(Uploaded to Tumblr on 17/12/20)
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Words: 2,175
Warnings: Family bullshit, argument, judgemental parents/family members, 18+ content at the end, I think that may be it.
Summary: Thanksgiving dinners always turned out this way. But luckily this year you had someone to lift your spirits.
A/N: Sorry that this was so late! Lil bit of a filler and family "background" part, really. 18+ content starts and ends from —
18+ ONLY.
***
It was that time again.
When the leaves would fall from the trees, painting the ground in beautiful red's, yellow's, and brown's. White frost adjoining them. So that while you walked, it was not only the leaves that gave a satisfying crunch.
But with the chilly weather came the holidays, and with the holidays came seeing your family.
Joy.
It wasn't all bad.
You would still get to see your siblings.
And not to mention your favourite cousin.
Downside. You had to see the rest of your family.
You would have done everything in your power to get out of Thanksgiving dinner if it wasn't for abandoning the family members you did like, and got along with. To only fend for themselves.
You just couldn't do that to them.
Just as you knew they couldn't abandon you, themselves.
You were in this together.
Now, you were just waiting for the last of your "alliance" to arrive.
"What's that smell?" Two loud sniffs sounded behind you. Your lip's curling up, as you recognised the voice.
Turning you came face to face with your cousin.
One Tony Stark.
"Sausage candle!" he finished with a yell.
Rushing towards each other, you were pulled into a tight hug. Matching chuckles being breathed into your ears.
Pulling away with a small laugh, Tony lightly slapped the tops of your arms, then gripping them lightly as he spoke.
"What? You have a quickie before you got on the plane?"
"Can you really tell that easy?"
"Are you kidding?! You smell like a brothel. I'm surprised your mom hasn't said anything about it yet."
"Give her time," you mumbled, turning from him to instead walk further into the house together.
A few minutes had passed, just spending your time in the living room with your brother, Charles. Or as he was more commonly known "Charlie", and Tony.
"I would have thought you would have brought someone with you," your brother stated, "Like your friend, Wade."
"He's spending the holidays with his girlfriend," you told him, taking a sip of your coke, "Anyway. Would you ever subject someone to this if you didn't have too?"
Charlie shuddered, while Tony laughed and nodded his head in agreement.
"No. Fuck no."
At that moment, your father walked into the room to tell you that dinner was ready, and to take a seat at the table.
Side by side, you, Tony, and Charlie walked into the dining room. To see the food placed in the middle of the table, and your family gathered around. You three sat in the only available chairs left.
You across from your aunt and uncle, Howard and Maria. Tony next to you, and your brother in between your two sisters. The only person missing being your father, who arrived not more than a minute later, carrying a large turkey. Placing it just above his plate, before taking a seat at the head of the table, opposite your mother.
You sat there conversing now and again whilst you ate, counting down to when your mother would start here "assessment" of you and your life.
Because "she cared".
"So, Y/N."
Fifteen-minutes and thirty-nine seconds.
A new record.
"Anything exciting going on in your life? I mean, you never call, so how would I know?"
"I wonder why," you mumbled under your breath.
"What was that, dear?"
Clearing your throat, you said, "That depends on what you consider exciting."
"There's no need to get defensive," she told you, almost having the gall to seem attacked.
"I wasn't being defensive. I wanted to know the specifics of what you wanted to know."
You knew what she was getting at.
"When were you gonna find someone?"
The sheer amount of comments that were about to come your way...
You could already feel your shoulder's tensing up. And the need for a smoke rising,
"I want to know it all."
"Oh, really?"
'No, you don't' you thought.
"Yes." She smiled.
Here it comes.
"Are you seeing anyone, for starters?"
Whoop! There it is!
"What do you mean by "seeing"?"
"Don't be cryptic, Y/N," your father told you, "Just answer her question."
"I want too-"
"Are you dating anyone?" your mother clarified before you could even finish your defence, "Have you got a girlfriend?"
Now...
This was "complicated".
On one hand, you could lie and spare this dinner some drama. Or hell! Even tell them the truth, but not the whole truth, of course, and have them bug you about it.
Or.
There was a third option.
Tell them as much as you could -and wanted- and fuck with almost everyone here.
There was an option that won out.
"Dating? No. Girlfriend? No. Sex? Yes."
"Y/N! That is disgusting," your grandmother scolded you.
"The smell of sweat coming from them? Yes, I agree," Howard spoke, glancing at you from his plate almost as if you weren't worth his time.
"Yeah, what is that?" your grandfather carried on, "Did you go to the gym?"
"It's a new deodorant," you lied. Tony, smirking beside you, hiding it away with his glass.
"Really?" your mother asked suspiciously, "What's it called?"
"Sausage candle."
"What kind of name is that?!" your father yelled.
"One that's a euphemism for sex."
The clattering of cutlery sounded in the next second, all thanks to your crude statement.
"Wait, hold up," your sister, Sasha said with a smile, "You had sex before you came here?"
"Yeah."
You watched as she threw her head back and laughed loudly, clapping her hands as she did. Your other siblings and Tony, joining in on her laughter. Even your grandad had to stifle his chuckle.
"What? You guys didn't want the truth?" You looked around with a smile at everyone else, who looked like they had just eaten a whole lemon.
"Please tell me I'm not paying for you to go to a school just to have sex," your father uttered, rubbing at his temples.
"I got a scholarship?" you questioned, utterly confused by the man, "And I work for everything else. You guys don't pay for shit."
"Watch your language when you're talking to my brother-in-law," Howard growled.
"Mind your business. He's acting like he's paying me through school, when the last thing he "paid" for me, was my gas bill when I was seventeen."
The grey man started to become red with frustration and anger. His wife, placing a careful hand on his arm, uttering a small "Howard-" to calm the man before he blew up in your face. Which fell on deaf ears, the man totally brushing her off.
"Listen here, you little shit-" he seethed.
"Watch your language when you're talking to you niece-in-law."
He was stunned, to say the least.
But instead of replying, he leaned back in his chair and studied you with cold, scrutinizing eyes.
"It's those friends of yours."
"What?"
Your dad hummed in agreement, gesturing his finger over to your mom, "Sh's right."
"What about my friends?"
"They're being bad influences on you," she replied like she was all-knowing. Taking a sip of her bitter, white wine.
"You don't even know them!"
"And I don't need too. You can see from all of these tattoos and piercings." She sneered at them. To which your eyes almost rolled into the back of your head, as you shook it, lightly.
"Yeah, because I can't make these decisions myself," you sad sarcastically, "I have to be "influenced" into them," you finished. Using air-quotes to get your point further across.
"Of course you have! You were never like this before you left."
"Yes, I was. You just never paid attention long enough to see that, and shot down everything that didn't fit your "Ideals"," you argued, "And anyway, you act like you weren't influenced by the PTA when we were kids-" You gestured around to your three siblings. "-Into buying shitty cookies, then passing them off as your own."
"That's not the same!" she yelled, "You are making your body un-natural."
"Uh, excuse me?!"
"Oh, here we go," Charlie whispered with a smile, ready to see the chaos unfold.
"You're one to talk. Because those same women influenced you into a fucking boob-job! In your mind, how is that not "making your body un-natural"? Because that seems pretty hypocritical to me. I mean if you want a boob-job, get a boob-job. But don't do it because Karen told you, you should."
"Okay, enough!" your father yelled, slamming his fists onto the table, making the crockery shake.
"I truly hope this girl you're sleeping with influences you out of this stuff."
"Which one?"
She looked at you curiously. "Which influence?"
"No. Which girl?"
Your mother's chair screeched as she pushed it back, moving into the kitchen to pour herself another glass of wine, from a fresh bottle. With a whisper of "my God" as your words.
"Well done, Y/N," Howard said, "You've ruined another Thanksgiving dinner."
"It's my pleasure, uncle Howie."
***
The night air was chilly against your exposed skin, but it wasn't so cold that you felt the need to wear more than your sweater. Not to mention the beer's Tony had snuck in, inside of a cooler, warmed you up the more you drank. Cigarette in the same hand that held the dark brown bottle.
"So..." Charlie began, from where he sat on your left, upon the part of the roof outside your old bedroom window, that faced the backyard. Tony on your other side, "About these girls..."
He wiggled his eyebrows at you, as to further get his point across.
"What about them?"
"Well." He nudged your shoulder with his. "What're they like."
"Honestly. I hardly remember most of their name's."
Tony and Charlie laughed together. Then you were surprised by another presence behind you, getting themselves comfortable, resting their arms across the open window, and taking a bottle of beer for themselves.
"God, you're a pig."
Looking to your side, right by your brother, was your sister, Sasha.
"Hey! In my defence, there've been a lot of girls, since I moved."
"Focusing on your studies?"
A smirk pulled at your features, thinking about Natasha.
Pulling the smoking stick to your lips, you took a long drag, exhaling the smoke before speaking, "Something like that."
"You're still a pig," she told you.
"I know."
Half a beer later, Tony randomly asked, "Where's Izzy?" looking to your sister for an answer.
"She went for a nap as soon as dinner was over. Said that she was full," Sasha hummed, "She's been feeling sick most of the day though. I think she might be pregnant."
"Oh, mom and dad will love that," you scoffed, "God. It's gonna be like a fucking war."
"I don't get it. She's twenty-three, she's able to make her own choices. It shouldn't matter," your brother said, shaking his head.
"Are you kidding, Charlie? They don't care, they're traditional when it comes to this stuff."
He sighed at your words, "I know."
"Anyway," Sasha started, checking her watch, "It's getting late. We should all turn in."
Tony whined.
"No! Let's stay out of here a bit longer. Have a few more beers."
"You too, Tony," she ordered.
You chuckled at his pout, climbing back in through the window.
"You heard her, Playboy. Bedtime."
"You can hardly talk," he scoffed.
***
Darkness surrounded you every time your eyes slid closed, blocking out the quiet drawl of the TV. You were just on the brink of sleep when your phone lit up beside you.
Without even glancing at the caller ID, you answered it. Getting a husky voice, pouring into your ear.
"Hello? Y/N?"
"Hi," you spoke into the phone, but before you could say anything else, you were cut off. Not even able to ask her what was up.
"Oh, is it too late for you? Were you asleep? I can call back tomorrow."
"No. No. No," you said, waking up more at her words, "I always have time for you."
"You sure?" Natasha asked, almost timidly. You couldn't believe that that tone had just come from your feisty, headstrong psych teacher.
"I'm positive, baby. Now, is something wrong?"
"No, no. I, uh, just wanted to hear your voice, I guess.
Humming, you continued to ask, "What are you wearing?" with a smirk remarkably similar to the one you wore out on the roof with your family.
Natasha laughed. It sounded further away, which lead you to assume that she had moved her face away from the phones receiver, somewhat.
"I just got out of the shower actually. So, just a towel."
Groaning deep in your chest, you pressed a hand against your forehead.
—
"I can't believe I'm here right now, and not over there, fucking you until your brain turns into mush."
Natasha gave a throaty, closed-mouth moan, at your words.
"There's nothing I want more than that, right now."
"Drop the towel," you ordered, "Let me hear you play with yourself. Show me how I can make you come without even being in the same state as you."
"Yes, daddy."
—