Not sure if this is crap or not... Hope ya like it x
@gwenzone @weemssapphic @theswordmaiden
been actively avoiding posting this but fuck it , modern au time ( i just wanted to draw hux in a tweed suit jacket)
anyways, this thing took me two-ish weeks to finish cus 70% of the way through finishing it i scrapped phas and hux's pose and redid it from scratch, so if you want to see that here's the link for it + alt colors
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Mutant!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Summary: You meet a pretty woman in a bar...
Word count: 3787
AN: Please enjoy the long-awaited finale!
Click here for Part 3!
Natasha tears after you, light-headed from the sudden change in emotions. She can barely keep up with you down the hall until you suddenly screech to a halt, holding your arm out to block her from going further.
“Y/N–”
“Shh,” you hiss, your hands clenching into fists, the silver, razor-sharp claws bursting out of your knuckles. “Wait here.” You slip silently around the corner and Natasha holds her breath in wait. She hears a man cuss, then the muted blast of a gun, and she cringes when she sees splinters fly from the wall. There’s a few thuds and cut off screams and you suddenly pop back, blood on your hands and the front of your shirt.
“I definitely ruined the professor’s curtains,” you say with a heavy sigh. “Let’s go the other way. Stay close. They’re only here for you.”
Natasha hates being reminded that she is the reason for this chaos and bloodshed, but she knows it’s the truth and you probably didn’t mean to remind her so brashly. She grabs onto the back of your shirt, tailing you closely, her heart beating in her throat.
“We need to find Storm. Or Jean. Or anyone, really,” you explain, not sure why there hadn’t been a better plan for this inevitable scenario. But you follow your nose, although the air is now muddled with unfamiliar scents. You’re careful to use all your senses to stay on high alert, but it seems like the Red Room agents have learned a thing or two from your past encounters.
A thick white smoke fills the second floor of the mansion and you grope behind you for Natasha’s hand in desperation. You duck into a room.
“Get the windows open,” you tell Natasha. “As wide as you can.”
“Are we going to jump?” she asks fearfully.
“No. But Storm can get a nice breeze in here to push out the smoke.”
Natasha doesn’t question you further but struggles to open the stiff latches of the old windows. You come over to help her, waving plumes of smoke towards the open screens.
“Let’s keep moving.” You make your way through two more rooms uninterrupted. Outside, the sky has taken an ominous gray tone and a powerful wind rips through the trees. “Hey Nat, we should–”
But the moment you turn around and see Natasha being held at gunpoint by a Widow you lose all control. Four male soldiers funnel into the room, blasting lead slugs into your chest and stomach. You don’t even have to unleash your claws as you slump to the ground with a loud thump, your arms accidentally pinning underneath you. You wheeze raggedly, your body pounding in agony.
“Y/N!” Natasha screams as the Widow drags her out of the room.
Blood leaks out of your mouth as you try to push yourself up, but your body is too weak to cooperate. The three soldiers run up to you, punching and kicking every inch of you they can reach. You curl into a ball as best as you can, humiliated by your inability to fight back. And you’ve lost Natasha.
“This is for Antonov!” one of the soldiers shouts as he stomps on your head, leaving an imprint of his boot on your cheek. Pain rattles in your head and you can’t even breathe, trying to wait for a break, but they don’t let up.
“You’re a fucking mutant, aren’t you?” Someone grabs your hair and wrenches your head back. You spit a spray of blood and saliva in defense and he leaps back, cursing and kicking. You hear a shotgun reload again, squirming on the floor to free your arms. “Stop moving so I can put you down like the animal you are.”
You’re not sure how well you’ll take another gunshot at this close range, but you’re about to find out. You close your eyes and brace yourself.
Suddenly, you hear four different screams and feel an immense heat singing the back of your neck. You crack your eyes open to see familiar red laser beams sweep across the room, knocking the soldiers into the walls. Scott stands in the doorway, shoving his glasses back on as he surveys the damage.
“Y/N, are you okay?” You feel Jean’s hands on your back as she helps you up.
“Nat,” you groan. “Where’s Nat?”
“I thought she was with you,” Scott says.
“No,” you grunt. “They took her.” As you stand, the pain in your gut is more obvious than ever and you almost crumple back to the ground, but Scott comes forward to steady you.
“We’ll find her,” he says, and despite the differences the two of you have always had, you know you can count on him.
“Go find her,” you say, clutching at your stomach as you feel one of the slugs trying to push its way out of your body. “I’ll catch up.”
“We’re not going to leave you, Y/N,” Jean says.
As frustrating as it is that your teammates won’t leave you, you know they’re coming from a good place. “Okay,” you resign, taking your first unsteady step. “Let’s go.”
***********************************************************************
Natasha feels totally helpless as the Widow drags her away from you. Out in the hall, a group of them swarm her, handcuffing her hands behind her back and forcing her to walk with a hunch, facing the floor as if she doesn’t already know the surroundings. The Widows form a diamond around her, like they would a prisoner, and she wants to laugh at the irony.
“I know none of you have any control over what you’re doing, but please don’t do this–” she starts.
“Shut up, traitor,” a Widow says in Russian, thumping Natasha hard on the back of her head. “Dreykov is waiting at home to kill you himself.”
“After he has some fun with her first,” another one adds and a chuckle spreads through the group as dread turns Natasha’s stomach into knots.
They force her down a staircase, kicking open a door and dragging her outside. The weather is violent, a complete 180 from how it had been when they had just been watching the students take off in vans. Natasha had been curious how exactly Ororo’s powers worked, but it was obvious they were in full effect now. The wind picked up in great gusts that had the Widows ducking down to their knees, unable to stand at full height without being bowled over. Natasha dropped to her stomach, curling up as the wind spun around them.
“Hey, she’s one of ours!” She hears a man with a Russian accent boom. Fearing a fight will break out between the Widows and the Wolf Spiders, she hunkers into a tight ball and hopes they don’t try tearing her in half. But then she hears the Widows scream and scatter, and peeks up to see Peter, the enormous man she had met previously, his entire body covered in a coating of metal, effortlessly picking up the Widows and throwing them far out into the driveway. Kitty is here too and Natasha swears she’s seeing things when she blinks and Kitty dives through a Widow, turning around and slamming the confused spy onto the ground.
There’s another young man here that Natasha doesn’t immediately recognize. He drops to his knees and splays his hand on the ground, shooting out crackling beams of ice that encase the soldiers’ and stop them in their tracks.
“We got you, Nat!” Marie is suddenly by Natasha’s side and helps her up. A Widow staggers towards them, but Marie strips off her glove with her teeth and grabs onto the Widow’s exposed hand with her own. The Widow freezes and gasps, tensing up like a board and flopping back onto the ground. “Bobby, over here!”
The boy who could make ice appear out of thin air jogs over and Natasha guesses this must be Marie’s boyfriend. He shadows her and Marie protectively, freezing any of the soldiers that get too close to them.
“Thank you, thank you,” Natasha says, impressed and a little shocked by the powers of these teenagers. Marie and Bobby lead her back into the mansion while Peter and Kitty handle the rest of the Widows. “Have you seen Y/N?” she asks Marie, panic filling her when she thinks about the last time she saw you.
Marie shakes her head. “Don’t worry about Y/N. She’ll be fine. Besides, she told us that we were supposed to protect you at all costs.”
Natasha wants to cry when she hears this. She can’t think of anything she’s done in her life to deserve someone like you.
Peter and Kitty rush back into the mansion and shut the door.
“Nat, turn around,” Kitty instructs and Natasha obeys with some confusion. She feels Kitty wrap her hands around the handcuffs and push down; suddenly there is a clatter and Natasha feels her wrists completely freed.
“How did you–”
Kitty waves her off. “All part of being a superhero,” she says with a wink.
“We have to move. They’ll find another way in,” Peter says, moving large pieces of furniture in front of the doors.
“Well, they did just get their asses handed to them by a bunch of teenagers, so maybe that’ll make them think twice–” Kitty says.
“We can’t hold them off forever, so what do we do now?” Bobby asks.
“You’ve all done enough.” Everyone whips around to see Professor Xavier roll into the hall, closely accompanied by Ororo. “I see the Danger Room training has been of great use,” Professor Xavier notes. “Excellent job, everyone.”
There is a loud crash from the top of the staircase. Natasha’s heart leaps when she sees you again at the top, although Jean’s arm is around your waist to help you down the steps and a feral pulse of jealousy shoots through her. Natasha runs over and takes the stairs two at a time to push Jean out of the way and take her place next to you.
“I’m fine, Nat, I’m fine,” you insist as she surveys you for any injuries. While you’ve mostly recovered, you are secretly enjoying the doting, even though it’s not really the time for it. You let Natasha help you to the bottom of the stairs, feeling Jean’s cold gaze on your backs but for once relishing in her jealousy.
“Maybe I should just give myself up,” Natasha says suddenly, her fingers tightening in your side.
“No!” you respond. “Absolutely not.” You would fight the Red Room agents until your entire body gave out if you had to.
“No one is going anywhere,” Professor Xavier says, and you relax a little when he takes control.
“But Professor–” Scott starts, and you’re going to smack him upside the head if he suggests that Natasha sacrifice herself.
“One moment. No one move.”
Natasha presses closer to you and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in anticipation. You can smell the blood, sweat, and fear as the Red Room soldiers traverse through the empty halls in search of your group. They’ll be bursting in any minute.
“Y/N,” Natasha whimpers and you quiet her by holding her closer to your body.
“Watch,” you tell her just in time as everyone hears the clamor of armed men and women run into the foyer. But they all freeze mid-movement, guns raised but trigger fingers straight. You can move freely and you leave Natasha to walk up to one, staring down the barrel of his shotgun with a smirk. “Not so cocky now, are we?” you say, even though you know he can’t hear you. Purely out of spite, you release your claws and slash his gun in half.
“Y/N!” Scott admonishes.
“Sorry, it slipped,” you respond.
Professor Xavier’s eyes are screwed shut, his concentration deep as he holds all the Red Room soldiers still. “You will return where you came from,” he says. “You will tell your leader that Natasha Romanoff was not here. You will look elsewhere and you will forget everything you saw here today.”
Natasha feels like she’s in a trance herself as she listens to the professor’s calm voice wash over her. She sees the glazed looks in the Wolf Spiders’ and Widows’ eyes. What kind of power does the professor have to control them like this? She shudders at the thought of what he could do if he wasn’t on their side.
“Now go.” With Professor Xavier’s final words, the Red Room soldiers snap out of their stupor.
The soldier holding half a gun stares at it in pure shock, then looks back at your face.
“You heard the man,” you snap and he drops the remainder of his gun, spinning around, frantically searching for an exit. There is a stampede as they funnel out the windows and front door that Peter has wrenched open once more. All of you wait until the last Widow darts across the driveway, retreating to their armored tanks and peeling away.
“Couldn’t have done that from the beginning, Professor?” you comment as all of you crowd in the double doorways to watch them flee. The sky brightens back up courtesy of Storm, the sudden winds and darkness earlier drifting away.
“You were all getting a little too comfortable around here,” Professor Xavier teases. “Now Marie, if you’d be so kind as to get the cleaning supplies from under the kitchen sink, I think Y/N has some curtains to clean–”
“Oh hell,” you mutter, as everyone laughs.
***********************************************************************
Life at the school quickly returns to normal the following week. Any damage done by the X-Men or the Red Room agents is quickly repaired and the students are none the wiser of the true reason for their impromptu weekend getaway. And once everything is settled and well, you and Natasha can finally pick back up where you had left off.
She has you pinned to the bed, her lips frantic and demanding on yours, as her fingers make quick work of the buttons on your shirt. Your head spins as you’re overwhelmed by her scent and taste, jogging your hips up to show her how desperate you are for her. You’re not usually one to beg, but you absolutely mean it when you say you’ll do anything for Natasha Romanoff.
She yanks open your shirt and flattens her palms on your chest, pushing you down harder into the mattress as she leaves a hot trail of kisses across your face and down your neck. The marks she leaves there heal almost instantly and she grumbles in frustration.
“What’s wrong, Nat?” you ask, squeezing her sides.
“You heal too fast,” she says, her cheeks tinging pink.
“It’s okay. Everyone here knows I’m yours.” You hear her heartbeat pick up when you say this.
“Mine?” she says.
“All yours, darling.”
Gone is the shy, hesitant demeanor the first time you and her were in bed. Natasha takes the lead with a stunning amount of confidence, removing her own shirt and tossing it somewhere in the corner of your room. You swallow hard when you see her exposed flesh, marred with a few faded scars that you want to trace and kiss.
“It’s okay,” she whispers, so quietly you’re not even sure if you heard correctly or you were imagining it. “You can touch me.”
But you hesitate, reminded of the damage you’ve caused and the lives you’ve taken with your bare hands. Natasha is too pure for you and you’re afraid to ruin her by keeping her in your life. And no matter how much you like her, you don’t know if it’s the right choice to stick around with her.
“Y/N,” Natasha says. “It’s okay.”
“Are you sure?” you reply, your hands frozen to where they are on her waist. “Are you sure you want to…be with me?” You hate how nervous you sound, but you’ve never been around someone who’s given you so many butterflies before.
“Of course.” Natasha grabs onto your hands with hers, interlacing your fingers together. “You’re the first person who showed me I was worthy of being comfortable and safe and…loved.” Your heart beats harder. “I only want to be with you because I trust you and I know you’ll take care of me.”
“Nat…” It takes a lot to get you emotional, and now you feel yourself embarrassingly getting choked up.
“I love you,” she says, her own voice choking. “And I want to show you how much I love you.”
If you had any doubts before, you don’t now. Both of you remove the remainder of your clothing and you moan when Natasha rests her bare center on your abs and rocks back and forth. The heat against your skin is intoxicating, almost as much as the smell, and you’re tempted to ask her to sit on your face until her legs are shaking.
But Natasha seems to be taking the lead with some other plans, grabbing your hands again and bringing them to her breasts.
“I said it was okay if you touched me,” she reminds you with a wink.
“O-Okay,” you stammer, can’t remembering the last time you were this flustered in bed with someone. But the moment is so intimate and exciting, you don’t want to be the one to mess it up. Natasha looks down at you and surveys your body in what you can only describe as lust, and you are secretly thrilled you can make her just as happy as she makes you. You roll your fingers over her nipples until they stiffen and she pants at the attention, her arousal heightening. She holds onto your forearms, squeezing them experimentally as if she can feel your claws housed there, then she leans forward and to grasp onto your biceps.
An added effect of the metal on your bones meant you were carrying around an additional 200 pounds of weight. While your rapid healing prevented you from completely tearing apart each time you moved, it also kept you in peak physical condition, something Natasha seemed very appreciative of right now.
Natasha grinds harder on your stomach, the stickiness of her center more apparent than ever, and you can’t deny yourself any longer. You let go of her breasts to put your hands firmly on her hips again.
“Scoot back, babe. I want to feel you,” you say, delighting in her increased heartbeat. With your hands as guidance, Natasha shimmies her body back until her center is almost above yours. You bend her left leg across your stomach so she can sit at a more comfortable angle. The moment she lowers herself and her heat touches yours, you feel like you’re going to melt into the mattress.
“Oh fuck,” Natasha moans, her arms shaking as she braces herself on your abs and thigh.
“Does that feel good?” you ask, pushing her hips in a gentle rocking motion. You wonder if Natasha can feel the way you’re throbbing against her the way she is against you. The stimulation is so incredible, you’re worried you won’t last much longer and then the moment will be over.
Natasha can only nod as she tries moving her hips faster, but you force her to slow down and savor the moment.
“F-Fuck, Y/N,” she pants, digging her nails harder into your skin.
“Look at me. Hold my hand,” you demand, offering her one of your own and she squeezes it tightly, shifting her eyes to yours with a little bit of nervousness, but mostly trust and love. “It’s okay,” you assure her. “I got you.”
“Thank you,” she whispers back. You roll your hips to match her rhythm, all your thoughts and worries quietly drifting from your head as you focus on your moment with Natasha. You separate your legs a little wider so she can press her center harder against yours, her wetness and yours creating a slick surface for her to ride on, your entire body buzzing with a rush of adrenaline and endorphins.
“Just like that,” you guide. “That’s my good girl.” Natasha looks so perfect sitting atop of you, riding you with determination to satisfy you. Your clit throbs when Natasha brushes against it and you can tell she’s close from the way her breathing becomes more and more uneven. But you don’t even care about your own release anymore. You just want her to feel good.
“I…I think I’m gonna–” But Natasha can’t even get the words out as she cums, in too much ecstasy to even vocalize the pleasure you’ve brought her. You keep moving your hips, so turned on by Natasha’s reaction that it sends you to your own peak. The bliss is so overwhelming you go limp on the bed, and when you finally calm down, you find Natasha curled up on your chest, her face tucked into the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around her, almost crushing her against you and she whispers for you to hold her closer.
***********************************************************************
“This is nice,” Natasha says as the two of you stand on the balcony. A strange game of volleyball is going on with one student duplicating himself to play on both sides, and another with an enormous pair of what she can only describe as angel wings, flies high into the air for a deadly spike.
“Yeah, it is,” you agree, tightening your arms around her waist from behind.
“I know they aren’t looking for me, per se, but I know this bubble of safety won’t last forever,” she says.
“Nat, I told you, you’ll always be safe with me.”
“I know.” She turns around in your arms to look at you. “That’s why I want you to come with me.” You tilt your head in confusion. “We’re going to find where the Red Room is, and take them down from the inside.”
“No one knows where the Red Room is,” you say, not realizing how dumb it sounds when you remember the kind of people you have on your side. “I mean, I’m sure the professor could pull some strings and…” You pause. “That’s way too dangerous, Nat.”
“Will you come with me?”
You think it’s a silly idea to track and take down an entire organization infamous for producing deadly spies and soldiers. But you know how important this is to Natasha. Maybe you could even talk some of the others into coming for backup, but you know her mind is already set, whether or not you accompany her.
“Of course I will.” You kiss her in confirmation, loving the way she seems to melt in your arms every time you touch her. “Whenever you’re ready.”
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AN: A happy ending as promised!
I would absolutely love to continue writing this AU, so maybe I'll come by soon with something. Thanks for reading! Please leave likes, comments, and reblogs! 🥰
Crowley fell into depression
“We’ve begun to raise daughters more like sons… but few have the courage to raise our sons more like our daughters.”
- Gloria Steinem, feminist, journalist and activist
Source
"the writer's strike could stop the MCU from making new movies for months!" fuck dont dirtytalk me like that. it's only 9:34 am
No because I would redo school just to go to Nevermore. For obvious reasons. Given that Weems is there. Gosh I'm a slut.
ouuu the main course is where it’s at
Well that explains a lot.
A fem and her masc.
angela bassett is MOTHER