do everything possible. Fuck-you can sit on my face, you-" Her whining gets cut off by you slowly getting off of her length and onto her face.

That's the first good idea you've had today, Nat. You let out a long sigh as Natasha gets to work. Her hands are almost immediately on your ass, gripping it with her strong hands.

Moans flow out of your mouth as Natasha works her tongue up and down your folds, her nose being pressed into your clit adds a significant amount of pressure that had your head thrown back.

Natasha was eating your pussy like it was the last meal she would ever have; she whimpered loudly into your pussy, sending the uttermost pleasurable sensations through you. She lapped up your clit like she starving, and you were the only food that was around. She loved tasting you; she'd eat your pussy 24/7.

"N-nat, oh my god," You moan out to her as your eyes flutter shut. She only whimpers more, desperate to please you, to have you cum on her tongue. It was nasty, a nasty sight for someone to walk in on.

You shuddered as the tension was building up in your core. The rapid and longing swirls of her tongue were getting to you. She was going absolutely crazy over you. Wetness leaked from her chin and chest as she worked her mouth.

"Don't fucking stop Natasha," You whine out to her, desperate to release. She was just as hopeless as you to finally taste you on her skillful tongue.

"Please cum for me, y/n. Oh god, please." It's muffled and hard to hear as she pushes your pussy down onto her face, trying to get as close as she can. This girl is smothering herself, but she doesn't care.

Her tongue runs through your care and sucks your clit one last time before you come. Natasha graciously laps her tongue over your pussy, savoring the taste of you. You quickly gasp and pull your hips away from her, moving to sit on her abs.

As you catch your breath, you gaze down at her. Her cheeks are flushed a deep crimson, accentuating the beads of sweat glistening on her forehead and the bridge of her nose. The bottom of her face is soaked with your juices, her lips glistening wet.

"Was that good?"

Do you guys ever think about doing that coquette ribbon trend with Natasha?

Kinda nsfw

Minors dni

Could you hear me out really quickly? Version one is beefy, Natasha. You have her bicep tied in a cute pink ribbon bow, and a few seconds into the video, it breaks because she was trying to flex her muscles. Her veins pop out of her strong arms.

"Natasha, are you serious? That was the last strip."

As you stand there, admiring her toned physique but also being agitated, she catches your gaze and flashes a playful grin. "Don't act like you don't love these muscles," she teases, flexing her biceps for emphasis. Before you can respond, she sneaks up behind you and effortlessly lifts you off the ground, holding you up with ease.

Your phone quickly falls to the ground, leaving the screen dark as the Lana del Rey song plays in the background.

Okay, version two is Natasha laying on your shared bed with her hands tied between the bedframe with that pink ribbon. She's wearing a wife beater which reveals her muscles, and she's not smiling either because you fucking forced her to lay down with you on top of her and act like she's submissive(which she is some days).

Oh, she would be so embarrassed, too. She's getting put on blast as the camera is recording. Her face is just as red as her hair, her hands shaking from trying to take off the restraints. She's pissed, but you think it's the cutest thing ever. And, of course, you must send the video to Wanda to see what she thinks.

"No-y/n actually stop."

"Comon' you look so cute, Nat."

The final version I think of is tying the two fingers she uses to finger you with the same pink ribbon. Her hand rests on your thigh as the song plays, and her veins prominently stick out of her hand. She's looking up at you with a smirk while you're concentrating on the video you plan on posting later. And just to be funny, she curls her fingers into the air; you immediately see the video after that.

"We're not doing that today, Natasha," you say firmly, trying to stay focused on the task at hand despite the unexpected interruption. However, you can't help but feel annoyed that she has ruined the flow of your video and thrown off your rhythm.

"I mean, you already showed the fingers I used to fuck your pussy with; why not?"

As you hear Natasha's words, you involuntarily let out a long gasp and instinctively throw your head down. You shake it back and forth, trying to process the information you just received.

"Holy shit Natasha, you have no fucking filter, do you?"

Okay so I’m new to the blog and I saw requests were open! So kind, dom Nat or Wanda with fem sub R who is very submissive good girl golden retriever vibes, but Nat/Wanda is sadistic so she finds the smallest reasons to punish R and R just goes along with it? Maybe slight mistress kink? 👀

Baby, my love

warnings: a teeny bit of degradation, fingering, praise, riding, ass groping? I don't know. strap on

word count: 2.7k

pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem reader (Minors and men dni!!)

A/n: Bro, this is so cheeks because I have had such a long break, bru. I'm so rusty. Please save me. (I started getting lazy at the end cause I got bored and tired sowwy.)

"So cute," Natasha gazes at you with admiration as you peruse the restaurant menu. Your undivided attention is fixed on the pricey delicacies listed before you when, suddenly, her hushed compliment causes you to snap out of your menu-induced trance and meet her gaze.

"What?" You ask Natasha, only now coming out of your trance and paying full attention to your girlfriend.

"I said you're so cute, baby, So focused," she tells you. As you sit across from her in the dimly lit booth, she leans forward and reaches a hand across the table. Her fingers wrap around the salt crusher, which she begins to toy with absentmindedly. Despite her focus on you, you can't help but notice the veins that protrude from her weathered hands absentmindedly. Despite her focus on you, you can't help but notice the veins that protrude from her weathered hands.

As you catch a glimpse of Natasha, your cheeks instantly flush red, and you feel the heat rising on your face. Despite being together for over three years, she still has the power to make your heart skip a beat and leave you feeling butterflies. Your lips curl up into a grin, and you can't help but feel giddy as you realize how much you still adore her.

"I - thank you," you stutter out to her. A low chuckle escapes her lips as she gazes around the restaurant. She seems to be looking for someone specific, perhaps the waitress. And just as if on cue, the waitress approaches your table seconds later, timing it perfectly with her search.

"Are you feeling nervous for me already, my love? It's funny how you worry so much even though I haven't done anything yet," she says with a gentle sigh, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of her mouth. She looks up at you with a small smile, her eyes sparkling with affection and gratitude for your concern.

"I have nothing to worry about. You just—" but were interrupted by the waitress's appearance. She appeared from around the restaurant's corner, clad in a crisp uniform and carrying a notepad and pen. The steamy conversation was put on hold as she approached your table to finally take your orders.

As the waitress completes taking down Natasha's order, she turns her attention towards you. A warm smile graces her face, and you can't help but feel a sense of comfort in her presence. You reciprocate with a small smile, not wanting to appear impolite, as you place your dinner order. The soft murmur of other diners and the aroma of delicious food fill the air, making for a cozy ambiance.

"Perfect! I'll be back in a couple minutes to bring your food out!"The waitress says before walking away to assist other tables.

As you sat there, the soothing sound of low jazz filled your ears, enveloping you in a sense of calm and tranquility. For a few blissful moments, you were lost in the music, feeling your worries slip away. However, your reverie was abruptly interrupted by Natasha, who shattered the peaceful atmosphere with her sudden words.

"So, do you like her now?"

"W-what are you talking about nat? Do I like who?"

"Oh, please. Don't act like you don't know. The waitress."

"Natasha, I'm seriously not in the mood for this bullshit right now." You tell her; an exaggerated groan leaves your mouth as you put your face in your hands.

" Watch your fucking mouth y/n. You were all on her right? Smiling at each other like I wasn't here?"

The air grew still between you and Natasha, punctuated only by the sound of your own breath as you lifted your head to meet her gaze. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, pregnant with unspoken thoughts and emotions.

"But, she could never fuck you like I do, huh?"

You feel a sudden stillness in the air like time has slowed. Your cheeks start to flush with embarrassment once again. It takes a moment to fully comprehend Natasha's words. You can't help but wonder how she could be so uninhibited and unconcerned about expressing herself in such a public setting.

"Answer me, y/n."

"No, Natasha." As you begin to respond to her, you feel a slight discomfort between your legs. You shift your weight, crossing your legs to alleviate the buildup of heat and tension. Your words come out slowly as you try to maintain your composure.

"Good fucking girl," As you sit there, she leans in and whispers into your ear, her smirk growing wider with each passing moment. You can feel the warmth of her breath against your skin, and her words have a powerful effect on you, making your heart race and your mind spin. Despite your best efforts to remain composed, you can't help but feel a little bit helpless in her presence.

The rest of dinner was a torcher for you, and Natasha slowly lured you into her trap. It was too easy for her to have you melt in her hands. The night was filled with low teasing words that spilled from Natahsa's mouth, her shoe running up and down your leg. Only provoking the wetness between your legs.

As soon as the check arrived, Natahsa swiftly took out her wallet and paid without any delay. She made sure to leave a generous tip, expressing her gratitude for the excellent service. Without wasting any time, she grabbed your hand and hurriedly rushed back to the car, eager to have time with you.

During the seemingly long ride back to your New York apartment, you felt her veiny hand placed on your thigh, exerting a firm and steady pressure as she squeezed it. The touch of her hand sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but wonder what was going through her mind at that moment.

"'M sorry, Nat. I won't do it again," you tell her softly, just loud enough to be heard over the music playing in the car.

"You can try that cute apology again at home when I'm fucking your brains out, sweetheart."

Butterflies erupt from your stomach once more; you don't know how Natasha can be so collected when saying all these vulgar things to you.

You, on the other hand, had your legs squeezed together to get some sort of friction. Natasha's hand was inching closer and closer to your core making you more needy for her than you already were.

Natasha pulls the car into her designated parking spot with a sense of urgency, as if she can't wait to get inside. Without a moment's hesitation, she takes hold of your arm and guides you out of the vehicle and into the building. Her hand swiftly finds the key to the shared apartment, which she deftly inserts into the lock and turns with a satisfying click. Within seconds, the door swings open, revealing the cozy interior of your home.

Without any delay, she swiftly makes her way to your bedroom, determined to get you there as quickly and as safely as possible. Once there, she handles you with the utmost care and delicacy, making sure not to cause any further discomfort or harm as she gently eases you onto the bed.

Natasha makes her way onto the bed, looking at you with her full attention. Her hands clasp around your face, slowly bringing you into a kiss.

After a few seconds, she pulls away, her hungry eyes staring into yours. Her hands carefully and quickly come down to the zipper of your silk dress, slowly zipping down, until you were left wearing your bra and panties.

"So fucking gorgeous pretty girl. Can't even blame that waiter for wanting you."

All you can do is look up at her and whine, needing to feel her on you. In you.

Her lips travel swiftly down to your neck, leaving a trail of wet and passionate kisses that send shivers down your spine.

Small moans leave your mouth when you feel Natasha's hand slowly make its way down to your pussy, her two fingers brushing over your panties. Her mouth leaves your neck slowly. Natasha kneels down to admire your exquisite beauty. She gazes at you with wonder and amazement, taking in every detail of your stunning appearance. Her eyes scan every curve and contour of your being as she marvels at your magnificence.

"Baby, make sure to enjoy this moment because this is the most gentle I'll be tonight," she whispers softly into your ear. Her breath against your skin sends shivers down your spine as you feel her warm embrace.

Natasha doesn't waste time taking off your bra, leaving it on your chest. Her fingers move back down to your panties, this time moving them to the side to admire your wetness.

"Holy shit, you're this fuckin' wet, and I haven't even done anything." She laughs to herself as she looks at your desperate face, begging her to fuck you without having to say anything.

"P-please Nat," you moan out with desperation. you plead with Nat in a small and helpless voice.

"Please, what princess? What do you want me to do to this fucking cunt?"

Your face slowly lights up from Natasha's words. "Just want you inside." You whisper out to her.

"What was that y/n? I don't think I heard you." Oh, Natasha heard you.

"I-fuck. I just want you inside my pussy Natasha!" You finally yell at her, your head leaning against the pillow so you won't have to look at her.

"Yes, ma'am," She tells you and pulls down your panties, tossing them to them behind her. Two of her fingers direct themselves back to your pussy, slowly gliding over your slit. She groans when she feels your wetness on her slim fingers. She lifts her hand up from your pussy to show you your wetness.

"Look at me, baby, look at how fucking wet you are."

You look up at her again, her eyes fixated on her fingers. She slowly spreads them apart, your slick moving with her fingers. She carefully places her two fingers into her mouth and moans at your taste, her eyes now locked in on you.

Her fingers lead back to your pussy for the 3rd time; this time, she pushes her two wet fingers into your cunt. A loud moan ejects from your mouth.

"Oh baby, you're already clenchin' around my fingers, and I haven't even moved them yet.

It was almost like you forgot to talk at that moment. The one thing you had been craving was finally here. The only way you could express your pleasure was to moan into her.

You were a mess, to say the least. Your eyes are drowsy as Natasha speeds her long fingers into your pussy, slick running down your soft thighs. Your hips bucked back and forth to meet the fast thrust of Natasha's fingers.

Natasha's thumb makes contact with your clit, rolling the bud in a circular motion. Shattered breaths and whimpers escape from your mouth, the room filling with the sound of your wetness. Her fingers curl slightly into your cunt, and a low plea finds its way out of you.

"I can feel you squeezing around me, my love. Are you close already? You poor thing, do I make you feel good?" she asks.

"Mm-ph, yes!" You manage to squeal. Natasha pulls her now, sopping wet fingers out of your cunt right as you are on the edge. You knew it was too good to be true. The way she gave into you so easily.

"Think you deserve to cum that fucking easy, my good girl?"

You were too fucked out to reply to Natasha, only moaning and lifting your hips up to her leg, which she quickly moves away, leaving you no source of pleasure.

"Answer my question, baby. Do you think a little disobedient slut like you deserves to cum?"

"N-no."

"That's a Good answer, my love. I have two options: I can leave you needy all night and not touch you, or you can work for it. Which one?

"Two." You groan out, your high thoroughly washed over now, bringing you back to reality. Natasha just smiles at you and walks away for a few minutes. Coming back in only her sports bra and a pair of Calvin Klein boxers that had that seemingly noticeable bulge.

Natasha gets on the bed again, lying down and signaling her eyes at you to straddle her.

"Natasha, what are you actually doing?" You question her as you move your body on hers.

"Gotta work for what you want. And...you do want to cum tonight, don't you?"

You tilted your head slightly and moved it slowly, in deliberate motion, indicating your agreement or understanding.

"Then you can ride my fucking cock and cum that way, okay?"

"You're not going to help?" you ask her. You were never able to get off without Natasha's help. It was almost impossible, ever since the first time you both had the most intimate sex ever, she had a chokehold on you.

"Why do you need my help? You can go and flirt with other people, so I suspect you can do this, can't you?

You give a subtle nod, feeling a hint of skepticism creeping up. It's hard to believe that what you've just heard is true. Nonetheless, you try to keep an open mind and remain composed.

"The more you wait, the further away you are from coming."

You don't waste a second longer. You plam the outside of Natasha's gray boxers. She lets out a little sigh and grasps your ass. After feeling her through her boxers, you slowly pull them down, her large strap springing up and hitting her stomach. She looks you up and down smugly, her abs clenching at the thought of you.

You slowly spit on her cock, sliding your hand up and down her base as she just watches. You finally start to sit down, her cock, your face already contouring with pleasure. Natasha throws her hands behind her head, loving the view of your hands on her stomach as you sink down on her cock.

You need no time to start riding her like your life depended on it. Whispers of her name leave your mouth as you feel how she stuffs you.

"Keep on riding me just like that, love."

You move your hips back and forth, trying to get an immense amount of pleasure out of riding her. Your high wasn't building, only the frustration that came with it. You speed up your hips. Nothing. You try bouncing up and down on her cock. Nothing. She can tell that you are struggling; it's evident in your face and the rhythm of your slurred movements.

Natasha loves seeing you like this. She knows she's why you have difficulty coming undone without her help. She knows that no other lousy girl can fuck you the way she does. You were hers.

"Natasha, please. I'm sorry for what I did. I promise it's not going to happen again." You whine out to her, and your eyes start to water.

"Fine, but only because you asked so nicely."

Nat positions her legs in a bent way where your back can lean against them. Her hips quickly get to work. Fucking themselves into you at a rapid pace. The room was filled with moans from both of your mouths and the sound of skin slapping against one another.

"Look so fucking pretty like this. Can't even fuck yourself without my help. Pathetic."

You only moan at her words that bring you closer to the edge, her hips moving at a slower pace but fucking yours harder. Her hands gripped your ass tightly as she fucked you, not giving two fucks if the neighbors heard you. She wanted them to know that you were hers.

Your eyes are closed; your focus is on how good Natasha fucks your efforts.

"This pussy is so tight, shit." She moans out to you.

"So close, Nat, please don't stop."

And she doesn't. She works her hips like a god, her eyes fixated on how your greedy pussy swallows her cock. She's mesmerized by it all.

"Go ahead, baby, cum all over this cock." You need no other confirmation. Your eyes squeeze shut even harder, and your grip on her hips becomes stronger as high-pitched moans leave your mouth. You body slumps down on Natasha's as you catch your breath, she admires you from above.

"you did so well for me, y/n. But I don't know if I'm down with you yet, sweetheart.

Nsfw twitter links.

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

pairings: Natasha x fem reader

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

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

Her taking her time with you.♡

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

Nat being so desperate to fuck your pussy♡

Natasha eating you out♡

Natasha fucking you in every way possible.♡

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

Her making you suck her strap.♡

Riding nat as she tries to control herself♡

Grinding on her lap during movie night.♡

Nat making you squirt and not stopping.♡

Pussy drunk Natasha.♡

Natasha fixated on your tits.♡

Soft Natasha telling you what to do.♡

Mean Natasha spanking you.♡

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

Taking control over Natasha.♡

Natasha marking your tits.♡

Hey, can I request an intersex Nat where she accidentally got R pregnant? And then she decided to hide the baby from Nat because she didn't want to burden Natasha or something (idk, you can change the reason), and then 5 years later, Nat was shocked to find R with a child. She did a computation and some research to know that it was her child too! Fluffy ending, please? Sorry for rambling, I just love single mother AUs rn and idk why?? Thank youuu!!

It's never over.

Warnings: y/s/n (your son's name), unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink

Pairings: Intersex Natasha x fem reader

Word count: 2.5k

A/n: It has actually been a hot minute since I posted. I'm sorry, but I'm ready for this writing grind to return. This fic is my apology. I'm getting to it if I didn't get to your request. Trust me, I've seen it and probably already started writing it.

"Fuck baby, I don't have a condom," Natasha tells you while hurriedly taking off her shirt.

You moaned quietly and muttered, "It's fine." Your hands go to Natasha's sweatpants to pull them down. "Just pull out, okay?"

Natasha lets out a low groan in reply to you, and her hands promptly find their way to your bra. In one swift mention, your bra was unclasped and thrown somewhere in the dimly lit bedroom.

Her hand soon came up to your face, tracing your face. Her eyes were glued on you, on how beautiful you were. Her face comes intact with your neck, kissing you slowly. Her lips dragged down and down. Soon, meeting your pelvis. Her head slowly moved back up to look at you. "So pretty baby, love you so much," she muttered. Her fingers traced down your body 'till they got to your clothed cunt. Her middle and index finger glided over your clit, and a soft whine erupted from your mouth.

"Please, Tasha, need you."

"Yeah, baby? I got you, okay?" She murmured out to you. A small kiss was left on your forehead. Natasha's two fingers pulled your panties to the side. Her attention was now on your pussy.

"So wet for me." Her lips curled upwards, forming a proud smirk. She didn't even do anything to you, and she had you dripping.

Her fingers dipped themselves in your hole, and a small gasp left your mouth. You threw your head against the pillow that lay beneath your head.

"Look at me, y/n, how good I'm making you feel." She mutters out to you, immediately drawing her fingers away from your cunt.

"Need your fingers, please." You moan out to her, your head shooting back up to see her in front of you, her two fingers up to her mouth to taste you.

"Taste so fucking good." she sighs out to you. "Need my fingers, baby? How bad do you need them?"

"Really bad, Natasha." Your hips start to buck forward, trying to relieve that ache you had in your core.

Natasha's hand comes to your hips, pushing them back down into the bed. You know you can't do anything about it. She's so much more potent than you. A force of one hand has your hips pinned down.

"Sorr-" Your plead is cut short when you feel her fingers entirely make their way into you. A languid yelp leaves your mouth. Your head shoots back once more.

"Feels good, huh? Bet my cock will feel better, though."

You can't respond back to her, too focused on her fingers that are curling in you. Her fingers pump faster, lewd sounds of your wetness caving the room, echoing every now and then.

Natahsa's free hand moves up to your clit, circling the bud just like she did before.

"So good, Nat, don't stop p-please."

"'M not gonna stop, baby."

As you lay, you feel the muscles in your legs tense up, and your feet shift slightly as your legs come together, creating a subtle but noticeable closure.

"You close y/n?" She whispers in your ear, her body leaning onto you ever so slightly, but enough to feel her hard-on press onto you.

Your voice quivers as you let out a mournful "Mhm." You reach out and grasp her shoulder, fingers digging into her skin. The pressure of your grip is tight, as if you're trying to hold on to something slipping away.

As you near your high, Natasha pulls her fingers out of you. A high-pitched sob leaves your mouth. "N-no, Natasha."

"Shh, it's okay, my love. I gonna make you feel so much better." She mumbles out to you. Her body moves off of you and onto her knees. The tent in her boxers is more noticeable than it was before. Your gaze is fixated on the intricate network of veins coursing down her pelvis, descending further and further out of sight.

She let out a low groan as she moved her boxers down, sliding them off and tossing them somewhere in the room. Her cock sprung out of the piece of clothing, precum leaked from her tip.

"So fucking hard for you, baby, I just want to feel your pussy so bad."

A shattered breath left your mouth as you heard Natahsa's explicit words. Her hand slowly moved up and down on her cock, lowering her head down to use her spit as lube.

She slowly inched her hips closer to you, grabbing ahold of her hard cock. Her tip rubbed in between your folds, teasing for a few more minutes.

"Already feel so good." She sputters, her tip finally coming down to your hole. She takes her time easing into you, her eyes looking at how your pussy takes in all of her cock.

Once Natasha had bottomed out in you, she stilled her hips, giving you time to adjust to her length. "Tell me when I can move, baby, okay?" She softly tells you.

After a few minutes of waiting, you finally adjusted to her.

"O-okay, I'm ready, Nat."

Natasha needs to hear no more, her hips thrusting rhythmically.

"Th-that feels good, Tasha." Your breathing is labored. You can feel the deliberate slowness and shallowness of Natasha's thrusts, as though she is deliberately holding back from unleashing her full power upon you. It's as though she is carefully testing your limits, teasing you with the promise of what could come if she let go.

"Can I do this?" She asks, her eyes filled with anticipation. Her back straightens, and her hands move ever so sneakily, reaching out to grab your thighs.

The silence in the room was palpable, broken only by the sound of a small head slowly nodding.

Her hands pushed your thighs back for a better angle. Her thrusting resumes and her cock hits new depths. Loud moans left your mouth as Natasha's hips grew in speed, her cock aimlessly hitting the spot that you love.

The way you clenched around her had her in a trance. The grip she had on your thighs tightened. A grunt came out of her mouth, and she snapped her hips faster into you. Your hands were trying to search for a place for stability.

"So fucking tight and warm, y/n. C-could be in you forever." She moans out to you.

"Fuck, I'm close, nat." a whine left your mouth as you closed your eyes and focused on all of the pleasure.

"Let me cum inside y/n, please."

You quickly nodded, trying to hide the knot that was forming in your stomach. The overwhelming feeling of unease made it hard to process anything else.

"Gonna cum!"

"Comon, do it, my love, cum for me." She reassures you. You can tell she's close to releasing by how her hips start to, for their own pace, a rhythm. With a few more strong thrusts from Natasha's hips, your orgasm came crashing down. Your back arched off of the bed as you felt Natasha shoot her load into you.

She lays down on top of you and catches her breath. She quickly rolls off of you and moves herself next to you on the suitable bed. Her side is slightly turned so she can look at your face.

"Did so good for me y/n." You feel her soft breath on your face as she leans in and gently presses her lips to your forehead, letting out a soft murmur.

You couldn't help but smile as you turned to face Natasha. She slowly lifted herself off you, her eyes fixed on yours as if trying to decipher your thoughts.

After standing up, she gracefully slips back into her boxers, her every move exuding confidence and poise. She walks into your bathroom with purpose, her eyes scanning the room until she spots a towel, which she swiftly grabs and wets under the tap. She returns to you, her gaze unwavering, and gently cleans you up with the damp towel, her soothing and reassuring touch.

As you lay on your bed, you hear a soft call of "Y/nnn." Turning your head, you see her standing there, a smile forming as she catches your gaze. Closing your eyes, you feel her hands gently cleaning you up, making you feel refreshed and cared for. Soon after, she hops onto the bed and wraps her arms around you from behind, holding you close in a warm embrace. It's a moment of comfort and intimacy that makes you feel safe and loved.

As you were lost in thought, you were suddenly jolted back to reality by boisterous laughter. You quickly checked your phone to see a message, only to find your son standing before you with a half-eaten Rice Krispie treat in his hand.

"Hey, buddy!" You bellowed out to him. His face lit up as he heard you talking to him.

He looks up at you with a beaming smile and says, "Hi, mama!" His little hands reach up toward you despite your close proximity, signaling his desire to be held in your embrace.

You bend down slightly to pick him up, even more laughter erupting from his tiny body. You quickly pick up the phone you put on the counter to take a picture of y/s/n. Your eyes get lost in the notification on your screen. You quickly forget about it and take a picture of the both of you in your matching Patagonia jackets, hoping you could post it to your Instagram later.

As you set him down on the ground, you turn to him and ask, "Would you like to go get some ice cream?" With a quick nod, he excitedly runs towards the door, nearly stumbling over the scattered toys that litter the floor. You can't help but chuckle at the sight as you make your way over to the accent table where your car keys are displayed.

As you two drove, the car was filled with the loud beats of y/s/n's favorite YouTube music, his laughter growing increasingly raucous as he found something particularly amusing. After a few minutes, we arrived at the ice cream shop, but getting y/s/n out of his seatbelt proved difficult due to all the kicking and squirming.

As you both stepped out of the car, you noticed the small ice cream shop across the street. You helped him out of the car and walked towards the shop. As you entered the tiny shop, the aroma of freshly made waffle cones filled your nostrils. The colorful display of ice cream flavors made your little companion's eyes widen with excitement. He carefully picked out his favorite flavor and waited patiently for you to pay. As you handed over the money, his tiny head looked up at you with gratitude and back at his ice cream, watching it drip from the cone onto his hand. The sound of his happy slurping filled the air as you both savored the moment.

Walking around the ice cream, you turn to your son and say, "Come on, let's find a table." You take his hand and navigate the large crowd, scanning for an available booth. Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening catches your attention. You freeze when you see the girl who just walked in. She looks familiar, like someone you used to know. She stands tall with a confident posture and a mess of long red hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. A few strands fall across her face, framing her sharp features. Dressed in a sleek compression shirt and shorts, she just came from the gym.

As you both stand in the ice cream shop, your eyes meet with a woman scanning the room. Suddenly, her gaze locks onto yours, and you feel a jolt of electricity pass between you. Her eyes slowly drift down to the child standing next to you, and she can't help but notice the resemblance between them. You're unsure what to do, but you feel frozen in place as you stare at each other. When your child tugs at your pants, reminding you that his ice cream is melting, you snap out of your trance and slowly start to move away.

"Mommy, ice cream!" he says loud enough for the girl you know to hear you.

"O-okay, y/s/n, follow me." You quickly find a table. As soon as you sit down, your son is on his tablet, watching PBS Kids to entertain him. And that's when you finally remember it was Natasha. She has changed a lot since you saw her 4 years ago.

Before you can get together to talk to her, she's already at your table. Your son quickly looks up at her and looks back down; his attention is on the ice cream and TV show.

"Y/n?" She whispered out to you. Her voice sounded the same, just as you remembered.

"Hi Natasha, I know that thi-"

"You have a kid now?" Her voice is a little shaky now; if you have to be honest, you feel bad for her. And now that you're face to face with her you start to regret your actions.

You stayed silent for a minute trying to find the right response to tell Natasha.

"Why didn't you tell me y/n? I've waited so long for you."

"I...I don't know Natasha." Our hands touch your face, rubbing it harshly, trying to process what was happening.

"Is he mine, Y/n?" You could tell her nervousness, her breath quickening as she awaited your response. The only thing you could do was nod your head up and down.

"have a seat, Nat." She hesitates momentarily before slowly taking a seat, her mind racing with mixed emotions. The air around you is tense as you wait for her to speak.

"You know I wanted to tell you."

"Why didn't you then? I was never able to get over you, y/n."

"I guess I...I guess I was too scared, Natasha. I didn't want you to ghost me, and I felt like a burden like you wouldn't want to be with me anymore." You looked down at the table, trying to hide your watering eyes from Natasha.

You feel her body shifting gently as she moves closer to you. Her arm gracefully wraps itself around your back and pulls you in closer. You respond to her embrace, feeling your entire body pressing against hers with a sense of comfort and warmth.

"I don't think you are a burden. I would've been so happy if you told me we would have a kid together. You know that I will always love you."

You do a slow nod into her chest. Natasha's face turns every once in a while, looking at the toddler across from her.

"What's his name?"

"Y/s/n. It made me think of you when I first gave birth to him."

Natasha's delicate fingers gently touch your chin, lifting your face towards hers. As you meet her gaze, a radiant smile spreads across her lips, illuminating her face with a warm glow.

"Do you wanna come back home with me, Nat?" you whisper just loud enough for her to hear.

"Yeah, actually. I want to catch up with you and my son."

You find yourself unable to do anything but return the smile of the person in front of you. As you gaze into her eyes, a flood of memories from your past together comes rushing back. You feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the new chapter that is about to unfold in your life.

Can you please do a fic where there is angst and smut like scenario, Natasha is always busy with work and always ignoring R which lead them into an big argument and nat got a little bit carried away and slap R but then she realized what she has done and want to show R how much she loves her

Lately

Pairings: Intersex Natasha Romanoff x Fem reader

Warnings: Angst, cunnilingus, one tiny slap, idk, small? Mentions of Natasha having a dick

Word count: 2.2k

11:45.

11:45 was the time your girlfriend entered the city apartment. The atmosphere was dim and moody as all the lights had been turned off, except for the TV that illuminated the room with a random show in the background. As she entered, Natasha carefully placed her computer bag on the floor and slipped off her shoes before proceeding to the living room. She scanned the area, searching for a trace of your presence on the inviting white couches.

Not being able to find you Natasha finds the Tv remote and stops the show that's playing.

With a faint sigh escaping her lips, she takes a few steps down the dimly lit hallway, her heart pulsing with a mix of hope and trepidation. As she approaches the entrance to your shared bedroom, she can't help but wonder if you'll be there, awaiting her arrival with open arms. Natasha slowly turned the doorknob to the side to see your sleeping body on the mattress, a smile engulfing her face as she watched your body move up and down slowly.

She was happy to see you still in the bed. Your relationship had been rocky for the past two weeks. It took a toll on both of you in the long run.

Natasha made her way to the closet to change out of her uncomfortable work clothes. She opted for a comfortable compression shirt and cozy sweatpants. She returned to the bed and noticed that you were already resting peacefully. She quietly crawled into bed beside you, wrapping her arms around your warm body. The feeling of your presence gave her a sense of comfort and security that she desperately needed. These small moments of closeness were what she cherished most about being with you.

As you gradually stirred from your slumber a few hours later, you instinctively turned to your side and noticed the vacant space on your bed, prompting you to groan in disappointment. you quickly got out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom to begin your morning routine. You meticulously brushed your teeth and hair, feeling revitalized and refreshed. Splashing some cold water on your face, you headed out of the room to try and find Natasha.

After a couple minutes of trying to find her, you see her in the home gym she designed for you two. She was wearing a White wife beater and blue Nike tracksuit pants. Natasha was doing pushups with the workout video displayed on the Tv in the room.

You slowly enter the room, pushing the transparent door open and looking down at her.

"Where were you last night." You ask her, with a serious tone, not being happy with her at the moment.

"Oh, I was still at work. Fury gave me more paperwork to do as soon as I was packing to go home. I'm so sorry baby." She replies, looking back at where you were and standing up to go and hug you.

You scoot back from the hug and look up at her face. "Natasha, i'm always so sick of you never being here. You know it affects me too, right?" You ask her, your eyes tearing up because you missed her so much.

"Yes- I know that y/n. it affects me too, you're not the only one getting hurt by it." Natasha responds back to you, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes.

"You know, why are we even fighting right now y/n? It's 8:37 in the fucking morning y/n. 8:37!" She says to you, walking away to go take the weights off of the barbell she was using.

"I don't know Natasha - maybe it's because I miss my girlfriend, but she's never here when I need her the most." You say back to her, covering your face with your hands and letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Well, I honestly don't know what the fuck you want me to do y/n. Do you wanna go talk to fury for me? Tell him to cut back my fucking hours at work? Huh?" She asks, anger building up in her voice as she drops the weight, she was holding to look at you.

"Are you even listening to me right now Natasha!?" You tell her, a small smile coming over your face as you were in disbelief with what she was saying.

"Are you even listening to me y/n? I love you and I do want to spend time with you, I do. I just - don't know what you want me to fucking do." She yells back at you, walking a little closer to your body and standing infront of you.

"It's not that hard to do what i'm asking Natasha. To spend time with me? Okay yes, maybe I do want you to come home early one day. What's wrong with that? You're literally gone for so many days of the week and i'm always here wondering about how you are, if you're okay, worrying over you. And then when you do come home, I never get to see you - spend time with you! It's not fair Natasha." You yell back out to her, tears falling down from your eyes now.

"And you know what Nat-"

You were cut off when you felt a stinging sensation come over your face. Your hand immediately going to touch the skin that had been touched.

"What the fuck Natasha." You tell her, your eyes widening as you looked up at her once more. The skin now turning red from where her hand made impact.

"Y/n I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it. Please I'm sorry." She says before bringing you close to her body. Her eyes watering up thinking of what she just did. You didn't hug her back, you couldn't.

"No Natasha what the actual fuck is wrong with you?" You ask her as you walk away to the door.

"Wait-Where are you going y/n? Please, I'm sorry y/n."

"I'm gonna go stay at Wanda's for a few days Natasha." As you spoke to her, tears streamed down your face and you had to pause to catch your breath between each word. Leaving the gym to go pack a bag.

Natasha stood still in the now quiet gym, her mind consumed with thoughts about the recent events that had just transpired. The weight of her actions seemed to weigh heavily upon her heart, and a solitary tear trickled down her cheek. She never intended to cause any harm to you, and the realization of what she had done filled her with disgust and remorse.

You on the other hand got a random bag you found in your shared closet and threw some clothes In there. You already texted Wanda about what had happened between you and Natasha. Once you were done packing you immediately left through the front door, grabbing the car keys off of the accent table and unlocking the car.

After the incident with Natasha, you sat in the car, completely motionless. Tears flowed down your face, and you couldn't help but feel hurt by her actions. Although you knew she didn't mean to hurt you, you couldn't understand why she acted the way she did. Being around her at that moment was an unsettling experience, and you couldn't shake off the feeling.

"Shh, it's okay y/n. I promise." Wanda tells you, holding you close as you cry in her arms.

"I-I just don't understand Wanda!" You seem to convey to her, lifting your head to meet her gaze. Your eyes are swollen and discolored due to the extensive amount of crying you have gone through.

"I think she really is sorry y/n. She keeps on texting you and trying to call you. I know Natasha would never want to hurt you on purpose, y/n/n."

"I know, I know. I don't know what to say to her after that."

"Well, stay here for a couple hours, huh? We can watch some movies and order some, okay? But you have to talk to her y/n.

After quiet contemplation, you slowly and carefully shift your weight, gently lifting yourself off Wanda's body. As she rises from her bed calmly, she extends a compassionate hand towards you, guiding you towards her bathroom. She helps you delicately wash your face, ridding it of any traces of stubborn, dried mascara that stubbornly clung to your delicate skin.

-

"Feeling better?" She asks you, playing with your hair on the couch.

"Mhm. I'm gonna start heading out Wands." You tell her, shifting from your comfy position on her couch.

"You want me to walk you out?"

"No, it's okay; thank you so much, Wanda. I'll text you later.

"Of course, Y/n. It's gonna be okay, I swear.

As you leave Wanda's house, you lower your head and take a slow stride toward your vehicle. The memory of Natasha invades your thoughts, causing a wave of longing to wash over you. You can't help but admit that you miss her dearly, despite the difficulty in comprehending her actions.

As you approach the entrance of your shared apartment, you can feel your heart rate increase as nervousness courses through your body. Your gaze shifts down towards your phone, noting the time displayed: 9:34. As you unlock the screen, you are greeted with a barrage of missed calls and messages from Natasha, causing your attention to shift towards the digital notification center.

With a heavy sigh, you inhale deeply before grasping the key that had unlocked the door and stepping inside. As soon as you entered, you noticed Natasha sitting at the bar, her delicate frame perched on a high stool. Her hands were clasped on her head as if deep in thought, and she looked up as soon as she sensed your presence.

"Y/n?" She asks to you. Her face was filled with red. You could tell that she had been crying a lot.

You remained silent, your body motionless in the hallway.

"I, I'm so sorry y/n. Please."Natasha approached you with a hint of distress in her demeanor. Her arms wrapped around your frame as she drew nearer, seeking comfort and solace. In response, your arms naturally embraced her, offering a reassuring and supportive presence.

"Please y/n."

"I know it was an accident, Natasha; it's okay, Nat, I forgive you."

You perceive the sound of Natasha's sniffles and experience a dampness on your shoulder caused by her tears.

"I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you, baby, please." Natasha continues to weep inconsolably while you offer a comforting embrace. Your gentle touch caresses her back in soothing circular motions, providing a sense of relief from her emotional pain.

"Natasha, you're crying in my arms right now."

"N-no, please."

Before you can respond Natasha starts kissing up your neck. A low moan escapes your mouth.

"Nat."

She quickly drops to her knees and pulls down your sweatpants. She kisses up your thighs, her fingers making their way to your clothed clit. Rubbing the sensitive muscle slowly.

"Please let me show you how much I love you. Please y/n."

"Mmm-okay..." You tell her, Natasha takes that as her sign and pulls down your lace panties. You were already soaking wet. A grunt leaves Natasha's mouth as she moves her face to your cunt. She sticks her tongue out for a second before licking your folds. One of her hands returns to your clit and starts rubbing again, this time faster.

"Natasha!" You moan out, your hands coming to meet her head. Taking a hand full of red hair and pushing her closer to your cunt. Natasha lets a small whine and pushes her nose beneath the hood of your clit. She shakes her head left and right, moaning at how you taste.

She starts to move her hips back and forth, humping the air. Her cock grows each time she hears one of your pretty moans. The hand holding your thigh moves down to her loose boxers. She quickly grabs her cock and moves her hand up and down, wanting to release it whenever you do.

"Feels so good, Nat, mm!" Your head was thrown back as your hands gripped her hair harder.

"Could e-eat you out all day."

"Fuck! Natasha, I'm so close." You moan out to her, her finger stimulating your clit moves even faster. Her head moves closer to your cunt. Her grunts and groans add to your stimulation.

She's lost in eating your pussy. Her hips move faster, and so does her hand, a sign that she's also close.

"Gonna cum!" Your hips buck into her face. The finger on your clit moves to your hips to keep them stable. Natasha's hand moves faster and faster in her boxers. Loud grunts leave her mouth as she looks up at you, your face contorted in pleasure.

With one more guttural moan, you come undone on Natasha's tongue. A whine erupts from her mouth as she shoots her cum in her boxers simultaneously with you.

She pulls her face away from your cunt. The bottom half of her face is filled with your juices. Her full face is covered in red. The silent room is filled with your loud breaths.

"Fuck, come here."

Nerdy Natasha Hcs pt.2

warnings: masturbation, blowjobs, edging, I don't even know

pairings: intersex Natasha x fem reader

Sfw

. Nerdy Natasha who: Always brings you to a museum as a date. She always says it will be fun for both of you (she just wants to go and see old artifacts.) The whole time you guys are at the museum, you stare and smile, and she drags you along to something cool that she found.

. Nerdy Natasha who Gets so shy when you hold her hand in the Hallways. Her head would always be down as a blush coated her face. You would tell her she's adorable and kiss her as you enter class.

. Nerdy Natasha who: Will always sneak behind you and embrace herself in you. Her strong arms would wrap around your waist as she tucked her head between your neck while you cooked breakfast for the two of you.

. Nerdy Natasha who: Will go to the Lego store at the mall and buy one of those Lego flower sets and two Lego people that look like you two. She would build the flowers in 30 minutes and drive over to your house as fast as she could, sprinting out of her car just to give you your gift. She couldn't even talk because she was out of breath.

. Nerdy Natasha who: Comes up to you and gives you a hug as she wraps her head down on your shoulder if she had a bad day. You would be scratching her head and telling her it's gonna be okay. She would also be bending down so much because of the height difference.

. Nerdy Natasha who: Can't stop talking about you to her family at dinner. Yelena gets super annoyed whenever Natasha goes on a tangent about how great you are and how she would never date anyone else. But Alexi and Melina are super invested in her life. A huge smile always plaster their faces when she talks about you.

. Nerdy Natasha who will always take photos of you with a Polaroid camera and hang those photos up on the wall. You always tell her to take them down because you don't think you look that good, and she will literally talk for hours about how you are the most beautiful girl in the world and how you are the one thing she could stare at for days.

. Nerdy Natasha who Loves it t when you sketch random drawings on her arm. you would carefully move your pen over her skin and veins while the teacher discusses a new project due in the next few weeks.

. Nerdy Natasha who will literally do anything you ask her. You need her to tie your shoe because it's not tight enough? She's kneeling in the middle of the dirty sidewalk tying your shoe. You're craving something that's not in your pantry? She's jogging to the nearest store to get you the food that you want.

. Nerdy Natasha who would always let you fix her eyebrows for her. She would lie on her space-themed bed as you lay on top of her, carefully plucking the out-of-place eyebrows with a tweezer. She would always complain about how bad it hurt too.

"Oww, y/n, be gentle. I can feel that you know that, right?"

"Stop it, Natasha; I know that didn't hurt. You're just being a big crybaby right now."

. Nerdy Natasha who will carry your bridal style to her car if it had been raining the previous day and you want to keep your new heels neat.

. Nerdy Natasha who Would be on one of those kiss cam videos at her school. She would be so shy because she was being recorded and would only give you a small peck on the lips. Everyone found it adorable, though.

. Nerdy Natasha who loves doing skincare with you. You would always have her sit on a chair as you put moisturizers and serums on her face. After a while, though, she would always complain about being unable to see because her glasses would be off.

"Y/nnn, are you almost done? I can't see, and my optome-"

"My gosh, Nat, do you ever stop whining?"

. Nerdy Natasha who loves to do movie marathons with you. And it will be the stupidest movie, too. They would have bad CGI and a bad soundtrack. After a while, you wouldn't mind because Natasha was having the time of her life.

. Nerdy Natasha who loves to go on Ikea dates with you. She would always point out a cute bedframe or couch that she liked and rant about how she's gonna put that in the house that the two of you will buy when you are done with high school and college.

nsfw

. Nerdy Natasha who sitting in her desk chair with her arms tied behind the head of the seat while you used a Fleshlight to get her off. She would be begging you to ride her so she could feel your pussy around her.

. Nerdy Natasha who would have the biggest mommy kink ever.

"Please let me make you feel good, Mommy, please."

. Nerdy Natasha who would wake up in the middle of the night with the biggest hard-on ever. She would reach over to her nightstand to get her glasses and look down at her boxers. She would be so scared to wake you up and tell you what happened she would quietly lay back down and hump your ass till she came. You obviously woke up after the first few minutes because of her loud breathing and whining. You didn't help her either. You just pretended to be asleep.

. Nerdy Natasha, who is almost on the verge of tears while you suck her off under her desk while she's studying for an upcoming exam. You whispered in her ear that she needed a 'little break'. Next thing she knows, her cock is stuffed in your mouth.

. Nerdy Natasha who gets caught watching porn by you, She's so embarrassed. She wasn't jerking off or anything to it (she was hard though) she had a pen and notebook by her side with a couple of notes written down on the white sheet of paper.

"Y/n! You said you weren't going to be home this early!" She yelled out to you, frantically shutting her laptop.

"Nat, baby. I could've helped you learn some of that stuff, you know that, right honey?"

. Nerdy Natasha who stays having dark hickeys on her neck. Yelena thinks it's the funniest thing in the world while Melina and Alexei are yelling at her once more. She would let you make a heart with hickeys on her back

. Nerdy Natasha who Sends you a picture of her lying on her bed with a hard-on. She would text you about how desperate she is to be inside you and that you must come home soon.

. Nerdy Natasha who would always be so mesmerized by your boobs. You don't think she's actually ever seen anyone else's before. She would be so scared to touch them too. You would lead her hand to your chest so she could feel them.

. Nerdy Natasha who always gets edged by you.

. Nerdy Natasha who will have a shopping basket online filled with different kinds of sex toys that she would never tell you about. You would go on her computer to look at the notes for a class and instead find the website she was looking at with a shopping bag full of toys.

How Natasha would fuck you in different seasons

Warnings: Unprotected sex, a little degradation, intersex Natasha, mentions of hair pulling, cunnilingus, oral (both receive)

Pairings: Intersex Natasha (she has a cock) x reader

Wc: 801

During the spring season, Natasha would show a notably gentle disposition towards you. The atmosphere would be tranquil and unhurried, with raindrops cascading down the windows of your modern apartment. She wouldn't have any place to be. It wouldn't be rushed at all. Waking up to her slowly fucking you from the side. She would always find the time to bend you over the marble countertops and fuck you, making you almost burn the food left on the stovetop.

The amount of praise she would tell you is insane, too. "Such a good girl for me, y/n."

Maybe it's the pollen, but she's so gentle with you for these few months.

In contrast to her softness during the spring season, Natasha's character would show huge differences during the summer months. Natasha would have your face down, ass up on her bed fucking you roughly, her cock hitting that particular spot repeatedly. Her hand would make a makeshift ponytail and lift your head from the pillow so that you could hear the most degrading things that left her mouth known to man.

"You're such a dirty slut, y/n, letting me fuck you whenever I feel like it? Do your friends know how much of a whore you are, huh?"

A window would always be open because of how hot and humid the room got in such a short amount of time. Your moans are almost as loud as all of the cars from down below. You could already see a noise complaint heading your way from your neighbors, but you couldn't care less.

During fall, Natasha would always want to be eating you out. She's so desperate to taste your pussy. She's so pussy whipped it's crazy. She would eat you out during the most random times of the day.

You and Natasha would be carving pumpkins to put out on your balcony, and out of nowhere, she would be on the ground, pushing her face into your knee and begging you to let her taste your pussy.

"Please, y/n, just five minutes; I'll make you cum so fast, y/n. I just need to taste you."

During these months, she tends to become very submissive. The fall season is typically characterized by overwhelming paperwork that piles up, leading to exhaustion. Additionally, she has the responsibility of assisting the agents with their training, which can be pretty demanding.

You would have her whimpering and shaking as you sucked her off late at night, telling her "I can help relieve some of that stress, Nat."

I could also see you riding her often because the poor girl is exhausted. She would feel all up on your body as you moved your hips back and forth; she loves how warm and tight your cunt is and will always comment on it.

On Halloween, you two would have to go inside early and leave the candy basket outside with a sign that says, 'Only take one or else...' (thanks to Natasha) because of how horny Natasha was getting. It was hard to not see the bulge in her sweatpants. (her costume would be a pirate, but no one would know because she just draws two big circles around her eyes and a mustache.)

Natasha would be the softest during winter. She would be so slow and gentle with you, just like spring. She would be on top of you on the couch, thrusting into you passionately.

The newly purchased logs would crack in the fireplace, the warmth spreading throughout the room and the flames slowly turning the wood into ash. Slow jazz music would be playing in the back as you had a Christmas movie with zero volume, so you could hear each other's moans.

She wouldn't be 'fucking' you or having 'sex' with you, she would be making love to you. Her head would be buried into your neck, sucking on the skin and leaving marks, as your hand touched her head and scratched it lightly. Small moans came out of your mouth every few seconds as Natasha moved her hips in and out of you.

The room was cast in a dim and hazy glow, with only the distant twinkling of the city's lights providing any illumination. She would constantly tell you how gorgeous you are and that you are the only girl she would want in the entire world.

She would also be really needy to be inside you, whether that's her tongue, fingers, or cock. It would be the best part of her day. Whenever she's at her office, you'll always drive there to give her a hot soup, tea, and an allergy relief pill because she can't stop sneezing and coughing. After eating, she would repay you by letting you cockwarm her while she finished some mission reports Furry assigned her.

All I can think about is edging Subby Natasha, tying her wrists and ankles to your bedpost with her eyes starting to water for all the stimulation. One of your hands would hold one of the vibrators you repurchased a couple months ago while the other jerked her off slowly. Her hips would be out of control as you moved your hand slowly up and down her shaft.

She would whimper so loud, too, asking you if she could come yet. Telling you that she's been so good for you and that you should let her come.

"Please, y/n, it hurts, please."

"Five more minutes, okay?" You tell her before changing the speed on your vibrator back to low. Her abs would start clenching as she threw her head back into the pillows, silent moans leaving her mouth.

You slowly pulled the vibrator away from Natasha's tip, precum rolled down the sides of her cock. Her head would immediately shoot up from where she was resting it and look at you with a few tears coming out of her eyes.

"N-no, why did you stop?" As she complained to you, she extended her arm towards you in an attempt to grab hold of your hand, only to be impeded by the tautness of the rope obstructing her path.

"2 more minutes, Tash, for me, m'kay?"

"Can't!"

"I know you can, baby." Your hand would go back to jerking her off faster, your thumb touching her tip every time your hand came up. Her hips would shoot up more quickly as she chanted your name, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

With one more loud moan, she would shoot her cum everywhere. :( Her legs would shake so badly as you let her ride out her high.

"Did so good for me, Nat, That wasn't that bad, was it?"

HI!! I loved your nerdy nat one, pls do moree nerdy tasha (only if u want ofc) AND YOU'RE AMAZING BTW

Imagine nerdy Natasha sneaking over to your house right before you go to bed. The round glasses adorning her face would be askew, and her breathing would be labored; you could see the sweat on her forehead.

"Jesus, Natasha, you scared the shit out of me!" you tell her quickly, turning around from where you are sitting at your vanity.

"I'm sorry y/n! I just - can I...can I eat you out? Please! I just need to taste you; I can't get it out of my head, y/n!" Natasha stands there quietly; you can see blush building up on her face while she looks down at her shoes.

"Tash, I haven't taken a shower yet."

"That's okay! I just need you right now."

You let out a small sigh that becomes a smile. You get up from the vanity seat and make your way to Natasha, bringing her into a hug.

"If you need me that bad, go ahead; I can't turn down you eating me out, huh?" You whisper into her ear before pulling away from her.

Natasha quickly gets down on her knees and pulls your shorts and panties down, her glasses starting to fog up from her fast actions. She shoves her face into your pussy, tongue kitten licking your clit. Her hands shoot up to hold your thighs in her hands.

A small moan leaves your mouth as you place your hands in her hair. Her mouth stopped their teasing actions, and lapping up your juices, a low groan could be heard coming from Natasha.

"Tatse so good wanna do this forever." She mumbles out to her, her words slurring into your cunt.

"Yeah? Need my pussy that bad?" you tell her before letting out a loud moan when Natasha placed her thumb on your clit while she lapped at your pussy.

She inched herself closer to your leg, pressing her hard-on on you. Slowly bucking her hips into you.

"You're so cute, Natty, even need my help to get yourself off." Your hands make a makeshift ponytail with her long hair and shove her face into your pussy.

"F-feels good." Natasha stutters to you, moving one of her hands away from your thighs and up to your cunt, pushing 2 fingers into your tight hole.

"Oh my god, Natasha, Keep doing that!" You watched as Natasha slowly pushed her fingers inside you, your mouth hanging open. Natasha's tongue moving to circle your clit.

Natasha brings the other hand on your thigh down to her sweatpants, palming her bulge while she eats you out.

Natasha speeds up as she fingers you, occasionally curling her fingers, hitting your g-spot.

"Such a good girl for me, Nat! I'm so close, baby." She lets out moan after moan, the vibrations from her voice only bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck Natasha!" You moan out to her before reaching your high. You buck your hips into her mouth several times to ride off your orgasm.

Natasha pulls her face away from her cunt, her glasses are far off her eyes, and her hair is disheveled. Her mouth is covered with your juices. You look down at her lower body and still see her palming herself.

"Can I eat you out again?"

. Hold on because I tried to delete this stupid ass line, and it's not letting me. The 2nd one is a mistake, so pls ignore it. And thank you for what you said when you requested!!

Okay- so like- nerdy Natasha. I’m obsessed😭😭 I can’t stop thinking about one of the last prompts, about her being scared to get rough. Like omggg— she would be fucking reader so gently but she’ll remember that r told her it was okay to be more rough with her then all the sudden she has r on all fours and telling her what to do, ahhhhhhhhhhh😭😭😭 pls you need to write thissssss

Hesitating

Warnings: Sub to dom! Natasha, mentions pregnancy, breeding, touch sex, soft sex, dirty talk, Natasha has a dick, spanking

Pairings: Intersex nerdy Natasha x fem reader

Word count: 1.3k

"I-is this okay y/n?" Natasha asks you, slowly easing her hips into you, waiting for you to adjust to her size. Her hands resting on either side of your head. Low grunts came out of her mouth whenever she felt you squeeze around her.

"Mhm, you can keep on going nat." Your hands going to warp around her back, a moan coming out of your mouth when Natasha bottomed out inside of you. Her hips making thrusting into you gently and cautiously. Her hands moved away from your head and grasped your waist tightly, her movements getting a bit faster.

"Feel so good around my cock baby," Natasha tells you, her hands gripping tighter around your waist, forcing them to move with every thrust Natasha made.

Soft moans left your mouth as Natasha thrust into you. Her head lowered to reach your face and gave you a soft kiss on your lips, your moans getting stifled by the action. She pulls her face away and grasps your hand, intertwining it with her own. A small smile plastered your face at the action.

Her pace doesn't speed up or slow down, she always wanted to be cautious when making you feel good since you were her first, you were her first priority. Only caring about your needs rather than her own.

Her cock hits your cervix with every thrust, her eyes closing at how warm and tight your pussy is.

"You can fuck me rougher if you want baby." You tell Natasha out of the blue, you swear you can see her face get a bit red at your statement.

"A-are you sure y/n? I don't want to hurt you." Natasha tells you, her hips stopping their movements as she pulls out of you slowly to look down at your face. Her hand came up to her forehead to wipe away the beads of sweat that were forming.

"I promise you Nat you aren't going to hurt me."

"Okay - I'll try, but if I accidentally hurt you let me know!" Natasha tells you, another smile forming on your face.

Natasha quickly lifts your body up and lays down your stomach. You can still tell that Natasha is nervous by the way her hands slowly shake when she touches you and the shakiness in her voice.

"Can you lift your hips up for me?" She asks you gently, slowly caressing your backside. You slowly lift your hips up to tease Natasha, your back arching as you lie your face into the pillow.

"Fuck, you're so pretty y/n." Natasha positions herself higher so she's right behind you, her hand slowly makes it away from your back, bringing her now empty hand down to your ass, slapping it hard enough to leave an imprint of her hand. A little moan falls from your mouth when you feel her hand make contact with your ass.

The same hand quickly comes down to soothe the area where she had made contact with.

"I'm sorry, did that hurt." She whines out to you, her hand still caressing your ass.

"No - fuck keep doing what you're doing Natasha please."

Natasha brings her still-hard cock up to your cunt, slowly running it through your folds to collect your wetness.

"Still so wet for me huh?" Natasha tells you while pushing her cock back into you. Her hands make their way back up to your hips. This time when she thrust her hips she moves at a faster and harder pace.

'Natasha, oh my god!" You moan out to her, your hands going to grip the sheets that were beneath you.

"You like it when I fuck you like a little slut?"

"Yes, love it so much Nat, please." Natasha let out continuous moans when she felt you squeeze around her harder, making it hard for her to not cum.

One of her hands leaves your hips and forms a ponytail with your hair, hardly bringing your face up as she fucks you. Her hips now slamming into you. She brings the hand that's on your hip down and slaps your ass again, loving the way her hand print looked on your ass.

"Shit, rub your clit for me y/n." She tells you as she throws her head back. You quickly move your hand down to your clit and start to make fast circles on the bud.

"Mm, p-please don't stop Nat." You moan out to her, one of your hands grabbing the already shaky headboard. Now it was your turn to be a moaning mess.

"Wasn't planning on it." She growls out to you her hand still having a hard grip on your waist. Your hips make a pathetic attempt to roll and meet her thrust. Her hips immediately stopped their movement.

"Who said you could do that?"

"Please, Natasha." You moan out to her, ignoring her question.

"Answer me or I'm not letting you cum."

"No one 'm sorry didn't mean to, please I need you so bad." You whimper out to her, your cunt squeezing around in an attempt to feel some sort of pleasure.

"Yeah? You need me? Pathetic." Her hand lets go of your hair and pins both of your hands together, bringing them to your back and she continues thrusting into you. The room was filled with your moans and skin slapping together. The bed creaked the harder Natasha thrust inside of you.

Natasha's tip was pounding against your sensitive spot making your eyes roll back.

"So close Nat, please let me cum?" You moan out to her as your head moved to the side of the pillow.

"Cum with me baby." She moans, taking her free hand down and rubbing your clit to increase your pleasure."

"Fuck, you'd look so good with my baby. Should just fuck you till your pregnant huh?"

All you can do is moan back as a response, tears now coming down from your eyes. Your hands clench in the position they're in trying to break free of Natasha's grasp but she's too strong. Your cunt clenched around her one last time as you let loose, your orgasm washing over you as your body went limp in her hand as a loud moan left you mouth.

Natasha thrust her hips into you the best she could a few more times. before shooting her hot cum into you. "Jesus Christ y/n." She moaned out to you as she put her weight on your back.

Natasha slowly pulled out of you, trying to be cautious of your sensitive state. "Did so good for me y/n."

You can't even reply to her, your body in the same position it was in as she fucked you. "I'm just gonna clean you up now y/n, okay?"

You slowly shake your head and roll back onto your back. Natasha goes to the bathroom and comes back with a warm towel, cleaning you slowly before putting on a pair of underwear and s shirt for you.

"Didn't know you had that in you Natasha," You tell her before giggling to yourself.

"I didn't know either, kinda just came to me. But I liked it, I think I'm gonna do it more." She tells you from a distance away as she looks in the drawers for a new pair of boxers and a wife beater.

"Guess I should prepare myself then, huh. Like I really didn't expect that for you Nat."

"Well, was I at least good at it?"

"You were more than good, now I have something new to tell Wanda so thank you for that."

"Yeah yeah you're wel- wait you tell Wanda about this stuff." She asks you before making her way back into the bed.

"I-uhh. Maybe?"

"Eh, it's fine I guess, she's a close friend, just don't tell anyone else, please." Her face heated up once more as she laid down on the bed and shoved her face into your breast.

"What just happened? You were so...scary like 10 minutes ago and you're back to being shy again."

"It's the y/n effect."

"It's okay, I think it's cute." You tell her before laying on your ideas well.

"I love you y/n," Natasha tells you before giving you a quick kiss on the lips and turning the bedside table lamp off.

"Love you too Nat."

hey! if you're taking requests, i'd like to make one:

with the latest natasha you've written (nerdy!amab!nat) wearing a compression shirt and grey sweatpants 😩😭🥵 and reader obviously can't do anything else but give her head

In a trance

Warnings: oral (n receiving) sub! Natasha, fluff, deepthroating, That's it I think

Pairings: Intersex Beefy Natasha Romanoff (she has a dick) x fem reader.

An: Thank you for the request, please keep them coming innn

Word count: 1.7k

You were making your way to your girlfriend's house. She wanted to watch some movies with you and maybe take you to an ice skating rink. The frigid air nipped at your nose and cheeks. Despite the cold, you felt a warmth in my heart knowing that I would soon be spending some quality time with her. The snowflakes gently fell from the sky, adding to the atmosphere of the holiday season.

You knocked on her door a few times when you arrived at her doorstep, waiting a couple of minutes for her to answer the door. "Hi, Y/n! sorry it took me so long to get the door, Yelena was being annoying as usual and was blocking my way." She told you before bringing you into a hug. Your head buried in her chest.

"It's okay Nat, as long as I get to see you I'm fine." You tell her with a smile on your face, her face lighting up as you say that.

As you and Natasha talk, you catch a good glimpse of her outfit. Her glasses have fogged up slightly, She's dressed in a sleek Nike compression shirt, which highlights her toned muscles and defined abs. The black sleeves of the shirt hug her biceps snugly, accentuating her strength. It still shocks you that she has such a muscular build, she doesn't look like the type of person to work out.

Her sweatpants are loose, but you can still see the prominent bulge in her pants. She's totally oblivious to the fact that her outfit is so revealing.

"Is everything okay y/n? Are you gonna come in?" She asks you, her cheeks starting to become red from the chilling air.

"Mhm - I was just thinking about something sorry." You tell Natasha and walk into her house. As you enter, you notice that it is already adorned with festive decorations, indicative of the upcoming holiday. Upon glancing over to the side, you see Melina diligently preparing a meal in the kitchen. Meanwhile, Alexi sits comfortably at the island counter, engaged in conversation with her with a bottle of beer In his hand.

His head turning around when he heard the front door close.

"Oh hi Y/n. How are you?" He asks, a smile igniting his face as he talks to you.

"Y/n's here? Why didn't you tell me, Natalia? I would've already had dinner done. Hi, y/n!" Melina tells Natasha. She rolls her eyes a bit and waits for you to finish your conversation with her parents. Her arms snake up around your waist and hug it as she places her head in the crook of your neck.

"Natalia, don't roll your eyes at your mother. I saw that." Alexi told Natasha before looking back at you.

"Hi Alexi, Hi Melina, I'm fine just a little cold." You tell him, bringing your hands up to Natasha's arms and holding them in place.

"Well, it should warm up in a few minutes, Melina is cooking dinner if you wanna stay for that." He asks you before getting up to throw away the empty beer bottle in the trash can.

"Sure, thank you for letting me stay for dinner, Alexi." You tell him and he replies with a simple nod, turning his head back to talk with Melina.

"Can we go into my room nowww," Natasha whines in your ear, unwrapping her hand from your waist and turning you around so she could look at your face.

"Please?" You ask her, and Natasha immediately picks you up and brings you to her room, laughs come out of both of your mouths as she runs with you in her arms.

When she gets into her room she puts you down on the bed cautiously, and plops on the bed herself, rolling over to her side to look at you.

"You look so pretty right now y/n," Natasha tells you before sitting upright on the bed. You smile at her and give her a quick kiss. Blush making its way across Natasha's face.

"But you look so sexy in the outfit Nat, you should wear it more." You tell her before sitting on her lap and resting your head on her shoulder.

She lets out a small groan and grabs the Tv remote, trying hard to ignore how your little shifts on her lap caused her to get hard.

"What do you wanna watch?" She asked you, turning on the tv and scrolling through all of the channels she had on the device.

"Ummm, can we watch y/f/m?" You tell her and turn your head back a bit to see her face, shifting your lower body in the process. Natasha's breath became uneven and shaky as you moved your hips. Her head moves up and down avoiding contact with your eyes.

A smirk came upon your face as you felt something poke your back. You sat back in your original position and rested your head on her shoulder once more.

As the movie progressed, Natasha grew increasingly restless in her seat, letting out the occasional audible groans. She became more touchy at the moment too, her veiny hands inching higher and higher up to your breasts.

"What's wrong Natasha? You feeling okay." You ask her, trying to act oblivious to the fact that she had a raging hard-on right now.

"Yeah - I feel fine, thanks for asking y/n/n." Her words came out shaky as she spoke to you thrusting her hips slightly into your body.

"Are you sure you okay baby? Your face is turning all red." You tell her, turning your whole body around to face her, making sure your lower body grinds over her cock.

She lets out a low moan and her hands grab her bed sheets, squeezing the tightly as you move your body.

"Y-yes y/n. I promise you I feel fine." Her face starting become a deeper shade of red, embarrassment washing over her.

You slide your body down her legs a couple of inches and look down at her crotch. A tent appeared in her sweatpants, your hand coming up to meet her cock, slowly grabbing it and moving your hand.

Natasha let out a loud moan, your hand shot up to cover her mouth as she threw her head back against the pillows.

"What happened Nat? Though you said you were fine." You tell her before moving your hand away from her clothed cock. A muffled whine left her mouth when she felt the pleasure go away.

"You gotta be quiet Tasha, okay? Don't want your parents to hear you. You tell her before letting your hand that covered her mouth go. Moving both of your hands around her waistband, slowly pulling down her sweatpants.

"Please y/n, it's starting to hurt." Her hips move every time you touch her.

"I got you okay? Just gotta be quiet for me that's it."

She nodded her head and looked down to see what you were doing. Your hands were coming back up to the waistband of her Calvin Klein boxers, slowly pulling them down. Her cock sprang out and hit her shirt, covering it with her pre-cum.

You immediately go down on Natasha, kitten licking her tip for a few minutes, before taking her fully. She was so big and girthy, it was always hard to take her cock fully, but you were always determined to.

"Oh god y/n, y-your mouth feels so good." She moans out to you, her hands making their way up to your hair only to rest them. She was still too shy to push your head down to the base of her cock because she didn't want to hurt you.

Your head bobs up and down on her cock. You feel the throbbing veins in her cock as it hits the back of your throat. You look up at her with hollowed cheeks seeing her face contort in pleasure. Her moans got louder and louder the more you took her. Your hands come up to her thighs, stabilizing them as you sucked her off.

Natasha's hand shoots up to her mouth as groans leave her mouth, her eyes start to close and her hips buck up even with your hands holding them down, she still manages to move them. Her cock goes further into your throat your hands grip tighter around her thighs as you continue to take her. She watches you with hazy eyes, lips sealed around her, and takes her to the base.

The grip she had on your hair got tighter. Her breathing got faster as she trusted herself with you. Your eyes become glassy at her movements. One of your hands moving

"Fuck y/n i-"

With an attempt at a warning, Natasha cums into your mouth. Hot spurts of her cum fill your mouth, some spilling out on the side of your lips. You pull your head away from her cock as you swallow her cum, seeing that it's semi-hard.

"Thank you y/n. felt so good." She tells you before pulling her boxers and sweatpants back up. Her cheeks still being flushed with red from the humid air in her room.

"You're welcome, Nat. Anything for you baby, let's just hope your parents didn't hear you.

"Was I that loud?"

"Yes, you were that loud. But it was cute, I like it when you're that loud for me." You tell her with a smile on your face as you moved to sit next to her.

She let out a sigh before looking over at you and smiling, giving you a small peck on the lips. Natasha scoots closer to you and places one of her hands on your thigh.

"Wait, what about you? Can I repay the favor?" She asks you, a concerned look coming over her face.

"It's fine my love, plus I don't think your parents would be happy hearing us fuck right now." You say as you look up at her face.

She lets out a small laugh and brings you closer to her body.

"I'm just saying, Natasha! I think they already heard you."

"Well, we can't go back and change that, guess we are stuck up here for the whole night."

"I'm not mad about that." You tell her, burying your head into her shoulder as you focus back on the movie that was left running.

"Me either." She whispers into your ear while smiling and looking back up at the screen.

Starstudded

Warnings: handjob (n receiving) car sex, riding, kind of public sex, p in v, unprotected sex

Pairings: intersex virgin Natasha x Fem reader

highschool au

Word count: 2.6k

This relates to this post I made: Here

Natasha was taking you out on a date for your 6-month anniversary. She had devised the idea to take you out on a picnic date during the sunset. When you agreed to do this with her, a warm smile coated her face. It was something you loved to see and made you happy.

Once you had helped Natasha load the truck the two of you started to drive down to the park. Natasha immediately started to ramble on about the new Tv she started watching with her mom.

"Y/n, you won't believe me on how cool the CGI looked in this episode until you actually watch it with me. Please watch it with me." She says to you, turning her head to the side to see you looking at her. Her lips curled upwards before she turned her head back to the road.

"Mhm, I will Tash, but you gotta tell me when they air baby. You have a habit of watching the episodes and not telling me when you're watching them."

"Oh, yeah-I'll tell you next time, 'swear. I'm sorry!" She tells you, her hand running through her hair and returning right back to the wheel.

"No need to be sorry Nat, I know it wasn't on purpose so I'm not mad." You tell her, before looking out the window on your side. You stare at all of the tall buildings and people walking on sidewalks. It was one of the best things about living in the city.

The car was soon quiet with a comfortable silence. The only things you could hear were the soft music of the radio and cars driving past Natasha's.

you sat comfortably in the passenger seat, and you notice Natasha's hand slowly making its way to your knee, her touch feels warm and reassuring to you. She was too shy to move her hand up closer to your thigh even though the two of you have been dating for 6 months.

Her hand moved up on down slowly, she was hoping you wouldn't say anything about it. Natasha's head occasionally looked at you when you weren't looking. She loved you so much and never wanted to end it.

The last 5 minutes passed in the car. Natasha parked in a parking spot and got out of the car. You followed out and left the car as well, heading over to the trunk to get to blanket Natasha had bought just for this date. You smiled at it and looked at Natasha once more who was carrying the basket that had the food you two had bought, and her telescope.

"You really love that thing huh?" You ask her eyeing the telescope she had in her left hand, laughing a little.

"What? My telescope?" She responded back, closing the trunk and looking at you.

"Mhm, love it more than me?" You said back to her a fake pout coating over your face.

"No! I love you more than this telescope y/n! Sure, it was 3,000 dollars and I did have to do lots of begging for it, but I love you way more." Natasha pleaded with you, almost dropping the two things in her hand

"I was just joking Nat, of course, I know that you love me, my love. Now let's go find a good spot to set up this stuff Kay?"

She nodded her head slightly, trying not to make her glasses fall off of her face. Natasha locked the car and started walking over to the grassy area. You followed right behind her, catching up to her and walking beside her.

After strolling for a few minutes, the perfect spot to lay down your belongings finally revealed itself. It offered a beautiful vantage point to take in the stunning cityscape. Without delay, you began to unfurl the blanket, smoothing out the creases and placing it gently on the soft grass. Meanwhile, Natasha diligently assembled her trusty telescope, ensuring that it was properly aligned. so the both of you could see the stars and hopefully a planet.

Natasha let out a happy sigh, being satisfied with her work, and walked over to you. Seeing you already sat down on the blanket, she laid down right next to you. Her eyes gazed upon your face. She had the softest look on her face, you swear you could see a sparkle in her eyes when you looked down at her.

"You're so pretty y/n/n. I could stare at you forever, just like the stars." Natasha tells you before sitting up. A smile comes up on your face and you give her a kiss, her cheeks heating up with red.

"You're too cute Tasha." You tell her bringing her into a hug. Natasha let out a laugh and hugged you back.

"Can we eat y/n? I'm soooo hungry." She tells you, immediately switching topics but still hugging you.

"Of course Nat, you don't have to ask me you know." You tell her and pull away from the hug, reaching over to the basket and grabbing the food that Natasha packed for herself and giving it to her.

"Thank you, y/n/n," she said to you before she started savoring her food. She managed to get the workers at a popular sandwich place to cut her bread into two stars. It was the cutest thing ever, seeing her open up the plastic and eat her star-shaped sandwiches, You reciprocated her smile and reached for your own meal from the basket, enjoying it alongside her.

▹ 𝆤࿙๋࿙࿚⊱𖹭⊰࿙࿚๋࿚𝆤

Natasha and you had finished your meal. You two had talked about life in general. Natasha brought up how she was gonna bring her guitar out here but Melina said no because she already brought her telescope and she knew Natasha would drop one and break it.

"You don't understand y/n! I had this amazing song written for you, planned just for tonight and she goes and tells me I can't bring my guitar? It's so stupid!" She told you, her face frowning up.

"Hey, it's okay Natasha. I bet Melina would let me come over tomorrow after school, play it for me then okay?"

"M'kay, but it won't be the same..." She whispers the last part and lays down on the blanket, right next to where you were laying.

"Natasha it's gonna sound beautiful either way I know it." You reassure her and move over to your side so you can see her. You see her looking up at the sky trying to see any stars, her hands laying on her stomach. It was a comforting view.

After a while, Natasha shifted onto her side and fixed her gaze upon you. As your eyes met, a profound sense of connection seemed to pass between you both, enveloping you in a shared moment of contemplation and understanding.

Natasha moved closer to you and put her hands on your face. "I-is this okay?" She asks you, always wanting your reassurance whenever she touched you.

"Mhm." You whisper out to her. Her lips met yours, your hands wrapping around her back as you kissed her passionately. The only thing you two could hear was the sound of cars driving past the park and the wind moving the tree branches around.

By now most people had left the park, the only people that passed were peopled that walked and ran late at night. Natasha pulled away from the kiss and looked at you.

"Could we um-do this in the car?" She whispered out to you, even though no one was around. Her face getting red as she looked down at her pants.

"Sure baby, but do you have a reason why?" You tried to act like you didn't know why she wanted to go into the car, but you obviously knew, feeling the hard-on Natasha had.

"I-I don't know." She replies back to you, looking in every direction except your face. you let out a chuckle and look away.

You sat yourself up and started to put all the trash away in the basket you had brought out. Natasha quickly stood herself up and covered her hands where her hard-on was, turning her back towards you quickly so she could put her telescope she didn't use away.

You quickly folded the blanket that was placed on the grass and grabbed the two items. You waited for Natasha to finish folding her telescope before you went down to the car.

"You don't have to wait y/n. Just take the keys I'll be down there in a second. She tells you, giving you the car keys. You walked down to the car and loaded the trunk once more. You got back into the passenger seat and waited on Natasha to get in the car.

A couple minutes later she entered the car. Her hands still covering her hard-on, and her face was looking out the window, still not trying to look at you.

"Do you need help with that baby?" You ask her, moving her hand away from her cock and palming her through her sweatpants. A low groan left her mouth as she threw her head back against the seats.

"Please." She whined out to you, her hips already moving up from your movements.

"Already so hard for me Nat? Didn't even do anything and you're hard huh baby?" You tell her before slipping down her sweatpants, leaving her in only a hoodie and boxers.

Her cock standing up in its confinements only made Nat needier for you, a small wet stain was now prominent at the top of her boxers. She let out loud and shaky breaths and she waited for you to do something.

You slowly pull down Natasha's boxers, her cock springing out and hitting her stomach, a moan leaves her mouth when you circle her tip with your thumb, slowly bringing one of your hands down to jerk her off. Her hips move up at their own pace to fuck your hand.

"F-fuck, y/n if you keep doing that I'll cum too fast s-slow down please" She moaned out to you, her hands gripping the side of the seats while you jerked her off.

Loud moans kept on falling from her mouth as you moved your hand up and down faster around her, using your hand and squeezing it just a bit so it could stimulate Natasha's pleasure.

"Look so cute right now Tash, your cock is always so needy for me hm?" She looks at you again, her eyes hazy and her mouth opened, moan after moan leaving her mouth.

"Oh fuck y/n i'-"

With an attempt at a warning, Natasha cums all over her her hoodie and your hand. Her hips bucked into your hand slightly as you slowed down your movements.

"Good job Nat." You tell her before giving her a kiss on the lips. You pull away after a few seconds and see that her face is flushed with red, her mid-length hair sticking to her face as she looked up at you.

"Y/n-i'm still hard." She tells you while looking down at her cock, her glasses had some fog on them so she took them off and sat them on the dashboard.

"Go sit down in the back Nat, let me ride you." You tell her, Natasha doesn't need to hear another word before she's climbing over the storage compartment and into the backseat. She quickly takes off her hoodie, leaving her in only a wifebeater. She lets out a groan while she waits for you.

You quickly slip down your sundress leaving you in only a bra and panties, you make your way to the backseat where Natasha was waiting and sit on her lap.

"Are we gonna do this here y/n, I mean, what if we get caught?" She asks you coming a little scared of having sex in the back of her car.

"Do you not want to do it anymore? If you don't want to that's find, but I just jerked you off Nat." You tell her looking straight into her face.

"No-no I still want to do it, just please hurry it's starting to hurt. And my mom is gonna wonder why I'm out so late so we have to make this quick y/n/n" Natasha tells you before kissing your neck, her hands making their way to your back and unclasping your bra.

You quickly move your panties to the side while Natasha is occupied kissing your neck. You slowly sink yourself down onto Natasha's cock. You needed a couple minutes to adjust to her because she was so big.

Natasha stopped kissing your neck and let out another loud moan into the car.

"Feel so good in me Nat." You moan out to her and wrap your arms around her, sinking down onto her cock once more, you slowly get down to the base of her cock.

"So full baby, you fill mommy up so good my love." You tell Natasha, her head resting in the crook of your neck as you started moving your hips up and down.

The both of you let out loud moans as you rode her. Her hands make their wait onto your waist and move you up and down. Natasha's eyebrows are scrunched as she focuses on your pussy squeezing her cock. You two have had sex a couple of times, but she's so hooked on your pussy.

"S-so good y/n." She moans into your ear, her hips thrusting up at the same time as you. The windows were all fogged up now, the car being humid and hot. Your hand reached out to the window, leaving your handprint on the glass.

Natasha moved one of her hands away from your waist and onto your clit, making you moan out into the air. Her fingers fastened their pace when she saw the look on your face.

"Does that feel good y/n?" She asks you in between shaky breaths.

"Mhm, keep doing that baby." You tell her and lean your forehead against hers. Your hips getting faster as you got closer to your orgasm, you could tell Natasha was already close by the way her eyes started to close.

"Shit, cum with me y/n please." She begs out to you, the one hand she had on your waist tightening.

After a few more seconds you finally came around her cock, squeezing around her tightly so she can finish.

"Oh my god y/n," Natasha whispers into your ear before letting go inside of you, her hot cum painting the inside of your walls. The both of you fall into a comfortable silence as you catch your breath.

"That was good, thank you y/n," Natasha tells you before she helps you get off of her cock.

"Of course baby, but I do think we should get back home, it's already 11:30 and you said you were gonna be home by 10." You tell her before putting your sundress back on and giving Natasha her boxers and pants.

"Already?! Uhhhh, fuck my hoodie. Um, can you take it home with you y/n, I already know I'm gonna get questioned by my parents about why I'm out so late and these stains aren't gonna make it better?" She tells you handing the hoodie over shyly.

"Of course Nat, I'm gonna keep it for a few weeks because it will remind me of you when you're not next to me," you tell Natasha and smile before getting back up to the front seat.

Natasha follows closely behind you, coming up to sit in the driver's seat, she grabs her glasses and cleans them with her shirt and puts the back on her face

"I had a fun time tonight y/n."

"Me too Tash, don't forget I'm coming over tomorrow to listen to your song so you better be ready okay?"

"Okay, I promise I'll be up before 12," She tells you and you both laugh at her promise.

"Yeah, you better, or else I'm telling Melina to take away all of your comics."

"Ha ha ha, you're so funny y/n," Natasha tells you before she starts driving out of the park and driving you back to your house.

Nerdy Natasha hcs

Warnings: Unprotected zex, g!p Natasha, oral, uhhh idk

Pairings: G!p Natasha x fem reader (men and minors dni!!)

sfw

. Nerdy!Natasha who would be so shy the first time you walked past her. Her face would be so red. her mind thinking about you that all the books she just checked out from the library almost fell out of her hands.

. Nerdy!Natasha who would only wear her favorite band and comic book shirts to school.

. Nerdy!Natasha who would be so happy that your Ap English teacher paired your two together for the book report project that was due in a few weeks.

. Nerdy!Natasha who has space and band posters all over her room.

. Nerdy!Natasha who gets so shy around you even though it has been a few months since you two has started talking.

. Nerdy!Natasha who comes over to your house with flowers and a teddy bear from build-a-bear in her hand and asks if you want to be her girlfriend. A small blush would cover her face as her head looks down at her beaten-up converse, her glasses slightly coming off of her face. You obviously say yes and hug her tightly.

. Nerdy!Natasha who would definitely take you out on a picnic date as a first date on top of her apartment building's roof where you would be able to see all of the buildings in the city. When you were done eating the chick-fil-a she bought, she would lay in between your legs and talk to you about different things while you played with her hair.

. Nerdy!Natasha who would not know how to kiss properly because she never hangs out with anyone, so you spend an hour making out with her. Her glass would be crooked and fogged up, but a large smile would errupt from her face when you pulled away from the kiss and hugged her.

. Nerdy!Natasha who would surprisingly work out a few times a week. You found out by coming over to her apartment on a random day, you asked Melina where Natasha was, and she answered in the gym and to say you were shocked was an understatement. She had a nice build too, she would have a six-pack, and lots of muscle on her arms and legs, and her back muscles would be crazy as well.

. Nerdy!Natasha who would get so embarrassed when Yelena called her out for finally getting a girlfriend after 18 years of her life.

. Nerdy!Natasha who is way taller than you, you would be 5'4 or 5'5 and she would be 6'3.

. Nerdy!Natasha who would come up to during free period and talk about her favorite show that came on last night and how you should've seen that episode because it was so cool.

. Nerdy!Natasha who would have the veiniest hands and arms. Anytime she comes behind you and wraps her hands around your waits, all you can do is stare at how veiny her hands are.

. Nerdy!Natasha who would be there every day of your cycle. Bringing you your favorite snacks, watching your favorite movies and cuddling with her.

. Nerdy!Natasha who loves Halloween and made you two dress up in cardboard robot costumes.

. Nerdy!Natasha who has a large display of Fender guitars, she takes time out of her days to write songs about you and end up playing them for you.

nsfw

. Nerdy!Natasha who would invite you over to her apartment (with her parents' permission) and would open the door to see you standing there. Your eyes were immediately met with her sweatpants and the big bulge she had. Natasha didn't even know, she's so unaware of anything that has to do with sex it's crazy.

. Nerdy!Natasha who would have the biggest hard-on ever while thinking of you, but she couldn't get off. She tried looking at porn and jerking off, but it just didn't feel good. She was too embarrassed to call you and ask for help so she just waited it out.

. Nerdy!Natasha who would be the biggest virgin ever, she tried to convince you that she has sex with other girls, but she had no idea what she was talking about. It was painfully obvious she was inexperienced, but you acted like you believed her just for her self-esteem.

. Nerdy!Natasha who finally let you take her virginity. You laied her down on her bed and pulled down her pants and saw her raging hard-on, pre-cum was already stained on her boxers as she lifted her hips to get some type of friction. You finally moved her boxers down to her mid-thigh. She would get so shy and try to put her hand in front of her cock, but you slap her hand away. You would try and tease her by giving her a handjob, moving your hand up and down, and having your thumb trace over her tip, but she came as soon as you started. Poor girl barely lasted 30 seconds, her face would be so red, and she would be apologizing profusely to you.

the same thing would happen when she trys to fuck you. Your pussy just feels so good around her. She lasts about 2 minutes which is an improvement but doesn't pull out in time, once again she would apologize immensely to you.

"Oh no, i'm sorry y/n. Please don't be mad." She would whine out to you and place her head in your neck.

. Nerdy!Natasha who would have a big dick and no one at your school knew. She would probably be a good 7-8 inches. It came as a surprise to you when you saw her in just boxers and a wife beater when she came out of the shower. Your eyes started at the outline of her cock, and she wouldn't even know. She's so naive.

. Nerdy!Natasha who would love to make you feel good. after teaching her how to please you, she couldn't stop. She would always sneak into your apartment late at night just to eat you out. You don't even have time to process what's happening until you feel her warm mouth kissing your pussy.

. Nerdy!Natasha who thinks about you 24/7 and ends up getting a boner in class. She asks to go home because she was feeling under the weather but actually went home to jerk off to photos of you. She felt so guilty after, she lied to all of her teachers to go home and satisfy her needs.

. Nerdy!Natasha who would whimper everytime you touched her cock. She would moan so loud too. You have to put your hand over her mouth just so Melina and Alexi don't hear her. This girl would cry as well. Sucking her off for five minutes would have her in tears from ecstasy.

. Nerdy!Natasha who gets walked on by Melina and Alexi because she was moaning so loud when you were riding her. They thought she did something stupid like playing with her cardboard sword and got hurt, but they actually walked in on you on top of Natasha riding her.

You two both got yelled at by Melina and Alexi, and also had a very stern talk about safe sex. Yelena was in the hallway laughing at the lecturing her sister was getting. And Natasha would be so embarrassed, this girl was almost in tears.

. Nerdy!Natasha who finds a stuffed animal you gave to her and uses it as a fleshlight while you're gone on a family vacation because she needs you so bad.

. Nerdy!Natasha who gets hard so fast. IT can be at anything you do too. Sit on her lap - she's hard. Lick ice cream in an innocent manner - she's hard. Touch her thigh - she's hard.

. Nerdy!Natasha who would be so scared when you tell her to fuck you roughly. All she has ever done was ask if this was okay. She never wants to hurt you. But the first time she tries your advice it's like she became a whole different person. She was pounding you from the back and whispering praises into your ear as she fucks you.

. Nerdy!Natasha who breaks her bed a couple of times because you guys fuck so roughly. Alexi would be so suspicious of her lies every time he has to fix her bed.

. Nerdy!Natasha who has way bigger hands than you. So when she fingers you all she needs is one finger stuffed in your tight hole and you feel so full.

Nsfw links pt.3

Warnings: Fingering, Strap-on, bondage, Dom! Natasha, Idk

Parings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem reader

Natasha letting out sweet praises while having to keep her hand over your mouth because you're moaning too loud. Here

Milf!Natasha taking the time out of her day to fuck you better than any of your boyfriends have. Here

You acting up in the mall when Natasha was taking you shopping, so the only reasonable thing she can do is tie you up and punish you. Hopefully, this will teach you a lesson. Here

Natasha likes to let you ride her so you can feel like you have a bit of control over her (even though she's always in control) Here

You and Natasha getting stoned, and she can't help but need your pussy. Here

Natasha just using your mouth anyway she wants to. Here