Kat

what is good doesn’t always get the recognition it deserves. it’s sad, but true. just because you haven’t - or possibly never take - off in fandom doesn’t mean your work isn’t astounding and beautiful, it doesn’t mean you should stop writing; it just means that a very select corner of the internet missed the diamond in the rough. 

fanfiction is flooded with content, there are so many of us out there producing it these days, and having a fic that takes off is almost as much about luck as it is about talent. never let a few artificial numbers on the internet dictate to you what is and isn’t worthy writing. 

additionally, you don’t have to read or enjoy fics just bcs they’re big. i cannot count the amount of times i’ve read the first paragraph of something fandom adores and immediatly exited out of it.

just… do what makes you happy. write what you wanna write, read what you wanna read. understand that while we all want recognition - and some deserve it more than others - we did not get into fanfiction for that recognition.

Part 4

AN: Not sure if y’all are going to upset with me or not after reading this. But I’m really happy with how this turned out! Shout out to @sweetmissnothing​ for reading and revising!! 

Paring: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, conversations around sex

Summary: When your babysitter cancels last minute, you have no choice but to bring you daughter with you to your college class. There, you daughter seems to catch the attention of your hot redhead professor.

Words: 3.6k

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“Going to the zoo! Going to the zoo!” Stella sings, running excitedly all over the apartment as you chase after her to get her dressed. You had gotten yourself ready before going after your daughter. 

“We can’t go to the zoo until you get dressed.” You tell her gently, you have to hold back a laugh as Stella bounds over, and collapses against you sighing as dramatically as she could. Placing your hands under her arms, you tickle her until she’s squirming in your hands. You place a kiss on her hairline, you pick her up and walk to her room to help her get dressed.

“Alright sweetheart, what do you want to wear?” You ask. Stella scrunches up her face, thinking. Whenever your daughter had a hard time making a decision, you found that letting her pick between two options made things a lot easier. This way she wasn’t going to the park in the hand knit sweater grandma got her, that was hand wash only, but still made her feel like she had a choice in her wardrobe.

“Do you want to wear pants or a skirt?” 

“Dress.” The toddler giggles as if she’s getting away with something. You nod, pulling out a few different options and holding them up against her body as if you were a fashion consultant.

“Which dress do you want to wear Miss. Stella?” You put on your best game show voice, which makes Stella burst into laughter. She points her little hand at the blue dress with a skirt full of ruffles and secret pockets that she loved to put things in.

“That’s what I was thinking too.” You say, helping her out of her pajama top, and pull her head and arms through the correct holes. You’d let her dress herself, only the last time she insisted on dressing herself she came out of her room crying. She somehow managed to get her head stuck through one of the arm holes.

You find cream colored leggings for her to wear under her dress. Something that makes Stella whine the entire time. 

“Stella it’s October, you’re going to be cold if you don’t wear them.” You lecture her, giving her a look that Wanda has dubbed, your mom face. 

This placates her and she even lets you help her into her pink sneakers without a single complaint, when you know she’d rather wear flats. Something you immediately said no too. You’d be walking a lot today and you didn’t want to carry Stella the entire time because she didn’t wear the right shoes and her feet hurt.

You let her pick out a glittery headband with a flower on the side, and kiss her cheek in front of the mirror. 

“Now that’s the prettiest princess I’ve ever seen.” You tell her honestly. As you double check the tote bag with everything you needed for the day your phone vibrates with a text.

Laura

I’m so sorry something came up so I can’t go to the zoo, but don’t worry Natasha and Lila will still be there.

You immediately text back that it was okay and not to worry, something close to happiness bubbles up inside of you thinking about being somewhat alone with Natasha.

“Ready to go little duck?” You ask, as you zip up Stella’s sweater, she nods her head and takes your offered hand. 

You buckle Stella in her car seat and get the GPS routed to the zoo. It’s a pleasant 20 minute car ride, you had put in your ABBA’s greatest hits CD and the two of you sang along together. If there was one thing you wanted to instill in your daughter it was good music taste.

As you pull into a parking spot you check the time, 9:55 am, right on time. You walk with Stella to the front gate to wait for Natasha and Lila to meet you there. A few minutes later you see them walking up to you, tucking your phone into your bag, you go to greet them but it’s seem that Stella has you beat.

“Tasha! Lila!” Stella shouts, waving her hand in the air. Lila who was holding hands with her aunt leaves Natasha to go run up and hug Stella. Their blossoming friendship makes you smile and you give a shy wave to the approaching redhead.

“I hope you don’t mind that you’re pretty much stuck with me.” Natasha teases you lightly, the familiarity gives you butterflies. 

“Ehh, there’s worse people I could be stuck with.” You shrug carelessly with the same familiarity. 

“You guys are so slowwww.” Lila says impatiently, still holding hands with Stella. You turn to look at Natasha and roll your eyes, kids. 

“Alright we’re coming.” You call out, grabbing a map from the ticket booth. 

“Ready?” 

“Yessss!” The two girls cheer in unison.

You and Natasha follow behind the girls keeping a careful eye on them, the last thing you needed was another lost kid. This gives you an opportunity to really converse with Natasha. You’re racking your head for something to say, the only good conversations you had with her involved others but that was not here nor there.

You’re wondering if you’re allowed to ask her about her college experience when she brings up the worst topic possible. English class.

“So have you started your easy on Beowulf and whether or not you believe him to be a war hero?” Natasha asks, looking at the lions laying in their enclosure. You’re grateful that she can’t see your face, because the only thing she’d see is hurt.

You stupidly thought that maybe you were getting somewhere, where you weren’t sure but you liked the shift in your relationship. Natasha’s question struck something deep inside of you, maybe it was the fact that maybe you thought she might see you as someone other than her student. 

“Tasha, can you read?” Stella asks, tugging on Natasha’s sleeve. As she reads to Lila and Stella about the habitats of lions, you can’t help but wonder.  Was bringing up your essay Natasha’s way of subtly reminding you that she was still your professor? Did she feel like you needed that reminder?

You find yourself getting close to choked up at the idea, stop this you tell yourself, you can be upset later not now, not in front of the kids, definitely not in front of Natasha.

“Well?” The redhead asks expectantly, tilting her head to the side in question.

You fumble for an answer, to be honest you had completely forgotten about the essay, you hadn’t even started, though you weren’t about to tell her that. 

“Yeah.” You say carelessly. “I mean, I’m still working on it of course, but I -” You trail off when you see Natasha smirking. “What?”

“You haven’t even started, have you?” Natasha says knowingly. 

“I - Well I mean, I -” You scramble to say something, but the woman just laughs and God, you can’t help but think that’s such beautiful sound.

“Don’t worry I’m not going to give you a lecture, don’t think of me as your professor, not when we’re outside the classroom.” She says.

“How should I think of you when we’re not in the classroom?” You dare to ask. You wanted, needed to know how you were supposed to see her, it was a tentative relationship. With Natasha being your professor, she needed the one who implemented the boundaries of whatever this was.

“Do you think you could think of me as a friend, outside of school, of course?” Natasha asks and you swear you see a hint of softness in her eyes. No, you couldn’t see her as just a friend, but if you weren’t allowed to see her as anything else, a friend would have to be enough.

“I already think of you as a friend.” You tell her with a smile, although it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

“I’m honored, really.” Natasha says, giving you a smile back that makes a part of you want to die.

“Auntie Nat, giraffes!” Lila says as if she didn’t see the giraffes immediately the world was going to end. 

“Duty calls.” You joke, the four of you make your way to see the giraffes.

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

As you close the door to your bedroom, you collapse onto your bed completely boneless. Your feet ached and all you wanted to do was take a nap, but thanks to Natasha you were reminded of your Beowulf essay that was due next week. Not only that, but you really should take a shower and you had to make dinner. 

You let out a loud groan into your bed covers, being an adult sucked. Pulling yourself together, you get up and trudge to the bathroom to take a shower. 

You sigh as the hot water hits your back, the steam filling the bathroom and making you feel almost sleepy. You yawn as you scrub your body with your loofah, the smell of peonies and black current. Your mind wanders without your permission to what Natasha was doing. Was she showering the sweat and stress of the day as well? The thought was innocent enough until your mind began to conjure images of Natasha in the shower, naked, hot water pouring down her back. Fuck.

You turn around and fiddle with the shower faucet, until icy cold water hits your skin like hail, down your naked body. Well that helped, sort of.

As you towel dry, you sigh, it had been months since you had sex, even longer since you’d been in a relationship. It wasn’t that you preferred one night stands, it was just easier, no strings attached, and it scratched the itch when you were really desperate. Besides you were opposed to the idea of dating with a kid, that in itself introduced a whole other world of issues.

God you missed sex, Natasha was probably great in bed. Stop it, you tell yourself, you just took a cold shower. Normally you’d just stave off the worst of it with the pink, silicone vibrator that Wanda bought you as a joke. Although in the last couple weeks Stella had developed a habit of crawling into your bed during the night, something you loved but right now it was driving you insane.

However you were horny, like really horny, and you hadn’t been able to get any relief in nearly a month. You really just needed an hour with your vibrator to help take the edge off, but unless you wanted to scar your daughter for the rest of her life, you couldn’t do much.

You call Wanda as you rub lotion into your skin, she picks up immediately.

“I miss sex.” Is the first thing you say.

“Hello to you too.” Wanda says dryly.

“Sorry, it’s just been a while.” You rub your face tiredly, coffee, you needed coffee.

“Dry spell?” Wanda asks.

“You have no idea.” You reply, turning on the little coffee maker in your kitchen.

“How long?”

“Seven months.” You say, slightly embarrassed. You swear you hear Wanda choke in the background, but it’s muffled through the phone so you can’t tell.

“Seven months? Seriously? I haven’t gone that long without sex since I was 17.” Wanda says with disbelief in her voice.

“Don’t need to brag.” You bite back, but with enough levity in your voice that she knows you aren’t all that offended.

“What about barbie? Is she not keeping you good enough company?” Wanda asks after a moment.

Barbie was your vibrator Wanda named it, not you. She insisted on the name due to its bright pink color.

“Please don’t call it that, if anything it makes me more shameful. I thought the whole point of you getting me a vibrator, was that it was supposed to empower me or whatever.” You roll your eyes, pouring milk and creamer into your coffee.

“Barbie not enough?” Wanda says again and you know she’s smirking on her end of the phone.

“Barbie.” You say in a harsh tone “Has been out of commission for a while.”

“Out of commission? How? I thought you said you missed sex?” Wanda asks.

“I said I missed sex, not orgasms, they’re different things and besides…” You take a sip of your coffee, “Stella has been crawling into my bed almost every night for the past month. So I can’t do it, without running the risk of being caught.”

“So do it in the shower.” the Sokovian says easily. It’s a good idea in theory, one you already thought of and tried.

“Have you ever been around a toddler? They’re like koala bears, they follow you everywhere.” You shake your head even though she can’t see.

Just a few days ago you were in the toilet, and Stella sat right outside the door talking to you. Even when you told her you’d just be a minute, she stayed and complained when you took longer than her idea of a minute.

“Koala bears aren’t even bears, they’re marsupials.” Wanda says, then there’s a muffled sound that sounds like laughter.

“Whatever Wands, all I’m saying is that I need sex, badly.” You complain.

“So go to a bar and- TURN THAT DOWN, PIETRO! I’M ON THE PHONE- anyway sorry about that. Where was I? Oh right, if you miss sex so much, why don’t you just go have some?”

“If you’re drowning in the ocean why don’t you just swim?” You mock her warped sense logic.

“What I mean is you’re hot, if you want to get laid it’s not hard. People would trip over themselves to have sex with you.” Wanda says.

“Ugh. Maybe, but who would watch Stella? And how would I even explain to her why I wouldn’t be home?” You rant.

“Me. I’d watch her, and it’s not like you have to spend the night. Just get what you need and leave. You’d be home before midnight.” Wanda offers.

You think it for a moment, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It would scratch the itch and you wouldn’t even miss breakfast. It was at least something to consider.

“Isn’t that a little trashy? Hooking up with someone and just leaving?” You question.

“Maybe a little, Pietro does it enough and he sleeps fine.” Wanda laughs.

“Maybe you’re right, I’ll think about it. Oh, before I forget, have you started that essay? The one on Beowulf?” You ask, plopping down on the couch with your laptop.

“Uh yeah, I actually just finished this morning, why?” There’s a pause. “Oh my god, you haven’t even started have you?” Wanda says accusingly.

“I’m working on it now.” You shrug sheepishly.

“Sure you are.”

“I am!” You say, defensively.

“You still want to go to that Italian restaurant? The one by that new pilates studio? We can even invite Pietro.” Wanda says and you vaguely remember rain checking on her.

You agree easily and even start working on your essay.

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

“Hi, I have a reservation.” You say to the hostess, your eyes flickering around the room. Dim lighting, leaving the little candles on each table to illuminate the restaurant. It has that first date ambiance about it.

“Of course, what name is it under?” The hostess asks, flipping through a clipboard on the stand.

“Maximoff.”

“Found it, right this way.,” She says and you follow her through the restaurant.

“Pietro!” You say when you spot him a few tables away, smiling you come over to give him a hug.

“Ugh it’s been forever. Where’s Wanda? Did she go to the bathroom?” You ask, looking around the room for the familiar redhead.

“She had a last minute emergency, and couldn’t make it.” Pietro says looking apologetic but you wave him off.

“Don’t worry about it.” You shrug out of your jacket and sit down.

“You look nice.”

You blush a bit at the compliment, and then feel pathetic for the rosiness of your cheeks. Has it really been that long since you’d gotten validation, that Pietro telling you that you looked nice was enough to make you blush? God, you really were pathetic.

To your credit you had dressed up a bit, opting to wear a dress instead of jeans. A little black dress with heels, you even put on a bit of makeup. You looked nice, nice enough that Peter even thought you had a date.

Dinner’s wonderful, it has been so long since you’d been out with friends, even if you wished Wanda had been there it was wonderful. Conversation came easy and the food was great. You’re about to suggest dessert when you see her.

It would be impossible to miss Natasha, sitting a mere two tables away facing your direction. For a while you just gape at her, unable to believe it was her. Stop staring at her, you think and manage to force yourself to focus on Pietro, who was giving you a strange look.

“That’s Natasha, Ms. Romanoff. It’s complicated.” You tell him. You expect a flurry of questions from him but instead he just nods thoughtfully.

You sneak a look at Natasha who was sitting with another woman who had blonde hair. Natasha, like you was dressed up, a form fitting wrap dress that hugged her chest.

You take a moment to appreciate the view, her dress showed off more of her chest than you had ever seen and a healthy amount of cleavage, but still you wanted more.

You watched as she laughed at something the blonde had said, watched her lips move to form a smile. Her plump, perfect, kissable lips. You can’t help but think that if she kissed you, her red lipstick would certainly leave a mark.

“Do you want to share the tiramisu?” Pietro asks you, unbothered by the fact that your attention was elsewhere.

“Definitely.” You tell him and go right back to staring at Natasha.

Then the unthinkable happens, you make eye contact. It’s brief and lasts for less than a second but it was there. You’re now openly staring at her, trying to gauge her reaction, but her face was marble and unreadable. Her eyes flickering to Pietro and the wine glasses before you and then she’s pushing out of her chair and walking away.

You scramble after her, all common sense leaving your body as you follow after her. You stand outside the bathroom door, shifting your weight from foot to foot. Natasha obviously wanted space and got you chasing after her. The right thing to do would be walking back to your seat, instead you push open the door and see Natasha leaning against the sink, her face in her hands.

“You okay?” You want to smack yourself over the head for that one, she obviously isn’t okay or she wouldn’t be here. “Sorry that was a stupid question.” You say, your fingers playing with a loose thread on the skirt of your dress.

Natasha looks up, sniffling a little bit, looking more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen her. She laughs weakly and shakes her head, pushing herself off the bathroom counter.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m your friend, you don’t have to lie to me.” You sound so sincere, you almost believe yourself.

“That’s the problem, I don’t want to -” She cuts herself off, running her hand through her hair.

“You don’t want to do what?” You gently prod her, you want her to open up to you, confide in you the way you want to confide in her.

“I don’t want to be your friend.”

And just like that all the air feels like it’s been sucked out of the room. You feel like you’ve been physically struck, the hurt you feel at her words is so completely foreign to you. Tears pick at your eyes and your face goes red hot.

“Okay then.” You say softly, unable to hide the hurt in your voice.

“Wait- it’s not like that.” Natasha laughs unnaturally “We can’t be friends, I can’t just be friends with you.”

You stop at that, could it be that, maybe just maybe that Natasha felt similarly?

“I’m sorry I interrupted your date.” Natasha says after a couple beats and turns away to walk out of the bathroom door. You have to stop her, she can’t leave, not before you explain.

“Wait! Natasha!” You grab her wrist tightly. “Wanda!” You call out desperately.

She turns around, looking hurt but also confused and you rush to speak before she can leave again.

“The guy I’m with, he’s Wanda’s brother. We’re not dating, our relationship has always been strictly platonic.” You hope that this will be enough for her to stop and listen, give you enough time to explain that you wanted her as much as you thought she might want you back. “Natasha, please.” You beg.

Natasha takes a step forward and another one until you can feel her breath. Your grip on her wrist loosens, until you drop it all together. She looks at you, her dark green eyes studying your face. Finally she whispers.

“You’re my student.”

“Yes.” You say.

“And I’m your professor.”

“Yes.” You have an idea on where this was going but you hope that you’re wrong. That she won’t pull away from you.

“Which is why this can’t happen.”

“No.” Your voice hardens, it wasn’t fair, Natasha was the first person to ever make you feel this way, and now she was walking away.

“I’m sorry.” Natasha says and she really does look sorry.

“Wait! If you’re, if you’re going to walk away then at least tell me, that it wasn’t just me. That you feel it too.” You swallow hard, tears blurring your vision.

Natasha walks over to you again and places a gentle kiss on your cheek and whispers into your ear.

“It wasn’t just you, I promise”