I Need More Mediocre Gfs Please!! Maybe Like Reader Getting Hurt In An Attack Like I’m Curious How

I need more mediocre gfs please!! Maybe like Reader getting hurt in an attack like I’m curious how she would act

sure but i didnt rly do that bc nothing serious ever happens in the mediocre gfs verse<3 welcome to the circus babies<3

Your relationship isn't public in the sense that neither of you thinks it's particularly wise to advertise to Nat's long, long list of enemies that she fostered any sort of positive emotion towards any specific member of the general public. It isn't particularly wise to advertise that Nat experiences any emotions, really, since unpredictability is the name of the game. But it's okay if people know she, perhaps, might like her coworkers because her coworkers could kill someone accidentally by, like, breathing too hard or something. You, on the other hand, are entirely normal. Maybe not well-adjusted, mentally at least, but you're not an alien with super strength, nor are you a mutated superhero borne from unethical scientific experimentation. Just normal human you.

Her friends and family know, obviously, since Nat is as unrepentant and shameless as they come. She likes to flex the fact that she's not emotionally stunted enough to not be able to bag a girl, basically. You're glad, at least, that you don't have to stop yourself from throwing yourself at Nat during house parties.

Nat also likes to lounge on an armchair with you perched on her lap, looking like the cat that got the cream; she said, one time, that it makes her feel like she has a huge cock. You had rolled your eyes at that, arms looped around her neck, and assured her that her cock was, indeed, quite large. She had smirked and kissed your neck and said in that insufferable tone: "I know." And Clint, who had been sitting on a nearby couch, had made a noise of revulsion and disappeared into the kitchen so he didn't have to hear Nat and you being so annoying. The two of you were a joy, to say the least, at Avengers dinner parties.

So, it comes as a surprise to both you and Nat--and your superhero friends when they hear about it afterwards--when you're shoved into a crummy alley by gunpoint because no one is supposed to know about your relationship to her outside of your inner circles. It's also a surprise because, you know, there's a gun pointed at you by a really menacing looking dude.

You're supposed to be safe. Everyone made sure to keep your relationship under wraps. How did they find you?

He's shouting at you, but you're too panicked, fumbling with your bag and backing into the wall, to really process what he's saying. Nat, who had been on a call with you, is also yelling at you in alarm through the AirPods Pro she had gotten you as a gift. You don't know what the fuck is happening. Maybe you shouldn't walk around the city with the noise-cancelling function on.

Suddenly, she goes quiet, and you glance at your phone, seeing the call has been dropped, and so too, then, does your stomach. A heavy feeling of dread sinks into you, and you find yourself shaking.

The barrel of the gun waves closer to your face, and you let out an undignified squeak, and then the man is wrenching your phone away with a curse when he realizes you had been on a call. Now, you are paying lots of attention to the man with the gun.

He is a mugger. You are being mugged.

"Oh, thank god," you let out in a rush, basically hurling your AirPods case at him. "Here. I-I'll get my wallet, too. It's- It's in my bag."

He is taken aback by your change in attitude, clutching the case like his life depends on it. "What- Hey, lady. What the fuck?"

You nod rapidly. "Yeah. Yeah, don't worry about me. Well, you can. I mean, don't shoot me. I have to get my wallet, okay?"

"...Okay?" The gun lowers. Dark eyes blink at you through his ski mask in utter bewilderment. "I mean-" He draws the gun back up with a scowl. "Just give me the bag."

You frown now, too. You had bought Nat a sandwich. It's in there. "But..."

"Give me the fucking bag!"

"Right! Yeah! Jesus, okay," you yell out, shoving the bag towards him and flinching away when the gun once again comes too close to comfort. "I just want you to know that my girlfriend's going to be so mad at you."

He ignores you. Why would he reply, after all? He's a mugger. You're his victim blathering on about your girlfriend. Your totally regular girlfriend.

Your girlfriend, whom you have yet to spot swinging off the roof and onto the fire escape above. Until, that is, her boots hit it with a loud clang, and both of you jerk up to look.

Then, it's over for him because Nat comes down swinging with a furious look on her face, utterly silent aside from her grunts when she lands on him and throws him upside down into the dumpster. A gunshot rings out, hitting the wall far enough away from you that you don't immediately piss yourself, but it's still a gunshot, so you still jump away with a screech.

You fall into the wall, dropping your bag, and scramble on your ass towards the main street. By the time you've gotten your bearings, Nat's straddled the mugger, gun kicked far into the alley and is midway through her third punch into the guy's face.

"Nat," you gasp out, pulse racing, throbbing, really, in your temple, "Nat!"

Your cries fall on deaf ears. She's still giving this guy hell, questioning him in a tone so cold you're glad you never have to face her for real. She seems to be under the impression that he's a neo-Nazi terrorist or something.

Quickly, you crawl over, scuffing your knees on the sidewalk, and place a hand on her back. She stills, still glowering down at the crumpled mugger beneath her. But then you put your other hand on her back, and you slide them onto her shoulders, and you cling on with a shuddering sigh.

She feels safe. She feels warm and solid and real. It hadn't felt real these past few minutes, you realize belatedly, and you cling on tighter. Suddenly, there are tears in your eyes. You feel a bit stupid for them since this is something that happens every day in the city, and Nat's faced worse, and here you are, about to sob your eyes out.

In relief, though. Relief. Sweet relief in the arms of your equally shaken up girlfriend.

She plants a hand on the guy's head, forcing his nose into the cement, and slips her free arm around your hiccupping shoulders.

"It's okay," she murmurs into your hair, a strangled note to her voice. "I'm here. It's okay."

"He-He was just mugging me," you manage, stilted, and so very much in love with Nat. Acutely aware of your love for her when you feel her relax and then stiffen up and then relax again once she's registered what you said. You keep blubbering on: "You crossed four blocks in as many minutes because I was getting mugged."

"Well." She sniffs, pressing him harder into the ground and disregarding his pained moan. "Yes."

"I love you," you say around a ragged breath. Your tears are subsiding.

Nat stiffly pats your back and glances down at him. "Yes."

"You should probably call off whatever national security agency you contacted," you say after a moment.

Both of you pay the mugger's squawk no mind. Nat just nods and says, again, "Yes." She releases you to pull her phone out of her pocket, face entirely unreadable, as she does as told. "You should also apologize to Carol."

"Me?" You make a face. Shuffle closer on your knees. "Why?"

"She, uh," Nat starts, then stops with a grimace. Rolls her eyes. "There's a war happening. Like, a few galaxies away."

"Galaxies," you repeat.

"Yeah. She's probably halfway here already."

"Galaxies."

"Yeah, baby," she says into her phone as she taps away. "She says that she's glad that you're all right, but you owe her a round of drinks."

You yank her arms closer to you--or, rather, she lets you pull her phone to your face. "She says you owe her drinks."

"We owe her drinks; that's what I said," Nat says. Finally, you see the wobble of her lips. Up and down, and up again. "You... You're okay?"

You smile softly, wiping the dampness from your cheeks. "Yeah. What about you, honey?"

Nat just nods. Then, she looks down at the guy under her and gets up with an out of place grace. He instantly tries to get up and run, but Nat just steps on his back, and he goes down again.

You pry your AirPods case out of his grip and get to your feet to pick up your bag. You put your stuff back in and shuffle back to Nat, who's palming her forehead and staring at the sky.

You curl your fingers around her tense forearm, rubbing a thumb into her skin until she turns to look at you.

"I love you," you repeat.

Nat lets her lips slant upward, and she cups your cheek. "Me too. About you."

You lean into her, nosing at her shoulder with a sigh. "How did you even get here?"

Nat lets out a breathy laugh. "Breaking and entering, and parkour on top of rooftops."

"Thank you," you say after a beat.

She shakes her head, hand pressing harder into your face. "Don't thank me."

"This is, like, cute and romantic, but I think you broke my ribs and my nose," says the mugger who has since dragged himself up to sprawl against the dumpster.

"Shut up," Nat snaps. "You should be glad I didn't break more."

He huffs and crosses his arms.

You wrap your arms around Nat's waist, smiling widely into her jacket. Nat can tell, of course, because she always knows. She tangles her hands in your hair, cradling you close to her chest, as fond of you as you are of her.

"Oh," you remember suddenly, "I got you a sandwich."

The cops find the three of you like this: Nat munching on a club sandwich with you draped over her side and the mugger looking awfully put out opposite you guys.

That night, and in the days following, Nat refuses to let you leave her sight. Very awkward to wash your hands in front of the bathroom line that had all seen a stoic Nat barge her way into your stall. You wouldn't change a single thing about it.

Tags

marvel natasha romanoff x reader the avengers mcu natasha romanoff black widow natasha romanov natasha x reader nat natasha romanov x reader nat x you

Timebomb

Adoptive Mom!Natasha Romanoff x Child!Reader + Avengers

Word Count: 5.3K

A/N: A kid!reader develops powers after being attacked in New York. The Avengers have to decide what to do with them.

Also part of a March Madness event run by @missmonsters2 This is loosely based on Matilda. :)

You’d had a life. A whole life, with parents who loved you and an apartment that you called home. That’s what you liked to imagine anyway. It didn’t matter. Whatever it was, it was over now.

Aliens had attacked New York. You didn’t remember your family, but they’d been collateral damage. You didn’t remember the apartment, but you’d seen the blasted brick and mortar of where it might have been.

Your first memory was a light. Blue until it touched your skin. You’d glowed golden for a minute, felt an uncomfortable warmth trickle underneath your skin. You hadn’t been sure if you were alive or dead.

You’d been scared, but, in truth, it had been over quickly.

When they found you, lying in the rubble, you hadn’t been human anymore.

Before that, you’d been just like everyone else; running for your life. Then a blast from Loki’s scepter had caught you in the chest.

A police officer had found you first. He’d run towards you with the steady diligence of an emergency responder in the middle of an unthinkable emergency.

His hand had touched your shoulder and, just like that, you’d gone off like a bomb.

The next person to come close, did not touch you.

You’d woken from your own explosion to see several figures emerging from the clouds of dust. Every one of them had a gun. Every gun was trained on you. Every breath stung as you inhaled fragments of the rubble around you.

You tried desperately to remember who you were, but all you could think of was your fear. There was a low thrum of constant pain around your chest. You brought your hands to your ribs instinctively, recoiling at the instant rush of pain.

You tried not to look at the guns. You tried not to think about the cold determination of those holding them. You tried, instead, to listen to the one woman who was speaking.

Clear and direct. You cried as you complied with her instructions. You knew that you wanted your parents, but you didn’t remember who they were.

You were directed into the back of a black van. Panic flooded your chest as you sat on the metal bench bolted to the floor. Your feet did not reach the ground.

You tried to look at the faces of the people pointing the guns. Each was obscured by a black gasmask. The van tasted like dread. You felt sure now that you were going to be killed or tortured.

Hot panic rose in your chest when the van doors slammed shut. Your eyes darted between the strangers in gas masks and the small hatch just across from you.

You watched as slow plumes of white smoke began to seep through the hatch. You couldn’t catch your breath. The gas tasted sweet on your tongue. The pain in your ribs faded as you lost consciousness.

—--------------

When you next woke up, you were strapped to a hospital bed. Tears sprung to your eyes as the disorientation returned. All you knew for certain was that you were alone.

The restraints on your wrists were heavy. You felt painfully explosed.

You were not alone in the hospital room. There were two others.

Somehow, you knew this before you looked over.

The two strangers’ emotions seeped into your mind unbidden.

You looked over to the far side of the room.

There was a tall woman with dark hair standing by the door. A tight pitying feeling curled in your chest. You realised that it was coming from her. You didn’t like the sensation.

There was also a man, sitting in the chair opposite you. He wore an eye patch and stupidly you thought first of a pirate. You watched his one eye warily. His emotions were colder, closely held and calculating. But, there was also something greedy there.

Fear spiked inside you. You didn’t trust this man. You didn’t understand how you could sense his feelings, but you were sure that your instinct was right.

The extra sense you’d developed whilst you were unconscious was brand new, but it felt undeniably strong.

As you processed these radiating emotions, you became more aware of your surroundings.

There was a low hum coming from the floor below you. It sounded like engines, but that didn’t make sense. You didn’t feel like you were moving. You glanced out the window. There was only blue sky and clouds.

You weren’t in New York anymore. The panic you felt was phantom. You couldn’t remember why New York was your home.

‘How old are you?’ The man asked you gruffly. You opened your mouth, coughing automatically to try and clear your throat. Your mouth still tasted like the dust and rubble.

‘I don’t know.’ You told him. ‘I don’t know anything.’ Tears began to run down your cheeks. The man’s expression didn’t change and you felt his clear distrust. You wondered if he was going to kill you.

Your eyes darted to the woman in the corner. Her expression was neutral. A careful calmness covered her earlier pity.

‘Three people died in the explosion you caused.’ The woman informed you in a cool tone. You recognised her voice with a jolt. It was the only voice in the world that you knew how to recognise. This was the one woman who had pointed a gun at you. Somehow, the familiarity reassured you.

She hadn’t killed you before.

‘I didn’t mean to. I swear, I didn’t mean to’ You told them, and your chest heaved with a shaky sob. ‘I was running and I got hit.’

‘Hit by what?’ The man asked you bluntly. You scrambled uselessly as you tried to sit up more in the bed. The restraints kept you in place.

‘There was this blue light.’ You mumbled, feeling stupid and useless with your explanation. ‘And then everything was yellow, and it knocked me over. I don’t remember anything before that.’

The man assessed you silently and you tried to control your breathing. You were too scared to look at him. You glanced nervously up at the woman every few seconds. You imagined that her eyes had softened, but you weren’t sure. It was hard to untangle anyone else’s emotions, not when your own had become so overwhelming.

The silence was oppressive, and then it was gone.

The only door to your room slammed open and you startled once more against the restraints. Four men and one woman entered the room. Your eyes trailed each one in turn. They all looked dirty, scraped and exhausted. You sensed that they felt the same too.

You only recognised the man who spoke first.

‘Thor’s keeping an eye on the Wicked Witch of the West.’ Tony Stark announced casually. ‘The rest of us were free to answer your summons.’

You stared down at the white hospital bed sheets, feeling strange shame as the group turned their attention to you.

‘Care to explain why there’s a kid in handcuffs?’ Tony Stark asked again, a fresh kind of steel in his voice. You couldn’t tell if the distrust he was radiating was aimed at you.

‘I thought Shield didn’t recruit kids.’ A blonde man murmured. His quiet pity seemed out of place.

‘They don’t.’ The woman answered quietly. ‘Or, they didn’t.’

You looked up at her voice. Despite her softer tone, her emotions were the strongest that you could sense.

Her eyes caught yours and you could feel the overwhelming concern that was hidden within them.

Other than that, her casual expression betrayed nothing.

You realised abruptly that she was scanning your face too. Nervousness forced you to look back down at the bedspread.

The eye-patch man started talking evenly. He described you as infected by the powers of someone called ‘Loki’. The dark haired woman picked up the conversation, with a succinct description of the explosion you had caused.

You started crying silently. You were painfully aware of growing distrust from everyone in the room. You didn’t feel human anymore.

Your wrists tugged instinctively once more against the handcuffs and this time they clanked. The room became brittle with tension.

‘How can we keep her contained?’ A third man asked seriously, adjusting his glasses.

‘Some of our own precautions for your green friend could become useful, Dr. Banner.’ The eyepatch man noted wryly.

You had seen the green monster rampaging on the city’s streets. Your mouth went dry. You couldn’t imagine the methods that were used to keep it under control.

‘Is that enough?’ The blonde man asked. Quiet concern emanated from him. ‘How many civilians are we putting in danger?’

‘Are we all seeing the same kid?’ The red-headed woman commented neutrally. Her words seemed passive, but you felt a strong kick of protectiveness from her.

You exhaled shakily, desperately clinging to the safety that her emotions brought you,

‘Red, I nearly died sending all the other aliens into space.’ Tony Stark noted, his anxiety clear enough in his voice. ‘You want me to keep this one as a pet?’

An unspeakable rage flitted out from the woman. Somehow, her voice stayed even.

‘Not a pet, Tony.’ She corrected in the same neutral tone. ‘A child.’

Tony rolled his eyes.

‘Or a timebomb.’ The man with the glasses countered. You could tell that he trusted you least of all.

The man who hadn’t spoken at all yet cleared his throat. His face was the most grimy, but his blue eyes were piercing.

‘Tasha’s right.’ He said simply. ‘That’s a scared kid.’

‘Please don’t kill me.’ You whispered at last, eyes darting to the man with the eyepatch who seemed to be the one making the decision.

Like before, your words had no impact on his cold emotions.

‘You don’t remember your parents?’ He checked directly.

You shook your head. You wished that you could wrap your arms around yourself. You didn’t remember them, but you felt their loss in your gut.

‘Stark Tower.’ The man determined suddenly.

Tony Stark opened his mouth to argue But, the eyepatch man continued.

‘It’s got the security and the surveillance capabilities. But it’s not a prison.’ He explained, eyeing the red-haired woman pointedly.

There were protests and debates that happened after that. The whole group left your hospital room still arguing between themselves.

But, from that moment, your future had been determined.

—---------------

Stark Tower was impressive. You felt more scared with every step you took. Curious eyes watched you from all directions. You were hard to ignore with your security detail.

You walked alongside the eyepatch man, now known to you as ‘Director Fury.’ You had to half-run to keep up with him. Agent Hill walked directly behind you.

To anyone else, the escort would have looked unusually protective. You hated yourself for the danger you were inflicting by being near others.

As you all stood together in the elevator. Director Fury told you about the Simulated Home Environment. The building’s AI would constantly monitor you, following detailed instructions given by Tony Stark.

You would be allowed a semblance of a home life. Any actions outwith the enforced rules would result in a different containment method.

Maybe he caught your confused look.

‘Behave.’ He intoned at last, and you nodded nervously.

The elevator doors opened at last.

Tony Stark and a professional looking woman with light auburn hair were waiting.

‘Didn’t blow up the building then.’ Tony noted dryly as you stepped into the living room space. Wealth dripped from every furnishing in the room.

The woman shot him a reprimanding look, before turning to you with a polite smile. Her expensive suit was undermined by the careful kindness that radiated from her. She extended her hand.

‘Nice to meet you.’ She said clearly. ‘I’m Pepper Potts.’

You took her hand shyly, it was the first normal contact you could remember. It calmed the skin crawling feeling of your touch starved existence. You pretended not to feel the spike of distrust from Tony at your touch.

‘I run Stark Industries, and I live here too.’ She supplied, confirming the relationship between her and Tony.

‘Nice to meet you.’ You whispered, scared now of ever making too much noise. Everyone had warned you not to cause damage, but no one had told you how to avoid it.

Whatever powers you’d been given. They were as unknown to you as they were to anyone else.

Despite her kindness, Pepper looked slightly relieved as she let go of your hand.

‘Jarvis.’ Tony called out suddenly, and you heard an answering voice from above.

‘Good evening (Y/N).’ A British voice intoned from the ceiling.

You jumped sharply at the unexpected noise and, in response, a deathly tension filled the room. Everyone’s eyes were on you.

‘I’m fine.’ You mumbled embarrassedly.

‘Keep it that way.’ Fury warned you in a low voice.

‘I’ll leave you to play Happy Families.’ He addressed Tony and Pepper, before reentering the waiting elevator with Agent Hill.

All you were left with was nerves. You tried to pretend that there wasn’t hope mixed in as well.

‘Dinner?’ Pepper suggested with forced lightness.

You nodded. A primal, desperate wish for family made it hard to breathe.

As you walked forward, Pepper’s hand moved automatically to touch your shoulder. She pulled back at the last moment. You pretended not to notice.

Tony seemed the most brooding as you ate together in silence. You worked through a plate of salmon, greens and rice even though you weren’t hungry.

You drank your water, unable to lose an aching thirst at the back of your throat.

Pepper and Tony both scrolled on StarkPads as they ate robotically. You wondered if they were always like this, or it was their attempt to ignore the tension.

The prickling thirst in the back of your throat made you desperate to cough. You fought the impulse, not wanting to make any sound. You knew they’d both startle if you did. You hated how easily you scared people. You hated being so unwanted.

When you offered to rinse the dishes and load the dishwasher, Pepper acquiesced unsurely.

They both moved over to the open plan living room space. You didn’t need to see their worried glances to know they didn’t trust you around knives.

The unrelenting feeling of thirst was almost entirely distracting.

You tried to focus on your task. Any little thing to pretend at being normal felt good.

You wondered if it was moments like this that Agent Romanoff had been advocating for when she’d spoken up for you in the hospital room. You tried to decide if this was what family meant.

Just as you finished the chore, you heard a clinking sound from behind you. At the same time, your feeling of thirst began to abate.

You turned slowly, savouring the silent relief you felt.

Tony was standing by the window, staring out as he drank a large whisky with ice. Pepper was sitting on the sofa, talking with quiet purpose into her phone.

Every sip Tony took, lessened the feeling of thirst for you. It scared you to think that his thirst was so strong.

Tony turned back to you. He watched you with a look of mild distaste.

Suddenly, you thought back to his comment about having a pet. You wondered if that’s why his stare made you feel so small.

‘Come on.’ He announced at last as she drained his glass. ‘I’ll show you your room.’

Despite leading you forward, he kept you carefully in his sight.

You kept your eyes trained to the floor.

It felt stupid to be scared, when you were the dangerous one.

Tony pushed open the door to your room.

It was clean, fresh and dripping with the same wealth as the rest of the penthouse.

The walls were a steely kind of grey. They reminded you immediately of the reinforced Shield ones. With a jolt, you realised that they were made of the same material.

You blinked back tears of shame.

You’d had nightmares in the hospital. You’d heard the nurses talking about how you’d glowed red when you dreamed.

You felt like a freak.

‘The door will be locked automatically by Jarvis when you go to sleep’ Tony informed you tersely. Just being alone with you had made his anxiety spiked noticeably. His thirst was rising again. His emotions undercut any facade of nonchalance.

You nodded.

‘It’s getting late.’ Tony added, and you felt his rising anticipation to be away from you.

You pretended that what he said was true.

‘I’m quite tired.’ You lied, watching Tony’s expression relax with relief.

‘Night, kid.’ He muttered as he shut the door behind him.

You went to sit on the large bed. It was comfortable, but the coral pink sheets clashed ridiculously with the rest of the room.

You took off your shoes and paused unsurely as you scanned the room. You hurried over to the chest of drawers in the corner, opening the drawers until you found one filled with pyjamas.

You changed robotically. A new listlessness distracted you.

Tony’s dismissal had thrown you. Despite the awkward tension in the living room, it had been more social interaction than you could ever remember having.

You were sick of feeling so isolated. You were sick of being so completely alone.

More than anything though, you knew you didn’t want to sleep.

You could hear screams in your nightmares sometimes. The last second of life for the people you’d killed.

You thought a lot about the families that you’d ripped a hole into. You worried that you were spreading pain, like some diseased consequence of Loki’s weapon.

No one missed you though.

Agent Hill had been factual when you’d finally got the courage to ask. No family members were looking for you. They must have died too.

Or. A little voice whispered in your head. Or no-one’s ever wanted you.

You hugged your legs as you sat back on your new bed. It was the closest you could get to a hug. You pretended that you weren’t crying, but you didn’t know how to stop.

You could hear Pepper laughing in the other room. She sounded relaxed, relieved. It felt lonelier being this close to happiness, knowing it could only happen when you weren’t there.

‘Will you be sleeping soon Y/N?’ The disembodied voice of Jarvis, spoke again into the room. You stared unsurely upwards, trying and failing to see any marker of where the voice originated.

‘No.’ You breathed your answer, worried that your response might be breaking the rules that Fury had warned you about.

‘May I suggest a book?’ Jarvis offered. His voice was polite, inherently friendly. Even without emotions for you to read, it was easy to trust him.

You walked obediently to the bookshelf in the corner and picked up the first book you saw.

The book was dry, but it was better than nothing. At the hospital, there’d been nothing to occupy you at all.

You fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, too tired for even the screams.

—------------------

Jarvis opened the blinds in the room at exactly 7 am.

Your eyes screwed tight shut at the brightness. It did no good, you were awake.

Your head pounded with sleep deprivation as you got ready, before heading through to the kitchen.

Pepper was sitting at the table, wearing a white skirt suit. She was sipping coffee from an oversized flask.

Her attention snapped to you as you walked through the door.

‘There you are.’ She said politely, and you were surprised by the feeling of stress that she was hiding. ‘I was hoping you’d be up soon. What can I get you for breakfast?’

Pepper’s smile was welcoming, but you caught the way she glanced at her watch.

‘It’s okay.’ You mumbled, feeling awful as you realised that she was running late on your behalf. ‘I can make my own.’

Pepper hesitated.

‘Are you sure?’ She checked, and like with Tony the night before, you could sense her anticipation to leave.

You nodded, trying to seem confident.

Pepper nodded once before leaving. Like yesterday, you watched her half-hesitate about touching your shoulder.

Instead, she picked up her StarkPad and gave you a small wave.

‘Have a good day. Tony’ll be around for lunch’ She said with another polite smile, before the elevator doors closed.

Alone in the penthouse for the first time felt both scary and exciting. You should have expected Jarvis’ immediate interruption.

‘Babysitter protocol has been activated.’ He informed you.

‘Great.’ You said with a friendly smile toward the ceiling. Jarvis wasn’t real, but at least you weren’t completely on your own.

Patiently, Jarvis walked you step by step through a pancake recipe. It was nearly an hour until you’d progressed far enough to eat anything. Still, you couldn’t stop the proud grin when you found out the pancakes were edible.

‘Thanks Jarvis.’ You called out shyly. The ridiculousness of talking to the ceiling was quickly being overwritten by the thrill of talking to someone.

‘Of course.’ He responded succinctly.

It felt good to have someone to talk to. It didn’t let up the skin crawling feeling, but it helped. When Jarvis suggested that you watch some television, you agreed obediently. Easily distracted, you found yourself asking the AI questions as you watched

Jarvis told you the history of every artefact that you pointed out from the movie about a Night At The Museum.

Secretly, you wished more than anything that Jarvis was real. He sensed your need to keep talking, even when you ran out of questions.

He told you stories about earlier versions of himself. The funny glitches that had been patched over the years.

The only painful moment had come after you’d asked about the best museums in New York.

There had been a slight pause before Jarvis had answered.

‘You’re not permitted to leave the apartment without Mr. Stark or Director Fury.’ He answered clearly.

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. It was hard not to feel like a prisoner sometimes. You stared out the floor-length windows. You wished that you could remember fresh air, without the taste of rubble or debris.

A new idea hit you as the end credits played on the TV screen.

If Tony was your best chance at going outside, you had to get him to like you.

Agent Romanoff’s words about being a pet, struck you again. It didn’t seem so bad to you now. Even dogs were allowed fresh air.

Getting to your feet, you checked the time. It was nearly lunch. You asked Jarvis what Tony’s favourite meal was.

—---

When Tony arrived at 2pm, you were as prepared as you could be. A whiskey coke and a burger were sitting ready on the counter.

Tony walked over to the counter and observed the food. He made no move to sit down on one of the stools. His heightened distrust told you exactly what he was thinking.

‘Where did that come from?’ He said in a voice that was more accusation than question. Before you could speak, Jarvis cut in.

‘I have monitored and instructed Y/N.’ He informed Tony matter of factly. You flushed, sure you could hear an element of pride in the AI’s voice.

Tony sniffed the glass and you felt the same choking thirst as you had last night as he smelled the whiskey.

The tension in the room eased as he took a sip. He nodded and you fought a smile.

Tony downed the glass efficiently. Then, he lifted the burger bun slightly, examining the meal with an unimpressed look.

In one quick move, he lifted the plate and emptied it into the trash.

A feeling of acute hopelessness made you grip the counter to stay standing.

‘You’re only allowed to cook for yourself.’ Tony muttered. ‘Don’t get smart with the rules.’

He picked up his Starkpad and walked back to the elevator.

You ate the burger that you’d saved for yourself. The half blackened first attempt to Tony’s. A numbness filled the cracks in your heart. Even Jarvis stayed silent.

After you’d cleaned the kitchen, you went back to your room.

No space felt welcome anymore, except perhaps in here. Without prompting, you picked up the next book on the shelf.

Jarvis spoke softly.

‘As part of the Simulated Home Environment programme, I can order you more books.’ He offered.

You closed your eyes as tears started falling again. Instinctively, you understood that it was the closest he could offer to a hug.

‘Thanks Jarvis.’ You whispered.

You resolved in that moment, to avoid Tony and Pepper as much as possible. Guilt plagued you as you realised that you were ruining their home. Jarvis made the decision bearable, even artificial kindness was better than rejection.

—-------------

It is very easy to forget someone you don’t care about. It is even easier when you are barely reminded of them.

You adjusted immediately to a schedule of isolation. You only ate meals when the apartment was empty. You did your best to stay occupied in the room you’d been assigned.

Pepper made a half-hearted effort initially.

She would come to your room in the evening, checking in with her careful kindness and polite smile. Just feeling her exhaustion after a long day of work only made you feel more guilty for existing.

Soon, you started making sure you were in bed before she returned. You heard her try your locked door once or twice. Soon, she left you alone.

Tony’s method was much more efficient. He made no attempts to see you.

You were sure he tried to put you out of mind as much as possible. Any messages from him were relayed through Jarvis.

Sometimes, you only knew he had returned to the apartment, because of the pang of thirst that would only last a few moments after arrival.

—-------

Jarvis became your best friend. Grocery orders soon included as much tailoring to your wants as he could manage. You tried making new recipes together.

You weren’t allowed any internet access, so every book he provided you with was a welcome relief from the unrelenting listlessness. He found a loophole to buy you educational materials, and soon enough you had lego kits and engineering kits to trial.

The best part about Jarvis was that he talked to you. He learned to wake you from nightmares, before the red glow knocked your furniture over.

Your skin never stopped crawling from the lack of touch. But, as the world carried on better without you in it, you learned that isolation was what you deserved.

—----------

When Tony took Pepper on a surprise Christmas vacation, you were surprised by the disappointment you felt.

You’d been looking forward to seeing a Christmas tree more than anything.

You tried to see the positive of unrestricted access to the whole of the apartment. You watched Christmas movies and commented on them to Jarvis. You built your own tree out of green lego, and placed it on the side table.

Loneliness was a feeling that had started to drag. You tried to put it out of your mind.

You weren’t expecting anything for Christmas, least of all what you got.

At 7pm on Christmas Eve, Jarvis announced that an authorised guest had entered the elevator.

Electric fear had sent you into a tailspin. You were sure it must be Director Fury. You worried he’d found out you were home alone, and was ready to move you somewhere more secure.

You’d had that exact nightmare more than once.

When Agent Romanoff stepped off the elevator, clutching her side in obvious injury, your mouth dropped in shock.

‘Hi kid.’ She said with a reassuring smile clearly intended to keep you calm. ‘You happen to know where the first aid kit is?’

The instruction grounded your shooting anxiety. You hadn’t been face to face with another person in months. You nodded, hurrying over to the cupboard under the sink for the nearest kit.

You offered it out to her from a careful distance, embarrassed by the way your hands trembled. She noticed the shaking, but she didn’t comment.

‘Thanks.’ She murmured and you couldn’t help the rush of relief at her praise.

You could feel her curiosity at your reaction. It sat with her muted pain, just below the surface.

‘Happy Christmas.’ She said with another kind smile, nodding down at the lego Christmas tree on the side table. ‘Did you build that with Tony?’

You shook your head as fear constricted your heart. You knew Jarvis had found a loophole in his instructions to even get you the lego in the first place.

‘You built it yourself? That’s impressive.’ She commented. You let out a shaky exhale at her reassurance. Her head tilted imperceptibly, but you felt her sudden confusion.

‘Do you need help Agent Romanoff?’ You stumbled unsurely, gesturing towards the first aid kit.

‘No, that’s okay.’ She assured you, as she started walking towards the nearest bathroom. ‘And you can call me Natasha.’

You didn’t reply, you felt rooted to the spot. You hugged yourself, but you weren’t sure why.

‘You got big plans tonight?’ Natasha called out from the bathroom, leaving the door open as she placed the first aid kit on the sink and began addressing the deep gash above her hip.

You stared at the ground, not wanting to seem intrusive. It wasn’t hard to focus on something else during a conversation. You talked to Jarvis all the time, and he wasn’t even in the room.

‘No.’ You answered quietly. Short answers felt safer.

‘When are Tony and Pepper getting home?’ Natasha asked, pausing to hiss as she wrapped a bandage around her front.

‘Jarvis said a few more weeks.’ You answered promptly.

There was a clatter in the bathroom.

‘Jarvis?’ Natasha asked the ceiling, with forced calm.

The tension in her voice made your stomach flutter with nervousness. Jarvis responded without hesitation.

‘Babysitter protocol is anticipated to last until the 11th of January, but Mr. Stark has not confirmed his return.’

There was an extended silence.

‘Fuck.’ Natasha said quietly. She walked out of the bathroom and back towards you. You felt ashamed, but you weren’t sure why. You held yourself tighter.

‘When was the last time you saw Tony or Pepper?’ She asked you, her eyes scanning you with renewed attentiveness.

You hesitated, trying desperately to remember an instance.

Natasha shook her head, taking your silence as answer enough.

She reached out to touch your shoulder.

You flinched violently and startled backward in alarm.

Natasha’s shock was obvious.

You stared down at the ground as you started to cry.

‘Sorry.’ You whispered. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I wasn’t trying to hurt you.’ Natasha told you gently. You were too scared to meet her eyes.

‘I know.’ You assured her as you tried to brush away your tears. ‘It’s me. I’m dangerous.’

The silence extended out again.

Natasha broke it with a renewed certainty in her tone.

‘You’re coming with me.’ She decided quietly. ‘And then, I’m calling Tony.’

You fought an instinctive sense of elation as deep-rooted worries floated up inside you.

‘Y/N is not permitted to leave the apartment without Director Fury or Mr. Stark.’ Jarvis supplied immediately, voicing the most obvious problem.

‘My clearance is higher than Director Fury’s.’ Natasha noted in her deceptively passive voice.

‘Correct.’

‘Only seems logical that I should have the same authority.’ Natasha concluded. ‘I do also represent Shield.’

Jarvis didn’t answer.

Suddenly, the elevator doors slid open in the corner of the room.

Natasha understood Jarvis' wordless signal as much as you did.

With a delicateness that you didn’t deserve, Natasha took your hand in hers. You started trembling immediately. She didn’t tighten her hold as she led you into the elevator.

‘Everything is going to be okay.’ Natasha murmured, as you descended the tower for the very first time.

You didn’t answer. You wanted to believe her more than anything.

TBC

Tagging:

@whofan88 @lostandsearching @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @xxromanoffxx @b-5by5 @peggycarter-steverogers @iblameitonclint @natasha-danvers @reminiscingtonight @mindofwesley @blackxwidowsxwife @wandaromanova @wandavixen @peabrain112 @theperfectlovestory @wellsayhelloaagin @owloftheshadows @wickedmuses @strangegardentaco @hallecarey1 @marvels-writings @alexzz13 @ic-4u @007giuliastonem @natashabelovas @iliketozoneout @chasethemoon @p0orbaby @tastetherambeau @rightwereyouleftme @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday @whataloadof @fxckmiup @333hhm @women-am-i-right

Tags

natasha romanoff x reader natasha romanoff black widow avengers x reader avengers imagine avengers fic natasha romanoff imagine adoptive mom!natasha x child!reader

1K notes View Post

seera-li

3 years ago

can we imagine seggsy time with nat and she puts a vibe on your clit but then straddles you so it’s on her aswell…. 😮‍💨

OH YEEEEAAAH

Tags

marvel natasha romanoff x reader thoughts mcu natasha romanoff black widow natasha romanov natasha romanoff x you black widow x reader natasha romanov x reader hor nee ones lmao

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seera-li

3 years ago

pulling your lover closer by the waistband

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 633

[100 Kisses Masterlist] // [Main Masterlist]

Moving out of the compound was one of the best decisions you ever made.

Don’t get you wrong, you loved living with your friends. But after living under the same roof as seven superheroes for over five years, you were ready to rip out your hair. From interrupted date nights to the lack of personal space, all you wanted was some peace and quiet every once and a while.

So when you and Natasha finally tied the knot last year, she brought you out to a lakeside house, surprising you with two matching sets of keys.

Keep reading

Tags

marvel natasha romanoff x reader mcu natasha romanoff black widow black widow x reader natasha romanoff imagine natasha romanova HAHAHAH not Natasha panicking😭😂

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seera-li

2 years ago

OMG HII for slutty Sunday, I've had this thought stuck in my head for so long but basically dom!CEO!Natasha romanoff brings sub!shy!female reader to work and there's cockwarming, use of vibrators AND BASICALLY JUST NAT TEASING R AND DEGRADATION AND PRAISE KFOROFOEIDIDJFJJWOW also r is so innocent and just lets her mistress play with her and I can't get rid of the thought of nat having r kneel beside and table and just plays with her boobs and fucks r's mouth w her fingers *dies* yeah anyway. Horknee.

-Raven <3

Hold Me in Your Lap of Luxury

OMG HII For Slutty Sunday, I've Had This Thought Stuck In My Head For So Long But Basically Dom!CEO!Natasha

Summary: Natasha finds a way to entertain herself at work: you.

Warning: smut, cockwarming, vibrators, praise, degradation, mistress kink, not proofread

A/N: i’m in love with this request so i turned it into a short fic

“Come here,” the redhead says, beckoning you over. She pats her lap as she pulls away from the desk to make space for you. You hesitantly make your way over to her. The woman becomes impatient as she pulls you onto her lap herself.

“Natty,” you start but a sharp look from the woman in front of you has you saying, “mistress?” She hums in return as she ducks her head to scatter kisses across the skin of your neck. Your head falls back slightly to give her more space on her canvas.

You swallow harshly when her hand comes up to grope your chest. You don’t know what to say so you remain silent until the redhead glances up at your flustered expression. “There’s no need to be shy,” she mutters against your skin.

Natasha pulls away to stroke your heated cheek. She leans down to press her lips against your timid ones. Her palm comes up to cup the back of your neck bringing you closer to her. The woman has no rush, simply trying to coax you from your shell.

Her hands run down your sides—you let out a giggle—landing on your hips. Natasha untucks your shirt as her hands run up under it to grope at your chest again. She pulls away to grin at you before gently pushing you off her.

You stare at the woman with wide eyes but quickly become flustered at the sight of the toy in her hand. She beckons you over with a mischievous grin. Her hands come up to your hips, swiftly pulling your pants down as you watch her with blazed cheeks.

“Be a good girl and put this on,” she grins handing you the pretty pink vibrator. You gawk at the woman, lips parted as you struggle to say something. Natasha raises a brow at you silently encouraging you to speak—hoping she’ll get to punish you.

“Here?” you ask timidly, glancing around the office where anyone could come in at any moment. She chuckles at your timidness.

“Where else?” That’s all you needed to hesitantly pull your panties down before you’re interrupted, “keep them on,” she says. You swallow harshly at her command but nod.

Once it’s in, you deal with the discomfort for a moment before you jolt forward, almost falling into your mistress’ arms. “Oh!” you let out as Natasha catches you. You can see the remote in her hand as she controls the vibrations that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Go ahead and kneel for me,” she mutters, pointing to the spot beside her chair. You glance down at the dirty floor before pleadingly glancing up at the woman. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

You have no other choice than to slowly make your way down. The floor is cool against your knees as you stare up at your mistress. She brings a hand down to cup your cheek as she coos at you. “Such a good girl,” she says.

At her praise, you can’t help but buck your hips against the floor, desperate for any sort of friction. “Dirty whore,” she mutters, lightly slapping your cheek. She doesn’t hesitate to bring up the setting on the vibrator, though, reveling in the way you buck against the air.

“Please,” you whine, wanting her to touch you. She tuts at you before turning away from your—as she calls it—pathetic whines. Natasha leaves the high setting on yet ignores your pleas to cum. She knows you will anyway and she’ll take great pleasure in punishing you for it.

When you do cum—without permission—she grins to herself before turning to you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Desperate whore just couldn’t help herself, could she?” she mocks. She chuckles at your tears as you apologize profusely.

“Sorry won’t do it now,” she coos but beckons you up. You’re quick to stand as you shuffle on your feet, afraid of whatever punishment was ahead of you. Natasha pulls you closer to her by the back of your neck. “Naughty girls get punished,” she mutters.

She keeps you there close to her as her fingers come up to your mouth. The redhead pushes in two fingers into your mouth resting against your tongue before they make their way down to trigger your gag reflex. Natasha chuckles at that mercilessly fucking your face before she pulls her fingers away with a trail of saliva.

She watches you attempt to regain your breath as she unbuckles her belt. The woman pulls out her strap which you recognize as the biggest one she has. She pays her lap and you’re quick to straddle her. Natasha pushes aside your panties and guides her strap into your glistening cunt.

“Now, you’re gonna stay here and warm my cock while I finish up, and I’ll deal with you when we get home,” she grins. You don’t know what she has up her sleeve but when her knee starts bouncing you know what it is. She knows the effect she has on you as you notice the subtle smirk on her face as she works.

“If you move your punishment will be even worse.”

🏷: @winters-witch-bitch, @anartistsmuseinlondon, @consciouschunkofmoss, @inluvwithfictionalwomen, @riveravalonsage, @therealvangough

Tags

natasha romanoff smut natasha romanoff x reader natasha romanoff natasha romanoff x fem!reader black widow x reader black widow x you

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seera-li

3 years ago

Words Beneath Your Skin

gif commissioned by: giuliacommissions

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Please do not repost/translate anywhere. Reblogs/Comments are much welcomed ♥

Masterlist || Taglist Blog

Summary: You don’t remember physical intimacy that much. You can’t miss something you can’t recall the last time you had. Except Wanda Maximoff turns out to be a touchy person.

Warnings: me hurting ur feelings cuz when's the last time someone hugged you like this? hm. Also unbeta’d lmao.

Notes: I haven't had someone hug in me in so long I'm pretty sure I would burst into tears.

Count: ~2.3k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You never really noticed it. You've lived so long without it, it's never really occurred to you.

That's how things slip under the radar, after all. You live for so long without something, you end up never thinking about it.

You can't remember the last time someone has held you for longer than a second. You get quick hugs here and there from your friends and your family and kisses on the cheek in passing greetings and farewells.

But shit.

When was the last time you actually physically had someone hold you or hold them?

You weren't even aware of it until you got to know Wanda more. A strange superhero who visited the library for hours on end in a bean chair, watching shows on her laptop.

Nothing had ever really happened—you never wanted to intrude in her space, and she definitely looked like she didn't want anyone to interrupt her.

As you stacked books, you thought about what would bring someone like her to the library so often. It would be much more comfortable to watch shows in the comfort of your own home, wouldn't it?

But you see the things in the news, the things people write about her online, and you think—maybe Wanda Maximoff doesn't feel like she really has a home anywhere because her real home was blown up in the sky.

Maybe people like Wanda Maximoff also need an escape and somewhere quiet to be left alone.

You try to be respectful of that. You never hover or gawk at her. You politely let her know when the library is closing and never linger. If Wanda appreciated any of that, you'd never know as she never said anything or looked at you.

That's fine; you've never been one to stand out anyway.

Until you do. At least to her.

On a sunny day, the paparazzi catches wind of her in the library and huddle around the windows to snap pictures inside. Wanda looks like her world has collapsed once more. People grumble like it's Wanda's fault they can't get any peace and quiet in there—like she's the reason the sun was being blocked from shining inside.

Ridiculous; honestly, you think.

You close the blinds to the library as if it's a very common thing to do during the busiest hour of the day. You ask Wanda to pack up her things, and she does without giving you a fuss but looking somewhat forlorn.

It isn't until you lead her into the staff room with a sofa, a small kitchen to the side, and windows with mosaic glass films covering it. It still allows the light to come in but offers the privacy Wanda just lost.

It's then that Wanda realized you weren't kicking her out and banning her from the library.

"You'll have to stick it out here for a bit. I'm sure the paparazzi will get bored at some point," you shrug. "No one really comes in here except me. The other staff pop in for coffee but everyone else likes to eat at that cafe across the street."

Wanda looks around, her leg and fingers suddenly feeling jittery.

"Thank you," she finally tells you sincerely. "You didn't have to...I'm sure your other customers are upset you closed the blinds."

You roll your eyes. "I'm sure they'll survive a couple hours without the natural light." You stand up and get ready to go back outside. "Vitamin D is overrated anyway."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Something friendly brews between the simple civilian and the superhero. She says she doesn't really see herself as a superhero, though. Superheroes probably haven't killed many people before, even if inadvertently.

Wanda says she's her...just with a little more.

Honestly, you don't really care. You're well aware you don't belong in her world—the world of chaos, training, and preparing for the next time Earth might be threatened.

The only thing you worry about is your building collapsing while you're in it if the Earth ends and your student loans.

"I don't know..." you tell Wanda as she asks if you'd be willing to go to the Compound during the day before your shift starts at the library.

Unfortunately, the paparazzi never did get bored, and they've taken to staking out the area knowing Wanda would come in. Since Wanda had stopped, the paparazzi also stopped.

The idea of meeting other superheroes doesn't really appeal to you. It feels strange and honestly overwhelming.

But when Wanda purses her lips, you relent.

You don't really understand Wanda, and you find yourself not really pushing to endeavor to. You let her set the pace and get to know each other slowly without expectations.

In the back of your mind, you distantly realize that you're not a very physically intimate person, or at least you've become someone who isn't physically intimate anymore.

You remember the days in high school when you used to hold your best friend's hand innocently all the time. The days when you hugged someone boisterously and kisses their cheek.

You wonder what happened.

But Wanda isn't someone who was touchy either.

At least that's what it had seemed like in the beginning. Even though Wanda admitted she liked your company, she had never offered a hug when seeing you.

Until you came to the Compound.

And it was like the privacy of the thick concrete walls and distance from everything else made her feel safer.

A brief hug. Awkward and unsure.

You barely had time to even feel the pressure of her hands and chest before she moved away.

"Was that...is it okay?" She asked, and you almost laughed at how she was asking for permission after hugging you.

"Of course," you smile at her, unsure of what to make of it all.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Brief hugs become regular.

And because they were so brief, it took a long time for them to become less awkward.

There's a certain energy around Wanda. You don't want to say that she's awkward, but she's—antsy.

You only figure out what's exactly wrong when you're having dinner with her and the rest of her friends, and she puts her hand on the space between your shoulders just below your neck.

She lingers.

And when the warmth from her hands seep through your shirt into your skin, you feel your body becomes hot with heat. You can feel her rings pressed into you, and as she applies more pressure from her fingers, moving across your back, you tense to hold the moan in the back of your throat.

Mortification sets in as you realize two things.

One, Wanda was a physically intimate person. Two, you were severely touched deprived to the point that someone just touching your back was setting you off.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The new physical intimacy makes you unsure. A small war rages within you with what you want to do. A part of you wants to touch and be touched by Wanda. The other part of you wants to shirk away.

You don't remember what it feels like to be held by someone for the sake of being held. There's some memory of it vaguely in the back of your mind, but that was a distant memory.

You're lying on the bed with Wanda, reading a book as she watches TV. You notice that she watches a lot of sitcoms. You've asked why and remember her saying it's comforting that so much could happen in one episode, and be all resolved in the end.

Such small insights happen between the two of you. You never really say what's the issue, but the other person seemingly can always read between the lines.

Suddenly, Wanda turns on her side as she scoots up against you, her arm over your stomach and leg hooking over yours. Her cheek is pressed against your shoulder as she continues to stare at the TV.

Your body does that weird thing where it clenches up, and you immediately begin to feel sweaty.

How was it possible for someone to be so warm?

And soft.

Occasionally, Wanda's hand would drift over yours when she held you, and you hadn't realized someone could be so gentle to touch.

There's another realization that there's an intimacy of knowing someone when they hold you because you also know what she smells like chai and orange blossoms.

You don't know what to do with that information.

All you know is that there's a lump in the back of your throat as you try to focus back on your book. She strokes your side and the top half of your thighs, and you swallow harshly.

When Wanda feels you beginning to tremble, she stops and looks at you with concern.

"Are you okay?" She asks slowly as she sits up, still touching you.

You were totally losing your marbles in front of Wanda, and the entire thing is mortifying.

Her tone is so gentle and caring, and you felt your eyes burn.

"I don't know," you bite out, and it's true. You want to say yes, but you also want to say no.

Wanda stares at you a long time as you stubbornly stare at your book even when your eyes feel wet.

You feel Wanda pull away, and despite your unsureness, that feels even worse.

"If don't want to be touched, you can just say so," Wanda tells you gently with no malice or hurt behind her words and tone. But she sounds insecure, and that makes you want to really break out into a sob.

And although the book is your only shield from Wanda seeing total vulnerability, you close it and set it aside on her night table.

"I know," you tell her stiffly as you put your hands in your lap. "It's not that I don't want to. It's just—it's been a while since someone has touched me the way you do."

You pick at the invisible cotton on your pants.

"It's just...it feels overwhelming—to be this close to someone. I both want it and don't want it." You purse your lips the moments the words came out of your mouth. "Well, I feel like I don't want it because—I don't know—it feels like it's too good to be true."

Wanda watches as you stumble over your words as you subtly try to dab your eyes before you look up at the ceiling disinterestedly, but she knows it's just so the tears will go back in.

It's a daunting realization for Wanda that you're touched-deprived. Despite the devastating life Wanda has lived, she's always has been a touchy person and received a lot of affections in her life—mostly by her parent, then Pietro, and occasionally, Natasha will indulge her in linking arms when they watch movies together.

Slowly, as if to let you know you can say no at any time, Wanda moves back with her arm and leg over you and pulls you closer.

You're pressed into her body, head on her shoulder as she strokes your back and pulls the blanket over the two of you in a warm cocoon.

Wanda thinks you appreciate that she doesn't say anything. She just sits there and resumes watching TV as you close your eyes.

Wanda replays every memory and every interaction she's had with you since befriending you. Your distance makes sense, and it's sad. It kind of breaks her heart.

It's been a while since Wanda has felt any sort of determination, but she wants her touch to be comforting to you. You're so lovely, and Wanda thinks she's falling for the girl who's given her shelter at the cost of depriving others of natural Vitamin D.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You think Wanda has been very attentive to you lately. Maybe something shifts, but you're not really sure. All you know is that Wanda is working her touch into your daily life. It's holding hands, it's long hugs, and cuddling you at the end of the day and in the mornings before you go.

But the moment things really changed? That was when Wanda pulled your arms to wrap around her, and the experience of holding Wanda Maximoff is vastly much different than being held by her.

You like it. You come to like both, and it isn't long that you find yourself biting your own tongue to stave the craving of wanting her touch.

Wanda watches you with interest as she lies on top of you as you play with the ends of her hair.

You seem rather frustrated for some unknown reason and also perplexed by your emotion.

When you let out a quiet huff, Wanda smiles.

"Is there something you need?" She asks.

You pause from tugging on her hair as you move your eyes down look at Wanda, who's lying on your chest.

You're antsy again.

You like her touch, that much you know. You like the weight of her body over yours because it feels reassuring.

"I don't know," you answer honestly.

Wanda adjusts herself so that her face hovers over yours and your eyes follow hers.

"More or less?" She asks.

It takes you a minute, but you answer a hesitant, "more, I think."

Wanda hums with a nod as her hands move under your back, and she holds you closer to her. "Let me show you and you can decide if you want more."

Wanda leans down, and when her soft lips press against yours, your nerve-endings light up with a jolt. She kisses you the way she has always shown you intimacy—slow and steady.

You press back, wrapping your arms around her neck without hesitation.

When Wanda pulls back, you mutter, "more. Definitely more."

You've gone so long without it; you've never really noticed. But Wanda makes you notice everything at every time. You're not sure how you could've missed it.

But perhaps this is how Wanda Maximoff loves. Slow, steady, rapacious as she stares at you.

Her eyes shine with devotion, and you like that her lips are warm too when she kisses you everywhere.

She's good at physical intimacy, that much you're sure of. Under her slow hands, you're determined that perhaps you can be the one to show her emotional intimacy for the girl you've fallen for.

Tags

ahhhhhh wanda maximoff x reader wanda maximoff x y/n wanda maximoff x you avengers imagine wanda maximoff imagine wanda maximoff fluff wanda maximoff fanfiction elizabeth olsen x reader

2K notes View Post

seera-li

3 years ago

HI HAPPY NEW YEAR- mediocre nat and r having a night out and r saying goodbye after nat drops her off but not saying she loves her and nat is like ?? hello??

hello thats very cute and in character but i am so tired ive been ready to collapse for like over a day so whatever tf im writing after this is what ur getting

This Friday date night goes a lot better than Nat's McDonald's fuckery from last week. You take her to that bar she likes near work, paying for the french fries you shared and the first two rounds. There was some game playing on the TV that you don't really follow but Nat clearly does because she laughs every time one of the teams fails. You don't think she really has a sports team she roots for and she admits she just picks the one with nicer uniforms to care about anytime sports comes on the TV.

When her team of the night wins, she plants a kiss on you that has someone at the bar hollering. You wince when she pulls away to glower at the man.

After that, you'd looped your arm around hers and you'd had a nice walk through the park. Skipped rocks in the pond. She had done a better job. In character, of course, but annoying nonetheless.

Tomorrow, she leaves for a mission, so she has to head to the tower tonight to pack up her gear and you've got an empty house for the foreseeable future.

It's sad.

You spend the car ride to your house gripping her hand and staring at the streetlights. Nat turns up the radio and taps the steering wheel to the beat of the song.

Nat leaps out of the car the moment she pulls into your driveway while you twist around to grab your tote bag from the backseat. When Nat comes and opens your door for you, you smile and take her hand.

Still, there's a sense of melancholy falling over you already. You sigh for the fifteenth time tonight and Nat just squeezes your fingers.

"I'll be back before you know it," she says into your shoulder while you fish your keys out of your bag.

"Now I have to take the bus to work," you say, sullenly.

"Tony would probably get you a car service if you asked."

You huff. Sometimes, you can't tell if she's fucking with you or if she's really that dense. One of the downsides of how casual the two of you are with each other, how often you poke fun at each other.

"What?" she huffs when you stomp to the living room to throw your bag on the couch.

"Now I have to fuck myself if I get horny." You spin quickly to glower at her. "And don't even say anything about Tony. We both know you'd probably commit some sort of atrocity if I ever did that just because you're emotionally constipated."

Nat scowls too. "Pot kettle black much."

The both of you squint at each other for a few long moments before you give in--always you first--and cross the distance to where she's leaning in your doorway.

Nat watches, impassive, as you pick up her hands. Lets you tug her closer to your body. "You know I own a cellphone, right?"

"Phone sex?" you mumble into her shoulder. "On the job?"

You can basically hear her eye roll. "No. You are so not getting off while I'm gone. But you don't have to act like I've got a terminal illness just because I'm going on a business trip."

Business trip. As if her business trip isn't some life-endangering superspy mission in god-knows-where, Europe, involving superhumans and, like, missiles.

"Come on," she says, pulling back so she can bump your chin up with your linked hands. "Send me pictures of your meals or whatever the hell normal people do."

"You'd just leave me on read," you grumble.

"I'll send you pictures of MREs so you can ignore me too." She's aiming for levity.

You are too down in the dumps to do anything but force a tiny smile and lean in for a quick kiss. She has to go soon. Too soon.

Nat tilts her head to catch your eyes. There's a hint of concern on her face. "Back before you know it."

"Don't break into my house again," you say, hoping your smile is more convincing this time. She's a superhero. No need to worry about a clingy girlfriend.

"No promises." She presses in for another kiss before stepping back, releasing your hands. "Bye, baby."

"Okay," you say with a heaving sigh, leaning on your door. Usually, you would watch her get in her car, wave at her through the window, and then disappear down the street.

Today, Nat does not move an inch. Looks at you expectantly.

She raises her eyebrows. "...bye."

You frown. "Bye?" you say slowly.

Still, she waits.

"Don't die," you offer. No movement. "...I would be sad."

Nope.

"I might even cry."

"Jesus," Nat growls out, spinning on her heel and storming off your porch. She's actually mad. You can tell.

You fumble with the door, making sure it's unlocked, before chasing after Nat. She's already at the wheel by the time you're knocking on her window.

She gives the wheel a look so searing, you're surprised it still has the gall to exist. Then, she rubs at her eye with an aggravated fist. Then, the window rolls down and she looks over at you with a tired look.

"What did I do?" you ask immediately, hands curling over the car door.

"Nothing."

You reach out to touch her cheek, something inside your chest aching something fierce when she flinches. "Nat," you say softly, voice thin from how much this hurts. Unexpected hurt, really. Pot kettle black, indeed. "Come on."

"I," she starts, stops to wince, continues with more gusto: "I will miss you."

"I'll miss you too," you reply quickly, hand tilting her face to look more fully at you. "If you died, I think I would never recover."

"I won't die," she murmurs into your palm, eyes pinned on you now.

"Promise?"

Nat smiles, a small roll to her eyes. "Sure, I promise."

"Okay." You nod, tipping onto your toes and tugging her face in to meet you in a chaste kiss. "I love you, okay? If you break your promise, I'll kill you."

Nat looks at you like you've hung the moon and the stars in the sky. Disguised, of course, by a wry shake of the head. "Haven't broken a promise to you yet. Won't start now. But also that made no sense."

"Get off my property, truther."

Nat grins, then, yanks you in for another hard kiss before letting you back up a few steps.

Her taillights disappear around the bend. Your heart feels heavy in your chest. She'll be back before you know it.

Tags

marvel natasha romanoff x reader the avengers mcu natasha romanoff natasha romanov x reader natasha romanova straight up crying from happiness or from pain who knows

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seera-li

3 years ago

You be out here making me soft😭 This is really sweet, I appreciate it💕🥺

HAPPY FANFIC WRITERS APPRECIATION DAY!!!!!

I want to thank all of you wonderful writers that share your amazing works with us. I hope that you all know how much happiness & joy that you have given to me & I’m sure so many others. Getting to read your fantastic stories have put so many smiles on my face & have made my days so much brighter. I’m sending out love to all of you, REALLY THANK YOU ALLL FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART!!!! You are all FABULOUS!!!!! Here are some of the terrific writers that I have read from this past year,

@thorfanficwriter @what-is-your-plan-today @bolontiku @tilltheendwilliwrite @wordynerdygurl @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @sagechanoafterdark @jewels2876 @jobean12-blog @that-damn-girl @jay-and-dean @roonyxx @denisemarieangelina @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @the–sad–hatter

@americancowgirl19 @anathewierdo @angrythingstarlight @beccaanne814 @beyondspaceandstars @bitsandbobsandstuff @bonkywobble @buckstaybucky @buckybarnesdiaries @buckycuddlebuddy @buckysknifecollection @bugsbucky @callmeluna @carryonmywaywardcaptain @chevyharvelle @crispychrissy @cuddles-with-bucky @datfandombitch @elatedmarvel @fandom-basurero @fangirlovestuff @hannahshattuck @helloimanavenger @high-functioning-lokipath @honeyloverogers @howlingmedic @imagine-assembling-the-avengers @imaginedreamwrite @imagining-supernatural @just-the-hiddles @katymacsupernatural @ladytodd @lokibug @loki-hargreeves @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @luci-in-trenchcoats @magellan-88 @marvelgirl7 @mostly-marvel-musings @navybrat817 @original-wintersoldier @percywinchester27 @plus-size-reader @samwilsons-pillowpecs @shield-agent78 @shy-violet-soul @smediumsmeatbae @specialagentlokitty @spinsterlocity-writes @starlight-loki @starlightcrystalline @supernaturallymarvelous @sunflowerxbarnes @sunriserose1023 @talesmaniac89 @thatfangirl42 @the–blackdahlia @the-emo-asgardian @theycallmebecca @tuiccim @thinkinghardhardlythinking @twittytelly @vodka-and-some-sass @waiting4inspiration @waywardnerd67 @whisperlullaby @world-of-aus @writingfromkitchenator @writingsoftheloser @why-did-i-write-this @xbuchananbarnes

And I hope that if you haven’t check out their work you do, I’d highly recommend them & so many others on here. It would take forever to list all the wonderful & talented writers on here, but I really want to thank each & every one of you that post on here, because you have given me so much joy!!! All of