#single!mom reader

Kept thinking about Jack trying to bond with single mom!readers child and cooked this up Word count: 1.6k

Jack abbot never thought of himself having kids. 

Once his wife died the thought slowly disintegrated over time In his mind. Then he turned fifty and it was like a nail in the coffin, sharp, quick death for all his swimmers. The regret of passing things onto a generation didn’t even linger anymore.

Then he met you. A sharp cunning woman in her thirties that runs a bakery. It wasn’t love at first sight. But maybe after coming in day after day it was infatuation, then he found out you were getting a divorce and it was curiosity. Now Jack knows he’s falling in love. 

read the full piece here

* part of the 'falling' universe

― Pairing: stepdad!lewis x single mom!reader ― Warning: mentions of alcohol and food; single!mom reader; she/her pronouns to reader; 1k2 words. ― Summary: You had dinner with a few friends, and Leo loved the fact that Lewis was included - so much so, that he wanted his new favorite pilot to tuck him in bed and read him to sleep.

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preview

Though you tried your best to keep the house tidy, it was one of the hardest jobs in the world when one had a toddler in said house. And you just happened to have a hurricane toddler who loved all things toys and random objects such as your pillows, the remote, a colorful spoon you got during vacation, and so on. That’s partially the reason why the living room was brimming with scattered toys the moment Lewis rang the bell. That and because you wanted to rest the few hours you had free that Saturday considering you were about to receive a few friends and cook them dinner. 

Summary: Watching Spencer bond with your son and seeing how alike they are.

Pairings: Spencer Reid X Single!Mom reader

Category: fluff

Content warnings: bullying

Word count: 1.5k

[masterlist]

Working at the BAU with a middle schooler had been the most challenging thing in life so far. Not that you showed it to the people around you. Jamie was a sweet and shy boy. One of the smartest in class which made you proud. He wasn’t very talkative at school so he didn’t have many friends. Jamie loved spending time with you though you were his best friend.

You had been working at the BAU since Jamie was in 3rd grade. The only people that knew about Jamie was Hotch due to the fact you didn’t want an unsub to use your son against you. Keeping him a secret from profilers was easier than you expected. You had always had “girls night” with JJ, Penelope, and Emily but you still managed to never slip up which you were proud of. The one person that you struggled to keep it a secret from was Spencer.

Part 3

AN: The love and support you guys have given be is actually insane, thank you so much to everyone who has been commenting and reblogging, you guys have been making my day!! :) Again special thanks to @sweetmissnothing for reading and revising 💓💓

Paring: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

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.

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2

Words:1.7k

There’s a few moments of silence as you find yourself sitting in a booth in between Stella and Natasha. You daughter has been non stop talking with Lila who sat beside her, the two girls giggling loudly amongst themselves.

Conversation came easily between the adults and you realize something. It was refreshing and nice like no other to share conversations with other parents. None of your friends had any kids, none of them understanding or relating to the issues you faced. No, they were too busy living out their ideal college experience, getting drunk and hooking up with strangers at the club with their fake IDs. At the same age you were breastfeeding and changing dirty diapers while watching reruns of Friends.

You were far too mature, you had to be, for your high school friends, many of them leaving you behind when they learned that you wanted to keep it. As for the ones that stayed, they tried their best but you could only cancel on them so many times before they too were gone.

Being a mother aged you in more ways than one, you missed your college experience in favor of being the parent your daughter needed. Your friends invited you to college frat parties and offered you white pills, telling you to live a little. You never did accept, you weren’t the same person you were before you got pregnant. After a while the invitations stopped coming, and you found that you didn’t mind.

You tried going to mommy and me classes, making friends with other moms and dads. You figured out pretty quickly that, people your own age wanted nothing to do with someone who had a kid. They never did accept you though, you could feel them judging you, for the fact that you weren’t married, there was no dad, your age. You and Stella attended exactly four mommy and me classes, before you stopped showing. No point in going where you were not welcome.

For a while it was just you and Stella against the world. Having Stella changed everything in your life, normalcy be damned. Others might have seen her as a roadblock, someone that cost you your young adult life. You never saw her as that, you looked at her and only felt love and hope for the person she’d grow up to be.

You never saw her as anything short of amazing, the endless questions she asked, that others might find annoying, you adored, loving her curiosity. She was your daughter and every motivation you had to do better, be better. She was the best damn thing that ever happened to you.

Although you loved the conversations you’d share with Stella, you had to admit that the one you were holding with Laura, Clint and Natasha had a lot more substance than the former. It was nice talking to other adults about adult things.

“Tasha?” Stella asks, crawling all over your lap to get closer to the redhead. Natasha's head tilts in question, giving the girl in front of her full attention.

“What are you guys talking about?” Lila asks, popping up behind Laura and climbing onto her lap from across the table.

“Adult stuff, very boring.” Natasha chuckles, you watch as she leans over to pull out a few napkins from the dispenser on the table. Folding one carefully, she dips it into her water and goes to wipe Stella’s face carefully, of all the Superman ice cream. Your heart melts at the sight.

It’s so effortlessly maternal, the act looks so natural coming from her as if she’s been doing this her entire life. If anyone looked at the scene before you, they could have easily assumed that they were mother and daughter.

The smile Stella gives her is so wide and bright that you can’t help but smile too. It’s when Natasha gives a gentle smile in return, that you find yourself wishing you could take a picture, capture this moment forever. You can’t though, so instead you commit the moment to memory, studying the two carefully as to not miss a detail.

“We were talking about taxes.” Clint jokes which makes all the adults laugh while Lila and Stella just look confused.

“Adults are boring.” Lila loudly declares, scrunching up her face.

“Yeah, adults are boring!” Stella echoes from Natasha’s lap, even going as far to cross her arms over her chest.

All the adults at the table laugh which makes both girls make a face.

“Tasha.” Stella whines, turning around in Natasha's lap to look at her.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” She asks innocently. The table goes silent and Natasha looks so caught off guard that you almost laugh at the sight.

There’s a few moments of silence as Natasha takes a minute to wipe the surprise off her face at the question.

“I’m not currently seeing anyone.” Natasha replies, combing her fingers through Stella’s hair affectionately.

“Auntie Nat had a boyfriend though.” Lila pauses, making a disgusted face “Bruce.”

It takes you a minute to make the connection that Bruce is Dr. Banner, as in your calculus teacher.

“Lila.” Laura warns.

“He said he was a doctor and mommy said that he was really smart, but then he tried to tell me unicorns don’t exist!” Lila shakes her head as if she was almost disappointed in him.

You tense immediately, your daughters fourth favorite animal was a unicorn, if she learned the truth she’d be heartbroken. Instead of being heartbroken and breaking down like you feared, Stella has the same disappointed look Lila has.

“But unicorns are real!” Stella insisted, internally you let out a sigh of relief.

“That's what I told him!” Lila says in an exaggerated voice. Stella turns around again to face Natasha.

“He doesn’t sound very smart, everyone knows unicorns exist.” Stella says as it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Natasha just laughs, you notice that she doesn’t deny it.

You find yourself losing a bit more respect for Dr. Banner, for all his PhDs he wasn’t smart enough to know not to tell a little girl that unicorns don’t exist. Probably the same type of guy to tell little kids Santa doesn’t exist either. Incompetent asshole.

“Are unicorns your favorite animal, Stella?” Laura asks kindly.

“Unicorns are my fourth favorite animal.” Stella says, holding up four fingers to show her. Laura laughs gently at the specificity of her.

You all continue to chat, minus Cooper who ignored everyone else in favor of playing on Clint’s phone. After awhile you say your goodbyes, the younger kids all needing their naps. Stella and Lila try to fight leaving the ice cream parlor, but you catch them both yawning at least twice. However you and Laura exchange contact information and promise the girls a playdate in the near future.

As you both are leaving and going your separate ways, Stella waves goodbye from over your shoulder.

“Bye Tasha! Bye Lila!” Stella yells as you continue to walk down the block.

“Bye Stella!” Lila’s voice shouts back from across the sidewalk.

During your walk back home Stella, falls asleep unsparingly. Today was a big day for her, as you climb the stairs up to your little apartment, you decide to let her sleep for an extra hour.

Laying your daughter on the couch, you gently remove her clothes and dress her sleeping form in her Paw Patrol pjs. You should place her in her own bed in her room, but your feet start going towards your room and you don’t fight it. Stripping yourself and changing into a big cotton shirt you lay next to Stella, cuddling her gently.

Placing a finger on her rosy cheek you tell her quietly as to not wake her.

“Please don’t grow up too fast.”

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

Sharon had finally recovered from her cold to watch Stella, thank god you think to yourself.

You leave Stella with a kiss on the cheek and in the good hands of Sharon. During your walk you receive a text from Laura confirming that the zoo at 10 am worked for her.

English class is different, not the material but Natasha herself. Probably because the Natasha in front of you isn’t really Natasha but rather Ms. Romanoff. In these past few days you had seen so many more versions of Natasha than you thought existed.

You always knew Ms. Romanoff, strict and deliberate in her teaching. You met Tasha, who was nothing but affectionate and sweet with Stella. Now you were hoping to know the real Natasha, not just the one outside of the classroom.

As she dismisses the class and you're on your way to leave she calls you. She looks nervous, which in turn makes you feel nervous. Natasha was not a nervous person, so watching her wring her hands in front of you, had your heart beating faster than usual.

“I just wanted to ask if you were comfortable with me being there at the zoo, Laura asked me to go, but I wanted to make sure it was okay with you before I told her yes.” Natasha explains, her eyes looking over your face but never quite meeting yours.

“Of course you can come, why would I feel uncomfortable with you being there?” You ask.

“Well, for one, I’m your professor.” Natasha says, stating the obvious.

“Unless I have to give you an essay about it on Monday I don’t really see an issue with you being there.” You joke, you want her to know that you want her there, more than you probably should because she was right, she was your professor.

Natasha’s eyes light up and she gives you a brilliant smile. You decide then and there that that is quite possibly the most beautiful smile you ever seen, the only one being prettier belonging to Stella.

“Okay great, I just wanted to make sure, you’re sure Stella won’t mind?”

You can’t help but laugh at the idea of your daughter being unhappy with the idea of Natasha not being there.

“Are you kidding, Stella adores you, she’ll be absolutely thrilled when she finds out you’ll be coming along. You’re wonderful with her, really.” You insist.

“If you’re sure then.”

“Most definitely. You know Natasha you’d make a really wonderful mother.” You tell her earnestly before turning to leave the classroom.

AN: For those who asked I did add you to my taglist, however I was having issues being able to properly tag all of you. If you are tagged below but didn’t get a notification feel free to message me so I can try to fix this issue. Sorry :(

Okay! So, this one has been requested at least 13 times lol, I hear you guys, and its finally here! I now present the Single Dad!/Single Mom! AU. I hope you guys love these fics as much as I do! 

AN: Thinking about making this a series, I’d definitely like to continue with them :) Special thanks to @sweetmissnothing for proofreading and editing 💓

Paring: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warning: Swearing

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.

Masterlist Part 2

Words: 2k

“Wanna get ice cream..” Stella grumbles as you struggle to walk with her on your hip, with your book bag slung over your other shoulder.

You have to stop momentarily, squeezing your eyes together as you take one, two, three deep breaths. Today was going to require a lot of patience, more patience than you felt you could give. After a moment you open your eyes and start up again.

“Mommy” Stella tugs on the shoulder of your sweater, trying to get your attention.

“I know sweetheart.” You tell her, adjusting her on your hip as you cross the street to your college campus.

“Mommy.” Stella whines again.

You sigh, it’s not your two and a half year old daughters fault, it’s not like she wanted to come to your honors English class. It was nearly 9 am when your babysitter, Sharon, called and canceled on you, apparently having caught a particularly bad cold. None of your friends or neighbors could watch Stella on such short notice so you had no choice but to bring her.

You supposed you could have skipped class today, if it was any class other than English, you would have. Only your other classes didn’t have Ms. Romanoff teaching, she had a thing about missing class and you’d loathe to get on her bad side. Your English teacher was very well respected within her community and a good letter of recommendation from her could almost guarantee a job after college. Missing class especially this close to midterms wouldn’t be a good look for you. So after a little debate you packed up your things with Stella in tow.

“Ice cream.” Stella repeats, using one of her little hands to grab at your face, forcing you to look at her. She presses her forehead to yours and repeats herself again, this time drawn out. You laugh a little and place a kiss on her temple before telling her.

“I know sweet pea, you want ice cream, but it’s the morning and it's not time for ice cream.”

“It’s always ice cream time.” She tells you a matter-of-factly.

You sigh, sugar tended to be a treat for her, Stella was endlessly energetic, a trait you loved about her, although her on sugar, was a dangerous combination. As you walk into the English department you decide to make a compromise with her.

“How about this, if you can sit on mommy’s lap and be quiet during mommy’s class we can have ice cream before lunch” You offer.

“With spwinkles?”

You giggle and lovingly squeeze the toddler in your arms. “With sprinkles.”

“Mmmhhh okay!” She cheers happily.

“Shushhhh.” You tell her “We have to use our inside voices. And when we get into class you have to be quiet. Okay?”

“Okay.” Stella mumbles.

You stop at the open door to your English class, taking a moment to prepare yourself. Your status as a mother wasn’t something you often went around advertising. Not out of embarrassment but getting knocked up in senior year of high school had taught you how judgmental others could be. You had no desire to open yourself and your mothering abilities for that kind of criticism.

You wonder if your professor would say something, it wasn’t like she could miss the toddler attached to your side. Panic flared up in you, would if she asked you to leave because she thought Stella would be a disruption? The possible idea of that sort of humiliation almost has you walking right about of the English department, class be damned. No. You had every right to be there and if she asked you two to leave you’d kindly tell her where she could shove it.

You grimace, it’s just 90 minutes, you think to yourself, you can do this. Steeling yourself you walk into your class with deliberate steps. The class is mostly full, most of your peers chatting amongst themselves. None of them took particular notice as you walked past.

Your breath hitches as you pass Ms. Romanoff's desk, almost bracing yourself for a possible confrontation. She notices of course, but she remains wordless and, you see a slight look of surprise in her eyes at the sight of Stella. A barely raised eyebrow is the only acknowledgment you get from her before she turns her attention back to the papers in front of her.

You sigh in relief, maybe you could get through this class without much trouble at all. As you climb up the steps to your seat you notice your daughter curling up closer to you, her head tucking into your chest more. The volume and level of people bringing out her shyer more quiet nature.

You almost moan in pleasure as you sit down, having to carry your book bag along with Stella and her toys for nearly a mile wasn’t fun. Your arms ache with relief as you settle Stella on your lap and pull out your books.

“Duffy.” Stella says, turning around in your lap to tug at your shirt. You pat her head gently before combing on her soft hair with your fingers. After a few moments of this, you awkwardly reach over to pull the lavender axolotl from your bag. She squirms in your lap happily as she squishes it against her chest.

“Wanda! Wanda!” Stella squeals, drawing the attention of the people near you, suddenly taking note of the toddler in their English class. Stella takes no notice to this, bouncing up and down in your lap excitedly. Pointing at the redhead who was walking over.

Wanda Maximoff was one of the few people that knew about Stella, you had first met her at freshman orientation, along with her brother Pietro. You quickly became fast friends and she had been nothing but kind and helpful when learning of your daughter.

“Hi, Stella” Wanda says affectionately, reaching over to hold the little outstretched hand offered to her. She looks at you, a quizzical look on her face.

“Sharon canceled on me, something about a cold. No one else could watch her so I had to bring her with me.” You shrug helplessly.

Wanda nods in understanding. “You could have skipped.”

“That wasn’t an option, especially not with midterms coming up so soon.” You say, shaking your head at the notion.

“Still you didn’t technically have to come”The Sokovian says. Suddenly, Wanda's mouth moves into a smirk.

“What?” You ask almost defensively, not liking the look on her face.

“Nothing, never mind. Don’t worry about it, besides class is starting.” Wanda says before leaving to find her own seat. You ignore her and turn your attention to the toddler in your lap.

“Okay sweetheart, class is about to start so you have to be quiet, if you need anything you have to whisper.” You tell her gently, pulling out a few quiet activities for her and placing them on the desk.

The first half hour goes by well, aside from the pressure in your lap you almost forgot Stella was there. She stayed quiet playing with a few of her toys and when she asked you for a snack she almost whispered.

You feel a bubble of pride come up in you, proud of your daughter for being so well behaved. You were so nervous about bringing her to class and there she was being the perfect child she was.

You spoke too soon, you realize. While you were lost in your thoughts of how you could reward your daughter for her good behavior, she had squirmed out of your lap without you noticing. Fear comes first, naturally, then pure horror as you watch your daughter slip down the steps of the lecture hall.

“Stella!” You whisper-shout, not caring that those in your vicinity could hear, no point in being overly discreet now.

“Stella! Come back here right now!” You try again, this time putting in an edge on tone, you needed her to know that you meant business. Still she continued to make her way down the isle not even looking your way.

“Damn it, Stella.” You say under your breath, someone was definitely not getting any ice cream.

You felt like you were watching a horror movie, unable to move, as you watched your daughter with the confidence of a supermodel walk up to your professor.

You start packing then, hastily, throwing everything in your bag ready to scoop up Stella and high tail out of there. The first place you’d go to wouldn’t be home but the school’s registration office to switch English classes. You’re zipping up your bag when you look up and almost faint at the sight.

There was your daughter in the arms of your professor, playing with her red hair happily. Ms.Romanoff, your professor, your very hot professor was holding your daughter.

“I must be dreaming.” You mumble to yourself as you slip back into your seat. You watch almost in a trance as Ms. Romanoff continued her lecture as if she wasn’t holding a child on her hip.

For the next hour, class went on normally, people asked questions and challenged one another’s ideas, but you couldn’t focus on anything. Not when your daughter sat perched on your professors’ hip. You barely even noticed when class ended.

It was a little quick tap on the leg from Wanda that had you packing up your things.

“So that was definitely unexpected.” Wanda says as you organize your notebooks and pens.

“You're telling me.”

“So do you and Stella have any plans for lunch? We could go to that new Italian place that just opened up a few blocks down.” Wanda suggests.

“Well we were going to get ice cream before lunch as a treat, but I don’t think Stella really deserves that.” You sigh regretfully, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Next time then?” Wanda offers as you walk down the steps.

“Definitely.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, your patience almost non existent. You shake your head trying to clear your mind before approaching the red-headed woman.

“Ms. Romanoff, I’m so sorry, my usual babysitter canceled on me last minute and I had to bring her here and-“ You’re rambling, you know this but you can’t stop.

“It’s fine really, your daughter is very well behaved.” She compliments.

You watch as Stella lights up at the praise, her little fingers still playing with her hair. Looking completely at ease in your professor’s arms. You find yourself taking a small moment to appreciate the woman's toned biceps, before you snap out of it, hoping the woman before you didn’t notice.

“She is for the most part, although today not so much.” You give a pointed look at Stella who keeps her eyes downcast. You’re surprised when you hear your professor laugh, low and sexy as hell. Fuck, that turns you on.

“Honestly, you can’t be surprised, asking any toddler to sit still for 90 minutes is a lot. Stella did very well.” Ms. Romanoff continues, looking over fondly at your daughter, a fondness you’d like to be looked at with from her.

“Thanks, Tasha” Stella says quietly, nuzzling her cheek onto the woman's blouse.

“Tasha?” You ask.

“Natasha actually”, Natasha says in an even tone. Natasha, it fits her better than Ms. Romanoff ever will anyway.

“Umm, we should get going..” You say, awkwardly putting your hands out indicating you should be going.

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”

Part 2

AN: The support I’ve gotten in the past 24 hours has actually been insane and I’m smiling like crazy behind this screen :) This is the very anticipated part 2 and this will become a series!!! Also in this story I imagine reader being 21 in her junior year of college and Natasha being 28 or 29. Also shout out to @sweetmissnothing for revising and editing this for me 💓💓

Paring: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

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.

Masterlist Part 1 Part 3

Words: 2.5k

The next day you found someone to babysit, it was actually someone you used to babysit. Peter had grown into a very sweet and responsible 14 year old, and had offered to come over for a few hours so you could go to your classes.

“Remember, the first aid kit’s under the bathroom sink and-”You ramble to the teenager standing before you.

“I know, I know, I’ve babysat before, don’t worry, I’ll call you if anything happens.” Peter says, nodding towards the door.

“Good and thank you again.” You tell him before grabbing your keys and leaving in a rush, you were running late. You run down the stairs, two at a time, if you jog you should be able to make up for lost time.

It’s awkward and uncomfortable with your backpack, you never should have left track. Although it wasn’t like you left, it was more of being kicked out when word got out of your pregnancy. After you gave birth you never went back, now you wish you had.

You switch to speed walking, Dr. Banner was pretty lenient anyway. It’s ten minutes till when you arrive on campus, you wonder if you hurry, you could pick up a coffee before class. You decide that if you run to the math department that yes, you could make it.

You order quickly enough and go to stand by the pick up area, as the minutes pass you start to get anxious. How hard is it to make a vanilla latte?

“No Stella today?”

Your head whips around at the familiar voice, Natasha, Ms. Romanoff, you correct yourself silently. She’s dressed for class, in black pencil skirt and a white blouse that seems too tight around her chest. Your eyes linger for the smallest of moments there, stop looking at her boobs, she’s your professor, you think to yourself.

“Not today, I managed to find someone to watch her.” You say graciously, you eye the coffee counter.

“Running late?” Ms. Romanoff asks you.

“Just a bit, I stupidly thought I could squeeze in a coffee.” You say, still kicking yourself for this.

“If you’d like I can write you a note saying that you were in a meeting with me that ran over time.” The woman offers kindly. You look at her shocked.

“Really?” You ask, surprised. Watching carefully as she pulls out a pen and scrap of paper from her purse already writing.

“Who am I making this out to?” The redhead asks, her eyebrow raised in question.

“Um, Dr. Banner.” You tell her, shifting from one foot to the other. The face of the woman in front of you makes no sense to you. Something in between annoyance and disgust.

“What? Is he like your ex-boyfriend or something?” You joke.

“Ex-fiancé actually” She corrects dryly. Your eyes widen so much it should be comical. Ms. Romanoff, your English professor used to date/was engaged to your calculus teacher.

“I-” You stutter, trying to form a sentence but you can’t. Your mind is too busy going a mile a minute, trying to wrap your head around the idea of them dating.

“Vanilla latte with cinnamon.” A barista calls out and you nearly jump at the opportunity to escape. You practically snatch the cup from the barista before making your way out.

Your face is tomato red, why did you say that? Where did that even come from? Your English professor wasn’t one to share details about her personal life nor did she seem to have any interest in anyone else’s in your class. Where did that joke even come from? Natasha certainly wasn’t your friend nor did you have an established relationship to make that sort of joke. And since when did Ms. Romanoff become Natasha?

That was a disaster you think to yourself, considering for the second time this week switching English classes.

As you walk in late to your calculus class you realize how stupid you look. Coming in late with a coffee in hand. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“I’m glad you could make it.” Dr. Banner says, nodding in your direction. To his credit he sounds sincere, and not at all the least bit bothered by your tardiness.

Dr. Banner continues his morning monologue of his day as you shuffle to your seat and pull out your books. It’s as he’s speaking you consider how he and Natasha were seemingly opposite. Natasha was stern and particular, speaking in an even tone that kept anyone from interrupting her. Dr. Banner on the other hand was much more lenient, talked in a more casual and familiar way, often getting side-tracked with stories of his weekends. How the two ever got together was a mystery to you.

It wasn’t just their obvious differences that made you question how they could ever be a couple, it was just, well Natasha was hot. It wasn’t that Dr. Banner was unattractive per say, definitely not your type, not that it mattered as he was apparently Natasha’s type. It's just, Natasha was unbelievably hot and miles out of Dr. Banner's league, so how did a guy like him get a girl like her?

Maybe he was really good in bed, you think, not to say that Natasha was shallow enough to only care about someone’s skills within the bedroom. There must be something about him that apparently made him good enough for Natasha, and whatever it was you desperately wanted to know.

“Ahhh damn it!” Exclaimed Dr. Banner, this snaps you out of the daze you were in. You watch as Dr. Banner used a handful of tissues to try and pat dry the coffee spilled all over his plaid shirt. What indeed.

You find that you hate the thought of the two of them together, of them being a couple and doing couple things. Going on dates that ended in the bedroom, you stop not wanting to think about the fact that he’s been lucky enough to see her out of her tight skirts and blouses. That he’s seen so many more versions of her than you have. That particular revelation makes you want to scream in frustration.

You don’t though, instead you push the thought of them both as far away from you as you can. Besides, Natasha said ex-fiancé, whatever they had they don’t have anymore. You wonder if you’re a shit person for finding comfort, satisfaction even, in their broken off engagement. Probably.

Ugh. You bury yourself in your work and forbid yourself from giving either of them a second thought. It works surprisingly well and before you know it your walking out of class with hate in your heart for Dr. Banner, hate that wasn’t there last time.

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

“Mommy!” Is the only warning you get before your daughter collides into your legs. You drop your bag off your shoulder before leaning down to pick Stella up.

“Hi sweetheart, were you good for Peter?” You ask, bouncing her as you walk further into your apartment.

“Stella was great, she didn’t give me any trouble.” Peter says.

You nod, placing a kiss on Stella’s cheek as you reach into your back pocket to grab your wallet.

“Oh no! You don’t have to pay me.” Peter protests immediately upon seeing you pull out a few twenties.

“Peter, I’m going to pay you, you babysat for nearly four hours, I’m not just going to give you nothing.” You protest, counting out 60 dollars.

“It’s okay really! I like spending time with Stella, we had fun together. You don’t need to pay me.” Peter says again. You ignore him in favor of folding up the bills and stuffing them in his coat jacket.

“Just take the money, okay?” You give him a pointed look.

“Fine.” Peter grumbles out.

You laugh at that.

“You must be the first teenager in history to be unhappy about making money.” You tease, reaching out to ruffle his brown hair.

“Yeah, yeah. Bye Stella.” Peter says waving to the toddler as he slips on his jacket and leaves.

“Bye Peter, be sure to text me when you get home!” You call out after him from your position at the doorway.

“I will.” Peter promises.

You close the door behind you, ready to give your daughter your full attention.

“What did you and Peter do?” You ask, bending down to let her stand on her own.

“We played moon pewple!'' Stella says, astronauts, Peter and her played astronauts. Your two and half year old, called astronauts moon people. You secretly hoped she never grew out of it.

You watch as Stella runs over, behind the couch to get something. A few seconds later she comes back out holding something out proudly.

You look carefully at the thing presented, you learned that your daughter got easily insulted when you didn’t know what some of the things she brought you were. One of the most memorable mistakes was when you thought that a picture of you and her was a dog, Stella was not happy.

It was an open cardboard box covered in shiny gray duct tape, with a large square cut out. You can’t help but be relieved, this had to be her more recognizable arts and craft projects, Peter must have helped.

“Is this an astronaut's helmet?” You ask.

“Mommy! No!” Stella whines, unhappy that you couldn’t figure out what she made.

You cringe when your daughter informs you that the cardboard box in your hand, was not in fact what you thought it was. Damn, you really thought that was an astronaut helmet.

“Sorry sweet pea, can you tell me what it is?” You ask her. You give the box another look, the idea that it was anything other than an astronaut helmet seemed wrong. Though knowing your daughter, it could be a giraffe for all you knew.

“Mommyyyy…it’s a moon pewple helmet.'' Stella says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You find yourself smiling brightly at the girl before you, amusement bubbling up inside of you.

“Sweetheart, astronauts are moon people.” You tell her kindly before handing her back the box.

Stella looks thoughtful for a moment before she shakes her head.

“Silly Mommy.”

You sigh, another time maybe. The sound of your daughter's tummy rumbling reminds you that you ought to make lunch. You go over to the fridge ready to maybe maybe a peanut butter and jelly for Stella when you remember that you still haven’t gone grocery shopping. Shit.

Change of plans, you and Stella go out for lunch instead. You zip-up a pink sweater over Stella and together you make your way to the sandwich shop a few blocks away.

You stop when you see that a small fair has popped up on the park grounds that you always pass to get to the sandwich shop. Shit, if you had known that this was here you would have gone somewhere else.

You are even surprised when you feel a tugging on your hand.

“Mommy please, pretty please with sugar on top.” Stella looks up at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes you have ever seen and before you know it, you’re leading her down the park path toward the fair.

You order a couple fish tacos for yourself and a grilled cheese with french fries for Stella, at one of the food trucks along the street. There, Stella munches happily and drinks her chocolate milk contently.

After lunch you buy twenty dollars worth of tickets for a few rides and somehow get bullied into going on the carousel.

You find that you enjoy yourself more than you thought you would, happy to see Stella be so happy. You pay to have Stella’s cheek painted with a little pink monarch butterfly. You even drag her into the photo booth, where you both make silly faces for the camera.

You're about to offer to buy Stella some cotton candy or ice cream when you notice that she’s nowhere to be found. Pure panic is all that you feel. You scan the crowds of people looking for any sign on her, of her bedazzled pink sweater or a painted butterfly on her cheek. Nothing.

You tell yourself to calm down, you ever the worrier had prepared your daughter for this. Even at her age she could give your phone number and even home address by heart. You always told her to find a family with kids and ask one of the adults for help.

You wander around the fair for the next five minutes, looking around carefully, as the minutes tick by you feel your heart start pounding.

Where could she be? Is it possible that she was kidnapped? Did some grown man snatch her away when you weren’t looking? The possibilities were endless. You’re about to call the police when you hear her.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

You whip your head in the direction of the shout and there she is, your daughter. She runs straight for you and you don’t hesitate to scoop her up in your arms. You hold her tight, taking a deep inhale of her strawberry shampoo and tell yourself that it’s okay. That she’s okay. As far as you can tell she looks the same, completely unharmed.

“Oh sweetheart, I was so worried, you can’t run off like that.” You say your voice, shaking.

“It’s okay, I found Tasha and she helped me.” She says squirming in your arms until you place her back on the ground.

“Tasha?” You ask.

Stella nods, pointing over in a random direction and when you look across, you see your professor. She gives the two of you a light wave and makes her way over. You watch as your daughter leaves you again, but it’s okay because she runs up to meet Natasha. Again you're met with the sight of Natasha holding your daughter on her hip.

“Your daughter is very smart, she walked right up to Laura and said that she couldn’t find her mom.” Natasha says kindly, squeezing Stella affectionately.

Despite the heart attack your daughter had given you just minutes earlier, you can’t help but nod and agree. She did everything you told her to do in case she couldn’t find you.

“Auntie Nat!” You turn to see a young girl who couldn’t be more than a year older than Stella, run up to Natasha. Following closely behind must be the rest of her family.

Natasha makes a few introductions to the Barton family, and you meet the Laura she mentioned before. She and her husband, Clint, have three children together, Cooper who is eight, Lila who is three and a half, and little Nathaniel named after Natasha, who is ten months old.

Despite the slight age gap, Lila and Stella hit it off immediately talking in excited voices about Disney princesses. They invite you and Stella out for ice cream a few blocks down and you find yourself agreeing easily.

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