Black Widow Imagine - Blog Posts

Family of two

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: When thinking about your future with Natasha, you worry that she might want kids someday; while you don't.

Requested by anon: So basically, Reader loves being an Avenger but loves Natasha more than anything. But there’s something that always has reader thinking she’ll never be enough for the red head. And it’s that Reader doesn’t ever want to have kids. She loves the Barton kids with all her heart but doesn’t want to be a mom ever. And because of that, feels she is not worthy to be with Natasha. So Nat starts to notice reader being sad and when she confronts her about it, all feelings come out. Reader even suggests letting Nat go so she can be with someone who wants a family, but…maybe Natasha reassures her that she wants reader? That reader is her family and she’s more than enough?

A/N: The long-awaited "Kids" WIP :p. I love this request because it hits home to me, I never ever want kids. So I'm sorry it took me a while to post it, I do hope you like it, my sweet anon <3. I have the distant feeling that, by my writing here, you can tell just how much I love Nat.

Masterlist

Believe it or not, even an Avenger needs a summer break sometimes. A moment to be able to relax and forget about the weight of the world. That's why you and your favorite person, Natasha, are spending a weekend at Clint's farmhouse, before moving on to the rest of your little vacation plan.

It was Clint's idea and you were happy to oblige, as was Natasha. You loved spending time at their house, both for the good company and breathtaking scenario. The green plains and trees all around were captivating, and the rustic structure of the house provided a cozy and familiar feeling you sometimes missed back at the Compound.

An easy smile came to you as Natasha entertained Nathaniel, the youngest of Clint's kids. Laura was making dinner with Clint by her side as moral support, mostly.

You observed from the couch. Laura dropped the vegetables in the pan as Clint rounded her with a steady hand on her waist and a kiss on her cheek, attending to his daughter's call about the TV that seemed to be acting up. And Natasha, she had a beautiful smile on as she tickled the smallest kid, his laughter mixing with her own.

The sight of your girlfriend made your heart drum in your ears. It's been two years, and yet, every time she glanced your way with that much adoration, it felt like you were back in that first week. Maybe that's what love is all about, no matter how long it passes, the giddiness of being loved by the person that holds your heart never goes away.

You glanced down at your hands, picking at your fingers. You could see yourself living a life like this, a peaceful one. With a farmhouse in a beautiful country side, you would happily indulge and you knew Natasha would as well. Except, not with children.

The thought has been on your mind for a while. You never wished for kids and you knew you never would. Since you were young you already knew that about yourself and it was not something you wanted to change.

Moving your eyes back up, you were met with Nat's gaze searching for yours in a silent question. You gave her a smile and lightly shook your head. You never talked about having kids with her, even if you noticed how much she liked Clint's kids. You wondered if it was something she wanted for herself.

You took a deep breath, feeling a small weight of anxiousness drop at your stomach. The last thing you wanted was to hold her back. Natasha deserved the world, and you often caught yourself wondering if you were enough to give it to her.

"Dinner's ready everyone." Laura called out and everyone rushed to the table. You were the last one to sit down and the last one to leave, remaining mostly quiet through the meal. Your thoughts were loud tonight. You did feel Natasha's eyes on you.

You went up to the guest room not long after, taking a shower and preparing yourself for a good night of sleep. Natasha was sitting on the bed when you came out of the shower, her towel and pajamas laying beside her.

She extended her hands out to you, making your body gravitate towards her. She closed her arms around your waist when you walked up to her.

You ran your fingers through her red hair, it was getting longer, starting to go way past her shoulders. Your lips tilted up in a lovesick smile.

She looked up at you from her sitting position, her chin resting on your stomach. "Are you okay? You've been quiet tonight."

You paused for a second, your hand coming to her cheek. You dismissed her worry with a smile. "I'm alright, love." You leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Now take a shower and come to bed, I want cuddles."

Natasha chuckled with your words, she got up and her hands never left your waist. She kissed your lips before gathering her things and going to the bathroom.

________

Every morning that you woke up with Natasha's arms around you felt like a dream. To be able to see her green eyes glistening in the early sunlight, her hair taking in vivid tones of orange, and her sleepy voice mumbling a good morning. To you, it was a dream.

Every morning you pulled her body impossibly closer to yours, kissing her collarbone and telling her how much you loved her as your lips grazed her skin. Because Natasha deserved nothing less.

You walked down the stairs to eat breakfast, your hand loosely holding hers. The windows were open and there was a chilly breeze coming through, making the leaves rustle outside. You could barely hear birds singing in the distance amidst the voices of the kids talking amongst themselves.

After breakfast, Lila decided she wanted to show you and Natasha a bird's nest that recently hatched its eggs. You watched amusedly as Natasha entertained the young girl's excitement, as well as returned the hug Nathaniel gave to her legs when you came back from the forest.

By lunch, the nagging thought at the back of your mind came back. And you were careless enough to let your distress show on your face, or maybe Natasha came to know you too well.

You walked inside the house to grab the rice that Laura had prepared earlier, everyone was outside enjoying the sun as Clint grilled up some steaks. You made your way to the kitchen, but a firm hand on your waist pulled you aside to one of the not-so-used corridors.

Natasha had you pinned against the wall, one of her hands resting on the wall beside your head, blocking your way out. You gulped when you saw that her eyes held no malice.

"Be honest with me, детка. Are you okay?" Her words were soft-spoken, and her eyes were searching your face in worry.

A breath left your lips and you looked down. Your hands loosely tugged at the ends of Nat's shirt to keep yourself busy. "I've just- I've been thinking about something."

You felt Natasha gently tracing your jaw with her other hand. "You can talk to me, if you want to."

You bit your lip, much to your dismay you could feel the distant sting of tears in your eyes. "I- do you want kids, Nat?" You breathed out, grimacing at the terrible way you voiced your thoughts.

Closing your eyes, you shook your head urging yourself to focus a little. "I mean, I see how much you like Clint's kids. And I can't help but wonder if that's something you want?"

You panicked when she didn't answer you right away, your mouth opening and closing. She was frowning at your words and that didn't look good. "It's just that, I don't think I can… Give that to you." Your voice became quieter, your hands were now clutching at her shirt.

"I'm sorry." You whispered to her. Natasha opened her mouth to answer you, but you talked first. "I never saw myself with kids but, I don't- I don't want to hold you back Nat. I won't be upset if you don't want to be with me anymore I-"

Natasha cut off your rambling when both her hands cupped your cheeks, her thumbs brushed away the stray tears you didn't notice had started to fall. "моя любовь, breathe." She whispered, her forehead coming to rest against yours.

You let out a trembled breath. Maybe this was bothering you more than you realized. Your hands held onto her waist more gently, pulling her closer to you.

Once Natasha felt that you had calmed down, she pulled away only to look into your eyes. "I do like them, Y/N. But that doesn't mean I want kids of my own."

Her hand brushed against your cheek tenderly, she gave a quick peck on your lips before continuing. "детка, you will always be the only family I'll ever need. If it's just you and me, that's more than enough."

Nat smiled adoringly at you, successfully melting your heart. "I don't need anyone else if I have you."

Natasha's words took your breath away, along with your ability to speak. You pulled her to you with a strong grip, pressing your lips to hers in a passionate kiss. Her hand came to the back of your head and tangled into your hair, as your tongue gently grazed her bottom lip.

Your lips moved in synch until the lack of air was too much to bear. "I love you. So much." You breathed out against her mouth, refusing to move away from her more than necessary. You felt her huge smile against you.

"The steak is gonna burn and I still don't see the rice anywhere." Clint shouted from outside, making you both giggle.

"I'm coming." You called out to him, biting your lip as you interlocked your fingers with Natasha's and pulled her towards the kitchen and then outside.

Natasha too would always be the only family you'd ever need.

—⧗—

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Nat’s taglist: @theperfectlovestory @blackwidowismylove

Let me know if you wanna be added to her taglist.

Thursday

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F.Reader

Word Count: 1200  

Warning: Angst. So much angst. 

Keep reading

Natasha Romanoff ~ Pain

Natasha Romanoff X fem!Reader Smut

Word count: 2,873

Includes: bondage, blindfold, masturbation, spanking, gagging, praise, fingering, edging, strap on, knife play (minor injury), overstimulation and oral

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Even with your sense heightened you couldn't hear a sound except your own shallow breathing. The blindold covering your eyes had left you to rely on your hearing while all you could see was darkness.

Having said that, your sense of touch seemed to have been sharpened, but that may have been down to having no clothes on. Natasha had pulled them all off you what seemed like centuries ago, leaving your skin hopeful to feel her touch.

Your wrists were beginning to sore from the tight rope holding them together above your head. They were secured to the metal bars at the top of the bed and ensured restricted movements from your hands.

Your ankles had a similar fate and were tied down to each of the bedposts, leaving your legs spread wide open for your girlfriend.

You lay on your stomach with your ass in the air and your head to the side, leaving the silky sheets against your cheek. Your girlfriend knew you felt vulnerable in such a position, something that was definetly a turn on, yet had never left you alone in that state before.

You could only imagine the teasing Natasha had planned for you. She knew all of your kinks, as you did hers, and she was more than willing to try most of them. But there was one she had been promising to do for so long you had come to assume it would never happen.

You were interrupted from your thoughts when you finally heard your girlfriend enter the room. The sound of her footsteps was followed by a mocking chuckle that always left you wet and wanti

"Look at my little whore, all tired up and helpless. Ready to be fucked" She spoke in her dominant tone darkly. You could only whimper in response.

"Please." You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

You could hear her footsteps coming closer to the bed before you felt the shift in weight distribution on the mattress.

You could hear her placing multiple objects down onto the bed and your mind wondered with all the possibilities of what those objects were.

You felt your dominant girlfriend straddle your waist and her bare skin against your own, sending electric sparls throughout your body.

Her slim fingers stroked the centre of your neck so lightly if you hadn't known it was her you would have assumed it was a feather.

The slight touch from her fingertips wandered in a straight line up your neck, jaw and chin. She held it lightly in her hand, her fingertips below your jaw and her thumb a centimetre below your bottom lip.

You knew she was prolonging the feeling of you shaking in anticipation beneath her.

Her thumb stroked the area and you responded by parting your lips for her more. You thought she would slip her thumb or fingers inside, as she had done countless times before, but instead she whipped off the blidfold.

Despite this newfound vision, Natasha was still out of your line of sight. Your disapintment was short lived when she gracefully got off your back and sat down in the chair facing you.

The last time you had seen the beauty she was fully clothed. But in that moment she displayed to you her red lingerie that clung to her body perfectly. It highlighted her curves and made your imagination run wild.

The lace bra and panties displayed about as much as they hid and you felt your arousal grow as your eyes wondered over the matching lacy suspender belt and stockings.

You wanted nothing more than to please her and have her moaning your name, but she had other plans.

"Like what you see?" She smirked as she spread her legs to show you just how thin the fabric was and how little it hid the outline of her pussy lips.

She leaned towards you as she captured her bottom lip between her teeth, maintaining her lustful stare. She placed two fingers on your lips and you instantly opened your mouth for her to slip them in this time.

You sucked on them as you stared back at her and swiped your tongue over the length of her slender fingers. She smirked at your eagerness as she pulled her fingers away and resumed her previous position in the chair.

You licked your own lips at the sight and saw Natasha's had wander teasingly across her stockings, thighs and then the wasitband of her panties, her fingers still glistening.

She didn't hesitate to rub the outline of her pussy through her panties, a sight that made your own pussy clench.

You heard her gasp out when she pressed down on her clit and once she brought her hand away you saw the wet patch she had made on her panties.

"Natasha..." you whined, wanting to touch her.

"No begging, or there will be consequences." She ordered again, breathlessly this time as she continued to stare me down. You nodded your head quickly before your gaze dropped back to those panties that deprived you of the full view.

Natasha's fingers slipped elegantly beneath the red fabric and disappeared into her wet folds. You could hear her moan softly as she started to pump two fingers inside herself at a steady pace.

Her other hand reached up to grap her left breast while she continued to finger herself infront of you. You so desperetly wanted to call out to her. To beg her to let you touch her, any way she wanted. But I knew you wouldn't be successful.

Natasha's pace increased as her moans grew louder and her thigh muscles clenched. You could tell she was close and without considering the consequences you called out to her.

"Tasha, please! Let me touch you." You whined and tried to squirm in your position. Your girlfriend's eyes darkened as a result yet she didn't stop.

You watched in awe as she came on her fingers while her head tilted back in bliss. It didn't take long for her to come down from her high and stand from the chair, her legs only slightly shaky.

"I warned you." Natasha spoke lowly as she moved around to the end of the bed. Part of you expected there to be some kind of warning for what followed, the rest of me knew better.

Natasha brought her hand down fast across your ass and you gave a cry of surprise and pain from the sudden feeling. You would have lurched forward if you weren't so tightly held down, but the restricted movements caused you to experience the pain more than you normally would.

"Quiet." Natasha ordered again. You bit your lip hard to supress any noises you would make.

However, this proved futile as the next time Natasha spanked you you moaned into the bed sheets, the sound definetly loud enough for your sadistic girlfriend to hear.

"Alright then, if you insist on keeping that slutty mouth of yours open..." Natasha didn't bother to fnish her sentence, knowing actions spoke louder than words.

She pulled my blindfold back down over your eyes before quickly spanking you again. This time when you opened your mouth to moan your girlfriend forced a breathable ball gag into your mouth and fastened it at the back of your head.

"Open one of your hands if you want me to stop. I won't be mad." She said gently into your ear, making you smile.

How your girlfriend was able to shift attitudes so drastically in a short space of time always baffled you, but your heart melted whenever she showed her caring side. Everytime you had been gagged she said the same thing.

You nodded and kept your hands in closed fists, hearing a chuckle from her in repsonse.

"Good girl." She hummed, returning to her dominant side. Before you could even respond to her praise you felt another harsh smack to your ass that had you crying out into the gag. You even tried to speak into the gag to beg her to touch you, but your pleading was inaudible, something Natasha evidently found amusing.

She spanked you more until you completly lost count due to only being able to think about the intense stinging feeling across your skin, imagining just how red your skin was and knowing Natasha would apply some cream to that when she was done.

Tears streamed down your face and you whimpered from every little thing you felt. The sensitivity of your skin was making you crazy and completly at your girlfriend's control.

You breathed heavily as you rested your head against the bed sheets and was vaguely aware of Natasha's fingers running across your broken skin. The somewhat soothing gesture didn't last long as her fingers soon dropped down to your soaking core.

"You're so wet, y/n." She husked as her fingers glided over your folds, gathering your juices on her fingers.

You whimpered in response to her words and only wished you could move yourself back onto her fingers.

As if she could hear your thoughts, Natasha slipped a single finger into your folds and pushed it entirely inside you. You moaned softly at the single digit, instantly craving more.

"I'm barely touching you are you're already so responsive." She mocked and moved the single finger in at an agonizingly slow pace, you groaned in protest but your girlfriend only snickered in response to your whining.

She kept this up for a couple minutes and just as you were about to huff out in frustration you felt her withdraw and pump 3 fingers into you at a sudden, overwhelming rate.

You moaned and gasped out into the gag as you felt her fingers fuck you at a rough and hard pace.

You so desperetly wanted to ride her fingers but could only strain your thigh muscles against the ropes. You kept your head firmly against the sheets and hands enclosed in tight fists as though you were protecting something sacred in the palm of your hand.

You could feel the heat rising throughout your body and the pleasure building as Natasha mercilessly thrusted her fingers into your soaked pussy that clenched around her perfectly.

Just as you thought you were about to experience an earth shattereing orgasm, Natasha's fingers abruptly pulled out.

You whimpered and whined into the gag in protest and could hear your girlfriend chuckle at your struggles and pathetic attempt to prolong the pleasure.

You could hear her suck on her fingers as the weight shifted on the bed until Natasha was gone, leaving only the sound of her moving.

Once she was back on the bed she leant over to whisper into your ear while you felt the familiar silicone brush your folds.

"I'll say this once: cum without permission and you will be punished." As she said those words you felt a cool piece of metal glide across your skin. Under the blindfold your eyes widened as I realised what Natasha was holding.

The knife, sharpened to perfection, pressed threateningly against your vulnerable skin. You could guess it was about a six inch blade and imagined it glistening in the light in an angelic manner.

Your core throbbed at the thought of it, yearning to feel it press against you to the point where it tears at your fragile skin.

Natasha placed the strap in line with your entrance and pushed the tip forward for your pussy lips to envelope.

As you clenched around the small amount inside you, you were caught off guard by Natasha pushing the rest of it inside you in one hard thrust.

You cried out into the gag, not being able to adjust to the size before your girlfriend pulled out and slammed the toy back into you. You moaned loudly at the ache the strap caused and dug your nails into the palms of your hands.

Natasha continued to pound the strap into your pussy as you moaned and whimpered in time with her deep, hard strokes.

While one hand held the knife against your stomach, the other grabbed a fist full of your hair and yanked it so your head was thrown back.

All of this combined with Natasha mercillessly slamming the strap on into you over and over made your pussy start to clench around the toy.

You tried to communicate with her that you were about to cum, but of course she didn't care.

Your whole body tensed up and your breathing became increasingly ragged until you clenched around the toy again and came hard on it. You moaned and gasped out into the gag, almost forgetting about the knife pressed against you.

You were reminded of it when you felt a sudden, fast jolt from the knife that slashed across you. You cried out and felt your arousal grow again despite the now slow pace of Natasha moving the strap.

Your stomach felt as though it had been burnt and the red hot sting continued to stay. Natasha dropped her hand that was holding your hair and swipped her finger across the cut and hummed in delight.

You kept your fists tightly closed and wondered if you had drawn blood yourself from how deep your nails were into your own flesh.

"You're doing so good for me." Natasha whispered softly into your ear and started to pick up the pace again.

This time, you were already adjusted to the size of the strap and took it without the feeling of it stretching you slightly.

Natasha's hips moved at a faster rate and every time she filled you up completelt you felt her press against your ass. The knife remained firmly in her hand and on a new area of your stomach, ready to strike the unmarked skin.

Your body trembled from the stimulation to your pussy that made you shake slightly in support of the ropes still binding you down.

You moaned into the gag again as you felt the familiar tug in your lower stomach come back.

You could feel Natasha's grip on the knife tighten as your legs tensed up again and your back arched as much as it could as you came a second time, even more exhausted than the last.

With the orgasm came another cut across your skin, longer and deeper this time. You whimpered into the gag, wishing you could see the marks your girlfriend had made.

Natasha didn't halter her rhythm this time and seemed to instead take her fucking with a new vigour. This time when she thrust the strap on into you you could feel your cum soaking the strap as it pumped into your equally wet pussy, the combination of which was extremely audible and made you gush with wetness even more.

"You wanna cum again, huh? I can hear how wet and desperate you are for me, whore." You moaned in response as your whole body shuddered again, your increasing sensitivity making you all the more vulnerable.

When you came for the third time and felt the sharp blade slice once more, you were so out of breath you needed the gag removed to help you breathe. You opened your hand and felt Natasha instantly stop her movements and pulled out.

"It's okay, you did so good for me." She cooed as she removed your blindfold and gag.

"I'm okay..." You huffed, trying to catch your breath. "I can do...one more." You gasped and felt Natasha untie all the ropes.

"One more? Hmm okay." She flipped you gently onto your back and positioned herself between your legs.

You gazed down in awe at the three cuts across your stomach. They weren't serious and you doubted they would need stitches, yet the bright red blood slowly escaping from the wounds, one of which even trickling down yourside, lit your core on fire.

Your girlfriend grinned knowingly at you as she flicked her tongue against your swollen clit. You gasped out at the sensitivity and rested your head back against the pillow and clossed your eyes in bliss.

Natasha's tongue swiped around your folds, collecting the cum that had spilled out a little prior, befor plunging her tongue inside you.

You moaned out from the sensitivity and gripped her hair for support, encouraging her to tongue fuck you faster.

Her tongue swiped around inside of you perfectly, as though it was the last time she would taste you and wanted to memorize every inch of your core.

The overstimulation meant it didn't take long for your walls to clench around her tongue, pushing it out and leading Natasha to sucking on your clit in response.

"Tasha!" You gasped out as you came hard on your girlfriend's tongue. She licked up every single drop of your cum before leaning up to kiss you.

You kissed her back and tasted yourself on her lips, smiling to yourself at that fact. She pulled back and fell down beside you, looking at you lovingly.

"That was..." She trailed off, unable to find the words.

"Wow-factor." You grinned.

📖📖 with Nat?

Honey Pots and Feathers.

Child!Natasha Romanoff & Pooh Bear!Reader (I can't believe I wrote this either)

Word Count: 1.2K

A/N: I chose Winnie the Pooh AU. The headcanon is that Natasha watches a Winnie the Pooh Cartoon as part of her Red Room conditioning and The Hundred Acre Woods becomes her safe place.

This is either ridiculous or it's lowkey angst, who knows. References to Red Room abuse.

Days were hard to remember sometimes. Pooh liked to think that the days when he ate the most honey were the Very Best of Days. Piglet disagreed, he said that the days when he found fresh acorns were always the Very Best of Days. He said it was nice to have one less worry.

Pooh politely told Piglet that when he found fresh honey he would eat it that very day.

That night, Pooh found he couldn’t sleep. He felt sorry for Piglet. Pooh decided he wouldn’t be in a hurry to eat acorns either. He planned to suggest a new rissupay to Piglet.

Natasha had told them all about rissupays the last time she had visited. Natasha had been hungry and her stomach had rumbled. Piglet had offered her an acorn, but she declined. Natasha told them that she didn’t know any rissupays for acorns.

Pooh asked about rissupays because his tummy was always growling and he liked the idea of turning acorns into something nicer. Like honey, perhaps.

Natasha had led them along the path to Eeyore’s as she explained about rissupays. She said it was like magic. Add a little bit of thisandthat and suddenly food became much nicer. Pooh didn’t know where one could find thisandthat, but he had started keeping an eye out just in case.

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

The next morning, Pooh decided he would indulge in a little honey for his breakfast. He got his paws quite sticky, but he didn’t let it phase him. Tigger bounced in just as the jar of honey was getting much lighter.

“The news is that Natasha will be coming to see us soon.” Tigger told Pooh with an extra bounce.

‘Oh, that’s wonderful news.” Pooh patted his tummy with delight. Everyone loved Natasha. She was clever and funny and often said the nicest things.

Tigger bounced away just when Piglet arrived.

‘Good morning Pooh.’ Piglet said. ‘Did you hear the good news?’

Pooh informed Piglet that he had. Piglet told Pooh that he was going to give Natasha a gift when she got here. Natasha didn’t have as many things as other children. She told them that she didn’t mind though. Natasha was happy to have such good friends.

Pooh liked that he was one of her friends. He decided Piglet had had a Very Good Idea. He decided that he would give Natasha a jar of honey.

Pooh thought that honey might be very important for Natasha’s rissupays.

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

That afternoon, after a spot of lunchtime honey, Pooh and Piglet wandered along the path to Rabbit’s House.

When they got there, Natasha was already sitting on her tree stump. There was an assortment of gifts at her feet.

When she saw Pooh, Natasha waved. Pooh waved back. His paw got stuck to his fur and he realised that he hadn’t Cleaned Up Properly after lunch. But, that was okay because Natasha wouldn’t mind.

Natasha was sitting with Kanga and Roo. Natasha had a bruise on her face and Kanga was telling her about how brave she was.

Pooh and Piglet sat next to Natasha on the tree stump. Pooh listened respectfully and patiently because being brave was very important.

Natasha gave Pooh and Piglet one of her Big Bright Smiles. She showed them the feather that was resting behind her ear. Natasha’s hair was red and she liked to keep it braided. Sometimes, when she could visit for a little while, Natasha would braid Eeyore’s hair too.

Eeyore didn’t usually like anything, but he liked Natasha's braids. Natasha was very talented and smart. That was why she was sometimes too busy to visit.

Piglet gave her his special present. He’d made her an acorn necklace. Natasha said it was the prettiest joolery that she had ever been allowed to wear.

Pooh stayed quiet. He was thinking now that he had brought quite a big jar of honey. He wondered if so much honey might actually make Natasha feel ill.

Tigger bounced into the clearing then. Rabbit rolled his eyes. Tigger told them all that he’d thought of a song on his travels. Natasha was very excited to hear it.

So was Pooh, although he wasn’t very good at remembering songs. Neither was Tigger unfortunately. All he could remember was that it had been about Natasha and the scary Heffalumps.

Natasha had been very brave the last time she had visited. Pooh had told her about the scary Heffalumps that lived in the darkest part of the forest. Natasha had found a sharp stick and walked into the forest all by herself.

She told them that Heffalumps were not as scary as the Big Bad Man. Piglet had started trembling. He’d asked if they also lived in the darkest part of the forest.

Natasha said that the Big Bad Man was only scary for her. That was when Piglet had offered her some of his acorns.

Pooh remembered this and he asked Natasha about the Big Bad Man. He asked if she’d tried a sharp stick.

Natasha started to cry and Pooh felt very sad. Natasha said that it felt a little bit good to cry because it wasn’t something she normally got to do. She told them the Big Bad Man was still there and that she was still scared of him. The Hundred Acre Woods became very silent all of a sudden.

Natasha said that there were other Big Bad Adults too. Kanga held Natasha’s hand when she talked about it and that made Natasha cry again. Pooh tried not to feel too sad because he knew that Natasha wanted to cry a little bit.

Natasha said that the Big Bad Adults wanted every day to be a Very Good Day. But, sometimes, that was very hard for Natasha to do.

Piglet asked if she had to find acorns for them.

Natasha shook her head. She said she had lots of Rissponzebillytees. No one knew what that word meant, except Owl.

Owl said that it meant that Natasha had little problems that she carried around in her pocket. Natasha said that was close enough.

Natasha said that it was hard because sometimes when she didn’t have a Very Good Day, she had to have a Very Bad Day.

Pooh asked worriedly if Very Bad Days meant hardly any honey.

Natasha looked even sadder then, and Pooh thought she looked like Eeyore when he’d had his surprise party. She said that Very Bad Days meant no food at all.

Suddenly, Pooh felt very sorry for keeping his present to himself.

He gave the big jar of honey to Natasha. Natasha gave him a big hug in return. She told him that he was the Best Bear in the Whole World.

Pooh didn’t know how big the Whole World was, but he knew it was much bigger than the Hundred Acre Woods.

Pooh told Natasha that she was very brave. He told her that every day he got to spend with Natasha was one of his Very Best Days.

Natasha told them all that she was very happy to have them as friends. She gave Kanga a special smile because Kanga had made her feel brave again.

She opened the jar of honey and tried a little piece.

Pooh asked if she thought it was the best honey. He was quite sure that it was. For the first time ever, Pooh didn’t wish that he was having a morsel of it too.

Natasha shook her head after a moment.

‘No.’ She told them sadly. ‘Pretend food doesn't taste the same.’

Headcanon Asks

Tagging:

@lostandsearching​ @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo@xxromanoffxx​ @b-5by5​  @peggycarter-steverogers​ @iblameitonclint​  @natasha-danvers​ @reminiscingtonight​ @magicallymaximoff​ @mindofwesley​ @blackxwidowsxwife @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday​ @marvels-writings @wandaromanova​ @wandavixen​ @peabrain112​ @theperfectlovestory​ @wellsayhelloaagin​ @owloftheshadows @ahn-dee​ @wickedmuses​ @rhagana-doomslayer​​ @strangegardentaco @hallecarey1

A Case of You

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: A soft angst kinda one shot. Reader used to date Natasha and gets a call from her during the night. Mentions alcohol and toxic past relationships.

She called you in the night. You answered. You always answered, but it felt dirty. 

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Detour

Summary: A trip to the beach seemed like the perfect way to spend the day off with your girlfriend.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: swearing, fingering, car sex

A/N: Um, so I have two angst fics that I half wrote this week but instead of finishing those I wrote this today. Thanks brain.

The wind whipped through your hair as the car sped along the road, windows down and the hot summer air filling your lungs. The radio was on, the sounds of a pop song cutting through the roar of the wind as you nodded your head absentmindedly to the beat.

You cast your eyes out the open window, watching the landscape rush past you, the green and blue blurring together as the engine hums underneath you. You can smell the salt in the air, the seaside scent comforting as you close your eyes and breathe deeply.

“Whatcha thinking about, baby?” you open your eyes at the sound of Natasha’s voice, smiling as you look over at her.

She’s sitting in the driver’s seat, gripping the wheel in one hand while the other rests between your own. The corner of her mouth has lifted into a smile as she quickly glances over at you, her green eyes twinkling in the sunlight streaming into the car. She’s breathtaking and you fight the urge to pinch yourself, once again finding it hard to believe that this goddess of a woman was yours.

“Nothing,” you reply as her eyes shift back to the road in front of you, “just enjoying this moment.”

She hums in response, slowing down as you approach a set of traffic lights. Her hand leaves yours momentarily as she prepares to turn the corner and you can’t help but pout at the loss. As the car rolls to a stop at the red light she looks over at you again, warmth blooming in your chest at the tender look in her eyes.

“I love you.” The simple sentence has your heart racing, the sincerity in her tone never failing to surprise you, despite hearing the words fall from her lips hundreds of times before.

“I love you too,” you lean over pressing a quick kiss to her lips just as the light changes colour and she turns the car onto the coastal highway.

The two of you had decided to take a trip to the beach today, taking advantage of the good weather and a rare day off. You had loaded enough picnic food to feed a small army into the back of the car and set out before the rest of the team had woken up, wanting a day for just the two of you.

You love how relaxed the day felt already, the casual way Natasha leaned in her seat as she drove, the tension absent from her shoulders for once. Today you weren’t two Avengers who were responsible for saving the world. Today you were just two girls in love who were responsible for no one except each other.

You look back out the window, watching as the ocean comes into view. The waves are calm, sunlight bouncing off the water making it look like it was filled with shimmering diamonds. The gentle sway of the car as it moves with the winding road is comforting and at this moment you feel happy and content.

You feel Natasha’s hand rest on your knee, something she often did while she drove. You smile to yourself, still watching the horizon as you sigh contentedly. Natasha’s thumb begins to stroke absentmindedly on your skin, the action causing your stomach to clench slightly.

You stay that way for a few minutes, the car comfortably silent except for the soft sounds of the radio playing. You close your eyes once more, the sun warming your face and the movement of the car beginning to put you to sleep.

When Natasha shifts her hand, her fingers marginally inching up your bare thigh, your eyes snap open. You turn to face her, breathing picking up slightly but her expression is impassive. She’s giving nothing away and you’re sure that she doesn’t even realise the effect her simple action is having on you.

You feel the arousal pooling between your legs and you shift lightly in your seat, trying not to give it away. You didn’t want to face the teasing from your girlfriend when she realised how easy she could turn you on.

Her hand stalls about halfway up your thigh, fingers flexing tightly against the muscle as she guides the car around a bend in the road. Her fingers are spread over your thigh, the tips brushing against the sensitive skin on your inner thigh which only makes your situation worse.

As the road straightens out again, Natasha’s hand begins to climb once more. You know she must be aware of what she’s doing now, her hand moving with more purpose as it nears the apex of your thighs. You catch the smirk on her face as she stares ahead, her grip on the steering wheel tightening ever so slightly.

“Tease,” you mutter under your breath and her smile only widens, her eyes flicking to you briefly.

“I’m only a tease if I don’t follow through,” she promises, her fingers tracing soft patterns on the inside of your thigh causing you to squirm in your seat.

She reaches the hem of your dress, dragging it up your legs as her fingers climb higher. You shift, moving your knees further apart as she finally reaches where you want her most. Her fingers press against you through your panties, causing you to gasp out loud at the contact. You know she can feel how wet you are already, the material damp from your arousal.

“Soaked for me already,” Natasha grins proudly, finger hooking into the elastic of your underwear and snapping it against your skin.

“Off,” she commands as you jump from the sting of the material springing back against your skin.

You don’t need to be told twice, lifting your hips to drag them down your legs and kicking them off quickly. Once they’ve been removed completely you sit back in the seat, opening your legs as wide as the space allows to give Natasha unobstructed access to your heated flesh.

She wastes no time, fingers dancing back up your thigh and running through your slick folds. You fumble for something to grab onto as her finger circles your clit slowly, one of your hands clutching the door desperately. The other finds it’s way to Natashas leg, fingers digging into the flesh as she begins a torturous pace with her finger.

She grunts at the unexpected contact, the sound shooting straight to your core and making your thighs tense. Her fingers begin to dip lower now and you whimper at the loss of friction on your clit, sinking into your seat further as you throw your head back against the headrest.

“Shhh,” Natasha coos, “I’ve got you.”

You whimper again at her words but it quickly turns to a moan as she slides one finger past your entrance, sinking deep into you until her knuckles are brushing your skin. You shift your hips, trying to draw her even deeper as she pulls back before thrusting into you again.

“Oh fuck, Nat,” you cry out, eyes clenching shut as you draw in a shuddering breath. “Please don’t stop.”

“Oh, I’m not stopping until I make you cum over my fingers,” her voice is low and sultry as her finger continues to slide in and out of you, curling and hitting the right places.

Her words only make you needy with want, wishing for nothing more than her promise to come true.

“More,” you gasp, hips moving against her hand as she fucks you slowly.

On her next thrust, she adds a second finger, the stretch making you cry out her name loudly. She sets an even pace, eyes still focused on the road as if she wasn’t dragging you towards your orgasm quickly.

You’re thankful the road is mostly empty, an occasional car speeding past you as you try and keep your voice quiet, not wanting to alert anyone through the open window to the way your girlfriend had her hand buried between your legs.

“I’m c-close,” you gasp out as you grind against her, the heel of her hand rubbing against your clit, “Nat, I-I’m going to-”

Your sentence is cut off by a loud moan as she curls her fingers again, the feeling pulling you even closer to the edge. You know you won’t last much longer, the pleasure becoming almost too much.

“Fuck, baby,” you hear Natasha groan, “I want to watch you so bad.”

You don’t answer her, you’re not sure you can if you even tried. Instead, you moan loudly again, hips working frantically against her hand as you chase your release. You feel it building, your walls clamping down on her fingers tightly as you feel yourself reaching the peak. Just a few more seconds and-

Suddenly, Natashas fingers are gone, making you whine at the loss. Your hips are still moving, seeking the friction you had moments before as your orgasm quickly fades. Your eyes snap open, noticing that you had turned off the main road.

Your breathing is erratic but it’s nothing compared to Natasha’s, her chest heaving as she manoeuvres the car down an unmarked dirt road, pulling over behind the cover of trees once you’ve driven a few hundred yards away from the road.

“Nat, what-” you try to ask but she’s already thrown the car into park, looking over at you with a feral look in her eyes that has your question dying in your throat.

She leans over you, hand diving back between your legs as she thrusts three fingers inside you, her free hand gripping your chin as she forces you to meet her hungry gaze.

“I needed to watch you fall apart,” she growls, resting her forehead against yours. “I needed to see the look on your face as you cum around my fingers.”

Your orgasm is building again, racing up as she pumps her fingers into you quickly, thumb reaching up to flick over your clit firmly. You close your eyes, gasping for breath as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“Open your eyes, I want to see you,” she commands before her voice softens, “can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

You nod against her, eyes fluttering open. Her green eyes still look hungry as she watches you but there is a tenderness there as well. You know you won’t last much longer as you pant against her lips.

“Please,” you whisper, not even sure what you’re asking for.

Natasha knows though, she always does. On her next thrust, she twists her wrist slightly, fingers grazing along the spot inside you that has you falling apart around her. You grip her shoulder tightly as you fight to keep your eyes open, riding out your release in the quiet car.

“That’s it,” Natasha murmurs as she guides you through your orgasm, the aftershocks ripping through you as her fingers begin to slow.

Finally, once the waves of pleasure subside, Natasha presses a gentle kiss against your lips as she withdraws her fingers. You watched through heavy eyes as she brings her fingers to her mouth, her tongue darting out to clear the arousal that coated them.

“Holy shit,” you gasp as you try to catch your breath while Natasha pulls your dress down to cover your legs again, “that was a nice surprise detour.”

“Oh no,” Natasha replies as she shifts the car into drive, moving back toward the main road. “I’ve been thinking about that all morning. Why do you think I told you to wear a dress?”

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@blooodwords This is amazing! I really love the natural push and pull of their relationship and don't apologise for the plot it is so interesting!! I'm super excited for the next chapters (no rush💕) I am curious as to why Natasha doesn't touch the reader sexually though? Is it a personal preference or something else? Either way, best of luck with future writing endeavours!🥰

part 2 to gun smut?

i need to know why r is so fucky in the head 😭

a/n: yeah ok let's fuckin go. sorry to disappoint but this one does not actually include gunplay. and it's sorta plot heavy — i got a lil carried away. also please excuse any mistakes as it is long past my bedtime.

home of blood and bone.

RATING: E FOR EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT (18+ ... MINORS DNI).

PART ONE ... PART TWO.

natasha x fem!reader ; natasha pries her way into your past, into your biology, and into your future. and you let her.

warnings: nsfw, semi-explicit violence, explicit smut, knifeplay, lil bit of blood.

i do take requests but please give this a read before doing so!

a“How was the psych eval?”

Natasha Romanoff lingers in your doorway with a mug of coffee and a scowl.

“Thorough,” you tell her without looking up from your workbench. You’ve been toying with the grappling hook launch controls on your utility belt for the better part of an hour.

“Big man says you were difficult.”

You were not.

You’d make that clear if you cared, but you don’t. And if Tony Stark cared about your difficulties he’d pull you from the roster. Fact that you’ve got a seven am mission briefing the next day tells you everything you need to know.

A noncommittal noise falls from your lips to fill the silence.

Natasha steps into the room. The door clicks shut behind her. “Were you actually difficult?” Her tone softens. You don’t like that. “Or was it your charming brevity? I know talking’s not your favorite thing.”

In that moment you don’t like that she knows you and you really don't like that there isn’t a way to tell her as much without sounding like a grade-a asshole. Not that she would mind—you really doubt she would—but you’re still stuck on that pesky wanting to please her thing. It’s been seventy-two hours since the day in the jet and you still haven’t figured out a way to force her from your mind. And to think you used to be so good at pushing people away.

“Dunno, Nat,” you mumble, huffing. You push a torx driver a little too hard into a screw and the panel it secures sprouts a hairline crack. “Motherf—what more do you people want from me? I answered their questions.”

Natasha drops a tablet onto the workbench and taps the screen.

Security cam footage.

You grit your teeth and wish Natasha wasn’t over your shoulder, watching you watch this.

Conference room four.

An unremarkable woman in a pencil skirt sits across from you with a legal pad and a pen.

You’re stone-faced and still, hands clasped in your lap, looking right at her.

“Do you experience compulsive thoughts relating to the incident that took the lives of your parents?”

“No.”

“Do you suffer from nightmares about the incident that took the lives of your parents?”

“No.”

“Do you experience flashbacks to the incident? By this I mean—”

“I know what you mean. And no.”

“If something happens that reminds you of the incident, does it trigger an intense emotional response?”

Yes. Sometimes. But you’re careful not to show it.

“No.”

“Do you actively avoid things that remind you of the incident?”

“No.”

True. You tend to seek them out.

“Have you experienced generalized anxiety since the incident?”

“No.”

True enough.

“Trouble sleeping?”

“No.”

That one, at the very least, is only half a lie.

“Do you startle easily?”

“No.”

True.

“Do you feel that the—”

“Say the word incident one more time and I’m gonna flip my fucking lid. I don’t have PTSD.”

“What does that mean, ‘flip your lid?’”

“Get violent. I don’t know.”

“Are you stating that you intend to inflict violence upon me if I continue administering this evaluation?”

“No. I don’t—don’t hurt people who don’t deserve it.”

“Who does deserve it?”

Bullshit question.

She’s leading you.

It’s fine.

“Nobody at present,” you tell her.

“Who deserved it in the past?”

You shift in your seat, crossing your arms, trapping your hands between your elbows and ribs.

They already know. This lady, Tony, all of them. You don’t think there’s a single person on the compound who hasn’t read your file.

“Family.”

“Whose family?”

“Mine.”

“When you speak of your family do you include yourself?”

There it is.

You smile, mocking and sweet, and, “Obviously,” you say.

The video stops.

Natasha spins you around in your chair and clamps her hands on your shoulders. She’s the first person to touch your skin, your actual body, no barriers, since the day on the jet. All at once you wish you were wearing more than a tank top and wish she’d never stop touching you.

“By that logic,” she says, “your own logic, you deserve to be dead.”

“By the logic of all the world, actually,” you say, “yes. I should’ve been dead the day my family was. Don’t think it takes a professional to figure that out.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use so many words at once.”

You roll your eyes.

“Look at me,” Natasha says next, and doesn’t speak again until you do. “I know you’re fucked up—so am I. It sort of comes with being one of us. And—”

“Your point?”

“Don’t be a jackass,” she says, laying a firm pat on your cheek that feels more like a slap than you were expecting. “I’m trying to tell you that the deaths of your parents are in the past. It’s done. But the idea that you’re walking around wishing you were dead, too? Not okay.”

“Right.”

“We need you.”

“That so?”

It’s true enough.

Tony wouldn’t have recruited you if you weren’t valuable, if you couldn’t do things nobody else could. You’re so ingrained in the operations of the Avengers that at this point, yeah, they probably do need you. Teams are reliant on their members, and whether you like it or not the Avengers are the only people who haven’t kicked you to the curb the moment they found out what exactly is in your past.

It isn’t until Natasha says, “Listen to me. It wasn’t your fault, and you shouldn’t torture yourself over it,” that you realize how wrong you are.

Your eyes narrow.

In less than a millisecond you make a weighted decision.

Your hands knock hers from your shoulders. You need space between the two of you if you’re going to let this conversation unfold. You don’t want her that close when you confide, you don’t think you could handle watching her recoil.

“What do you know about the deaths of my parents?”

Natasha furrows her brow, says, “They were shot point-blank by a HYDRA rogue after refusing to turn over their research on genetic engineering.”

You don’t know why you want to tell her.

You know it’ll ruin everything.

But if Natasha doesn't know, who else is in the dark?

You don’t want to spend your time around a team that doesn’t even know the fundamentals of your history. You want them to know exactly what you are, and if after that they still want you to stay? You will.

“I was never a rogue,” you tell her, gritting your teeth, “and I was never HYDRA.”

Natasha steps back. “You—?”

“And they didn’t refuse to turn over anything.” Your voice is thickening, getting rough around the edges. “I didn’t even ask for it, I’d already seen it all.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

It isn’t pity that she’s looking at you with but you can’t place whatever it is and that alone makes you want to put your head through a wall.

“I’m saying that I was an experiment. Bred in a lab to be the perfect, indestructible child. You had the Red Room, I had the house I grew up in.”

“But” — she’s pacing, never getting any closer to you than where she started — “you aren’t indestructible. I know you aren’t.”

“They made a mistake in my genetic code. I can bleed if I want to, I can feel pain under the right circumstances, but I’m not sure that I can die. And—”

It clicks so plainly on her face.

“You want to find out,” Natasha finishes for you. She comes to a stop, studying you from across the room, and you can see her putting the pieces together like you’re right there in her mind. “You didn’t kill your parents. You killed your captors.”

“You killed Dreykov.”

“…Touché.”

/

“You altered my file. Why?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to walk in here as the mommy and daddy killer. Was I wrong?”

He wasn’t.

Mostly.

But.

“I thought everyone knew.”

“I know,” Tony says, and to his credit he does manage to look apologetic. “And you thought they accepted you anyway. Which they do, still, by the way. Now that they actually know.”

No matter how deep you dig you can’t find it in yourself to be upset with him. He only did what believed was best. For you and for the team. You know more than most what a decision of that caliber feels like.

“Right,” is all you say.

You turn to go.

“You’re taking Romanoff with you,” Tony says before you make it out the door, “on the Evora job. And on all jobs from here on out.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Stark.”

“Maybe not,” he says, “but good luck telling her that.”

/

Natasha’s behavior around you hasn’t changed.

You don’t know whether that’s because things are genuinely the same or because she wants you to think things are the same.

It’s hard to gauge whether it actually matters one way or the other.

“Guy calls himself Elemento.”

“Gross.”

“Yup,” Natasha says, “but he can bend the elements to his will.”

Your behavior around Natasha has changed, if only a little. You’re talking more. Mostly to fill the silences she leaves hanging in the air, the spats of quiet that make your head hurt.

“Bullets and martial arts won’t do much against that,” you say. “Offense a little intended.”

“Ouch.” She’s grinning. “You can’t be bent, however. I’m just backup.”

She’s right.

As usual.

You’re an experiment the elements can no longer touch. You put your ability to be altered to bed the day you shot your parents.

Elemento can’t bend you.

And he doesn’t.

His gift only works when he’s breathing.

You putting your hand through the skin of his throat and tearing out his windpipe takes care of that. The bullet between his eyes takes care of the rest.

Spilling Elemento’s blood across the white tile floor of his laboratory is the closest you’ve ever come to creating fine art. When it splashes across the front of your battle suit and freckles you in red you reckon it’s the most color you’ve worn since childhood.

Before his body hits the floor you’ve pulled his hard drive and crashed out through the nearest window.

It isn’t until you’ve got an arm around a rung of the rope ladder dangling from Natasha’s chopper that you realize you’re still holding onto the flesh you pulled from his neck.

You wait to ask your questions until Elemento and his ruined lab in Evora are six hours behind you and you’re mostly cleaned up, until Natasha’s found an itty-bitty hotel room to camp out in for the night.

“Why does Stark give me the messy assignments?”

“He trusts you,” Natasha says without looking up from a dime-store paperback she swiped from the front desk. “And you have considerably fewer morals about leaving loose ends.”

So that’s it.

“Right.”

You don’t say much for the rest of the day.

You just sit on the floor at the foot of the bed and think. Mostly about the fact that okay, yeah, you don’t think too much when it comes to killing the people Tony wants you to kill, and a little about the fact that Natasha doesn’t seem to mind the carnage. Whatever red she had in her ledger doesn’t keep her from letting you have your fun.

Funny word for what you do for the Avengers, that one. Fun.

You weren’t allowed much fun as a kid. Hell, you can barely call your upbringing a childhood.

Most of what you remember is being pricked for blood, being rolled under x-ray machines, withstanding test after test until your parents were satisfied with their creation. You remember asking to celebrate holidays, birthdays—anything—and being told no. You remember watching the neighborhood kids board the school bus every morning from your bedroom window and hating that you weren’t allowed to go to regular school with them. Most of those memories are laced with hate.

Makes sense that murder constitutes fun these days.

“Hey.”

You pull yourself out of your thoughts.

The window’s gone dark.

Natasha has the bedside lamp on, casting a dim yellow glow across the little room, and she’s right there with you, dangling her head off the end of the bed and peering at you with affectionate amusement.

“You’ve been in your head for hours,” she tells you. “It’s four am.”

“Oh.”

“Come to bed.”

You look down at your clothes: gray tactical pants splattered with blood, boots caked in dust and dirt, sweat-stained tank top clinging to your chest. Off in the corner your battle jacket lies crumpled in a heap.

“I should shower.”

You wait until the water’s scalding before stepping in.

When you get out your skin’s red and warm and in the foggy mirror you notice a gash along the length of your forearm. It doesn’t need stitches but you figure Natasha’s going to say something about it anyhow.

She does.

“That hurt?”

“No.”

“Did you clean it?”

“Are you always such a mom?”

“My sister would say yes.”

You dress in a spare tee and a pair of sweats with the gaudy Avengers logo on the hip.

There’s only one bed.

You crawl in and lay still on your back.

Natasha props herself up on an elbow and studies you.

“You said you can bleed when you want to, and feel pain under the right circumstances. What does that mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like it means.”

“Elaborate,” she says.

“Later.”

“Fine.”

She kills the lamp.

It takes her ten minutes to decide to slip a hand over your bicep and squeeze. Another five to tuck her leg up over your hip. When you don’t move she finds your hand and pulls it to her thigh, and, “Just—there,” she mumbles against your ear. You squeeze, she hums.

Eventually, you don’t know how long—you lost track of the minutes as soon as she invited you to touch her—Natasha’s lips find your skin. She leaves soft kisses along your jaw, slow and steady, until she finds your lips and licks into your mouth with a gentle curiosity that distracts you enough not to notice the hand slipping under your shirt until Natasaha’s nails bite into your skin.

For a moment you want to ask what this is, what the time on the jet was. You push the thought away as Natasha swings a leg over your hips, mounts you, and leans over to flick the lamp on.

“I want to try something,” she says, peeling your shirt off, grazing her fingertips over your sternum and down your stomach. Then she pulls a knife on you, a little folding one that snaps open with a satisfying click. The sound itself is enough to light a fire deep in your core.

You don’t nod. You don’t speak. You just smile, dreamy and expectant, because while it isn’t a loaded gun it does still excite you.

Natasha sets the blade at the base of your throat, and, “I want you to bleed,” she says, brows raising. “Can you do that for me?”

You can. Even though you can hear your heart thudding in your ears and you can feel the scorching tingle of arousal as it shoots down your spine, you can do it.

The knife follows the path her fingers took only moments ago: over your chest, between your breasts, along the divot between the muscles of your stomach. In its path little droplets of blood sprout before your eyes, painting you red for the second time that day. Natasha wipes the blade on the sheets and drags her fingers over the thin wound, smearing blood across your skin.

A moment passes in silence, you watching Natasha while she inspects the slice she put into you. In that moment your heart picks up, thundering against your ribcage, and you know she can feel it just as easily as she can see the heavy rise and fall of your chest.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Rhetorical—she’s smirking. “No blood this time. I don’t even want to break your skin.”

You have to think about it for a moment, tunnel way back into the corners of your mind to find the switch that kills your pain receptors and fortifies the density of your skin, but you can do it. You’d only practiced finding and hitting that switch under the clinical observation of your parents a thousand times as a child. It used to take you hours—this time it takes only seconds.

When the blade slides over your skin this time, nothing happens. Not even a scratch.

“Like a butter knife against marble,” Natasha mumbles.

You can’t tell if she’s studying you as a whole or just the cut and the would-be one. At least she hasn’t said anything about the fact that you’ve fought by her side time and again and not once has she ever seen you refuse a wound. Surely it means something, to her or whichever psychologist Tony has on retainer this month, that you choose to let yourself get hurt when things come to blows, but you think it’s hardly the time to dwell on that.

The knife clatters onto the bedside table.

“Sorry,” she mutters, pressing her palm against your abdomen, grazing her nails over the firm muscles she finds there. “Although I’m absolutely certain you don’t need an apology. Still—not every day I hurt one of my own on purpose.”

“One of your own, huh?”

She rolls her eyes.

“I wouldn’t be here to keep an eye on you if I didn’t care.”

“You sure it isn’t just so you can get into my pants again?”

“All I have to do is smile at you to accomplish that.”

“Touché.”

Natasha smiles.

You prop yourself up on your elbows to meet her halfway as she ducks down to kiss you. The taste of her tongue is second only to the taste of her cunt, and you consider yourself lucky to know the taste of both.

Doesn’t take much more than a heavy hand of yours slipping down between her legs and cupping her through her little sleep shorts to convince Natasha to let you have her. You get her out of her bottoms and push your fingers through slick lips, pushing her wetness around with your fingertips before sinking into her in one fluid motion.

You almost ask her if it’s good, if it’s enough, but her eyes rolling skyward, her fingertips pressing into your skin, and her back arching as she rolls her hips against your hand tell you all you need to know. She’s warm and wet and tight around your fingers as you stroke her from the inside, practically coaxing her wetness out of her cunt and into the palm of your hand.

“Good?” You ask anyway because even with the pleasure written on her face you still value a verbal confirmation.

“Good,” Natasha says, nodding.

Before you can say anything else she slips an arm around your neck and rolls onto her back, pulling you right down on top of her with your hips nestled between her thighs and your hand trapped between your bodies.

“Better,” she says, smirking up at you. “Fuck me like this—like you mean it.”

“Easy,” you tell her, because it is, because you really do mean it.

You thrust your fingers into Natasha’s warm cunt while she mouths at your throat, sinking her teeth into the soft spot where she finds your pulse, sucking a bruise into your skin that you know will linger for days, and you don’t think you’ve ever been so eager to wear a mark before. And you’re still bleeding, smudges of blood on your chest staining Natasha’s shirt from where she presses up against you, but you don’t care, and you don’t think she does either.

Notching your hips against the back of your hand and using the steady grind to fuck your fingers into her helps, makes it feel a little like what you’d guess a biological male might feel in this situation, holding yourself above Natasha with an arm that’s starting to cramp while you push into her. You’d watch if you could, you reckon the sight of your fingers disappearing into her clenching hole is a mighty fine one, but she’s palming at your breasts, teasing your nipples, and her arms are in the way. You settle for slipping a third finger into her cunt, stretching her open, grunting happily as she keens into your ear and gushes around your fingers.

“I wish I had your stamina,” she mutters through a yawn, pushing her hands through your hair as you crawl down her body, settling on your belly between her legs. “You aren’t going to let me sleep yet, are you?”

You give your answer by burying your face in her cunt, licking through her lips, grazing your teeth over her sensitive clit, and drinking her in. She tastes better than you remember: heady and intense and entirely Natasha. You hum against her, prop one of her legs over your shoulder, and coast your hands along her thighs. She’s warm to the touch and warm against your tongue and if it weren’t nearing five o’clock in the morning you’d spend all the time in the world right here.

But because it is nearing five o’clock you spend maybe ten minutes between Natasha’s legs, licking into her leaking hole until she tenses and trembles and spills onto your tongue. By the time you wipe your mouth on the sheets and crawl up to her side she’s barely awake, but, “Thanks,” she mumbles, draping an arm across your middle and leaving a lingering kiss on your shoulder. “For not shutting me out.”

Natasha falls asleep tucked up against your side and by the time she’s snoring softly against your shoulder you’ve decided that, whatever the circumstances, whatever the mission, having someone tag along to babysit you isn’t the worst thing in the world at all when that person is Natasha.

And, for what it's worth, you're glad you haven't figured out how to push her away.

Call me baby

pairing: bucky barnes x reader x natasha romanoff

warnings: sexual content, choking kink, threesome, explicit language, face slapping, (please be careful if you want to try this at home) and basically a bunch of other sexual stuff (MINORS DNI)

a/n: the title doesn’t really have anything to do with the story, it just popped into my head. i didn’t make natasha speak russian in this just because i feel like she hated being/speaking russian, so yeah. also so gay for tasha i love her, what i wouldn’t give to be in a relationship with her and bucky. please enjoy the story that is my tired brain spilled into text. <3

The first time you realized that you were into some interesting things was when you Bucky and Natasha were laying in your bed in your shared apartment one day watching movies. You were laying in between the two avengers on your stomach, propped up on your elbows.

Natasha had her head laid on your back and Bucky was propped up against the headboard by your feet, flesh hand on the back of your left thigh. In the movie the woman’s boyfriend cheated on her and she was confronting him about it.

She reared her hand back and slapped him across the face, and he smirked at her slowly turning his head to look at her form as she left the room. At the sound of the crack as her hand connected with his face, you couldn’t help but let out a moan that unfortunately, didn’t go unnoticed by your two lovers.

“Uh, y/n?” Bucky said as he sat up from the headboard “Was that a moan?” Natasha added as she too lifted her head to look at you with a smirk. Your face grew a bit hot as you realized that you had involuntarily moaned at the sight of a man being slapped.

“Do you” Bucky paused as a grin spread across his face “Do you have a slapping kink?” You groaned as you flopped on your face, covering your face with your hands “No? Maybe? Shut up guys” you said muffled as you felt the bed shift a bit

“Aw” Nat said from above you, you could feel her straddle you and then soft hands prying your own hands away from your face “Don’t be embarrassed baby, we’ve always known you like it rough” your face unamused as you sat up and playfully pushed the laughing redhead off of you.

“You do like to be choked babydoll, it’s not a surprise” Bucky agreed “You guys- ugh i can’t” you buried your face into a pillow as both of them laughed. You felt large hands grab your waist and turn you over, Bucky grabbed your chin as he looked at you. “It’s certainly nothing to be ashamed of sweetheart, we’re not here to judge you” he leaned down and gave you a kiss.

“He’s right y/n, and i’m sorry, i wasn’t making fun of you, i just think you’re cute when you’re embarrassed” she leaned down and kissed you in the cheek. “How rude” you said, natasha looked down at you eyebrows furrowed “what’s rude babe?” “You didn’t even kiss me on the lips” you batted your eyelashes at her and she rolled her eyes as she leaned down “you’re an idiot” she quipped and you hummed with a smile, pulling her down by the back of her neck.

The kiss quickly turned heated and you tugged her on top of you, rolling your body into hers. She spread your legs apart, settling her hips between them before trailing the kisses down your neck.

“Guess tashas got it handled huh baby?” Bucky teased you as you turned your head to look at him. You gasped as the woman bit down on the sensitive part of your neck “Want you too” you moaned and reached out for him. Bucky pressed a kiss to your forehead before Natasha rolled the two of you over.

You broke the kiss with Natasha and Bucky’s metal hand came up to grip your throat pulling your face to his for a sloppy kiss. One of your hands came up to grip his wrist, moaning in his mouth as you continued to grind your crotch into Natashas.

“Fuck” she moaned as she saw Buckys hand wrap around your throat. Bucky pulled away smirking as you panted “you like that baby?” He looked down at her flushed face. The redhead grunted “love when she’s so submissive”

You whined as Natasha gripped your hips, turning you over so you two were on your sides facing each other. She ran a hand down your chest to your shorts, her fingertips just barely grazed your skin underneath the band of your shorts before she stopped.

She turned her head and smirked “you wanna watch buck?” The man let his eyes wander from his other girlfriend to your squirming form “please tasha, want you to touch me” you begged. Natashas attention turned back to you and she cooed “Tell Bucky that you want him to watch me touch you sweetheart, go on”

She slid her hand farther down your shorts, fingertips just above your clit “Want you to watch her make me cum james” you panted. “You’re so pretty when you beg, doll” he said just before natasha brought her hand down and began rubbing your clit, your moans echoing throughout the room as Bucky and Natasha spurred you on

“Such a good girl babydoll”

“Your pussy feels so good around my fingers honey”

“That’s it, tell us how good it feels y/n”

Natasha rubbed your clit faster as you began to withe beside her. “Gonna cum tash, please, please let me cum”

She had sat up by now, making your pleasure her top priority. She grabbed your chin roughly and forced you to look at Bucky, cock in hand, sweat dripping down his body as he watched Natasha work your pussy over.

“I want you to look at him when you cum, baby” she demanded. You felt your back arch off the bed as your orgasm washed over you and Bucky never broke eye contact with you. You could see his eyes darken as you came all over natashas hand, fighting to keep your eyes open as you watched him work his cock even faster.

Bucky threw his head back and groaned and you both could tell he was getting close by the way his cock twitched in his hand. You kissed Natasha leading her and yourself over to Bucky and you took his cock in your mouth. Bucky let out a loud “fuck!” At the feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around him.

Bucky raised his hand slightly and tapped your cheek a few times, and you nodded the best you could. “Are you sure?” He asked, still a little conflicted, you pulled yourself off of his shaft “I'm sure buck” and leaned up to kiss him before going back down.

The next thing you knew Bucky's flesh hand had come down across your cheek with a small crack! You moaned around his cock at the stinging feeling on your face, and your eyes fluttered close at the tingling following through your body.

You pulled off of Bucky's cock once again, pumping him a bit with your hand “harder” you said as you panted for air. Natasha groaned from behind you, watching as Bucky's hand came down a second time, this time hard enough to leave a glowing red mark “God you’re so fucking sexy sweetheart”

Soon you heard Bucky's groans get muffled and you saw that Natasha had pulled Bucky into a kiss, you felt yourself get wet all over again at the sight of your boyfriend and girlfriend kissing and you began to suck him a little faster. Buckys hand came down to wrap in your hair as he began to snap his hips back and forth, fucking your mouth.

You felt his cock twitch and he let out a low moan “fuck girls” he said before you felt his warm salty cum spill into your mouth. You swallowed around him and his hips sputtered, you pulled off of his cock and pulled Natasha down to your level “want a taste?” You asked before pulling her into a kiss, you felt some of Bucky's cum drip into her mouth and she moaned at the taste.

“Goddamn doll” Bucky groaned from above you and you smiled as you pulled away from her mouth to look up at him. Your attention turned back to Natasha, Buckys too. “It’s your turn honey” you said as you and Bucky pushed her back into the pillows. “I could get used to this” she smirked as she snuggled back, getting comfortable.

You shook your head at her and Bucky chuckled before kissing his way down her stomach. Her mouth turned into a beautiful ‘o’ shape as she felt Bucky's fingers run across her pussy. You leaned down to lay on your side beside her and started kissing her neck, hands running over her chest, gripping and tugging the hard nipples there.

“Damnit barnes” she groaned as Bucky teased her, pressing kisses just above her clit “what’s the matter doll? Can’t handle it?” He smirked. You hummed in amusement as you trailed down kisses to her chest, you figured Bucky tired himself out of teasing because a second later you could hear the sound of his tongue lapping at her pussy.

Natashas back arched as Bucky continued to lick and suck, her hand going around the back of your neck and pulling you down into a very sloppy kiss as she moaned into your mouth. “Feel good tasha?” You whispered against her lips “fuck yes!” She yelled out as Bucky quickened the pace. You cooed at her as you ran your hand down her body, Bucky tilting his head to give you some room.

You spit on yours fingers, getting them wet before easing them into her wet pussy, groaning at her clenching around your fingers. You could feel her cunt relax as you worked your fingers, pumping them in and out while Bucky sucked on her clit. “Oh god” she moaned, her hand flying down to grip Bucky’s hair as she rolled her hips into his face.

You and Bucky both could feel her start to get close as she started to whine underneath you two “you gonna cum on y/n’s fingers doll? Bucky panted, rubbing at her clit. “God yes, wanna cum, fucking hell” you worked your fingers faster “you’re so pretty when you’re all flushed baby” you said as you looked her body up and down, a thin layer of sweat covering her.

Bucky sucked her clit into his mouth and Natasha came undone, her back arched letting out a loud moan as she grabbed at the sheets while you and Bucky worked her through her orgasm. You could feel her cum gushing over your fingers as you continued to pump them in and out. “Oh god” she moaned as she gasped for air.

You pulled your fingers out and Bucky wiped his mouth. You held up your fingers to him “wanna taste?” You repeated what you said earlier, he smirked and grabbed your wrist popping them into his mouth. You watched with amused eyes as he sucked on your digits.

He pulled back and smiled “c’mere babydoll, I know you wanna taste too” Bucky pulled you in by the waist and pressed your lips together, his tongue swiping in your mouth. You moaned at the taste of your girlfriend on his tongue, pressing your hand to Bucky's cheek. “You two are insatiable” Natasha teased. You and Bucky pulled apart laughing and laid down on either side of her, pulling the sheets over you three.

“I can’t help that you taste so good babe” you nudged her cheek with your nose. “She’s got you there doll” Bucky laughed. “I hate you” she grumbled, you curled into her side as Bucky wrapped an arm around her “you love us” you retorted. She sighed.

“Unfortunately”

Dating Natasha Romanoff Would Include:

A/N- My apologies for my posting schedule being so inconsistent as of late. Knock on wood, I should be able to post more often soon. Let me know what you that think! :) - You two met as SHIELD agents. - You are very bubbly and vivacious whereas she's as cool as a cucumber and debonair. - Natasha seemed standoffish even for her at first but you eventually won her over with your crooked smiles and upbeat mood. - You and Nat ended up frequently being assigned together since you two get along so well. - You start dating shortly after Natasha confesses her feelings after you had a near death experience. - You transfer into the Avengers after the pseudo-collapse of SHIELD. - The other Avengers adore you by the way. - She flirts soooo much and never blushes. - She does smile at your attempts to flirt with her though. - You however turn into a blushing, stuttering mess with her. - She finds it adorable though. - She isn't huge on PDA but always is somewhat close to you. - In private, however, it's a completely different story. - If she thinks that it will go unnoticed by the others, she'll give you a quick peck on the cheek or give your hand a squeeze. - The others (particularly Clint and Bucky) usually notice and think it's incredibly cute. - When Tony commented on it one time Natasha may or may not have beat him to a pulp. - Needless to say, no one mentioned the romantic gestures again. - You're both super protective of each other. - If one of you can't go on a mission and the other is going, the one staying at home dressed the rest of the team down on the importance of protecting her and how their skin will be flayed if they come back without her. - You're pretty fantastic at fighting, but Nat insists on training you and definitely doesn't go easy on you. - She tells you about the Red Room and you desperately want revenge now. - You're there for her when she has nightmares. - You both really love each other and you both (she in particular though) are scared of losing each other. - It took Natasha awhile to say 'I love you' but she says it fairly often now; mostly out of fear that you'll be taken from her soon. - She gives great hugs. - Seriously, you can almost feel the passion she has for you. - You two have really bizarre nicknames for each other because why not. - You learn Russian so you can understand the words she mumbles under her breath. - You one day try to impress her with your knowledge of the Russian language. She actually bursts out laughing at you but she greatly appreciates it and it earned you a grateful forehead kiss. - Natasha doesn't get too jealous of other people try to hit on you. She just sort of walks up, kisses your cheek, and puts her arm around you. - If that doesn't get the guy to walk away, she'll just flat out tell them that you're taken. - You tend to turtle in when someone else flirts with her. She always notices though and goes to comfort you and remind you that she loves you. - You two are just a really perfect fit and -though there have been a few rocky patches- your relationship is really solid, stable, and just generally good. WARNING- I do not own Marvel or any of its associated properties. I own nothing. Marvel owns the Avengers, SHIELD, and all associated characters. You are owned by you! Please don't sue me.

Ummm... I have questions that needs to be answered. This was beautifully written. I'm heartbroken and now I'm left questioning everything. I need help..... Also is Natasha going to attack us since she's in the 'familiar' apartment or is she going to listen to us.... Furthermore wtf I- I wonder what's going to happen now. Yelena is off trying to kill Clint so how will it be impacted. How is it going to work out.

What If...? (Part Two)

Thanks @rebeliz777 for asking me to write part two, dream come true to work with one of my favourite authors.

Make sure you go check out part one here before reading this part.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f.reader

Request: A Natasha variant (preferably the one in What If.. who was a survivor of the Ultron apocalypse and then moved to a different timeline where the Avengers Initiative failed) arrived in the ‘canon’ timeline and then meets the reader who happens to be the wife of the ‘canon’ dead Natasha and reader also happens to be dead on Natasha variant’s own different timelines.

Am I making sense? Lol. Anyway, basically, the multiverse is in complete chaos here and different variants arrive in different timelines and Natasha and the love of her life meet each other again in the midst of all chaos. It would also be cool if Natasha variant gets shocked that her wife reader is in fact close to her Russian family. Would also really love Yelena to show up in this fic.

Words: 3.6k

What If...? is a collaborative writing project. Each chapter will be written by a different author but will follow the same storyline based on the request. Each author will add to the story until the request has been fulfilled.

Part Two

The past few hours had been a whirlwind. Yelena had taken you to a small private airport on the outskirts of the city where she led you to a light aircraft. You shouldn’t have been surprised when she had begun to set up for take off, Natasha was able to pilot most aircrafts so it made sense that her sister, a fellow widow, would possess the same skills.

You had strapped into the remaining seat in the cockpit, a wave of nostalgia washing over you as you recalled the countless times you had been a co-pilot for your wife. The memories of the easy smiles she would give you from the pilot's seat, headset resting atop her red locks as she looked over at you with nothing but love and adoration causing your heart to constrict painfully.

You turn away from Yelena, not wanting her to see the tears that were beginning to well in your eyes. You press the heel of your hand to your eyes, rubbing at them to try and get your emotions under control.

Yelena begins to nudge the small plane down the runway, the wheels lifting from the ground as the two of you become airborne. You adjust the headset over your ears, the noise from outside dulled by the noise suppression as your sister-in-law adjusts the dials on the control panel as you reach the desired altitude.

“So where are we going anyway?” you ask, your voice crackling through the headphones. You hadn’t thought to ask before now, too caught up with Yelena’s sudden appearance in your life and the prospect of meeting the rest of Natasha’s family.

She doesn’t even glance at you as she answers, her eyes fixed on the sky ahead as the plane glides through the air.

“Ohio.”

//

Thankfully the flight wasn’t long, an awkward silence filling the cockpit for the entire duration. You had so many questions but you were unsure how to bring them up, not wanting to dredge up any unpleasant memories for the woman who was clearly still struggling with the loss of her sister.

Instead, you watched the clouds as they rolled by, the sky a bright blue backdrop to one of the strangest days you had experienced in a long time. You hadn’t really done anything since Thanos, spending your days in your small apartment lost in the memories of happier times. The life you once led, days filled with missions and time spent training for the next threat were long behind you. You doubted you would ever be able to go back to it.

Not without Natasha.

When you land, the sun is high in the sky but the heat barely cuts through the late November chill. You’re glad you thought to bring your coat with you, wrapping it tighter around you as you climb down from the plane.

You’re surprised when you see the vehicle that Yelena is leading you towards, a blue pickup is not what you would have expected the blonde assassin to be driving. You don’t say anything as you clamber inside and neither does Yelena as she starts the car and begins the journey to your destination.

After ten minutes of driving, you can’t take the silence anymore and you reach for the radio. You thumb through the stations, trying to find a song that you recognised and smiling when the familiar notes of American Pie float through the air.

You close your eyes as you remember the look on Natasha’s face every time it would come on, the serene smile that would cross her face as she would close her eyes and sway gently to the beat. She never mentioned it but you knew it was one of her favourites and you were glad that the memory didn’t bring with it the usual wave of grief.

The music cuts off abruptly and your eyes fly open, looking over at Yelena and seeing the scowl across her features as she stares at the road ahead.

“No.”

She doesn’t offer any explanation and your stomach lurches as you realise that the song must be tied to one of her childhood memories with Natasha. Why else would the song elicit reactions from the both of them?

You turn your head to the window once more, watching as the truck navigates through the town. You pass shopfronts, football fields and rows and rows of houses; the neat, manicured lawns reflecting the ideal suburban life. You watch kids running around their yards, their laughter ringing through the air.

Yelena turns down a side street and you spy bikes resting against houses, trampolines standing tall in backyards and you even spot a tire swing hanging from one of the many trees. The houses are more spread out here, surrounded by trees and bushes and creating an almost magical, forest feel.

“This is where you grew up.” You don’t pose it as a question, not even looking to Yelena for confirmation.

Natasha had mentioned her time spent in Ohio, a wistful look on her face as she described the idyllic life she was able to lead for those few short years. Your heart had broken for her, knowing that the majority of her childhood had been filled with fear and pain. But you were glad she would always have the memories of her perfect life in the suburbs, even if it was all for show.

Yelena doesn’t respond, pulling into a driveway on the street and cutting the engine of the truck. She sits there for a moment, hands resting on the wheel as she gazes at the house before her. You catch the shimmer of her eyes and you know that the house represents more than you could ever imagine for her.

“C’mon,” she begins after a moment, reaching for the door handle. “Better not keep them waiting.”

She doesn’t wait for you, opening the door and exiting the vehicle. You watch her walk up the driveway, her plaid, yellow coat swaying as she moved. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves as you follow suit.

Yelena is already waiting at the door by the time you catch up to her, the sound of the doorbell echoing from within the house. You hear footsteps moving closer and before you have time to worry about what awaits you on the other side, the door swings open and you’re face to face with a tall, middle-aged man whose wide smile you can only just make out through his thick beard.

“Lena,” he exclaims, wrapping the blonde in a tight hug. “Your mother said you were coming but I didn’t believe her. You haven’t been to see the house since we moved in.”

Yelena pushes herself from his grasp trying to act annoyed by his attention but you catch the smile tugging at her lips. You realise this must be Alexi, the pseudo father that Natasha had told you about. She had always said he had a way of putting his foot in it despite his good intentions and you could see what she meant.

But still, the way he looked at Yelena, you could have sworn he was her biological father.

“And you’ve brought a friend?” His attention was now turned to you and you fight the urge to shrink under his gaze, despite the friendly look on his face.

“No, she’s not a friend,” Yelena answers him, her tone leaving no room for argument. “She’s family.”

You turn to look at her but she’s already pushing past Alexi to walk inside the house, leaving the man standing there looking at you dumbfounded.

“Well,” you say after a few moments of awkward silence, “this wasn’t how I expected to meet my in-laws.”

//

After the initial shock had worn off, Alexi had ushered you inside. You had followed him through the house to a small kitchen at the back where you saw Yelena being embraced by an older woman with dark hair. As they parted, the woman cupped Yelena's face in her hands while smiling down at her and you knew that it had to be Melina, no one else would look at her with such motherly affection.

Alexi cleared his throat and Melina’s attention fell to you, her smile faltering for only a second before she took a step toward you.

“And this must be Natasha’s wife, I’m so glad to finally meet you.” Her hand was stretched out toward you and you took it in yours, trying not to react to the grip so similar to your wife's’.

“Wait, you knew?” Alexi cut in, the outrage clear on his face.

“Of course I knew,” Melina rolled her eyes as she guided you to the table nearby, her hand gently gripping your elbow. “I knew our Natasha was in love the second I saw her again at the Petersburg house. Plus, she’s still wearing her ring”

You sit at the table, Yelena taking the spot across from you and looking at you with an unreadable expression. Melina moved back to the kitchen, busying herself with arranging food onto dishes and bringing them to the table. Alexi sat down at the head of the table, eyeing you warily as he methodically buttered a roll that Melina had placed in front of him.

“She never really talked about you,” Melina continued as she worked, her eyes flitting to you, “but I wouldn’t take that personally, dear. She was still so guarded around me, even after we took down the Red Room. I don’t blame her, we lost so many years together and I betrayed her trust.”

“She talked about you,” you say after a beat, Melina's eyes flicking to you hopefully. “She had a lot of things she kept secret, it was hard for her to open up, even with me. But sometimes she’d mention something from her time in Ohio and she always seemed happy when she was remembering her time here.”

You feel a warm weight on your hand and your gaze travels from Alexis hand resting over yours to see his eyes shining with emotion. You offer him a smile in return, realising how loved Natasha truly was.

You just hoped that she realised it too.

Melina placed the last dish on the table and the tension is broken as Alexi clears his throat and begins to pile food onto his plate. The rest of you follow suit and soon the room is filled with cutlery clinking against plates and the satisfied sounds of people eating.

“So,” Melina turns to you after a few minutes, “tell us about your Natasha.”

You pause, finishing the food in your mouth before you begin. Once you start, it's hard to stop. You share stories about your time with Natasha, talking about how you first met all those years ago. You share details of missions with her, how proud she always made you, how she always made sure to keep you safe.

It wasn’t all one-sided though. In between your stories, the others would share their own anecdotes about your wife. It was nice to see her through their eyes and to know that the strength she radiated around you was noticed by others.

As emotional as it was, it was nice to be able to talk about her with people who really knew her. They were her family and talking to them made you feel connected to her, something you hadn’t felt for many months. They were all you had left of her and you were glad they had welcomed you so openly.

The food was long gone, the remnants of lunch littering the plates as you all continued to talk. You laughed as Melina told the story of Natasha dying her hair blue when she was younger, an act of rebellion on her part. You even caught Yelena smiling a few times, something you were sure she was incapable of from the solemn attitude she had presented up till now.

“You should go visit her,” Melina says and you catch Yelena stiffen beside you.

You’re confused, unsure exactly what Melina’s words meant, your gut telling you that Yelena’s reaction wasn’t a good sign.

“Visit who?” you question quietly, the light atmosphere that had settled around the table now thick with tension once more.

“Natasha,” she answers you and your breath catches, hope filling you for the briefest of moments. “There was no body to bury but we had a gravestone made and placed nearby. Yelena can take you to see it if you want.”

You try not to let the disappointment show on your face, of course Natasha wasn’t still alive. If she had been, she would have found you before now, she wouldn’t have let you suffer in your grief all those long months.

You can sense from Yelena’s posture that she isn’t thrilled with the idea and to be honest neither are you. You don’t want to be faced with yet another reminder of your loss, of the fact that you were all alone in this world. But Melina’s offer didn’t really leave much room to decline the invitation and you had just found this piece of your wife to cling onto, you didn’t want to ruin your relationship with them before it had really begun.

“Okay,” you agree, trying to return Melina’s smile.

//

The blue pickup rumbled down the road, the crisp November air swirling through the open windows of the cabin and filling your lungs.

Yelena doesn’t talk and neither do you, the two of you sitting in silence once more as she drives to your destination, every second that passes filling you with dread. The truck turns off the main road, following a dirt track carved out between the trees.

Suddenly, Yelena stops the pickup, the engine idling for a moment before she turns the key and the air is silent around you aside from the sound of birds nearby. You take a deep breath, eyes darting around trying to find what you had come here for.

Your heart clenches as you spot it, a small collection of stones at the end of the path. You don’t have to ask which one is Natasha's, even from where you sat you could make out the Black Widow symbol, her gravestone littered with flowers and other small tokens. You weren’t sure who had put them there but you knew that even though they didn’t know what had happened exactly, the world was thankful for all that she had done for them.

If only they knew what her sacrifice meant, how responsible she was in bringing everyone back.

“Are you ready?” Yelena’s voice catches you off guard, tears springing to your eyes at the thought of leaving the car.

“I can’t do it,” you reply, your voice trembling as you shake you head. “Even though she’s not really there, I just- I can’t.”

Yelena just nods in response, her hands tightening on the wheel for a moment before she reaches over to open the door.

“Come on, Fanny,” she grunts as she steps down from the pickup, the tan dog that Yelena had retrieved from the house following her out.

You smile as a memory of Natasha flashes to your mind, her complaining about one of the aliases she had been given and how ridiculous the name was. You were once again reminded how much Natasha’s legacy was interwoven in other people’s lives, not just your own.

You were glad that you weren’t the only person who was fighting so hard to keep her memory alive.

You watch Yelena as she walks up the path towards the headstone, sitting solitary under a tree. She crouches down for a few minutes, tidying up around the stone. You see her fingers tugging at the weeds that were growing there, adjusting the items that had been placed in Natasha’s memory.

She moves to the side of the headstone then, pressing her head against it and you have to look away, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment of grief. You had lost your wife but Yelena had lost her sister. You were lucky that you had the last five years with Natasha, time was something that Yelena never got.

She rises after a moment, walking to stand in front of the gravestone. You watch as the bottom of her yellow coat sways with the breeze, the cool air whipping through the still open window and making you shiver. You reach over to wind the glass up and by the time you look back to Yelena, she’s no longer alone.

A lady in a black coat is now standing beside her, the two of them seeming to be engaged in a conversation. You wonder if Yelena knows this person, the stiff set of her shoulders radiating annoyance.

The mystery woman reaches into her bag, handing something to Yelena. They talk for a few more minutes and then Yelena is walking back toward you, leaving the woman standing over Natasha’s grave.

Yelena opens the door, ushering the dog inside before climbing in herself. You want to ask about what you just saw but you don’t know if you should, or if she would answer your question anyway.

“I need to go back to New York,” Yelena tells you. “I have something to take care of there.”

It’s the only explanation you get.

//

It had been a few weeks since your trip to Ohio. November had ended and the days were getting colder. You found yourself dreading the upcoming Christmas, not wanting to spend yet another holiday without your wife.

You hadn’t seen Yelena since she dropped you back home but you had heard from her a few times. You didn’t want to ask how she had acquired your number but every few days she would send you a message checking in, or a random memory of Natasha to share.

The two of you had started to form a tentative friendship but you still had no idea what it was that she had to take care of in the city. Anytime you brought it up she would just brush it off, saying she was getting ready for a job.

You had no idea what she even did for work and to be honest, you were too scared to ask.

//

Things had been strange in the city the past few days.

Some strange creatures had been spotted around, destroying buildings and terrorising the people of New York.

You had thought about helping whatever team was left but Strange had been in contact with you, telling you he had it all under control for now and that he’d let you know if he needed help. You were fine with that, not really wanting to get caught up in all that craziness again.

Last night had been the worst of it, the sky had lit up across the city, looking like it was about to crack open. You had no idea what it all meant, but by the time you had woken up this morning, things had looked like they had settled down.

There were no more sightings of giant lizard men or people dressed in green suits flying around and dropping explosives. You hoped that Strange had fixed everything, you knew that he had the potential to do some wild things with his magic and you wondered what exactly he had gotten himself into.

You spent the day wandering the city, the biting cold distracting you from your thoughts as you walked. The closer it got to Christmas, the more you were thinking about Natasha and all the traditions you usually shared with her.

You thought about reaching out to Wanda, but you hadn’t heard back from her in months and you figured that she didn’t want to be contacted. So instead you let your feet carry you through the city, the snow falling around you as you shoved your hands deeper into your pocket to try and fight off the cold.

The sky was beginning to darken, so you decided to return home, not wanting to get caught outside at night in the snow. You trekked the familiar path to your apartment, admiring the lights of the city along the way.

You had to hand it to New York, they certainly knew how to celebrate Christmas.

You step off the elevator, walking towards your apartment door. You’re almost there before you notice it, the flicker of a shadow underneath your closed door. Your breath stops short, someone was in your apartment.

You figure it must be Yelena again and you vow to have a talk to her about breaking into people’s houses instead of knocking but just in case, you retrieve the gun hidden in the vent across from your door.

You unlock the front door, opening it slowly and stepping into the dark entryway. You flick the light on, gun raised as you move inside. The door clicks behind you and you strain to hear any kind of movement but all you’re met with is silence.

You decide to do a sweep of the apartment, maybe you had imagined the shadow but your years of training wouldn’t let you rest until you had checked every room.

Taking a deep breath, you turn the corner with your gun still raised and you’re met with another gun pointing back at you.

Your instinct tells you to pull the trigger but you hesitate, the flash of red hair behind the gun stopping you in your tracks.

You take in the intruder. Her hair was shorter than you remembered, her green eyes looking more haunted than they had before the Time Heist but it was her. Or at least a version of her.

You see her falter as well, her gun lowering slightly as she looks at you in recognition and disbelief. She whispers your name, your chest constricting as you hear her voice. Something you never thought you would hear again.

Your voice sounds choked as you reply, your whole world shifting in one moment.

“Natasha?”

Onto part three, take it away @vancityfire13 ! I can’t wait to see where you go with it ❤️