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a-spes · 1 month

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| PRETTY FACES, DARK SOULS - part two (4.070 words).

| Summary - you rob the wrong person, and she makes sure that you pay your debts, willingly or not.

| Tags & warnings - Men & minors DNI, Dark CEO!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, nothing else for the moment (I think?)

| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| part one. part two.

When Natasha realised that you left nothing to her, taking even her cheque book, she had to call her sister, asking her to come and pay for her. Even if she tried to be as nice as she could in such a situation, she couldn’t keep her words from being harsh.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt so humiliated. Natasha Romanoff, known as one of the most successful entrepreneurs of her generation, having to explain to the waiter that she can’t pay, having to ask her sister for money. It is something that shouldn’t have happened, something that needed to be repaired.

If one thing was sure, it’s that Yelena has not been happy to be woken up by her sister’s bad mood, but she complied with her request without questioning it, knowing better than to argue with her eldest.

“Don’t you dare to say a word", she warned when she eventually saw the blonde approaching the table.

She had been sitting here for almost an hour, waiting for her sister who decided to take her time. It was a childish way of avenging the brutal awakening she underwent, and the redhead would certainly have laughed if she wasn’t already irritated, and the youngest’s attitude only made it worse.

On the contrary, when Yelena saw her sister sitting at the table, she forgot about her bitterness, realizing how funny the situation was. She never could’ve imagined her sister calling her because she needed money. She is one of the richest people that exist on earth, and one of the most far-sighted at the same time. She always has her phone, at least two cards, her cheque book, and an absurd amount of cash, just in case.

The smile that grows on her face as she realizes how improbable the situation is earns her a slap on the back of the head, and Natasha never holds back her strength.

“Ouch!" She said, rubbing where she was hit, “it hurts!” She complained, but her sister doesn’t seem to care. In a second, the smile disappeared, giving way to a dark look.

“Shut up", the redhead said, rolling her eyes. She knows her sister as the back of her hand, and she also knows that the strength she put in that slap wasn’t enough to hurt her. She probably barely felt it, and is just too much of a cry baby sometimes. Something that’s pissing off the redhead that is in no mood for that kind of game. “Shut up, or you’ll learn what real pain is", she added, not even trying to hide the threat behind her words.

“You’ve no right to snap at me when I came all the way just to help you", she protested, and if they both knew she was right, her words were greeted by a simple sigh from the redhead who ran her hand over her face. No apologies, just silence.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she witnessed her sister in such a state of distress, but she knows that nothing good came out of it. If she enjoys it when the oldest terrifies her men, she fears the incensed decisions she will inevitably make.

She could burn the whole city if she wanted to.

And Natasha has to admit that the thought crossed her mind a few times while she was waiting for the blonde to show up. She was barely able to control her anger, and couldn’t help but bounce her right leg under the table while her fingers were tapping on the table. But none of these actions helped to calm her nerves.

“I abandoned really important things, you know”, she added, as she took her wallet out of her pocket to put it in her sister’s hand. She had outstretched it toward her, and Yelena didn’t need words to understand what the redhead wanted. “All of that because you forgot your wallet …", she mumbled under her breath, but obviously the other heard it.

“I didn’t forget my wallet, it has been stolen”, she muttered, as if it could make the situation less embarrassing, as if she hoped her sister wouldn’t hear, but none of these statements turned out to be true.

“You’re joking, right?” she asked back, not believing the oldest. “You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone if that’s the case”, she added, sure that her sister was lying to her in an attempt to hide what she probably considered as a weakness.

That’s what her sister always does. Most of the time, she is perfect, but when she inevitably makes mistakes, she always finds excuses. She blames her men, runs away, or pretends it has never happened, and Yelena feels like it’s exactly what’s happening right now. She is thinking that her sister has forgotten her wallet, but doesn't want to admit it.

Maybe because the idea of Natasha being robbed sounds unbelievable.

“I am not lying, someone stole me”, she said again, and her sister better not make her repeat it a third time because she will really lose her temper this time. Everytime she said it out loud, it only made it a bit more real, as if she couldn’t quite believe it before. But the realization is now sinking in, and she feels like she is becoming crazy with all the thoughts that are crossing her mind at the moment. “They took everything", she angrily added, throwing the empty wallet on the table, only for the youngest to check.

And her sister was right. They took everything, not leaving a single penny. The blonde was so shocked that she didn’t even know how to react.

“But … who’s stupid enough to steal things from The Natasha Romanoff?” She managed to ask, once the initial surprise had worn off, “and how did that even happen?” she added, looking at her sister who was now pacing up and down the terrace.

But she knew she wouldn’t get an answer, at least no today. Her sister was ignoring her voice, too busy mumbling things to herself, and she would probably be thrown over the edge if she interrupts, so she waited for them to be in the car to talk again.

She didn’t even complain when the oldest stole her keys, deciding that she will be the one to drive without even asking first. The blonde slipped in the passenger seat, muttering a few insults that Natasha pretends not to hear.

“So, what do you want us to do?” she eventually asked after they’ve been sitting in silence for a few minutes. She was looking at the redhead, the one who was staring at the road, lost in her thoughts.

“Nothing,” she replied, and brought back to reality by the question, she started the car, trying to ignore the look of surprise on her sister’s face.

“Nothing?” she repeated, “so you’re just going to let them go away when they robbed you?” she continued, and the lack of reaction from her sister made her want to shake her sister to get her thinking straight.

“Nothing yet” she corrected her, putting an end to Yelena’s protests. Despite what the other may think, she doesn’t intend to let the culprit be forgiven. It has never been her intention, and she knows exactly what to do to get every penny back.

When she notices the determination in the eyes of the oldest, she knew the next months were going to be interesting. She smirks at the thought.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧

This time was the last.

That’s what you said to yourself after every theft, and it has never been true, because you never earned enough to get out of this situation. What you were stealing was usually just enough for you to survive a few weeks, and even if you kept telling that to yourself, you stopped believing that it could become a reality.

It was nothing more than a dream, you head knew it, even if your heart never stopped dreaming about a future brighter than your present. Every night, the day you would eventually be out of misery was the last thing you were thinking about, and you spent hours imagining how it would look like.

You wanted an apartment that would be big enough to welcome the friends you would have made, and a job that you appreciate, but about which you would still complain.

At first, it was only about stealing the essentials, a jumper or an apple for which you would feel guilty for days. It’s when you stopped fearing that someone would catch you that you’ve started to think bigger. The few people who witnessed your theft generally decided that they weren’t paid enough to come after you, a little girl isn't worth their energy.

The years have gone by, and if the number of your victims increased, your wealth hasn’t. That’s when you realized that stealing money from the tourists in the street was not what would give you a better life, and decided to go after the richest people on the earth, the ones that probably wouldn’t even notice if you’d taken a few hundred dollars from their wallet.

One day, you’ll be making so much money that you will be able to pay for your debts.

Slowly, this need to survive has turned into a need for a life where you would have something to call yours. You didn’t want something to eat, you wanted an apartment. You didn’t want stolen clothes, you wanted something bought with your own money. Even a cup or a pen would be enough, as long as you could claim it as yours.

One day, you’ll deserve everything you have.

You stopped stealing almost two years ago, when you eventually raised enough money to start a new life, and the dream became a reality. It took you a lot of time and effort, but you eventually got exactly where you’ve been dreaming of being since your teenage years.

It was thanks to the inattention of this woman who hadn’t blocked her card when it was stolen, neither she declared her cheque book stolen, allowing you to use it as you wished for months. Usually, your victims are quick to solve the problem, leaving you only with the few notes you stole from their wallets.

But this time, you were left with more money than you ever had, more than enough to buy a ticket to another city, and still being able to buy essential supplies after. You could leave, rent a room for a few weeks, just until you find a job and get your first pay, you could even buy some new clothes, and you would still have enough money.

At first, you thought there was a catch, but the days have gone by, they became weeks, months, then years, and if the card and the cheque book never stopped working, nothing bad happened. No one ever knocked at your door, no letter got sent, and the feeling of dread you felt every time you paid has finally disappeared.

Maybe she forgot. Maybe she didn’t even notice. Maybe there was a problem that never got fixed. Maybe it’s just taking a lot of time. You have no idea, but you can’t help but wonder why, thinking about all the reasons that must have led to that situation.

It is fate.

That’s what a part of your mind is whispering to you, and you ask nothing more than being able to believe it, the other part trying to understand the situation without being able to make sense of it. Even after two years, the question was still in the back of your mind, and you’re almost sure that you could still use the card if you wanted to.

But you don’t, because you made a promise to yourself. You swore that, the moment you would earn enough money to support yourself, you would stop using hers. It has been a bit more than a year since you found your job, and this part of your life feels so foreign now. The only reminder of your past is that box, where you’re keeping all the cards, cheque books, and wallets you once stole. The one that’s hidden in your closet, where no one could see it, not even yourself. The one that contains a past you want to forget about.

You now have a job, an apartment, and you even made some friends on the way. They’re good people, hanging out with them makes you feel like you are too. They never asked questions about where you’re coming from, because they don’t need to know, they’re just appreciating you as you are. The grown-up version of who you were once.

When late at night guilt gnaws at your mind, you’re thinking about their compliments. When the sadness at the thought of your younger self never being loved that way, your memories with them remind you that you succeed to become someone that can be loved.

Someone that deserves everything she has.

There is only one person that had glimpses of who you were, and it’s Kate Bishop. Even if you’ve tried to keep your secrets away from her, it’s hard to do so when you’re spending all your days and nights with someone so curious.

Kate is a coworker, a roommate, but mostly your closest friend. It’s not because she understands you more than anyone else. It’s because she never makes a big deal of anything, and you know nothing you could tell her about you would change the way she acts around you. This girl is everything you want to be: free and happy.

Someone that doesn’t care about social norms.

She would sneak into your room in the middle of the night just because she heard you cry. She wouldn’t even ask questions about the reasons behind the tears, only complaining about how thin the walls are, and how she can’t sleep because of that.

She would go through your belongings when she needs something but she can’t ask you because you’re not home, only telling you when she gives the objects back.

She would answer your phone when it’s ringing while you’re in another room or your hands busy, holding the conversation as if the calls were intended for her.

That’s how she discovered you were looking for a new place to stay. You’ve only been coworkers for a few months when she answered your phone. It was the social worker who called to tell you that you’ll have to move out of your flat within the next weeks because you no longer meet the criterias.

Your first reaction was to yell at Kate. It has been the first and only time you’ve done it, usually not minding when she does it.

But this time it was different: you were scared. You didn’t know her a lot at that time, and you were fearing that this call would destroy the relationship you had started to build. You put so much effort into pretending that everything was fine, and had always been that way, that you thought the truth coming out would ruin everything.

She was the first relationship that you didn’t build on lies, at least not on the big ones. She also has been the first to be able to hold a conversation with you for a while. Not Lydia, or any name you might have borrowed by the past, but just y/n.

When you’ve spent your whole life lying, it’s not easy to know who you are.

It was a bad habit that you had a hard time quitting, still having the urge to lie about some details. Maybe to appear as a more interesting person, maybe because you are afraid to disappoint them.

No, it’s because it’s comforting.

It’s what gave you a bit of hope, what gave you the impression that you had a normal life. You’ve never been interested in living the marvelous lives of your alias, you just wanted a normal one for you. Maybe if you tell these stories a lot of time, your mind will accept them as reality.

Over the years, lying became more than a habit: it was an addiction. You felt bad every time you lied to the black-haired, even if it was only about small and insignificant things, like your favourite colour, but you couldn’t just stop. It’s only that day that you realised that it might ruin everything between the two of you.

Everything has been so easy since you met Kate. You never felt like you were too much, or in the wrong place, because she always made sure to integrate you into the team, and you’re still regretting the words that fell from your lips that day.

She was the first genuine friend you’ve made, and that’s how you thanked her kindness, with snide remarks that she didn’t deserve.

For a minute, you saw yourself back there. In that lonely and miserable place.

But she didn’t get angry. Nor for the lies, nor for the horrible things you said. She didn’t look at you with pity, but with something that was closer to surprise, as if she couldn’t quite understand your reaction, but knew enough to not judge. That’s when she asked you to be her flatmate.

Kate was the first one to learn about your favourite colour, the real one, and all your daily habits. From your favourite thing to eat for breakfast to the time you get up, she knows things you never thought you would share with someone one day. Kate has been the first one to see y/n. The one that doesn’t wear any mask, the one that does not need to pretend she is someone else.

Then, it was your turn.

Tonight, when you’re looking in the mirror, the only thing you can see is your smile. A bright, and big one. Even with makeup on, you are not looking or feeling as anyone else than yourself. Every choice has been made by you to suit your taste.

“Are you done yet?” She asked, and you could hear Kate’s muffled voice through the bathroom’s door, “we’re going to be late!” She complained for what’s probably the tenth time in the last quarter, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she was stamping her foot on the other side of the door, throwing a tantrum like a child.

“Isn’t it what celebrities are supposed to do?” you replied, a smug smile on your face as you eventually opened the door after spending more than an hour in the room.

Everything needs to be perfect, and perfection demands time, something your impatient roommate doesn’t seem to agree with. The second you stepped out of the bathroom, she grabbed your arm.

“That’s not funny!” she exclaimed as she started dragging you toward the entrance. You couldn’t help, but roll your eyes at her attitude.

You know that the real reason behind her actions isn’t a concern for punctuality, Kate always being late, but just a result of her excitement for the evening that’s coming: some friends of hers are going to play music in a bar, and she doesn’t want to miss even a second of the show. A simple glance at the clock confirms what you were thinking: you’re not late.

But you also know it’s useless to argue with the black haired woman when she is in that state of mind, so you just go along with it, letting your friend drag you toward the entrance. You have just enough time to grab your bag before you leave the apartment.

You are too focused on your footsteps to be listening to her rambling about the coming party, trying to not trip on your own feet. But she isn’t listening to you either, deaf to your pleas for her to slow down, or to let go of your arm, and it’s only when you arrive at the said bar that you get your freedom back.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧

She never forgot.

She has been thinking about what happened that night every day since. The years have gone by, but it never left her mind, and picturing all the ways in which she could get back what you owe her was soothing her to sleep every night.

Despite her impatience, she took her time, waiting for the moment you would’ve forgotten about her, when you would let your guard down, thinking that your past mistakes had been forgotten, and forgiven. Maybe your previous victims did, but she has nothing in common with these guys, and chasing you wasn’t about the money. It was about dignity.

She needed to make you feel the same shame that she had that morning.

Some of her associates don’t understand her obsession, even her sister sometimes suggested that she let it go, fearing that it would jeopardize the company. But she stayed firm; you started a game that night, and she is not the kind that appreciates losing.

She is determined to show you that two can play that game.

It wasn’t difficult to track you down. The only obstacle had been the false identity you built for yourself, but it had only been a matter of months before she found you, there was no way she couldn’t recognize your face on the security tape. It was in the middle of the night, one of those where she couldn’t sleep, and eventually decided that she would rather look for you instead of tossing and turning in her bed, consumed by her thoughts.

That’s when she found it, a footage from a shop’s security camera where your face appeared. You were nothing like the woman she met at the party, from your hair to the way you were moving, you definitely had none of Lydia’s elegance, and she couldn’t even understand how you’ve been able to pretend to be her, and how you’ve possibly been good enough to fool her, The Natasha Romanoff.

But despite the numerous differences, she was sure it was you on that video. There were details you couldn’t change, and the shape of your jaw was one of them. She could still see your face as she had you pinned beneath her that night, her fingers running along your cheeks, wishing that moment would last forever.

Since then, she kept collecting these videos as a kid would collect cards, watching them regularly. The footage made everything make sense, and you seemed closer than ever as she kept hitting the replay button.

She had to admit that you are smart, but not smart enough, and everytime you used the card was one more clue guiding her in the right direction. At first, she was able to track your movements, it only took her a few more weeks before she discovered your identity, and more importantly, learned about your past.

A few weeks, that’s all it took, yet she had waited several years before going after you, deciding it was the right time only when you started building a new life for yourself. You moved to a city where no one knew your name, you got a normal job, and haven’t stolen since. You even made some friends. You got the life you have probably dreamed about since your teenage years, and she knew that perfectly.

She also knew that the moment she would break your illusion of peace, and steal your hope of a better life, you’ll be heartbroken. Hopeless.

She saw how, as the years went by, you started to be less cautious, thinking that your past mistakes were nothing more than faded memories in your mind. She saw how you eventually stopped looking around every time you were going out, how you started opening up to your friends, seeming to forget about what you have done.

But she didn’t forget, and she promised herself that you wouldn’t either. It’s only fair that you pay for your mistakes, isn’t it?

She started the car when she saw you, and Kate, disappear round the corner. You were obviously out for the night, and it was the perfect opportunity. No one would pay attention to the disappearance of a girl, not in a crowded, dark place that reeked of alcohol and illegal substances.

| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| part one. part two.

| tag list - @thalia-is-not-ok / @tobiaslut

#a spes writing #pretty faces dark souls #marvel fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow fanfiction #dark natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #reader insert #female reader

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marveicinematics · 11 months

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the roommate (natasha x reader, smut)

Summary : You get a little too nosy about your roommate’s life, and she decides to make you forget about all your questions.

Pairing : Nathasha Romanoff x female reader.

Words : 1,345.

TW : Smut. Dirty talk, fingering, oral sex, squirting.

Note : Repost from a post I unwillingly deleted!

“Where have you been?“ You shouted when Natasha walked inside the apartment, shoving her bag against the wall before sitting down on the couch.

“Nowhere.“

Natasha had been your roommate for three weeks, now. Most of the time, the two of you had fun. It was nights out with drinks, watching Netflix all day long, ordering pizza while chatting about your ex-lovers and experiences. You found out about pieces of her life, mostly insignificant details. Like, that one time she had a threesome with two girls in a luxury hotel bathroom. Details that were described enough for you to start soaking your panties right next to her, sitting on the damn couch.

Natasha was attractive. No, she was stunning and hot and mostly fuckable. You stopped counting the number of times you pleasured yourself thinking about her body and how sassy she was. Her whole attitude was making you weak on your knees, and you stopped trying to hide it, at some point.

But Natasha was hiding so much from you. One of the things she refused to tell you was where she was, when she disappeared for days.

“You know I almost called the cops, right? It’s been almost a week.“

“Missing me, babe?“ She teased, a smirk on her face as your cheeks turned a warmer shade of red hearing the pet name she just gave you.

“I was worried.“ You replied, crossing your arms against your chest.

The seriousness emanating from your stance must have cool her down, because she sighed loudly, and left the living room, walking straight toward her bedroom.

“Natasha, wait!“ You shouted, following her, determined to find out what your roommate was up to.

She simply ignored your plead, entering the bedroom without giving you a look. When you arrived, Natasha was standing nearby her bed, her t-shirt shoved on the floor, revealing a push-up bra you had never seen before. It wasn’t the first time you saw Natasha half-naked, but you couldn’t help to stop and stare. Fuck, she was the definition of sex appeal.

“Like what you see, babe?“

She must have noticed your reaction, because she didn’t look as bothered from your presence, now. Her smirk was back on her face and this sparkle in her eyes would let you know that she wasn’t going to let you go this easily.

“I’m sorry, we will talk later.“ You mumbled, taking a step back as Natasha was walking towards you.

“Oh, come on.“ She said, closing the space in between you. “You seem so stressed, lately. Let me take care of you, just for once, okay? You know I’m good at this.“

You froze. It wasn’t because of the fact that she mentioned that you looked stressed lately, despite the fact that you hadn’t seen her in days. It wasn’t because of the way her hand grabbed your shorts to push them down your legs, revealing your panties. No, you froze because no matter how many times you had thought about Natasha fucking you senseless, hearing her say it made your pussy clenched faster than ever before.

“Oh, my god. Someone’s wet already.“

You didn’t even realize how her fingers disappeared between your bodies before she actually touched you. Right there, rubbing your clit through the fabric of the panties, making moan louder than you should have. She was right, you were already wet for her. And you had no idea how to control it.

Your mouth found hers, and it was really your only reaction. Kissing her, tasting her pink lips for the first time, so she wouldn’t say anything that would make you dripping wet in a matter of seconds. Natasha reciprocated the kiss so fiercely, as if she had been waiting for it. Maybe she was. You were, at least. You thought about it every time she smiled, every time she bit down her lower lip, every time you heard moans coming from her room and you knew she had her own hand buried deep between her thighs.

You were getting sweaty just from the kiss and the way her fingers worked wonders against your panties. Taking one step back, you took your shirt off, revealing your naked chest. Once again, that sparkle in Nat’s eyes. You knew you were in for a good time. Laying down on her bed, you spread your legs as wide as you could. She crawled on the bed, right between your thighs, and it was the most erotic vision you ever had. Her expert hands took your panties off your body and, before you knew it, her mouth was against your pussy, devouring it.

“Fuck, Nat!“ You screamed as you felt her tongue licking your slits eagerly, eyes locked with yours. “That’s so hot, baby.“

You felt her fingers tightening against your thighs, probably leaving bruises along the way, but you loved it. Eyes rolling back and heart racing, you felt Nat’s tongue entering your cunt as deep as she could. It wasn’t just a guess, you already knew this would be the best fuck of your life.

“Oh god, yes. Keep going, please.“

You didn’t even know why you were so talkative. As if she was going to stop. Her fingers started massaging your clit, and soon enough she was ruthlessly touching it, sending shivers down your spine.

“Wait,“ you tried to speak between loud moans, feeling your pussy clench around her tongue already. “You’re gonna... You’re gonna make me cum.“

It didn’t seem to stop her. Her tongue left your pussy, only for two of her fingers to dive deep inside you, curling just a little, exactly how you needed it — right there. Fingering you as hard as she could, her second hand was still abusing your swollen clit. You felt it build, stronger and stronger, deep inside yourself. It wasn’t like any orgasm you had before. It was deep and strong, it was taking its time, making you scream in anticipation. She took you right there, on the edge of the most breath-taking orgasm. Your legs trembling already, the sound of her fingers slamming inside your wet pussy, your heavy breath as you felt everything around you spin.

And you came, squirting on her bed in a way you never even knew was possible. You came hard, screaming incoherent words as her fingers kept fucking you.

“That’s it, baby“ you heard her say, “let it all out“. And her fingers wouldn’t stop, even when you thought you were done.

“Natasha, I can’t...— Oh my god, oh my god, yes.“

She didn’t stop, even after you finished squirting. Her fingers covered with your orgasm, she kept fucking your oversensitive pussy harder than before. You felt it build again inside you, so quickly. There was no way she was making you cum again, was there?

“Once again, be a good girl, yeah?“

You don’t even know why you nodded, whispering “yes“. You were just lost in pleasure and sensations you had never ever felt before. The orgasm was nearing again, and Natasha could feel it. While she fingered you a little slower, her tongue found your clit, licking it up and down expertly. Once again, your eyes rolled back. And once again, you knew she was going to make you cum. Hard.

One of your hand grabbed her hair, pushing her face against your needy cunt. You wanted to cum, you needed it. Your hips started to thrust back at her fingers’ pace, feeling them slamming harder and deeper inside you. Damn, she was hitting that spot again.

“Fuck, I’m coming again. Baby, don’t stop, I’m coming again!“

It was only a matter of seconds, and you were riding your second orgasm. Not as strong as the first one, but enough for you to see stars and heavens.

“Oh! Fuck!“ You screamed shamelessly. “Natasha, fuck fuck fuck fuck yes!“

Your dirty mouth seemed to amuse her. When you opened your eyes again, she was staring down at you, smirking again.

“Up for round two, babe?“

That’s when you knew. Natasha would not let you sleep, tonight.

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sapphic-coded · 8 months

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hey beautiful could u write about a nat x reader break up and there’s so much tension between them until they both break at a dinner party with the team and their dates 😋

Hey Friend! You're so sweet. I hope this lands somewhere in the ballpark of what you were hoping for. Thank you for the request!

No Use In You Trying, Baby

You are invited to a dinner party. Reluctantly, you go and run into your ex.

Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader

Warnings: Hurt feelings. Language Cap wouldn't approve of.

Word Count: 2.8k

You were content to spend all your time in your lab. It was your happy place. Your playground. This was where you could think clearly, and where all your best ideas originated from. Plus, it wasn’t as if you were hiding away in some basement cut off from the outside world. Your lab at the Compound was huge and had plenty of equally huge windows that allowed plenty of bright, warm sunlight in. And if you needed to socialize, there were plenty of people who walked by your lab daily.

But you didn’t want to socialize. You wanted to focus on your work because for the first time in months you were finally making progress. Broken equipment and weapons that had just been sitting in your lab were finally leaving polished and new. Projects that had just only been sitting nestled in the back of your mind were suddenly finding life. It was amazing what you could accomplish in a single day without any distractions.

You rolled backwards on your black swivel chair as you stared at your notes on the yellow legal pad in your hands. You were curious what Clint would think of your idea for this new arrow. The idea had come to you last night, and you had been thinking about it ever since. The back of your chair pressed against one of the many lab tables. You lowered your notepad and turned. All thoughts regarding your new arrow idea fled at the sight of the batons laying on the table.

You held the batons in your hands and your brow furrowed as your thumbs pressed down on the button built into the base of the weapon. The usual quiet hum of the electrical discharge was silent. You tapped both of the batons together as if that would fix the problem, but nothing changed.

A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind. Familiar, warm hands settled against your stomach while her chin came to rest over your left shoulder.

“I tried that too,” her voice brushed against your ear.

You sighed as you studied the twin weapons. “It shouldn’t be too hard to fix. It’s probably a broken conductor or…” You trailed off when you felt her hands travel lower. Her fingers slipped underneath the hem of your shirt.

Who the hell put those there?

“Incoming call from Mr. Stark,” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice penetrated the quiet of your lab.

You stood up and collected the batons. “Put him through.” You listened as Tony’s voice echoed throughout your lab. You carried the batons over to a growing stack of boxes running along the right side of your lab. You opened up the lid on one of the cardboard boxes as Tony went into detail about partnering up on another project he had in mind. You listened for key words while your thumb pressed down on the button at the base of one of the batons. You frowned. Still broken.

“I also need you at the Tower tonight,” Tony said.

You dumped the batons into the box. “Why?”

“Because I’m throwing together a little dinner party,” Tony replied. “Just the team. We haven’t done one of those in a while.”

“I’m busy,” your reply was automatic.

“You finished your last official project two weeks ago.”

“I’m working through my backlog,” you replied.

“Fine,” Tony said. There was a moment of quiet when you wondered if he had hung up the phone. Your question was answered when you turned your back to the boxes. “I’ll be very interested to see how you manage to do that without any power.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Trust me, I’m wearing my serious face,” Tony replied. “I can demonstrate if you want.”

The lights in your lab flickered.

“Fine. I’ll be there.”

– – –

You used to spend most of your time at Avengers Tower. This was where you got your start working for Tony Stark. When you first arrived at the Tower, you thought the labs there couldn’t get any better. You had been allowed to play around with tech you could only fantasize about. The amount of resources you had at your disposal was endless. It was fun. You loved creating weapons and upgrading equipment for the team. There were few things better than challenging yourself to create something better than the perfect project you just finished.

When you entered the Tower, you were tempted to just go to your old floor. You hadn’t been able to move everything from your old lab to your new one at the Compound. Playing around with what you had left behind seemed like a better idea than attending a dinner party. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see the team. You did. But it hadn’t even been a month since your last conversation with Natasha. The one that had ended badly. You knew she would be here, and the last thing you wanted to do was see her. Because then everything you had been ignoring would come rushing back. You wouldn’t know what to say, and everything would just be easier if you kept your distance.

Too bad you weren’t going to get what you wanted.

When you reached the top floor, Tony was the first to greet you. It seemed you were the last to arrive as the rest of the team were talking amongst each other. You spotted familiar faces. Most of the team had brought along their dates. It made you want to leave even more, but you put on your best smile as you made small talk with the team. Thor was in the middle of telling you a tale of his most recent battle when you saw her.

She was standing near the bar talking to Laura. Despite trying your best to focus on Thor’s story, you couldn’t help but notice that she looked beautiful. Then again, Natasha always looked stunning. The black dress she wore now only complimented her features. Or rather, the dress acted more like a reminder of a lost privilege. You gripped your glass of expensive wine tighter at the thought. Privilege? You hadn’t lost anything like that. Just a relationship that was bound to crash and burn.

“...and then he went flying off the mountain,” Thor’s laugh drew your attention back to the god. “Never thought it’d end like that.” He shook his head and then took a long drink from his flask. “So, I hear you spend your time forging new weapons.”

“Uh, yeah,” you looked past Thor. Natasha smiled at something Laura had said. Stop it. You focused back on Thor and started talking about all the projects you had completed recently. You chose to only talk about the projects you knew would keep Thor’s attention: equipment upgrades, a very close to being completed laser sword, and an attempt to copy his hammer. He found that last bit very funny.

You were grateful when everyone was summoned to the table for the actual dinner. All you had to do now was eat the food, make a tiny amount of more small talk, and then you could leave. You already had your excuses prepared. But as you approached the table, you realized that Tony had thrown a curveball your way. Tony had gone through (or rather he had someone else go through) and assigned the team seats. You already had an idea of where this was going, and your suspicion was confirmed when you found your seat right next to Natasha.

You looked over at Tony. He winked at you, and you were tempted to leave. Instead, you sat down in your seat and set your expensive wine down on the table. You could do this. She hadn’t approached you yet this entire evening. The feeling of not wanting to interact with each other was mutual. You both could talk to other people. This was fine.

The smell of her perfume hit you first. It grabbed hold of you and yanked you back through countless memories. You remembered the smell of jasmine with the barest hint of vanilla flooding your senses when she pulled you in for that first kiss. You remembered how your legs turned to jelly, and you were terrified that you were going to fall. You didn’t fall. Somehow, you stayed on your feet until the kiss was over. Your mind had gone blank. You had felt painfully dumb. What were you supposed to do?

She smiled as her hands settled at your waist. “Aren’t you going to kiss me back?”

You looked to your left as she sat down in her seat. She looked gorgeous and happy. As if nothing life altering had happened. You felt a spike of jealousy. She probably had forgotten all about you by now. Breaking off your relationship hadn’t changed anything for her. You had been right to doubt your relationship all along. You had only been a convenient fuck. You were so stupid to believe all those promises she made you. She certainly couldn’t keep many of them.

You looked away and took a good, long drink of whatever Tony had poured into your glass. A wait staff appeared and set plates filled with delicious smelling food down in front of everyone. You set your now empty glass down, and another waiter appeared to refill it. You picked up your knife and fork and began cutting into the meat. You could do this. You should just pretend she isn’t here. Rogers was sitting to your right. You could always just make conversation with him.

“Is this what we’re doing now?” her voice was low enough for only you to catch.

You forced yourself to keep your focus on your plate as you continued to cut into the meat. Red juices leaked from what was probably a delicious cut of meat. “Yup.” You stabbed your fork into the tender meat and pushed it into your mouth. You chewed. Fuck. It was good. You heard her sigh, and you didn’t need to look at her to know she was also, most likely, shaking her head.

“It’s a bad move,” she said.

You bit back the first thought that came to mind and continued to eat.

“This is obviously a setup. They’re trying to fix things,” she continued when you didn’t respond.

You looked around at the table as you chewed. Everyone else was busy talking amongst themselves. You swallowed and still refused to look at her. “There’s nothing to fix.” She didn’t respond right away and you reached for your glass. Maybe this was all about to end.

“Then I suggest we play along unless you want to go through this again,” she said.

You set your glass down before you could take a sip and finally looked over at her. “I’m not going to play along.” You spotted the familiar look of frustration cross her face. It didn’t surprise you. Whenever you refused to go along with any of her plans, she got annoyed with you. You should have known from the very beginning that this relationship was never going to work. You felt stupid for even trying.

“Fine. I guess I’ll see you at the next dinner party,” Natasha looked away from you.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you stabbed your fork into another piece of meat. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be too busy to attend the next one.”

“Didn’t you already try that excuse?” she asked.

You shoveled the piece of meat into your mouth and chewed. You didn’t bother to ask how she knew that. It was Natasha. She knew everything about you. You hated it. You hated that she was right. You hated sitting here so close to her. Every minute that passed was just more reminders of what had made you happy. It was gone, and you just wanted it all to stay dead. Why hadn’t Natasha shown up with the date? Why didn't you? You could think of a dozen ways you could have approached this whole stupid thing differently.

“Y/N,” her voice was softer now and you felt a burning behind your eyes.

“I can’t do this,” you heard the waver in your voice. You shouldn’t have come. You knew what would happen. You knew you would see her. You knew you would feel all these things. You weren’t sure if you couldn’t hear the other conversations happening around the table because people had stopped talking or because your quickening heart beat was now filling your ears. “I can’t.”

You felt her hand fall over your own, and you quickly snatched your hand back and stood up. You felt the rest of the team’s eyes on you as you quickly left. You heard their voices all rise up as one, but you didn’t look back. You just needed to leave. Get some fresh air. Go back to the Compound and forget about all of this.

Your pace quickened as you left the team behind and hurried towards the elevator. You were grateful that the doors parted immediately upon pushing the button. You stepped inside and pressed the button that would take you down to the garage. Your vision blurred and you felt a hot tear spill down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away. Stupid. This had been stupid. The doors started to close and just when you thought your escape was complete, Natasha slipped into the elevator.

The doors shut completely and you shook your head. “No.” Your hand reached out towards the panel of buttons. You went to push the button that would force the elevator doors back open, but Natasha grabbed your hand before you could. “Let go, Nat. I’m not going back to that stupid party.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” she said and released your hand the moment the elevator began to descend.

Your hand dropped back down to your side. “Then why are you here?” You realized that was the wrong question to ask as her red lips parted to answer. You shook your head. “No! No. I don’t want to know. Just leave me alone.”

She took a small step closer to you, and you instinctively stepped back and felt your back pressed against the cool wall of the elevator. “You’re not even going to give me a chance?”

“A chance to do what? Lure me back to your side with more fake promises of some happy life together? You can’t use that bullshit on me anymore. I was just a convenient fuck for you,” you felt another tear slip, and you used the back of your hand to wipe it away.

“You broke up with me,” she argued.

“Because you pushed me away,” your voice wavered again, and you hated it. “Every time I tried to help or understand, you kept me out. The only time you let me in was when you wanted to fuck me. The only time you wanted me around was if you wanted to have sex with me. I wasn’t your girlfriend. I was your toy.”

“I know.”

You were ready for anything. You had replayed all your arguments in your head hundreds of times. You were ready for any of her arguments. Except for that. Those two words caught you completely off guard.

“I messed up,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”

What was happening? This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. You were supposed to argue back and forth until you were both spent and upset and eager to get away from each other.

“Please let me try again.”

She had somehow managed to get even closer to you. Her voice was soft, and her olive green eyes were searching your face. She was trying to gauge your emotions. You could only wonder what she saw because you didn’t know how to feel. Tears still threatened to spill down your cheeks from all the pain you had been shoving down these past few weeks. Walking away from her had hurt so much. Because you did love her, and it had killed you to realize that she didn’t love you.

You wanted to leap at this chance. You wanted it so badly, but you were hesitant. You had barely been able to walk away from her last time. You weren’t sure you would be able to do it again if all of this happened again. But you wanted to believe it wouldn’t. You wanted to believe that there was still some life in this dying husk of a relationship.

You didn’t realize what had happened until her lips were pressed against yours. It felt like your first kiss all over again, only better. It felt familiar. The kiss was soft but needy. It reminded you of all the other ways she had kissed you before. The smell of her perfume flooded your senses, and you just wanted to collapse into her arms. You were tired of being angry. Tired of being upset. You wanted this. The kiss ended far too soon, and you started to lean forward to chase her retreating lips.

You saw her smile when the elevator reached the garage floor, and the doors opened. You didn’t make any move to leave. Instead, you waited for the elevator doors to close before you leaned forward to kiss her back.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic #fanfic request #sapphic september #i'm tempted to write a part two but i'm not sure

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angelltheninth · 4 days

Note

Hugging them from behind/laying their head on the other's shoulder with Natasha Romanov? I need her like I need air.

And we will never see her again! Unless its in animated form. Or in Yelena's flashbacks. I'm sorry I made this sad. Take fluff now.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, neck kisses, domestic bliss, Natasha is soft for you

A/N: Prompt is from this list.

1. Hugging them from behind/laying their head on the other's shoulder

She could tell you were appriaching, Natasha was always aware of her surroundings but around you she didn't have to be in a fight or flight mode. It was a good different use for her assassin skillset.

"Hips." She smiled to herself as she felt your arms circle around her. You pulled her away from he kitchen counter and buried your nose in her short hair.

"You stole my shampoo."

"I did not. It was sitting there next to the mirror, unguarded. So I helped myself to it. I think it suits me." Among your shampoo she also had a knack for taking your clothes. However it was always returned washed. You couldn't tell her not to do it, she looked better in your outfits then you did. "Shoulder."

Right as you leaned your chin against her shoulder you felt her pull the shirt down. The newly exposed skin made you gulp. "Neck?" You asked already wetting your lips.

"Alright. Since you asked nicely." Natasha leaned her head to the side and sighed when she felt your lips press against her neck.

"You knew I was gonna do that didn't you?" She laughed as she folded her arms over yours. Gently she began to sway with the non-esxistant music, you following quickly. "I love you, Nat. I'm happy you're here."

"I'm happy I'm here too, with you." There was no place in the entire multiverse she'd rather be. Her place, the place where she was at her happiest, was in your arms.

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arlana-likes-to-write · 5 months

Text

Christmas Star

!!There are spoilers in the warnings!!

Summary: On Christmas day, you had the realization you wanted to give your wife a gift that neither of you have talked about, a baby. In your eyes, Natasha was going to be a great mother and no matter what you had to go through you were going to give her, her Christmas gift.

Warning: birth, labor, contractions, miscarriage, c-section, blood lost, angst with fluff and a happy ending.

Word Count: 3.9k

You were standing on the porch of the Barton Homestead with a cup of coffee in your hands. It was lightly snowing as the Barton Kids and Kate and Yelena played in the yard. It was only 8 am, but you were exhausted. You and Natasha were up late with Clint and Laura to prepare for Christmas morning. Then Nathaniel woke up at 5 am. So, presents were unwrapped, breakfast was eaten, and the kids were dressed for the snow. It was a long day, but your heart was whole. You felt arms wrapped around your waist and leaned into her warmth. “I was looking for you, moya lyubov’.” She said, kissing your cheek. She played with the ring on your finger.

“Sorry, baby. I was watching them.” She hummed, burrowing her face in your neck. Her warm breath caused goosebumps to form on your skin. You and Natasha have been married for two years but together for 7. You weren’t an Avenger, a SHIELD agent, or a mutant. You were just an everyday citizen who happened to catch the eye of the Russian spy. You were a chief, and Tony Stark hired you and your team for a party. Right off the bat, Natasha started flirting with you, but you ignored her, focusing on doing a good job. Somehow, you woke up the following day with a text message from the Black Widow asking you out on a date. The rest was history. “Do you want kids?” You asked. Your wife’s arms tensed up. You spun around in her arms and ran your hands up and down her arms as a sign of comfort. “I know we haven’t talked about it.” The topic danced around as you knew Natasha couldn’t carry kids because of the Red Room. “But do you want them?” Natasha looked over her shoulder to watch the Barton kids. She sighed.

“Yeah, I’d love to be a mother.” She looked back at you. “But I can’t have them. We could adopt. I-”

“I can carry them.” You cut her off. She looked at you in disbelief. You grabbed her hands and rested them on your stomach.

“Are you serious about this?” She asked. You nodded.

“I haven’t been this serious about anything.” You chuckled. “Well, besides asking you to marry me.” Natasha had tears in her eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I asked you to marry me.” You shrugged, put your arms around her neck, and played with the baby hairs that didn’t fit into her ponytail. “We are going to be parents.” She said, pulling you into a hug and lifting you off the ground. You laughed, shaking your head. She was going to be a great mother.

You were pacing the bathroom while waiting for your phone timer to go off. Natasha was in a meeting, and you timed it so you would get the test result by the time she returned. It had been a few weeks from Christmas at the Bartons. With help from Helen, Bruce, and Tony, they combined Natasha’s DNA with a few of your eggs so your child would both be yours. You were extremely anxious. You wanted to give this to Natasha more than anything. The sound of your phone timer going off made you jump. With shaky hands, you picked up the test, and tears immediately ran down your cheeks as you looked at the tiny plus sign. “Baby, where are you?” You heard your wife ask. You whipped away the tears.

“Bathroom.” You turned around as the door opened.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Natasha asked, closing the distance between you and her. Before you could respond, she picked up the test. “Positive.” She said, looking at you. You nodded. The Russian dropped the pregnancy test and picked you up. You laughed as she spun you around. Your wife put you down, knelt so she was at eye level with your stomach, and lifted your shirt. She kissed your stomach softly. Her sweet gesture made you cry harder. She looked up at you with tears in her eyes. “We are going to have a baby.” She said. You nodded, cupping her face with your hands.

“You are going to be a mom.” She turned her head to kiss your palms.

“So are you.”

There was nothing that could prepare you for the weird pregnancy cravings. No amount of books you’ve read or researched online. Pregnancy cravings were wild. So you were in the Avenger’s kitchen making a dough of sugar cookies to drizzle chocolate and hot sauce over the top. It was….different.

As your alarm went off to signify the cookies were done, you put on the oven mitts and opened the oven. Pulling out the cookie tray, you gasped as a sharp pain ran through your stomach, and you dropped the tray. The metal clashing against the ground made you jump, causing another acute pain. “Mrs. Romanoff, it appears you are in a sign of distress. Should I alert the medical team?” The AI asked.

“Yes, FRIDAY,” you gritted out as your teeth clenched. “Tell Natasha.”

“As you wish.”

Natasha ran to the med bay as soon as FRIDAY alerted her of your medical emergency, leaving her meeting with Steve and Maria without another word. Part of her wish was that she could make portals like Strange so she didn’t have to wait for the elevator. As the metal doors opened and she walked into the med bay, Yelena awaited her. She wasn’t sure who alerted her sister, but she was grateful she was there. “Where is she?” Natasha asked her sister. Yelena held up her hands to stop her.

“Cho and Banner are with her.” She said.

“Is she okay? Yelena, I need to see her.” Panic spread through her at how quiet her sister was. You had to be okay. No matter what, Natasha could not lose you. The sound of a door open caused her to spin around, and she watched as Bruce walked out, closing it gently behind her. The Black Widow ran over to the scientist. “Bruce, is she okay?” Natasha couldn’t pinpoint the emotion on the doctor’s face.

“She’s okay, Nat.” he sighed. “But she had a miscarriage.” A miscarriage?

“Okay,” she simply said. “Can I see her?” She heard her sister’s footsteps walking up to her.

“She lost the baby,” Yelena said slowly. “You understand that, right?” She nodded. Of course, she knew what a miscarriage was. Before Laura was pregnant with Nate, she had a miscarriage. She called Natasha in a panic but tried to enforce that she didn’t need Clint. The Black Widow told Clint right away.

“I know,” she nodded again. “And it’s-” there weren’t words to describe everything she felt. “Yeah, but I need to see her, please.” Bruce smiled.

“Helen is with her,” he said. “She hasn’t said much since we told her the news.” Natasha wished they waited to tell them together. She buried the emotions that threatened to take her over and walked into the room Bruce existed from. As the scientist said, Helen sat beside you in the empty chair. She stood up as Natasha walked over to the bed and smiled sadly.

“Please let me know if you need anything.” The Black Widow couldn’t find anything as she moved next to you. You were curled underneath the covers with silent tears running down your cheeks.

“Hi, sweetheart,” You made no indication that you heard her. “Baby,” You silently reached for her hand and pulled her into the bed with you. Natasha moved behind you and wrapped her arms around you. You turned around to press your face in her shirt. Your body shook with sobs. “Sh, sweet girl. You’re okay.” You shook your head.

“I’m sorry.” The two-word phrase took a lot of work to hear.

“Why are you sorry?” She asked, kissing the top of your head.

“I lost our baby,” Natasha shook her head. She let you cry against her, but as your cries turned to quiet hiccups, she lifted your head.

“This is not your fault, my love. These things happen.” Your lips started to tremble. “I can’t imagine the pain you are going through, but this isn’t your fault, and I will remind you every single day.” You burrowed your head into her shoulder.

“I wanted to make you a mom.” You said. Natasha closed her eyes as she felt her tears. You were breaking her heart.

“I know, moya lyubov’,” she whispered, running her hand through your hair. “And we’ll try again when you are ready, or we can figure out another option, okay?” She felt you nod. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Natty.”

“Natasha!” You called out. You were standing in the master bathroom, looking in the full-length mirror.

“Are you alright?” Your wife asked, barging into the bathroom. You looked behind you.

“Oh, I’m fine.” Natasha huffed, placing a hand on her heart.

“You,” she took a minute to catch her breath. “You are going to give me a heart attack.” You giggled, holding out her hand. She took it, and you pulled her close, her front pressed against your back. “What’s going on?” Instead of answering, you placed her hands on your stomach. She looked confused, but her face morphed into awe. “Is that?” She whispered. You nodded. Getting pregnant took three more tries, but now you are carrying twin girls.

“They are little gymnasts.” Natasha laughed, looking down at your stomach.

“Be kind to your mother, little ones.” You turned around to kiss her.

“I love you so much.” You said against her lips.

“Not as much as I love you.” You heard the pounding of footsteps entering your shared bedroom.

“You better not be making me another niece or nephew.” It was your only warning before the bathroom door opened, and Yelena walked in. “At least wait till they are born before you start trying to have another.” You felt your body heat up from embarrassment, burying your head into Natasha’s neck.

“Suka (bitch),” Natasha said. Yelena laughed.

“The party is starting soon. We are just waiting for the guest of honor.” You rolled your eyes, stepped away from your wife, and grabbed your sister-in-law’s hand. When you placed her hand on your stomach, the blonde looked at you confused. "Whoa," she said when she felt the baby’s kick. “That is so weird.” You giggled.

“This is your tetya (aunt) Yelena.” Your Russian could have been better, but with so many people in your life who spoke the language, you figured you should learn it. The blonde had tears in her eyes, but she forced them away.

“I can not wait to get you all the loud toys and fill you with sugar.” You rolled your eyes with a kind smile. “Ya vsegda budu zashcishchat tebya (I will always protect you).” She smiled, whipping away a tear, and left. Natasha stood beside you with an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

“What did she say?” You asked. She smiled, shaking her head.

“Nothing bad, I promise. Come on, let’s go to this baby shower.”

Christmas Eve

You couldn’t find the hat you wanted, which generally wouldn’t be a big deal, but at seven months pregnant, your emotions and hormones were all over the place. “Dorogoy, we are going to be late,” Natasha said.

“I can’t find my hat.” You pouted. Natasha was an angel throughout this entire pregnancy. She dealt with every pregnancy craving, morning sickness, and mood swing. You couldn’t have done it without her. She smiled at the pout on your face.

“And what hat is that?” She asked.

“The one Lila made me for my birthday. I wanted to wear it because she’ll be at the party.” You explained.

“I think she’ll understand. Come on, krasivyy (beautiful), we will be late.” You rolled your eyes. The party was at the compound, and since you lived on the property of the compound, it was a 5-minute drive. The house was a gift from Tony and Pepper when you announced you were pregnant. It was far enough from the compound to have a sense of privacy but close enough if Natasha had to be pulled away for Avenger duty.

“Can you go check my closet one more time for me?” You asked, putting on your best puppy dog eyes. Your wife huffed, rolling her own eyes.

“I will go look.” You smiled, standing up and kissing her.

“You are the best.” She kissed your forehead.

“Make sure you grab your coat, okay?” You nodded, walking to the front door as Natasha approached your shared bedroom. You opened the coat closet and grabbed your winter jacket. You heard a pop and felt pressure in your pelvic area. The black leggings you wore felt wet as if you went to the bathroom. You gasped, placing your hands on your stomach.

“I found it,” Natasha said, rounding the corner. You looked at your wife as she had the crochet hat in her hand.

“My water just broke.” You said. She stared at you blankly. You’ve never seen her so speechless. You groaned at the first contraction. “Natalia!” Her name snapped her out of her trance. She dropped your hat and grabbed your pregnancy bag in the same closet. You held onto her hand. “It’s too soon.” You said, squeezing her hand. “I can’t go into labor. I can’t.”

“Sh, dorogoy. We are going to call Helen on the way.” You nodded as Natasha helped you exit the house and into the car.

Natasha kept herself calm. She needed to because she knew if she freaked out, you would freak out. FRIDAY alerted the doctor and was already at the compound due to the Christmas party. You held onto her hand tightly each time a concentration passed. “Are you okay?” She cringed at the question. “Forget I asked that. That was stupid.” Of course, you weren’t doing okay. You chuckled, wincing as another contraction came through.

“It’s fine,” you said and rubbed your swollen belly. “You know I love you, right? Because I’m not sure I want to go through this again.” Natasha laughed, squeezing your hand.

“One way to kick off the holiday season.”

Helen opened up the passenger door and helped you into the wheelchair. “Well, isn’t this a Christmas surprise,” the doctor smiled and put a blanket over your lap. “They sure know how to make an entrance.” She began to push you towards the door to the med bay.

“They get that from you,” you said to Natasha over your shoulder. The Black Widow shook her head. You saw the worried edge on her forehead. She hated any time you were in pain or sick. The doors opened as Helen and Yelena, Wanda, and Laura got closer. The blonde Black Widow smirked.

“You know I was looking forward to getting drunk off of Stark’s expensive liquor,” you smiled, winching as another painful concentration passed through. The smile on your sister-in-law’s face fell.

“There may still be time for that,” Laura said. “Just because she’s having concentrations doesn’t mean the babies are ready,” the small group followed Helen to a room. “It may be a while.” The mother of three hugged you. Oh, you hoped it wouldn’t take forever.

“We’ll be waiting outside,” Wanda hugged you. Yelena placed a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m excited to get my drinking partner back.” You smiled.

“Alright,” Helen said. “Let’s get you all set up.”

“And on some pain medication.”

“You’re doing great, detka,” Natasha said, rubbing a spot on your lower back that was killing you. “Just keep breathing.” You groaned, hands grabbing the blankets that covered you on the hospital bed.

“Natasha, darling,” you said. “If you tell me to breathe one more time, I’m gonna punch you.” The hand on your back stuttered but never stopped its movement. Yelena laughed, shaking her head at your comment. She never stopped playing a game on her phone that Cooper and Kate got her addicted to.

“Your wife is funny,” she chuckled. The door opened, and Helen walked in, followed by a nurse. Her name was Heather, you liked her.

“Alright,” Helen put on a pair of gloves. “Let’s see how we are doing.” You heard Yelena stand up.

“That is my cue to exist,” she said. “I hope Wanda brought back some good food.” She left the room. Natasha chuckled, kissing the top of your head. Heather walked over to check your vitals with a clipboard in hand. You needed to figure out what Helen was saying. Your head began to feel light and fuzzy. The sound in the room turned to white noise, like in a Charlie Brown episode when the adults would speak. Your head fell against Natasha.

“Dr. Cho, the heart rate of mom and the babies are dropping,” Heather said. You felt Natasha tense up.

“What-?” Helen moved next to you and rested your head on the pillow, then shone a light into your eyes.

“Heather, prepare the team. We need to do an emergency c-section. Take Natasha out of the room.” What? No. You wanted her to say. Please don’t take her away.

Natasha felt the nurse grab her arm, but she shrugged her off. “Helen, what is happening?” The doctor looked at her.

“Nat, I need you to leave to save your wife.” Save her wife? Save her wife? What was happening?

“The-the babies,” you stuttered, your eyes couldn’t focus. Natasha leaned forward and kissed your forehead.

“Don’t leave me, dorogoy,” she whispered, leaving with Heather. The door closed in front of her.

“Nat,” she heard her name but couldn’t pull her eyes away from the door. “What happened?”

“Her uh and the uh twins heart rate started to drop,” Natasha explained. “She needs an emergency c-section.”

“Jesus,” Yelena mumbled.

“Hey,” Laura grabbed her hand and led her to a chair. Her legs collapsed immediately, and she fell into the chair. “C-sections are pretty common these days, especially with twins.” Wanda sat down next to her in the empty chair.

“She’s in the best care,” the witch added. “Helen will take care of her.”

“I can’t lose her,” Natasha admitted. Yelena knelt in front of her sister.

“And you won’t. She is strong. She and the twins will come back to you.”

“Will you stop pacing?” Yelena snapped at Clint. Kate squeezed her hand to keep her calm. The older archer kept pacing, not bothered by the blonde’s threat. As soon as word got out regarding your condition, the party was called off, and the hallway was filled with the rest of the team. Some came and went, but Natasha paid little attention to any of them. Her green eyes trained on the tile floor as she played with her wedding ring.

There was too much time passing. Does this surgery usually take this long? If there were a problem, they would have notified her. Right? Natasha hated feeling this useless. She heard Yelena stand next to her, and the blonde gave her a lap on the back of her head to get her attention. Looking up, she saw Helen.

“Congratulations, Natasha,” the doctor smiled. “You have two beautiful baby girls.” Everyone let out a sigh of relief, but Natasha waited. She was happy they were healthy but needed to know about you. “Your wife lost a lot of blood, but she’ll pull through,” Helen answered the Black Widow’s unanswered question. “We’ve sedated her to help her body recover, but once they wear off, she will wake up.” Natasha sighed; a weight that rested on her chest was gone.

“Can I see them?” Natasha asked. Helen nodded. The Black Widow stood up and silently asked Yelena and Laura to join her. When she entered your room, she saw two bassinets with her daughters, but she made a beeline for you. You were so still and pale for her liking. The only reassurance she had was the beeping of the machines you were hooked up to. Gently, she ran her hand over the top of her hand.

“They’re so small,” Yelena whispered. “Are they supposed to be that small?” Laura hummed.

“It’s because they are premature,” Laura spoke softly. “They’ll get bigger over time. Nat,” The Black Widow looked away from you. “You should be the first one to hold them.”

“Me?” She slowly joined the duo and saw her daughters for the first time. They were a perfect blend of you and her. “I can’t. I don’t-”

“Yes, you can,” Yelena said. “You are their mama,” she’s held a baby before, and that wasn’t the problem. She imagined the first she kept her daughters; you would be healthy enough to witness it. Sighing, she carefully picked up the tiny baby with your hair color. She supported her head and held her close to her chest. Natasha let out a breathless laugh, tears forming at the corner of her eyes.

“You’re a natural,” Laura praised. Yelena leaned against Natasha’s arm to look at her niece.

“I can’t believe you made something this cute,” Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Thank you both,” she said. “Can you give me a minute alone?” They both told her to get them if she needed anything. When alone, she moved the bassinet over to you and sat in the empty chair. She sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the machines.

“Hi, little ones,” she softly spoke. “I’m your mama. Your mommy did such a great job protecting you, and now she’s resting,” she explained. “Now it’s my turn.”

Soft singing woke you up, but you kept your eyes closed. You knew it was your wife’s voice. It was rare you caught her singing. Sometimes, it was humming a simple tone or singing the words to a popular song on the radio you cherished each time you saw her. She would become flustered, cheeks as red as her hair. The song was in Russian. The fog that was over your brain was allowing a few words in. Slowly, you opened your eyes and turned your head towards the sound. Natasha was so invested in the tiny baby in her arms with hair that matched your own color that she didn’t notice you were awake. “Hi, my love,” you made your presence known. The singing stopped. “Are they okay?” Natasha stared at you, blinking a few times as if her brain wasn’t processing that you were awake.

“They are perfect,” Natasha said. “You are perfect.” You sat up, winching slightly. “Take it easy, data.”

“Can I hold her?” You asked, holding out your arms. Natasha stood up without hesitation and put your daughter in your arms. Once she was secure, Natasha picked up her sister and sat on the edge of your bed. “My girls,” you whispered, your vision blurring with tears. “My beautiful tears.”

“You scared me,” Natasha admitted and kissed the top of your head. “You gave me two healthy daughters, but it wouldn’t have mattered if you weren’t here to see it.” You leaned your head back and kissed her, savoring the feeling of her lips against yours.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “Has the team met them?” Your wife shook her head.

“Only Yelena and Laura,” she said. “I was waiting for you.” You smiled and looked at your daughters.

“You have so many people that love you already, little ones. They will protect you, spoil you, and hopefully babysit when your mama and I need a break,” Natasha chuckled. “Our little Christmas stars.”

“Merry Christmas, Elena, and Gabby Romanoff.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow one shot #black widow fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x fem!reader

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ichorai · 1 year

Text

the scientist & the assassin ; natasha romanoff.

read part two ; afterlife.

pairing ; natasha romanoff x gn!scientist!reader

synopsis ; fragments of time with your girlfriend, soon-to-be-wife, natasha.

words ; 4.4k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, established relationship, scientist au

warnings / includes ; a bit of cursing, blood/injury, set before civil war era, avengers found family trope idec, sexual innuendos, bucky and sam annoying reader lol, steve being an absolute sweetheart, mentions of fire, liho cameo, mentions of yelena

main masterlist.

JANUARY.

Small sparks flew up from the welding torch as you worked the blue flame over the metal, eyes narrowed with concentration. It was a delicate process, and you were taking extra caution not to mess the process up. You were building new protective gear on Nick Fury’s request, and had to make sure that it was without fault.

Your girlfriend of three years, however, clearly had other plans. Natasha was leaning against your workbench, brows quirked as she repeated the question that had flown right over your head in the midst of your fixation.

You hastily turned the fire off and shoved the protective welding mask away from your face so you could properly look at her. “Huh? Did you say something?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, though not without a ghost of a grin to her lips. With a sigh, she asked the question for a third time. “I know you’re busy making all your little gizmos and gadgets… but are you coming to Tony’s party?”

A beat of silence. You blinked in confusion. It was only then did you realize that your girlfriend was all dressed up, face dolled up with flawless makeup, donned in a silken, viridescent dress that complimented her figure beautifully. “What party?”

“The annual New Years’ party—Tony’s asked you to come a million times. You’re not gonna leave me all alone with him, are you?” Natasha asked, walking closer to you until her nose was only an inch from yours, placing her hands on the lapels of your lab coat, tugging you closer.

A gulp lodged in your throat. “No, ma’am,” you murmured, lips dipping forward to catch hers.

She leaned back before you could, however, tilting her head expectedly. There was a playful glint to the deep green of her irises. “Go get ready, then. I already laid out a matching outfit for you to save you the hassle. Who knows… maybe we can leave a bit early too…”

Before she could finish her sentence, you were already shirking off your white coat, hurrying out of the laboratory to get changed for the party. Natasha couldn’t help the amused smile gracing the corner of her lips as she watched you scramble away.

FEBRUARY.

Blood dripped from her cheek. Her hair, her dress, her legs. She was drenched in it.

A shuddering sigh of exhaust fell from her split lips. She gingerly slipped out of her heels, holding the two of them in one hand and walking up to the house barefoot.

“Nat,” you whispered in part-horror, part-concern at her bloodied state when you swung the door open.

“It’s not mine,” she hoarsely mumbled, slipping past you, bee-lining towards the bathroom, in dire need of some cleaning.

Her eyes were heavy with fatigue, plagued with memories of the bloodbath of a mission. There were many questions you wanted to ask her, but you held your tongue. She was in no state to answer your barrage of queries, and needed nothing more than someone to care for her, for a change.

Gently, you took her crimson-slickened hands within yours, uncaring of the blood smearing on your skin. You led her to the rest of the way to the bathroom, gently telling her to take a seat on the edge of the bathtub. A small towel cloth was dampened beneath the faucet, and you slowly cleaned off the delicate wounds littered over her arms, her face, and her abdomen. The two of you were completely silent, basking in the comfort of being there for each other. Natasha’s green eyes shone with simultaneous gratitude and hollow trauma. For a moment, it appeared as if she was going to weep, but she kept the tears at bay.

Once you cleaned off most of the blood, you left the bathroom to fetch her some of her sleep clothes—which was really just a worn, sleeveless shirt of some obscure rock band you didn’t recognize, and a soft pair of basketball shorts. She had wiped away the rest of the blood when you came back, stripping her outer layers and shirking them into the sink to wash later.

For now, the both of you just needed to sleep.

She slipped on the pajamas, before settling into the bed with a lethargic sigh.

“Thank you,” she croaked out just as you clambered beneath the blankets on the other side of the large bed.

You hummed in response, roping her close to you, pressing a soft kiss to her hairline. This time, Natasha had to willfully force the urge to cry away.

“Get some rest, Nat. I love you,” you said into her skin.

Natasha relaxed into your hold, eyes drooping shut. She wanted to say that she loved you back, but found that she was already falling into a deep slumber.

MARCH.

“What about Jennifer? She’s in the analytics department,” said Natasha, sipping on her iced tea as she eyed Steve expectantly. “I can set you up with her if you want.”

The blonde man shifted uncomfortably. “I… I don’t know, Nat—”

“For God’s sake, Nat, stop it already!” you exclaimed, but not without an exasperated smile to your lips. “Look at him, you’re embarrassing the poor guy. Sorry, Steve—she’s just looking out for you.”

The hundred-year-old man smiled handsomely, forking some scrambled eggs into his mouth. “It’s fine. I’m not really looking to date at the moment… still trying to figure out how things work this century before I can really settle down.”

“Well, you take your time, Steve,” you told him gently.

“You sure? Rumor has it Allison from human resources has had her eye on you for a while—ow! I was joking!” she exclaimed when you sharply elbowed her in the ribs. “But, really, Cap… I’m happy you’re taking your time.”

The blonde hummed gratefully. “What about you two? Any plans on…” He gestured vaguely, which made you and Natasha glance at each other with a grin.

Your girlfriend scoffed, the green of her eyes glimmering with mirth. “Why? You wanna be the best man?”

Steve seemed to splutter at that, vehemently trying to backtrack. Heat flushed his cheeks a soft pink hue.

“I’m just pulling your leg, Steve,” Natasha quipped, playfully kicking at his foot beneath the table. “Lighten up, will you?”

“We haven’t even spoken about marriage yet,” you chimed in, smiling warmly at the ex-assassin. “But who knows? Maybe we will soon.”

APRIL.

Nails tapped loudly against the surface of the table she was sitting on, legs crossed as she languidly leaned back, staring up at the artificial white lights of the laboratory. She was saying something—something about her last mission with Tony.

Judging by her expression you quickly stole a glance at, you could tell that she was complaining. There was a slight knit to her brow, and she was frowning ever so slightly.

You made quiet, absentminded noises of acknowledgement as she told her story, nodding emphatically. You were working on a device to immediately disable strong magnetic fields, tinkering with the small bits and pieces with narrowed eyes.

“I don’t know, maybe I should just stop worrying about him—it’s not my problem if Tony drinks until he can barely stand up…”

She trailed off, tilting her head back down to watch you work. With an amused scoff, she said your name. Without taking your eyes off your work, you merely hummed, “Mhm?”

“You haven’t listened to a single word I’ve said, have you?”

Hopping down from the table, she made her way closer to you, her fingers nimbly slotting beneath your chin. You met her gaze, briefly glancing down at her parted lips, skin flushing with embarrassment.

Sheepish, you grinned apologetically. “Sorry, Nat.” She arched a sharp brow and you winced. “I love you…?”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha acquiesced, a ghost of a grin tracing the corner of her lips. “I love you, too.” She let you go to haul herself back up onto the table, swinging her legs in an almost child-like manner. “Anyways, as I was saying…”

MAY.

Sunglasses, glasses of chilled orange juice, and warm sand beneath your feet.

Closer to the beach’s shallow waves, Bruce, Steve, and Clint were playing with a frisbee, while Tony and Thor were off on a ski-boat, skimming across the waters much faster than they probably should be going. The team was on a little mini-vacation, needing some well-deserved rest after going on nonstop, continuous missions.

A book was cracked open on your lap, one that you had been meaning to start for ages now, but never had the time before. Beside you was your girlfriend, lathering sunscreen over her arms and exposed skin. “Did you put on sunscreen?” she asked you, offering the bottle.

“Yeah,” you replied, prying your eyes away from the novel to press a kiss to her cheek, and then another to the side of her nose.

She grinned beautifully, the green of her eyes gleaming with fondness. “You’re such a nerd. Who brings a book to the beach?”

“Well… look who’s dating the nerd who brought a book to the beach?” you replied with a level tone, trying your best to suppress your growing smile.

Huffing in amusement, Natasha lightly shoved you, taking another sip of her orange juice. “God, it just feels like we never get to fully relax like this, you know? I wish every day could be like this.”

Shutting your book, you placed it off to the side and shuffled closer to her, curling an arm over her shoulders.

“Yeah,” you hummed, tracing aimless shapes along the skin of her arm. Hesitant, you spoke up again, “Hey, you remember when Steve asked us about getting married?”

“Mhm?”

“Well, uhm…” you started, but thought better of it, not wanting to ruin such a perfect moment as this one by forcing your girlfriend into a commitment you weren’t even sure she really wanted.

When you trailed off, Natasha pulled away from you slightly, her head cocked in an expectant manner.

“If you’re not gonna ask me, then I will,” she told you with a laugh to her voice. “You wanna get married?”

For a moment, you spluttered for words, not expecting this turn of events.

“You… Nat, are you sure?” you rasped, cupping her face gently. “I don’t want you to rush into anything. Yes, a thousand times yes, but fair warning—it means you’ll be stuck with me forever. Forever is like… a really long time.”

Natasha hummed, leaning forward until your nose brushed against hers. Gods, you loved this woman so fucking much.

“Sounds like a nightmare,” she whispered, a ghost of a smile to her lips. “Sign me up.”

With that, she kissed you, tasting of orange juice and a tiny bit of sunscreen.

JUNE.

Sam and Bucky hovered around your lab like a pair of incessant flies that wouldn’t go away, no matter how much you swatted at them.

“Don’t touch that, Bucky,” you found yourself saying nearly twenty times, followed by an exasperated sigh as he would proceed to prod and poke at the machinery.

Sam was no better, asking you about a million questions in regard to all the different gadgets and gizmos in progress.

On a normal day, you usually wouldn’t let these two into your lab, but you were ordered to fix and improve both of their broken comm links, and made the terrible mistake of inviting them to come watch. Of course, they grew bored of watching you toy with wires and circuits, opting to wander around your lab with wide, curious eyes.

“Hey, what’s this?” Sam asked, holding up a small, black cube half the size of his palm.

“Collapsible motorcycle,” you replied, briefly glancing at him, before returning your gaze to your work on the table. “Just don’t press the button on the bottom.”

Whistling with clear impression, Sam looked nearly tempted to try it out. But he knew you would slice his hand off if he did, so he set the cube back down. “That’s sick, man. Who’s it for?”

“Nat,” you said. “Made it for her. It’s still in its testing phase—I’m hoping it'll be all done and ready by her birthday.”

Bucky glanced over Sam’s shoulder to look at the cube. “I like riding motorbikes,” he said. “Could you make me one?”

“Unless you could get Fury to order me, that’s a no,” you huffed out with a mild laugh. “I barely agreed to fix your comms for you—which, by the way, how did you even break them this bad? Did you guys pour a bucket of water over and stomp on them, or something?”

At the memory of Bucky and Sam both accidentally tumbling into a river during a mission, they both grimaced.

“Something like that, sure,” said the century-old man, wearily pulling at his face.

“That’s not fair,” Sam, a full grown man, just about whined. You halted in your ministrations, raising a brow. “How come you don’t make us any fancy little tools or weapons or bikes or magical gizmos, but you make ‘em for Nat?”

Scoffing, you dipped your head back down to continue polishing off their comms. “Yeah, well, she’s my fiance.”

“And?” said Sam, placing his hands on his hips. “Am I not your best friend? Is Mr. Cyborg here not your second best friend?”

Another deeply amused laugh rumbled from within your chest. “With how you two are behaving, I’d say Steve is my best friend right now.”

The two were left sulking in your lab for the next hour, with Bucky nearly catching on fire when he picked up a flamethrower disguised as a potted plant. Both of them left with charred fingers, singed eyebrows, and about half a dozen of your tiny gadgets stuffed within their pockets.

JULY.

It was Steve’s birthday, which meant Natasha organized a barbecue in Clint’s large backyard. There were red, white, and blue streamers hung up over the trees and over the house’s porch, several star-shaped lanterns decorating the wooden tables set out. Bruce and Tony were manning the grills, while you were playing a game of catch with Peter and Clint’s kids. The rest of the Avengers were gathered by one of the tables, piling up their plates high with food.

The air was heavy with the mouth-watering aroma of cooking hot dogs, grilled corn, and juicy burgers. Dessert was an assortment of cookies, an array of melting popsicles, and a large blue birthday cake that made Steve smile so wide it was yet to leave his face.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Natasha speaking to Thor, her hand extended out to him as the God inspected the ring on her finger.

“A grand ring, that is!” the Norse God bellowed. “Green suits you, Natasha.”

“Thanks, Thor,” said your fiance, grinning warmly. The two walked off to grab some hotdog buns and harass Tony to hurry up with cooking.

The ball nearly hit you in the face because you were so busy staring at Natasha, stopping inches from your nose when Peter darted forward with his near inhumane reaction time to grab it away.

“Woah!” he exclaimed, afraid to have accidentally hurt you by hurling a fast ball at you when you weren’t even paying attention. “Sorry, are you okay? What are you looking at?”

You pursed your lips, glancing one last time at Natasha. A blush creeped up your neck. She was going to marry you soon. How on earth did you get so lucky?

“Nothing, kid. Come on, hand me the ball, why’d you stop?” you cleared your throat in a fruitless attempt to play it off.

Peter followed your line of sight, brows raising when he caught sight of Natasha now showing off her ring to Steve and Bucky. He smiled slightly, but didn’t say anything about it, instead tossing the ball right back to you (which you still somehow missed catching).

AUGUST.

“Here,” you said, handing her the steaming mug of coffee, just how she liked it—dark with a tiny bit of sugar. “You okay? You’ve been more quiet than usual the past few days.”

The two of you leaned against the balcony’s railing, watching the sun rise over the cityscape, painting the sky a myriad of soft oranges and clementines and tangerines. With your free hand, the other being occupied by your own hot cup of tea, you wrapped around Natasha’s waist, tugging her close. You pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, brushing an errant strand of hair falling away from her loose braid.

“Sorry, I’ve just recently been thinking,” she whispered, a bit distant. “My sister is out there, somewhere. Sometimes I think it’s best to just give her her space, since she hasn’t reached out, either. Maybe she doesn’t want to see me ever again—after all, I’m a living, breathing reminder of the Red Room. The terrible things we were forced to do. I’m not too upset about it… it’s not like we were a real family, anyway. I don’t know. I guess I just miss her.”

You weren’t entirely sure what to tell her. Go find her sister? Forget about her? Tell her to think about it some more? Natasha rarely ever spoke about her past, much less her temporary ‘fake’ family.

A frown crossed over your lips, brows divoting. “Nat, if your sister really wanted to see you, she would reach out. You’re an Avenger—it’s not that hard to find you. You can’t really say the same about her… you don’t know a single thing about where she might be now. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Natasha sipped on her coffee, blowing out a tired sigh. Tears warbled over her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away, sniffing slightly.

“Do you think she remembers me?” her voice broke just a bit. “Because sometimes I forget what her face looks like. Did she have blue eyes, or were they green like mine? How blonde was her hair? What did her smile look like? I… I’m scared I’ll just completely forget and I won’t ever see her again to—”

“She remembers,” you murmured in response. “You were her sister. She’d remember.”

Another sniffle. Natasha wiped away a stray tear with the back of her hand.

“God, sorry. I’m such a mess,” she croaked, laughing bitterly.

“And I love you anyway,” you told her, kissing her just below her watery eyes. “Come on—let’s go watch some TV.”

SEPTEMBER.

The wedding was a small, quiet event.

You, Natasha, and the rest of the Avengers family were once again gathered in Clint’s expansive yard—though, this time, everybody was dressed much more formally than they had on Steve’s birthday. The ceremony was full of tears and sniffling, tissues and running mascara.

The vows you had written for Nat were long and nearly ramble-y, whilst hers were perfectly short and to-the-point.

Once Bruce had officiated the two of you (having learned how to do so online), you had embraced each other with a watery kiss, grinning against one anothers’ lips. The rest of the group had burst into raucous applause, Tony and Steve the loudest of them all, the two of them being the best men of the wedding.

Then came the food and the dancing, which lasted well into the night.

She was glowing the entire time. Your wife was glowing.

And when you told her so, she smiled, all wide and toothy. “It’s just nervous sweat,” she replied with a laugh as you gripped her waist tighter, before twirling her around in your arms.

“God, I love you,” you murmured, pressing your forehead against hers.

The green of her eyes sparkled with your words. “I love you, too. I can’t believe we’re married now.”

“Take your time,” you hummed. “You’ve got the rest of your life to get used to it.”

OCTOBER.

Your sleeves were rolled up to your elbows, tongue poking out the corner of your mouth. The table was a mess, covered in orange mush, a dozen knives, and your phone playing a video on how to properly carve a pumpkin.

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath when you messed up the shape, letting out a long, drawn-out groan. “Why is this so hard? It’s just a pumpkin!”

When you glanced at Natasha and her fruit, you weren’t at all surprised to see that she was well into carving an intricate, detailed design with wide eye-holes and gnarled teeth.

“It’s not that hard,” she replied with an easy smile, clearly amused at your struggling. “What’s going on with you? You’re usually really good with your hands.”

Heat flushed up your neck and spidered across the skin of your cheeks at the hidden insinuation behind her words. “I don’t know,” you huffed, wiping down your hands on the apron you were wearing. Usually you weren’t one to give up so easily, but you had been tinkering with several new task-droids, and there was no better time than now to test them out.

“What are you doing?” she curiously asked once you slid off your seat, reaching into one of the cabinets to pull out the little cuboid robots. “God, it feels like I’m in a Black Mirror episode,” she murmured, watching them come to life and start carving up your pumpkin for you with tiny microblades after you input a design for them to work on.

“San Junipero Black Mirror or Metalhead Black Mirror?” you replied, propping your face up on an elbow as you watched the small bots diligently work.

Your wife scowled, her sharp brows divoting. “Definitely Metalhead.”

The both of you shuddered, before you dipped forward to press a kiss to her cheek. “I’m gonna make us a batch of cookies—at least that I know I can’t mess up.”

NOVEMBER.

A wince, a frown, an uncomfortable shift. Natasha was used to pain, and was taught from a young age to steel herself, but the wounds usually never got this bad.

There was a deep slash across her stomach, dark blood dousing the entirety of her abdomen, dripping down her sides and leaking off the lab table you had set her on. You tried to be gentle while you cleaned her up, tried to be quick with the stitches to lessen the pain—but the wound was tender and wide, and you had to slow down to be careful.

The entire time, your face bore an expression of pure worry and concern.

“I’m sorry,” she hoarsely whispered, lips twisted into a grimace.

“For what?” you quietly mumbled, focused on fixing her up.

She blew out a pained sigh as you started another stitch. “For making you worry. I shouldn’t have gone on that mission, I know.”

“Well, you did,” you lightly replied, teeth gnashing together. “No reason to dwell on it. It’s okay, Nat. I’m not mad at you.”

There was a beat of silence. She laid back, fists clenched by her sides as she endured through the pain.

“Just disappointed?” she asked, gingerly laughing, despite the pain it brought to her chest.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I am. I just don’t like seeing you pointlessly throwing yourself headfirst into a suicidal mission, just to come crawling back in shreds. I also don’t like seeing you hurt because I love you, and I need you to be more careful for me.”

Natasha pursed her lips. Her green eyes flashed with pain when you wiped away the excess blood. “Okay,” your wife croaked. “I love you, too.”

DECEMBER.

“Open it!” you goaded, nudging Natasha to the suspiciously unwrapped box.

Her green eyes were narrowed as she shot you a warning look. “I swear to God, if a fake snake is gonna come flying out like last time—”

“It’s your birthday, I would never!” you interrupted impatiently, gesturing to the box once more.

With a huff, Natasha peeled back the loose lids of the cardboard box, making a noise of surprise upon seeing a little black cat curled up inside, snoozing contentedly.

“Oh, my God. You got us a little kitty,” she crooned, slowly picking the cat up. The black-pelted feline purred at the contact, nuzzling her dark nose against Natasha’s face. “This is literally the best thing you’ve ever gotten me. It beats anything you’ve ever made for me!”

Clearing your throat, you toyed with the collapsible motorcycle you had hidden in your pocket. “Well… don’t say that too quickly. You wanna name her?”

Natasha stroked the cat’s dark head, her hazel eyes happily blinking shut. “Liho. It means misfortune in Russian—black cats are bad luck, right? She’ll have to prove her name wrong.”

“Liho,” you parroted, smiling so wide it was a wonder your face didn’t split into two.

With a grin, Natasha placed Liho back down on the ground, who took to weaving between both of your legs, her fluffy tail curved around your shins.

“God, I love you,” your wife suddenly announced, cupping your face between her palms and littering several chaste kisses all over your cheeks. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“You’re gonna love me more after this,” you told her, brandishing the small black cuboid from your pocket. “Come on—I’m gonna have to show you this outside. Let’s go, Liho.”

The three of you made your way out of the house, Liho silently following along like a shadow. You beamed brightly at the small cat, then at your wife, who was squinting against the sharp sunlight, smiling nonetheless. It was all so perfect, nearly too good to be true.

Until the collapsible motorcycle burst into flames while you were trying to uncollapse it, which had Natasha yanking the curious Liho away from the growing fire as you ran into the house to grab the extinguisher.

Alright—maybe not entirely perfect… but amazing nonetheless.

“Happy birthday?” you sheepishly said as you doused the flames away. “That was, uh… that was supposed to do that.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, setting Liho back down before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You can clean that up later. Let’s go cut the cake—maybe we can skip on blowing out the candles this year.”

As the three of you made your way back inside the house, Natasha glanced down at the little black cat trotting in front of you. “She’s living up to her name so far. God, I can’t believe you got me a cursed cat for my birthday.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff x gn!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff ff #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #mcu fanfiction #mcu x reader #natasha romanoff angst #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff drabbles

986 notes · View notes

celinajuarezswife · 3 months

Text

COMFORT IN SICKNESS

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Sick!Reader

Summary: Reader is sick but doesn't wanna bother nat

Word count: 336

Warnings: Fluff

You go to check the medicine cabinet you had in the hallway and you were out of cough drops. Suddenly you feel Nat hug you from behind. You screeched in fear not realizing it was her. You turn around and sigh. 'Oh my god Nat' you never understand how she was so damn sneaky. Nat giggles, 'What are you looking for baby?' Nat asks with her dorky smile. ‘Uhm nothing just looking for Tylenol, my back hurts a bit’ you say, it was a stupid lie but the best you could come up with.

Nat raises her eyebrow and looks at you with speculation ‘Ibuprofen is better for back pain’ She grabs the ibuprofen bottle and hands it to you. ‘There baby’ she says smiling. ‘Thank you.’ you say blushing.

It's a few hours later and you feel even worse. Your whole body was in pain. Nat was currently working on her paperwork at the compound. You stand up to go get something to eat and the world starts spinning around and you feel your body weaken. Next thing you know your body feels weightless and your vision goes dark. You wake up in Nat's arms. ‘There you go baby’ she says holding you. You look around, confused. ‘What happened’ you ask. ‘You passed out’ Nat says. ‘Yeah no shit Sherlock I mean like why are you home?’ you ask rolling your eyes playfully. ‘I got done early’ Nat says with her signature smirk. You look at her and scoff and she giggles

‘So I'm guessing you don’t feel well?’ Nat asks a little concerned. ‘Not at all. Haven't all day’ you say, still a little dizzy. Nat sighs, a little annoyed but overall concerned, ‘Baby, you should have told me’. You look at her, feeling guilty ‘I know. I just didn't wanna make you upset’. ‘I’d never be upset with you over this.’

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson fluff #natasha romanoff fanfic #scarlett johansson fanfiction #fanfic #story #mcu #marvel #marvel mcu #black widow #black widow fanfiction #fanfiction #fluff

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 10 months

Text

Double Take on that Bubble Butt Blurb ~Natasha Romanoff xGN Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, body adoration, ass licking, eating out, teasing, etc.

Enjoy (;

“You like my ass…?” The red head chuckled.

You bit your lip and nodded. Natasha then proceeded to grab your chin and direct your eyes to hers.

“Then get on your knees and eat my ass out, detka…” She taunted.

Immediately, you spun the red head against the wall and dropped to your knees. Natasha gasped lightly, not prepared for you to actually follow through with her taunting. You eagerly pulled her pants down and her panties right after that.

“Oh Shit, detka—!” Natasha groaned, as your tongue inserted itself into the red heads ass and you began licking around her hole.

You moaned in delight, you hands gripping her bubble butt tight as your tongue happily lapped away at her aching hole.

~~~

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

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upon-a-starry-night · 14 days

Text

Number Neighbors Pt.32

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

Nat tells you everything about what happened a month ago, including some details you were probably not authorized to know. She seems determined to get you to understand her no matter what and you’re endeared at how important it is to her that you know absolutely everything.

You take note of the fact that you’re definitely past Avengers Tower and are now in what looks like rural New York. There are more trees and greenery around and you’re curious about where you’re going but you focus your attention on Natasha for now.

You listen to her story diligently and with as much empathy for both sides as you can. You can understand why none of the other Avengers wanted to be the government's lap dogs but you also understood that fear was a powerful thing. You subconsciously rub your healing scar at the thought.

When she finishes her explanation she seems to look at you expectantly, waiting for your response and you take a moment to formulate the right words in your head before speaking-

”You left me with no contact and I’m trying my best to understand your situation but it doesn’t stop the fact that I was still hurt by it” It’s a painful truth but if Nat could share her vulnerability with you than you could do the same.

”I know. I know and I’ll spend however long you need me to making up for it. I’m sorry Y/n. You have to know that it hurt me so much to hurt you.”

“You’re already forgiven”

”That was fast” She seems surprised and even a little amused at the quickness of your forgiveness and you shrug

“If I'm honest, I forgave you the second I saw you. I missed you, Nat. I’m just glad you’re home safe” Her eyes hold a look so full of admiration that you have to force yourself to look away. If she keeps looking at you like that you’re not sure what you’ll do.

To distract yourself, you urge her to continue her story and resist the need to pull her lips to yours. You hope she doesn’t notice the way your eyes subconsciously go to her mouth when she begins talking again but your chances are slim with a super spy.

If she notices she doesn’t say anything and you have to wonder if it’s due to the presence of someone else nearby. You can’t help but be a little frustrated- would you two ever get a moment alone together? To say what you’ve been itching to say since you found her again?

Natasha tells you about being lonely and drafting argument after argument with Clint. Waiting for the right moment to come back.

“Honestly we thought it was going to be another half a month at least but I rushed the process.” You might be hallucinating but you’re pretty sure there’s a light blush on her cheeks. “ Even if the argument wasn’t perfect there was something important I had to come home to.”

You nod in understanding, you’re sure it’s not easy being in her position “Yeah, the world needs its heroes”

She gives you a look that seems to say ‘That’s not exactly the reason’ but you can’t think of any other reasons for her to rush something so important to them. The risk seems to have been worth the reward for her.

Seeing that you’re not understanding, she drops the look and continues with her story “Anyway, with the government facing so much heat from the public combined with our statement they had no choice but to agree or they would be out of heroes the next time aliens came knocking on Earth’s door.”

You resist the urge to first pump the air at the news. Surely that meant she would be around often right? At the very least you could visit her as a friend, even if every part of you was madly in love with her.

Much to your surprise, the car eventually pulls into a large gray and white building in the middle of nowhere surrounded by trees. The driver drops you off at a side door before pulling off to another part of the building and you stare in awe at the huge building with the Avengers ‘A’ printed on every part.

You’re admiring the sheer amount of space around the area but before you have the chance to gawk any further Nat is guiding you inside of the building to be met with glossy cement floors and very modern interior design.

“You’ll have time to look later” You can’t help but read into her words. That meant she wanted you around for longer right? Maybe this whole thing wasn’t one-sided after all.

A robotic feminine voice from above makes you jump in shock and Nat glances at you in amusement at the action.

“Miss Romanoff, welcome back. An unregistered person is accompanying you, shall I register them in the database?” Nat is seemingly unfazed by the voice of God coming from the ceiling as she speaks freely to it.

“Hey Friday, She’s my guest, feel free to register her if you’d like. I know how Tony is” She mumbles that last part but you still hear it anyway.

“Creating guest profile… Scanning… registering Y/n Y/l/n as Natasha Romanoff’s guest” You flinch when it says your name, briefly wondering how it got that information and you turn to see Nat smirking at you.

You glare at her obvious pleasure at your confusion and try to brush off how freaky a voice from the roof talking to you is.

“Sorry I’m not used to rich billionaire tech” You huff a bit childishly and Nat just shakes her head with a chuckle, placing a hand on your back and guiding you to a set of double doors. The two of you are about to enter when you hear the sound of two familiar voices. The same voices from inside your apartment.

Noticing your obvious discomfort, Nat stops and steps in front of you, her hands finding purchase on your shoulder

“Are you okay?” Truth be told you feel a little shaken but if Nat wasn’t weary about what was behind this door then you shouldn’t be either. Worst case scenario Nat was there to protect you from whoever those men were.

You nod your head, unable to bring yourself to speak and she takes a minute to observe you and rub your shoulder in reassurance before she opens the doors.

The doors lead to a living room space with a kitchenette attached to it and sitting at the island table are two roughly familiar faces. One of them was none other than Clint Barton aka The Hawkeye, and the other was Steve’s friend Bucky. He was still pretty new to the group so you didn’t know much about him but much to your surprise the voices from your apartment were coming from them.

When Clint's eyes land on Nat he grins from his seat and pats Bucky on the back but Bucky’s eyes immediately fall on you, his face paling as he struggles to make eye contact.

Your eyes widen as you realize not only were you being stalked but you were being stalked by a trained assassin and Avenger. What possible reason could he have been following you for this whole time?

“I told you she’d recognize you” Clint has the heart to fix you with an apologetic smile as he talks to Bucky and to your credit Nat seems equally confused.

“What’s going on here, boys?” She narrows her eyes at the two of them and Clint raises his hands in surrender, not wanting to be a victim of her wrath.

“Well I was watching over Y/n like you asked me to but imagine my surprise when I found someone else doing the same” You take a minute to register the fact that Natasha asked Clint to keep an eye on you and you struggle behind finding it endearing and being uncomfortable.

All this time you were worried about getting kidnapped, you were actually safer than you’ve ever been in your life. At least you don’t have to worry about being stalked anymore as it seems that mystery was solved. It’s a large weight off of your shoulders. You decide to count it as another positive to add to the tally for today.

Nothing could ruin today for you and the feeling of Nat’s hand settled comfortably on your lower back only further cements that statement.

A sigh draws your attention back to the group and you along with everyone else, stare at Bucky expectantly for an explanation.

“Listen, Steve wanted me to find a way to check up on you but when I started digging the only lead I could find was Y/n” It’s weird to hear him say your name as if it’s familiar and you wonder how many other Avengers know of your existence. “I thought if I watched her long enough she would lead me to you but I wasn’t getting anywhere so when she went out of town I might’ve..broken into her apartment to look for signs”

“-and that’s where I found him when Y/n had the unfortunate timing of coming home” Clint is the only one who seems to find humor in this situation but it’s clear from the look on Bucky’s face they had been bickering about it before you came in.

“I thought she was gone!” Apparently done with pretending you’re not in the room, Bucky turns to you with an apologetic look on his face “I’m sorry”

You’re not quite sure what to make of this situation but there’s still one question nagging at the back of your mind

“So were you guys in the SUV’s that followed me as well?”

Shaking his head no, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your statement “I prefer to tail people on foot. It’s easier to blend in” His assurance only fuels the confusion in the room and everyone’s heads whip to the door before you can even sense anyone coming. Stupid super spy senses.

The door opens to reveal none other than Tony Stark sporting a guilty look on his face- well as guilty as a playboy billionaire can feel.

“That would be me.” Your eyes widen in surprise at the confession. “Really it’s shameful that neither of you noticed. I think you need more training” He makes his way to the kitchenette, opening the fridge and perusing the contents until he pulls a container of blueberries and begins snacking on them, completely unaware or just disregarding the eyes glaring at him.

“Why were you following Y/n, Stark?” Nat is the first to speak, she seems irritated at the fact that not only one, but two of her coworkers were stalking you and if you’re honest you’re a little irked that they would use you to try and get to Nat.

He rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated that you aren’t following “Oh come on, you guys didn’t think you were the only ones who thought to check her phone records?” He shakes his head in disappointment. “Clint’s attempt at hiding your phone was commendable but I don’t need the actual phone to hack into the records” he turns to Nat once again “Your little firewall was cute though”

“You’re still on thin ice Stark”

He raises his hands in surrender and places the berries back into the fridge, talking to your group with his back turned as if he isn’t in a room full of irritated super spies and assassins. “Well imagine my surprise when I find out not only is Nat’s little ‘boytoy’ a girl, but she’s also already in my system”

“Wait wait- what do you mean?” It’s your turn to speak up and your head is spinning with all the new information you’re receiving. If you’re honest you’re still craving the nap you were robbed of earlier.

Tony seems to acknowledge you for the first time since he walked into the room, his eyes scan observantly up and down your body before he quirks a brow and you wonder if everyone feels this small in his presence “Friday runs automatic background checks on everyone who enters my elevators. Obviously”

You realize he’s talking about when you and your friend attended his part at the Tower and he gives you a tight-lipped smile when he sees you’ve caught on

“ I was worried you were an over-obsessed fan or something but a quick little peek into your text messages told me everything I needed to know. So I had Happy tail you but Natty here was nowhere near her girlfriend. So cold of you to completely ghost her like that Nat, really?”

“Good to know everyone here respects my privacy” Nat rolls her eyes and Bucky averts his gaze from the two of you, clearly uncomfortable with the situation he got himself into.

You can’t help but notice the fact that Nat doesn’t object to Stark calling you her girlfriend and you’re sure you must look crazy as you blush in a room full of suffocating tension. Maybe they’ll think you’re a nervous blusher.

”Yes well-” Tony gestures at himself as if to say ‘you know who you're dealing with’ “Imagine my surprise when you came back claiming you would get the government off of our asses- I thought it was because you liked us but clearly you had ulterior motives.”

Before you can question what he means, Nat huffs and turns to drag you out of the room. You’re grateful to get away from the stuffy tense environment but as you're leaving you turn back to see Tony smirking at you for some unknown reason. His eyes hold a playful but knowing mirth and you wonder if you’ll ever understand what goes on inside his head.

Pt.33

A/n: Imagine Tony Stark reading every text message you’ve ever sent. Mortifying.~ Starry

---Taglist--

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pipsipey17 · 4 months

Text

love and literature | chapter 3: bad kind of butterflies.

professor!natasha romanoff x college student!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist

summary: some unexpected news from your sister.

contains: just some tension ig

previous chapter | next chapter

It has already been a month since you have been living with Natasha on the same roof and a lot of adjustments have been made, not only at home but also at school. Some of them were fine but the rest of them annoyed the hell out of you.

You hate her that was certain, but you have been feeling things for her whenever the two of you had interactions with each other. Whether they were good or bad. You knew it was wrong and weird but you fantasized about kissing her

“You coming Y/N?” Wanda asked as you were walking to your next class along with Pietro, Peter and Carol.

Pietro is Wanda’s twin brother and you have the same classes with him in almost every single subject except for Russian Literature that’s why you have been friends with him too.

Well for Peter, you and him have been lab partners since freshman year and he has been a huge help for you when it came to Science. He is definitely a Science geek but he means well.

As for Carol, apparently has had a thing for you since you started playing for the volleyball team of the university. She’s a beautiful blonde, has a bold yet great personality and is even the captain of the cheerleading team.

You decided to give it a shot, even though you already told her that you don’t take relationships that seriously. She agreed saying that she’s willing to risk it and that she might even change that for you. And now, you have just been letting the relationship take its course and see where it will take you.

“You know I can’t Wanda, ever since Natasha moved in I haven’t been able to go out after school because I apparently have to ride home with her.” You replied with a hint of disappointment and annoyance in your voice.

This was one of the adjustments that annoyed you, since Natasha brings her car to school everyday, your sister told you that you can just ride home with her. Except for the days that you have student council work to do or you have volleyball training cause you go home later than usual. You couldn’t even stay in one room together without you feeling a bit angry or annoyed at her, let alone a car ride home with her even though it’s only a 30 minute car ride.

“Oh come on baby, it’s the weekend tomorrow, why don’t you text your sister that you’re going out later and see how that goes.” Carol said as she placed her arm around your waist.

Wanda rubbed her temple and said, “I swear, Professor Romanoff isn’t even your sister and yet she acts like one more than Maria.”

“She’s more like a babysitter in my opinion.” Pietro snickered, making Wanda roll her eyes at her twin brother.

You started typing your text message to Maria and a few seconds later you hit send. Your sister immediately read the text message and replied with, “Alright, just don’t be home too late.”

“So?” Wanda asked as she heard the sound from your phone.

“She said yes.” You replied, making Wanda squeal with joy.

“Hell yeah! We’re getting drunk tonight.” Peter cheered.

~~~

You were now at the parking lot of the school on your way to find Natasha, a few moments later you finally saw Natasha and she was leaning against her car with a cigarette in hand, she was also already looking in your direction.

“Isn’t this a non-smoking area?” You asked with your arms crossed.

Natasha hummed, “Yes, but I am not a student like you.” She quipped.

You wanted to roll your eyes so badly at her response but you stopped yourself, “I’m not riding home with you today, I’ve got plans.” You said as you looked directly at her emerald green eyes.

“And by plans you mean?” She asked with her brow raised and a drag from her cigarette.

“I’m just going out with my friends.” You simply replied.

Natasha looked behind you and saw that Carol was waiting by the light post a few meters away from the both of you. “Right, friends.” she said with obvious sarcasm in her voice. She clicked her tongue and asked, “Does Maria know about this?”

“She does,” You replied and showed her your conversation with Maria earlier.

It wasn’t what she meant, she wanted to know if Maria knew about you dating the cheerleader but she would just ask you about that some other time.

“Fine, I’ll see you later.” She lastly said before she dropped her cigarette onto the ground and stepped on it, she then went into her car and drove off.

“Shall we go?” You suddenly heard Carol ask as she held your hand.

You nodded and said, “Yeah, let’s go and have some fun.”

~~~

A few drinks later, you decided to call it a night, it was getting late and you didn’t want an earful from your sister at an ungodly hour.

But what you didn’t expect was seeing a very familiar car waiting by the entrance. The window rolled down and you saw the very least person you wanted to see, Natasha.

“I didn’t ask for a chauffeur.” You said with annoyance.

“Your sister asked me to pick you up. She has an emergency at work if that's why you're wondering I'm the one picking you up instead of your sister.” Natasha plainly said to you with her piercing eyes almost as if she's going to eat you whole.

You were a bit scared with how she's looking at you but your anger and annoyance were dominating, “I'm not riding with you, I'm clearly not drunk so I don't need someone to bring me home. Plus, I'm going to walk Carol to her dorm.”

If Natasha was keeping her composure earlier, she’s sure as hell isn't now after you mentioned that girl.

What she did next is something you didn't expect at all, she got out of her car and grabbed both of your arms, placed them on your back then pushed you onto the wall and twisted one of your arms making you hiss and curse in pain.

“Ow! S-stop that!” you yelped.

Natasha leaned on your ear and whispered, “I'm going to stop once you step inside the car. So, I'll tell you this one more time, get. in.”

The way her voice husked in your ear definitely made you feel something but you still weren't going to easily fold, “Like hell I will.” you said making Natasha twisting your arm more making you scream in pain this time. After a few moments you finally gave up, “A-Alright, I-I'll get in.” you said, making Natasha chuckle and let go of your wrist, “Good, thought we're going to be here all night.”

Natasha then strutted back to her car as you continued to rub your wrist in pain later seeing a slight bruise forming as you entered the car.

“That's gonna teach you to listen to me, Y/N. I may be living rent free in your household but that doesn't mean you're allowed to disrespect me once we're outside campus.” Natasha said as she started to drive away.

You rolled your eyes and sat silent in your seat, until your phone rang, the caller ID revealing that your girlfriend was calling. "Hey babe. Yeah sorry, apparently, my sister told Natasha to pick me up." you heard Natasha click her tongue.

"I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise. Alright. Bye." you said then ended the call.

"Didn't say the 'L' word?" Natasha suddenly asked.

You scoffed, "No, we're not seriously dating. There's no need for that."

"Ah, so it's more on just sex then?" Natasha asked with a smirk on her face.

"What? N-no I mean… kind of, I mean…" you groan in frustration, "You know what, it's none of your business."

"Fine, I already got a clue anyway just from the answer alone." Natasha replied, her smirk not leaving her face.

"Whatever." you said while rolling your eyes.

Natasha suddenly grabbed your thigh and dug her nails into it making you hiss in pain, "Roll your eyes at me one more time, you're going to get it." she said as she continued driving and digging her nails into your thigh.

What she said and did made you remain still and silent in your seat, thankfully, you were already near your home.

Once you arrived, you immediately left the car and went inside to your bedroom, laying face planted onto the mattress and finally succumbed to sleep.

~~~

"I'm going on a business trip for a few weeks," Maria said as you ate breakfast.

"What? You're leaving me here?" You said in shock and disbelief.

"I wish you could come with me but you have school and plus, you have Natasha to stay here with you."

That was the issue, you didn't want to be left alone together with the woman you certainly despised with your whole being.

"When are you leaving?" Natasha asked as she got up from her seat and placed her dishes on the sink.

"Tonight, so that's why I won't be here once you guys get back." Maria replied as she also got up and placed her dishes on the sink.

You lastly got up and gathered all your dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. After that, you hugged your sister and said, "Take care big sis."

She hugged you back and replied, "Of course I will. I love you little sis."

You said I love you back and Natasha was just watching the whole scene unfold in front of her, it always made her smile when she would see you let all your guard down around your sister, it just meant that you really felt safe around her.

It reminded her of her sister, Yelena. Who is busy traveling the world and living her best life, making up for the lost time she had before because of their past.

Maria released her embrace. “Go wait for Natasha in her car, I have to talk to her about something first.” she said and you nodded in response then left the room with Natasha's car keys in hand.

Once they heard the door close, Maria took a deep breath and spoke, “You can… take care of her for me right? She tends to be reckless sometimes and I just want to make sure she's not going to be in some trouble while I'm gone.”

“You can count on me Maria, I mean, I already got a taste of that when I picked her up last night.”

What Natasha said made Maria raise a brow at her, “Really? What did she do?”

“She refused to get in the car with me, but it's fine, I managed.” Natasha replied with a slight smirk on her face.

“I see, well… I hope you won't experience more of that in the next few days. Well, anyway, you guys got to go, it's getting a bit late.” Maria lastly said before they hugged and Natasha left the kitchen.

Starting tonight, you'll be left with the woman you hate but at the same time feel certain things for. You're nervous but excited even to see what will happen the next few days of the two of you living together without your sister.

Natasha got in her car and started the engine. But before she starts to drive she looked you in the eyes and said, “Look, I know you don't like me and I can't blame you for that but we'll be living together for a few weeks and I want us to be friends even just for the time being for the sake of your sister.”

A smirk formed on your face, “Alright, if that's what you want then let's be friends.” you simply replied and Natasha did a simple nod in respone and started to drive you both to school.

Let the games begin.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x yn #black widow #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow x yn #marvel #avengers #avengers imagines #marvel imagines #black widow fanfiction #black widow x reader

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theshelbyclan · 2 years

Text

Baby Outlaw

Summary: Natasha has found out about another little girl who managed to escape the Red Room and she’s put Yelena onto it. But you escaped over a year ago and have no intention of being found (Part 1)

A/N: Here we go: my first not-Peaky fanfic on this blog. I started writing this one a while back and I’ve written a few more parts already, but I just wanna see first if anyone is interested in this one. Also, I wrote this one with an OC originally, but decided to post it as a reader insert, because people on here prefer those usually. Anyways, let me know what you think and whether you’d like to read more!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Words: 3228

*****

“Yelena.”

“Hi! Are you calling me from your superhero friends’ headquarters? Are they with you now? How is the god from space doing? Tell them I said ‘hi’!” She excitedly answered the phone, only to suddenly change her tone, “Wait, what is wrong with you? You sound so serious.”

Natasha was serious, “I need you to track someone down.”

“I am,” her younger sister still didn’t quite understand, “You gave me the file with all the girls, remember? I’ve been tracking them all down for the last months.”

“I know, I’ve heard.” Still there was the urgency in her sister’s voice and it didn’t go unnoticed by Yelena. “This one is special.”

“They all are.” To Yelena, this was a matter of principle; from faceless weapons they were now free women, all important and valued. Still she understood, “Special why?”

Natasha sighed on the other end of the line, “Do you remember everything Dreykov did after I managed to get out?” She tried to hide the guilt from her voice as much as she could, but didn’t quite manage it.

“Of course. The security got much stricter, punishments harder, and the chemical subjugation. No one escaped after that.”

“Well, someone did,” Natasha said sharply. “Another girl managed to get away, only a year ago. She escaped from the woods, when they were training her. During the blind dropping.”

Yelena remember that part of their training well. The young girls were dropped in the middle of the woods during the freezing winter and had to get back on their own. It had taken her days to do it. A lot of girls never came back. “But wait, that means she’s only small...” she wondered out loud.

“I think she’s twelve now, thirteen maybe?”

“How did she get away? The tracker...”

“She cut it out of her leg,” Natasha finished her sentence for her. “This must’ve been before they did the operation on her.”

“Umnaya devochka...” Yelena mused with some admiration in her voice.

“She won’t be in your files.”

“I can find her,” Yelena said confidently, “if you can tell me where she was last seen?”

“St. Petersburg,” Natasha was obviously rummaging through some files on the other end, “but that was almost a year ago.”

Yelena nodded and was quiet for a little while. Then she wondered, “Why is she special? To you. There were so many little girls. We all were little girls once.”

Her sister didn’t reply straight away and when she did, some emotion slipped into her voice, “She doesn’t have anyone. I checked. Dreykov killed her whole family. And she managed to get away, just her, but now she has nowhere to go and no one to go to. I think she deserves someone looking out for her for once.”

“I think so too. I will look out for her,” Yelena answered decidedly, “I will find her.”

Natasha felt a certain relief wash over her. She knew Yelena would understand. After all, if she didn’t, who would?

*****

Six weeks later, Yelena was staying in a small apartment somewhere in Camden Town in London. It had taken her quite a while to track down the little girl who somehow had slipped through Dreykov’s fingers. She’d survived the Red Room and found a way to use it to her advantage. Yelena decided that as soon as she’d found the girl, she would have to ask her a lot of questions on how she did it.

But the kid was slippery, as Natasha would say. In the last month, she’d moved cities twice and changed the name she went by four times. In St. Petersburg, they called her ‘Anya’ at one of the shelters where she sometimes went for food. In Berlin, the homeless kids mentioned a girl named ‘Lisa’ that fit her description. In Paris, she’d dyed her hair, clever girl, and went by ‘Cleo’ and then ‘Lilian’. Finally, Yelena tracked her to London, where she heard rumours of a ‘Maisie’ living rough, which was funny to Yelena, because that name did not suit her at all. She felt like she knew the girl already.

But the trail kept going cold. Yelena was constantly chasing shadows and rumours, never catching actual sight of her. Until London. Up until a few days ago, the former assassin had spend days gathering information and had gotten a recent description. And then, when she wasn’t even really looking for her, she’d seen a kid on the streets. It was only a glance but Yelena knew it was her.

“Hehe, there you are, you little fish,” Yelena whispered to herself, as she observed a child that had gotten so good at not attracting any attention to herself, that Yelena noticed at once. Right now, she was walking around the farmers market in Islington and she’d already managed to nick two apples, some chocolate and some more chocolate, a can of coke and a loaf of bread. All the food disappeared into her seemingly endless pockets. Yelena smirked at the sight.

“Well, that explains one thing,” she told the little hooded figure from far away, “how you managed to survive the Red Room’s starvation techniques. Let’s see what you do next, rybochka.״

But as Yelena made her way to follow the girl who had just rounded a corner, she saw that she had vanished. “Shit,” she hissed and cursed herself internally for being spotted. Quickly, she started running until she caught a glimpse of the blue raincoat the girl was wearing. Fast a lighting, she darted through the crowds and Yelena had the hardest time keeping up with her. Through the streets she chased her, waiting for her to slip up somehow, but she never did. Nimbly, the girl suddenly sprinted into a narrow little street and Yelena almost ran by it. At the end, she jumped over a few cars and crossed the road, while Yelena had to wait for them to pass before she could follow. She was losing her, a twelve-year-old girl, and it bothered her immeasurably.

“Oh, come on!” the blonde called out, as the kid suddenly did a double take and disappeared into the crowds again. Full of frustration, Yelena shoved people aside left and right to her. And then, pure luck, she recognised the raincoat right in front of her. She grabbed it tightly and tried to tackle the girl to the ground, though carefully, very much aware that this was just a child. However, this child had received years of training in one of the most severe facilities on earth and as soon as she felt Yelena’s tightened grip on her shoulder, she spun around, ducked and flipped her assailant over her shoulder.

With an “oooff” filled with surprise and embarrassment, Yelena hit the pavement. “Seriously?” she muttered and in that moment, she locked eyes with the strange girl. It was like the world stopped for a few seconds. Yelena recognised both the fear and the resolution in the other’s eyes. She opened her mouth to say something to calm her down, but as she moved to get up, the girl kicked sand from the streets into her eyes. Spluttering, the assassin wiped her face and lost sight of the girl. When she pushed herself up, she was gone.

Cursing loudly in Russian, Yelena attracted quite a bit of attention on the crowded streets. She huffed with irritation and walked away. Then she took out her phone and called her sister.

“Did you find her yet?” Natasha answered by way of greeting.

“I lost her.”

“Again?” she sighed, “She’s only twelve, Yelena.”

Full of indignation, she protested, “Well, none of this would have happened if you would have given me the correct information sooner! She is too smart now.”

“Smarter than you?” Some sarcasm laced Natasha’s voice and Yelena could practically hear her smirking on the other end.

“I have sand in my eyes...”

“Poor baby,” She now not even tried to hide the humour in her voice. “Do you need me to come down there to help you?”

“Yes,” Yelena replied at once, mainly because she just wanted to see her sister again, but reconsidered, “No. No, I know you are busy with superhero stuff.”

Natasha was silent for a little while, letting her younger sister sulk for a bit, “Stop chasing her. You’re probably only scaring her away. Remember what they taught us about being followed?”

“Find out who is following you and why.” The tactical theories had been an integral part of their training.

“Exactly.”

Yelena bit her lip and suddenly smiled, “I know where she’s going next.”

*****

As soon as you were certain you’d lost the assassin, you made your way back to Camden Town. For a couple of weeks now, you’d noticed someone on your trail and while you’d had your suspicions, your pursuer managed to remain in the shadows for the most part. Until the last few days: you’d decided to flip the tables on her and tried following her. This all went according to plan, up until today. Still, you figured you could use your little scuffle to your advantage, because now she’d be busy trying to find you. This gave you a chance to check out her apartment and learn more about her.

It hadn’t been hard for you to figure out where she’d been staying. In fact, it had been laughably easy, if you knew what to look for. And so, only half an hour later, you were standing in front of the right building.

Now for a way to get in. You debated climbing up the walls, but there were a few too many tourist out and about for your liking. As a stroke of luck, one of them walked up to the front door and was currently fiddling with the keys.

“Let me try,” you walked up to him with a winning smile. “My mum owns this apartment, there’s a bit of a trick to it...” Without suspicion, he handed you the keys and soon enough, you’d opened the door. “See?” you charmingly beamed up at him. He didn’t think anything of it as you followed him inside.

After waving after the tourist, you walked up the stairs to the third floor. You knew it had to be one of two apartments on the front side of the building. Singing some Russian song to yourself, you settled on trying one of them.

Forcing the lock was a piece of cake and it took you about four seconds to do so. After looking around for a few moments, you knew you’d picked the right apartment. Everything looked staged somehow: there was some furniture and even a few knick-knacks scattered around, but none of it really seemed to reflect a real personality. This was an assassin’s cover story, without a doubt.

“Bed first,” you whispered to yourself, as you lifted up the mattress to look for the most obvious hiding places. Nothing there. Then you checked a few random drawers and eventually made your way to the kitchen. There, on the table and in plain sight, you found a postcard yet to be sent. You flipped the image of Nelson on his column around and on the back was written: ‘The biggest poser of them all, just for you. Love, Yelena.”

“Yelena...” you tried out the name carefully. Suddenly, your stomach made a growling noise and you went in search of some food.

Just as you had your head stuck inside the refrigerator, you heard a sound behind you. Quickly, you slammed the door shut and ran for the bedroom window, but when you got to it, a blonde was blocking the way.

“Hi!” she cheerfully said, which only gave more rise to the panic you felt building up inside of you. So, she continued, “You know, if you are looking for more food, I can make us something.”

“Shit,” you hissed and ran into the other direction.

Behind you, you heard her call out, “You do not have to run, I am happy to cook us something. I am hungry too, you know!”

Not knowing what else to do, you fled into the little bathroom and locked the door. Breathing heavily, you tried your very best to keep your focus, just as you were taught. But panic settled into the pit of your stomach, because as soon as you laid eyes on her again, you were certain: she was a widow. And you’d rather die than be taken back to the Red Room.

“Little fish...” she called out from the other side of the door, ��Please just stop. It is no use. That window will not open. I have tried.”

You tried the window and cursed again at finding she was right.

“Yes, much shit,” the voice confirmed.

You slapped the side of your head three times, telling yourself to snap out of it. The only way you are going to survive this, you told yourself, is by staying calm and thinking.

“I just want to talk. And eat.”

But her talking to you didn’t help. In fact, it only increased the urgency to flee you felt. Finally, you let yourself slide down against the door and sighed. If you were going to get out of here, you needed to find a way out of this bathroom first.

Yelena, on the other side, sat down with her back against the door as well. And even though she remembered being that age so well, and she understood all the fear and distrust you were probably feeling right now, she had a hard time finding the right words. So, instead she asked, “During the dropping, how did you manage to escape the dogs? I mean, you cutting the tracker from your leg was smart, I will give you that, but that also makes me wonder: why did they not notice sooner that it was no longer moving? And how did you manage to get out of the forest without dying of frostbite first? I just have a lot of questions, you know, and I really would like some answers, because now I feel stupid for not thinking about all of that when I had my dropping.”

“You wanna know so you can tell them where to upgrade their security?” The words had left your mouth before you could stop them.

“No, rybochka, of course not. Besides, there is no point now. The Red Room is gone.”

You sucked in a deep breath, hopeful for a second, but immediately telling yourself this must be a lie.

“You don’t believe me?” Yelena seemed to sense your emotions, “I have proof.”

Considering all your options quickly, you realised you didn’t have many. “If I come out, you swear not to touch me?”

You heard some movement outside of the bathroom and realised she was getting up. “I swear it. And if I did, you’d probably throw me across the room again.”

Furrowing your brows and wondering if this was another joke, you opened the door and moved out with your back against the wall. There you found Yelena, standing in the middle of the room with her hands up, and a slight smirk on her face.

“Dreykov send you?” you asked, still eyeing all the possible exits.

“Dreykov’s dead.”

You narrowed your eyes, “How do you know?”

“I blew him up. Boom. Just like that,” the blonde smirked again at the memory, “First, we set the Red Room on fire and when they tried to escape, I sabotaged the engine and blew up the ship as they tried to get away.”

“How?”

“I stuck my baton into the propeller and it exploded. Like fireworks,” Yelena nodded proudly.

You frowned again, “There’s no way you would have survived that.”

The assassin made her way to the kitchen, but continued in a conversational tone, “I almost died, but my sister jumped after me and attached her parachute to me. Natasha saved me.”

“Right,” you nodded slowly, still very unsure of what was fact and what was fiction in this story.

“Listen, rybochka, I understand you don’t trust me now. It is okay, but I just want to help you.”

You felt at the lining of your pocket to feel for the reassuring presence of a knife there. “Why do you keep calling me ‘fish’?”

“Because you are slippery and also cute.”

Some strange part of you did like this strange assassin that was probably send to kill you. She felt familiar somehow, like you’d known her for a long time.

“Now what?” you finally asked.

“Now you give me your knife,” she glared at you strictly, like you imagined maybe a mother or sister would, “the one you keep in your pants.”

Rolling your eyes, you produced the small weapon and reached out towards her. But as Yelena tried to take it from your hands, you swiftly kicked her to the side and dashed forwards.

“What was that for!” she shouted out, full of genuine hurt. With a growl, she dodged the next few blows you tried to land. Quickly, you became aware of the fact that she was a lot more skilled than you were but you had one advantage: she tried her very best not to hurt you. Guess there were some upsides to being only twelve.

Yelena jumped out of the way and avoided the chair you threw at her. “Enough!” she warned you, “Stop fighting me or I will have to fight back.” By way of an answer, you kicked the door in her face and sprinted across the little corridor.

This was your mistake, because in those few seconds, you lost sight of her. The moment you rounded the corner, you were tackled to the floor. Yelena quickly straddled your waist and pinned your hands as you tried to claw at her face.

“Calm down!” she instructed loudly, trying to make herself heard over your loud shrieks, “I do not want to hurt you!”

“Maybe I do want to hurt you!” you ground out. Again, you felt a part of you wanting to trust her, but you just couldn’t let yourself do it.

“So stubborn...” Yelena gritted her teeth, as she tried to keep your squirming form in place. “Fine,” she suddenly let go, “As a sign of trust on my part, I will not stop you. Go on, little fish, hit me.”

You balled up your fist and pulled it back, but for some reason, you couldn’t do it.

“Good.” She climbed off of you, “Now we can eat.”

You watched her walk away and wondered, “Are you the Yelena?”

“Yelena Belova, and yes, you have heard from me.”

You had: ‘the greatest child assassin’. It was like she could read your mind, “But I am not her anymore. I am free now.”

“How?”

“I will explain while we eat. Come, little fish,” with a small smile, she motioned for you to follow her.

“Stop calling me ‘fish’!” You got up and walked over to the kitchen.

Yelena was gathering different groceries and you wondered vaguely what on earth she planned on making with all of that. Meanwhile, she stated, “But I don’t know what else to call you. What is your name?”

“It’s Y/N,” you whispered, feeling more vulnerable than ever.

Yelena smiled warmly at you, “Y/N is a nice name, rybochka.”

*****

Masterlist

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lightlyblooming · 2 years

Text

Secret Affections

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

Summary: After being in a secretive relationship, Natasha is finally ready to make it public.

Words: 1.2k

You had known Natasha since her early days in SHIELD. She had been assigned on the same mission as you, probably so that she could get a better understanding on the way things happened in SHIELD before she did a real mission.

It was clear, even from the beginning, that Natasha was operating way below her abilities. That, however, didn’t stop her from assisting in the mission.

As the rest of the Level 1 field agents scoured a forest deep in Croatia for lost artifacts, Natasha, with her Level 6 clearance, was right beside them, stepping through the brush. She never shied away from any work or pushed it onto someone else. She took every task with pride and carried it out professionally, efficiently, and with no complaints.

Her work ethic, aside from her beauty, was the first thing that had caught your attention. It drew you to her.

You tried to spend as much time around her possible. At lunch, you would find her sitting somewhere far away from others and joined her to eat in silence. You had convinced yourself that she was annoyed by your presence, but the longer it went on, the more comfortable you became. The more ease you had.

If she didn’t want you to sit with her, she would’ve gotten up and left or found a more secretive place to eat. She wouldn’t have sat in the same place every day.

You appreciated her presence and her silent companionship. You enjoyed the time that you spent with her and even looked forward to lunch every day, just so that you could sit with her.

A few weeks passed before Natasha started talking to you.

At first, she was quiet. She didn’t say much, only commenting on the work they were doing that day or asking you about your life. Then, as time went on, she became more social. She talked about everything, from politics to a show you had watched recently. She was easy to talk to. She carried the conversation and filled the silence when you didn’t know what to say.

She made it easy for you to fall for her. She was bright and lovely and kind and the most amazing woman you knew.

Soon enough, you and Natasha became more than friends.

She began to place her hand on your arm, the touch gentle and light. She gave you warm, private smiles throughout the work day. Her eyes were full of passion and desire when she caught your eyes. Her words turned from friendly to suggestive. Her sweet affections caused your heart to ignite into a blaze.

Slowly, her touches became more frequent and her words became heavier with innuendos. You wanted to drown in her attention. You wanted to take everything she gave you. You never wanted her to stop.

Even though you wanted to give in to her, you did your best to stay professional, and Natasha kept her distance. She respected your boundaries and limits.

It wasn’t appropriate to be in a relationship with your coworker, especially with how much Natasha outranked you. It wasn’t fair or professional. You were sure you’d get fired if your superiors knew about the relationship you already had, and no woman, even one as wonderful as Natasha, would be worth losing your job.

Yet, despite your stance, when the mission ended, you couldn’t stop yourself from falling into Natasha’s arms.

She was there and willing and had gone through the trouble of finding you at the SHIELD headquarters. She offered you her time and her mind. She was the best friend you’d ever had and an even better lover.

When you first got together, you didn’t think the relationship would last long, based off of the rank differences and the secret nature of it, but neither of you had ended it. It was a pocket of beauty and warmth that the both of you could turn to after a difficult mission or long day. She was always there for you, and you were always there for her.

She assisted you in climbing the ranks of SHIELD. However, even with all the extra training and recommendations Natasha gave, you were only ever able to get to Level 3. It was for the best, anyway. You weren’t skilled enough to take on more than you were already doing. You weren’t exactly a fan of nepotism, either.

You stayed with Natasha as she became an Avenger and you cried together when the truth of SHIELD was revealed. She supported your transition into a more peaceful, domestic life, away from the chaos of SHIELD.

Whenever she wasn’t working with the Avengers, she was at home with you, living a life of domestic bliss. You taught her how to cook and she helped you clean your home. You would stay up until the small hours of the morning, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. It was the live you had always dreamed of.

Your relationship continued for years, all without stepping out of the secretive nature that shrouded it.

That was until one night, when Natasha knocked on the door of your apartment. You welcomed her in with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. She went straight to the living room and sat on the couch, staring blankly at the dark television screen.

You didn’t mention her distant behavior, even though you could see that something was occupying her mind. You merely plated and served the pizza that had arrived ten minutes before Natasha. You nestled onto the couch and Natasha put her arm around you, though she didn’t say anything. She merely put on a movie and ate the pizza.

You gave her the quiet she needed and eventually, she spoke.

“I want to marry you.”

You blinked and pulled away to look at her face. Her expression was schooled into impartiality, but you could see the nervousness that tugged at the corner of her lips. “What?”

Natasha took in a deep breath and said, “I want to introduce you to the Avengers, and there’s no reason why I can’t introduce you as my fiancé. We’ve been together for seven years. Your home is the only one I have and you’re the person I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“You want to marry me.”

Natasha nodded and reached into her pocket to pull out the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. It was everything you wanted, down to every minor detail. You couldn’t have asked for anything better.

She motioned to the ring, a smile slowly growing onto her lips. “I know you don’t like large spectacles. So I was hoping this would be enough to convince you.”

You looked at her, your own grin spreading across your face. A warmth bloomed in your chest. “You don’t have to convince me, Nat.”

Her smile widened, the nervousness falling away from her expression. “So it’s a yes?”

“Yes,” you said, and pulled Natasha into a hug. You held her there, breathing in her scent, melting in her warm embrace. She held you back, squeezing you as if you would disappear if she let go.

Who would you ever say no when you could have the most amazing woman alive as your wife?

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sapphic-coded · 2 months

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I Swear That I Don't Have A Gun

You grew up in Ohio with your father, brother, and sister. Your family was small and strange. Because of that, you were picked on relentlessly at school. Until another weird kid showed up. Her family moved in across the street from you. It wasn't long until the two of you became friends. Your friendship became the light in your life. Until it ended suddenly. Rumors followed your friend's disappearance. Russian spies. You didn't see her again until you crossed paths at work.

Series Masterlist

Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader

Warnings: Violence. Reader is a messed up assassin and misses her gun home. Childhood trauma hanging out in the background. Hunted animals. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 4.6k

Author's Note: Life has been crazy. It still is. But this series is so much fun to write. Please know that your comments and love have kept my days bright. I read all your comments. Your likes and reblogs make me do my happy dance. It makes me happy that you guys are enjoying this series as much as I am. I apologize for the wait. I hope this new chapter makes up for it!

Taglist: @natsxwife @iliketozoneout @newawakening9 @natasha-1million @ilovemcuff @taliiiaasteria @alowint @yerisdumbass @natashasilverfox @fxckmiup

Chapter Eight: You Can't Raise Hell With A Saint

Mount Vernon, Ohio – 1993

You watched the station wagon slowly back out of your driveway from your bedroom window. As you watched, you folded and then unfolded the piece of paper in your hand several times. Your father’s departing words echoed in the back of your mind.

“This is vital to maintaining our relationship with our allies. Remember. When the time comes, we must position ourselves on the correct side.”

You waited until the station wagon disappeared from view before your attention shifted onto the snowman across the street. Your father is gone for the weekend. Your assigned homework is already completed and buried in your backpack. You had hoped for two uninterrupted days with your friend. You two had discovered a perfect hill for sledding not too far away. You had hoped you could return to it this weekend with Nat. But before your father had left, he had given you an assignment. One you were not allowed to ignore.

But if you finish it quickly like your homework…

You turned away from the window and got dressed. The house was quiet as you descended the stairs and hunted through the kitchen for breakfast. Your father had given both your brother and sister assignments. You figured your siblings were already out doing them. You found an opened pack of pop-tarts hidden behind the jar of two dead mating frogs. You ate the delicious blueberry pop-tart and washed it down with tap water from the sink. Once breakfast was done, you pulled on your snow boots and put on your heavy winter coat. You unfolded your father’s note once more to reread the words hastily scribbled in fine black ink. Then, you refolded up the note and shoved it into your coat’s pocket.

You left out the back door and pulled on your gloves as the morning winter air scratched at your face. The snow crunched beneath your boots as you headed towards the treeline. The woods behind your house stretched onwards for roughly two miles. It was one of the reasons why your father had chosen to settle here. He could disappear into this patch of quiet woodland and no one but you and your siblings would know.

For a while, the only noise was the steady rhythm of your footsteps and the chirping of birdsong as you left your house behind and walked deep into the woods. The sunlight shone brightly off the surface of the snow and made your eyes water if you stared at it for too long. You felt the wind beginning to pick up and blow against your back as you walked. Your pace did not slow until you reached the base of a tree with a dead hare hanging from a snare.

You knelt down into the cold snow and pulled your hunting knife from your coat pocket. You cut the rope and lifted the dead animal up by the rope’s lead. Its dark lifeless eyes stared at you and you searched for any ounce of pity. When you didn’t find any, you stood up and continued walking. The weight of the hare hanging from the small noose made you feel less alone. You kept walking until you spotted a smooth, round rock. You picked it up and it nearly covered your whole palm.

You tied the end of the rope around the rock as you continued further into the woods. The light of the sun had started to dim when you finally reached a large pond. Your feet carried you to a narrow dock that stretched out over the water. The wooden boards groaned beneath your feet as you came to the end of the dock. You looked down into the dark water. It hadn’t frozen over yet which made your assignment easier. The wind continued to blow at your back as you tossed the dead hare into the water. The lifeless animal hit the cold water with a splash and floated on the pond’s surface for a moment. Then the dark water pulled the dead hare down into its depths. You waited for some kind of response. A sign that your assignment was complete. But nothing happened. So you turned and started the trek home.

Your thoughts returned to your friend as you began following your footprints back the way you came. You would have the whole rest of the day to do whatever you wanted. And tomorrow you wouldn’t have to waste any time with another assignment. Your immediate future was bright and that fueled your quick pace.

But your pace started to slow when you lost sight of your footprints in the snow. The wind that had been blowing must have covered them up. You ignored the first sour taste of fear and kept going. You had planned to just follow your tracks back home, but you could make it back without them. You had only gone in one direction. It wouldn’t be difficult to find your way back home. You shoved your gloved hands into the pockets of your heavy coat as the wind now blew against your face.

The light of the sun continued to fade as you made new tracks in the snow. You were going in the right direction. You had to be. But you spotted new bushes and weird leaning trees that you hadn’t seen before. You felt yourself shivering against the cold as the light faded into the coming dark. You kept walking until you finally leaned against a tree and sank towards the freezing ground. You closed your eyes and tried to curl yourself up as much as you could within the fading warmth of your coat.

You don’t know how you messed up your assignment. You thought you knew your way back. You thought this would be so easy. Your father had dragged you and your siblings out here plenty of times. Yet you’re lost and you don’t know what to do other than sit here and–

“Y/N!”

Nat.

Triskelion, Washington D.C. – 2012

You miss your little piece of woodland paradise. You had discovered the small cabin during your fourth job. You had been posing as a realtor for your target. The cabin had caught your eye because of its remoteness. It was tucked away along the mountainside and far enough away from all the main roads that all you heard when you stepped outside was birdsong and the wind brushing through the trees. It was the perfect spot to kill your target. The cabin had been left on the market for years and only maintained by a vendor who came out once a season to keep the place from falling apart. You would have no interruptions to deal with. If your target tried to flee, it would be a long run back to a main road. And even if your target got that far, they would need to run from there back to the nearest town. This spot was an open playground. You could kill your target however you wanted. Chase them around if you were feeling energetic. Sever their head with an axe like a lumberjack cutting up wood.

But when you had pulled up to the cabin for the first time, you realized that you couldn’t do any of that here. Sure, you had plenty of space. The cabin was remote. The main road lightly traveled. When you let out a scream to test if anyone would come running, no one did. It wasn’t until you walked through the cabin and into each of the small, cozy rooms that you understood why you couldn’t bring your target here. The cabin felt too much like a home.

The pictures that hung on the walls were snapshots of the owner’s life. Frames full of smiling faces and captured happy moments. You saw the lives of their children begin with innocent, small, round confused faces and stop at handsome young faces decorated in medals and gowns. The furniture bore the nicks and marks of a life used. You could even see the spots of soot left behind in the fireplace where the vendor failed to clean.

You had only ever been in a home like this once before. You had sat down onto the couch in the cabin’s small family room and looked over at the kitchen. You imagined the smell of Nat’s home. You imagined Nat’s mother standing in the kitchen. It was the only thing you could think of. You sat there for a long time. It had been the first time in years that you thought about your friend without all the other stories hanging onto the memory. You thought about Nat. You thought about how happy you had been around her. You tried to imagine her as an adult, but you couldn’t. She was dead, and you were no longer the kid she met back in Ohio.

You ended up killing your target during a private tour of a much larger home far away from the cabin you found. By the time you had bought and moved into the cabin, the new owners of the other much larger home had only finished finding all your target’s missing fingers. The cabin had become your home. Your place to unwind after your jobs. You had filled it with everything you knew that belonged in a home. You loved the feeling of walking through the front door after a long job and just breathing in the smell of your home.

Your bunk is nothing like your cabin. You are buried beneath all the important floors. Your room has no windows. Your room has four white walls, harsh overhead lights, and a white tiled floor. The brightness of the room often gives you a headache which is why your favorite time to be in your bunk is when you are sleeping. All the lights are off and you can listen to the hum of the air conditioner. The best part is that you don’t have to wear that stupid suit when you are in here. You are even allowed to speak, however the only person you ever talk to is Rumlow.

You miss your cabin so much.

The lights in your room come on when the door opens. The twin sized mattress you lay on offers the bare minimum of comfort, yet you don’t bother to sit up. Instead, as you wake and hear familiar footsteps, you drape your arm over your eyes. It successfully blocks out the harsh light, but does nothing to stop the approaching footsteps.

“The bosses up top were impressed with your Bardstown mission,” Rumlow says.

You can’t fight back the small laugh that works its way past your curling lips. With your arm draped over your eyes you can see Sikora’s bent neck clearly. You can still hear each crunch as his body collided down each step. “I killed one person and they weren’t even my target.”

“Which worked out in your favor,” Rumlow says as his approaching footsteps stop. “You played your part. The mission was a success, and no one will look deeper than that.”

You lift your arm away from your eyes and let it flop down to your side. The harsh lights already make your eyes water, but you focus on Rumlow who stands beside your bunk looking down at you. “Do you find your work fulfilling?” Instead of answering you, he turns and steps away from your bunk. You sit up. “Satisfaction is very important to me.”

Rumlow causally makes his way over to a small table. He picks up the half finished bottle of bourbon Nat gave you before leaving Bardstown. You couldn’t drink it then. Removing your helmet around her would go against everything Rumlow has been drilling into your head. But you had ripped your helmet off the moment you returned to your bunk. You had brought the bottle to your lips, and you had drunk so much while thinking of her.

“What are you asking for?” he asks.

“Let me work,” you reply. “Without the suit and the rules. Tell me who the bosses want dead, give me back my gun, and let me kill them.”

Rumlow sets the bottle down. “That’s not how this works.”

You roll your eyes and flop back down onto your bunk.

“I also don’t have your gun,” he adds.

You close your eyes and swallow back the urge to yell. You hate this role so much. If you were impressing these bosses so much, why wouldn’t they let you show them how good you really were? What was the point of all the secrets if most of SHIELD was really HYDRA anyways? Or at least, most of the important people. Or whatever Rumlow had told you during those first few days.

“The bosses were also pleased with how you handled Romanoff,” Rumlow says.

Your eyes open and you stare up at the bland white ceiling. You fight back the smile you know is coming when you think back to the best day of your life. You hope you end up on another mission like that. Just the two of you. The one little new piece of your life that made tolerating this role just a bit more manageable.

“How do you feel?” Rumlow asks.

Like you want to pour over the office directory until you find her office. You’d race up there and sneak in when she isn’t around. You’d sit in the comfortable office chair that you hope she has up there. You’d take your helmet off and wait. And when she finally enters you’d spin around in her chair for a proper dramatic entrance.

You turn your head to look at Rumlow. “Depressed. My favorite gun is lost.”

Rumlow holds your stare. You know what he’s looking for. Perhaps if he could read minds then he would have found it. Instead, you hide all your fantasies and memories behind your little lie. It’s easy. You do the same trick your father always did. String together a story from bits and pieces of truth and mold it into what you need. You know it worked when Rumlow finally breaks your little staring contest. You don’t move when he turns away from you. You don’t want to give away your victory.

“You have training with Rollins in twenty,” Rumlow says before he leaves.

You wait until the door to your room shuts behind him before you get up. You move towards the table and grab the half empty bottle of bourbon. You bring it to your lips and take a sip. The smooth amber liquid washes across your tongue and burns down your throat. You think of when she handed you this bottle. You remember the way her hands briefly brushed across your gloved ones.

You set the bottle down and change while your mind lingers in that memory. Rollins is already waiting for you when you arrive at one of the training rooms a few floors up. Bright sunlight pours through the windows that run along the far side of the training room. You feel uncomfortably hot underneath your suit, and you already miss the cool kiss of the air conditioning that hums in your bunk. When you see Rollins in the training room, your interior visor screen lights up with data you already knew. Except for the healing ribs. That part is new.

Rollins leads you over to a bunch of blue mats. The hand to hand combat drills still feel weird. You know what you are supposed to do. You had learned back when Rumlow first shoved you into this stupid suit that going for kill strikes was not in compliance. You had to work your way up to kill strikes to make everything more believable.

“You’re not an assassin anymore. You’re a SHIELD agent.”

Which wasn’t even the truth. You found that this dance they forced you to do felt awkward. Your movements felt sloppy as you fought not to go for the opening that would put your target down permanently. And when a kill strike was considered acceptable, it always came far too late. It never felt right. These lessons pressed up against the memories of your training back in Ohio, and it often left you feeling more frustrated than anything else.

Your training with Rollins is quickly following the same trend as all the others. Your punches feel sluggish and off. Every time Rollins dodges your hit or counters, you know exactly what you should have done instead. Your frustration grows as you hold back. Your thoughts scream at you in the roar of your father’s voice. You want to give in. Why trade blows when it can easily be only you hitting your target? But you’ve already tried giving in. You had managed to bloody your knuckles a bit before Rumlow had started talking to you about compliance. Everything had stopped despite your urge to keep going. Then you were back at the beginning as if your outburst hadn’t happened.

Rollins dodges one of your punches and delivers a blow to your torso that pushes you back a step. He doesn’t advance. He stands there and waits as you swallow back all the foul words that usually tumble out of your mouth whenever something hurts. It’s hard not to say anything. Especially when he stands there looking bored. But you aren’t eager for them to start fucking with your mind again, so you keep quiet. The sound of your heavy breaths fills up your helmet as you return to your spot in front of Rollins. You duck under his right arm as it swings out. Your fist slams into his healing ribs and the noise he makes is exactly what you needed to hear. His cry is short-lived as he quickly masks it with a grunt. He retreats from you, and you let him. You watch as his breaths become more labored as his hands press against the very spot you hit. You don’t know if you just broke one of his healing ribs. It hadn’t been your intention, but you certainly didn’t pull that punch.

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”

Her voice steals your attention. She stands by the door dressed in a dark gray sweatshirt and black joggers. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest, and her head tilts slightly as her question is first met with silence. Well, more like your silence and Rollins’ heavy breaths. You could shatter this stretch of quiet in a heartbeat, and you want to. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you bury the urge. Your eyes greedily take in the sight of your friend. You are grateful for your stupid helmet as your eyes run down the length of her legs and stop at the black sneakers that cover her feet.

“I thought you were heading back up to New York with Rogers,” Rollins finally says.

“Eventually,” she replies with a slight shrug and walks further into the training room. “But I have some stuff I need to take care of first.” She uncrosses her arms as she casually approaches the mats. “You should head back before anyone from medical catches you here.”

“I’m a bit busy training the quiet one,” Rollins says.

You should have tried to break his ribs. He’d be too busy dealing with that pain to put a premature end to this wonderful moment.

“I can take over,” she offers.

Your helmet conceals the wide smile that cuts across your face. You don’t know what you have done to deserve so much alone time with your friend, but you will happily do whatever it takes to keep ending up in these wonderful moments. You don’t hear Rollins leave, and when you look over at the man, you can tell that he is unsure if he should leave. The questions he cannot voice are written plainly across his face and your smile falters. Is he…is he not going to leave? Is he really going to ruin this for you? You want to tell him that his concerns are unnecessary. If you were going to spill the beans, you would have done it the moment you and Nat were alone on the quinjet. Or sometime in Bardstown. Not in some fancy building secretly full of HYDRA agents ready to put you down with just a couple of random words.

“Don’t worry,” her voice pulls your attention back to her. Despite the fact that she is addressing Rollins, her focus is on you. You spot the beginnings of a smirk that stirs up something inside you. Something exciting and warm. “I won’t break her.”

You hear Rollins sigh and you feel the buzz of your excitement grow.

“If you do, you’re the one having that conversation with Rumlow,” Rollins replies. “Not me.” Rollins gives you one last warning look before leaving. You watch the man’s retreating form and feel at ease when you see his hand come up to gingerly touch the spot where you hit him.

When you look back over at Nat, you find her pulling her dark gray sweatshirt over her head. The uncomfortable heat that sticks to your skin beneath your suit returns as you feel your hands begin to sweat inside your gloves. You ignore the information that attempts to clog up your visor. Your focus is first on the black sleeveless shirt she wears. The hem of the shirt gets caught briefly on her sweatshirt and lifts to reveal the barest hint of a firm ab. You blink when the shirt falls back down.

Nat sets her sweatshirt aside and steps onto the mats. “Are they always that serious around you?”

You nod, but you are not thinking about Rollins, or Rumlow, or how painfully serious both tend to be at all times. You are too consumed by the realization that you have never seen this much of your friend before. No. That wasn’t it. You can recall several old memories of warm summer days and cool lake water. But you hadn’t felt like this back then. You are staring at her lean biceps and you just want to touch her.

She steps forward. “Your missions with them must be fun.” She shifts into a fighting stance and raises her fists. “Let’s see what you can do.”

You raise your fists and shift your stance. Your smirk at your friend’s earlier sarcasm falls away as your visor’s screen identifies multiple places to strike first. You know what you want to do, but that option isn’t listed anywhere on the screen. If it wasn’t for Nat standing in front of you, you would have quickly returned to your sour, frustrated mood. But instead, you wait for her to strike first. A few moments pass and all you two do is slowly circle the mats. You realize that she’s waiting for you to strike first. A hint of your concealed smile returns. You happily oblige.

Your fist swings towards her, and you feel her arm quickly block your strike. Your focus is on her face, and you can tell that she barely had to think about her reaction. You continue to move in a slow circle and she does the same. You fall back into the training that Rumlow has been drilling into you since they freed you from that chair. You move in and strike. You frown slightly as she blocks or dodges every one of your strikes. It makes you feel like she’s in your mind. That she knew what you planned to do the exact same time you did. You retreat back a step when your fifth punch doesn’t land.

You wait for her to move in with her attack, but it doesn’t come. You know she can’t see your face, but it feels like she can when she offers a small shrug and that small smile creeps back in.

“I’m guessing that was your warm-up?”

You know it’s bait, but you take it anyway. You move in with another series of attacks. Every single one of your punches feels just as sluggish as before. The rhythm feels off. You feel like each attack is wrong. Your strikes aren’t landing and just as you are about to sink into the seething grip of your frustration, you see Nat’s fist coming towards you. Your hand catches her wrist before her fist can make contact with your helmet.

You watch as her brow arches in a silent question. You ignore the data that races across your visor’s screen and focus on the weight of her wrist in your hand. The familiarity of it lures out pieces of warmer memories. The touch of her hand taking yours. How her touch would melt the rigid cold left after early summer mornings with your father. You abandon the awkward dance you have been following. You can hear whispers of your father’s voice in the back of your mind as you take a breath and move.

Her wrist slips free before you can pull her towards you. She goes on the offensive and the attacks you block send you back a few steps. You spy her foot moving to hook behind yours and you maneuver away from that pitfall only to feel her fist connect with your side. The pain is barely there. You two are sparring. But it lights a very familiar fire inside of you.

You press forward with an onslaught of strikes that feel more natural. She continues to block most of them until you manage to slip past her defenses and successfully hook your foot behind hers. As you sweep her foot out from underneath her, her hands come up to latch onto the fabric of your stupid suit. She lets her falling body pull you down, and you both land on your side. Your one hand reaches to dislodge the grip she has on your suit while your other instinctively reaches out towards her neck. You feel her legs wrap around your waist and in one quick movement, you are on your back. Her hand stops yours from reaching her throat and pins it against the mat. She quickly pins your other hand to the mat, and you stare up at her as your heavy breaths fog up your interior visor.

She doesn’t let go of your hands as she looks down at you. You know all she can see is her own reflection staring back at her, and you want her to pull the stupid helmet off your head. You wouldn’t be breaking the rules if she exposed this game. But she doesn’t. Instead, she leans down just an inch or two closer and asks, “How do you feel about opera?”

You shrug.

Her smile returns as she finally lets go of your hands. She gets up and you instantly miss her warm weight on top of you. You sit up as she returns to where she left her sweatshirt. She digs into her sweatshirt’s pocket, pulls something out, and tosses it towards you. You catch it. You can feel another burst of excitement rush through you as you stare at the phone in your hand.

“That’s yours,” Nat says as she pulls her sweatshirt back on. “I thought it might be easier for us to communicate. I already loaded my number into your phone.”

You have her phone number. You don’t move from your spot on the mats as your fingers wrap tenderly around the phone. Direct access to your friend without needing to go through anyone else or jump through any additional hoops. It feels like you’re back in Ohio. All you need to do is cross the street, and she’s there waiting for you.

“I’ll be in contact soon,” she says as she moves towards the door. “Don’t put Rollins back in medical while I’m away.”

You watch her leave. You wait until she’s gone before you lean backwards onto the mat and let out a quiet, short laugh.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic #my fanfic #fic: i swear that i don't have a gun

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lcvernat · 1 year

Text

Case of the Sniffles | Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Request: could you write a fic with natasha x fem!reader where the all avengers were sent on like a really important mission but natasha’s missing and no one can find her so reader goes looking for her to find her sick asf in her bedroom? can u make it really fluffy, please? thank u!! 😁

Word Count: 1.2k

Content Warnings: fluff, mentions of the flu/medicine, strong language

A/N: thank you for requesting anon! i am so sorry this took me so long to get to but i hope you enjoy this anyway <3 sick fics are so cute and fluffy to write i rlly enjoy writing them so thank you again for this request

"Where the hell is Romanoff?"

Tony finally put words to what the rest of the team had been thinking for the past few minutes. The team were geared up and ready to infiltrate a highly secured HYDRA base, one of the most important missions to date. Months of gathering intel had led up to finding this base - they had hidden it extremely well, and time was of the essence right now. Except, a very obvious anomaly was the missing presence of your girlfriend.

This was extremely unusual, because one thing Natasha Romanoff never missed out on was a mission. Especially one of this importance. It was very out of character for her, and you tried your hardest not to worry. Tried not to let your mind drift to dark, unrealistic places. She was fine, she had to be fine, you had literally seen her last night and she was fine. She just wasn't present.

"I'll go look for her," you volunteer, getting a murmur of agreement from the rest of the team as you set off on your hunt through the Compound.

"Nat?" You call out, "Did you forget that we have a mission today? Leaving in... what was meant to be three minutes ago, actually."

No answer.

You sigh. She wasn't in the kitchen or in the living room, so the most logical place to check next would be her own bedroom. She was never one to sleep in, but it wouldn't hurt to check. She had to be somewhere, after all.

Knocking gently on the door to her bedroom, you called out, "Sweetheart, you in here?"

Still no answer, so you gently pushed open the door and walked in. It was pitch black, and the curtains were drawn. You could just about make out a figure on the bed, deciding to switch the light on and squinting your eyes at the brightness. With the room now full of light, you could tell that the figure on the bed was definitely Natasha, if the strands of fiery red hair peeking out of her blanket cocoon were anything to go by.

"Nat?" You whisper, gently poking her and sending a silent prayer up that she isn't dead. She groaned in response, shuffling around in her cocoon as she subconsciously pulled the blanket further over her head. At least she was alive. Still very uncharacteristically Natasha, though. "You okay? Forget about the mission?"

Natasha shoved the blankets off of herself then, shooting up in the bed with wide eyes, "Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I missed my al-" She was cut off by a sneeze, and your suspicion rose. Now that you could take a better look at her without her being covered by blankets, she didn't look well. At all. Her face had taken on a ghostly pallor, and her eyes looked visibly tired despite her just being asleep for hours longer than she'd normally be. You narrow your eyes, gently placing the back of your hand on her forehead and you nearly wince at the heat radiating off of it.

"God, Tasha, you're burning up. You have a fever."

She shook her head, "No. 'M fine. Promise. I just slept in."

"You are not fine. Lie back down. You're clearly sick."

As if to answer your question, a sneezing fit shook her entire body. Still, Natasha was relentlessly stubborn, even if she had a fever that felt like she'd spent the entire night in a sauna, "I am fine," she insisted, sniffling. She tried to push herself off of the bed, only to be greeted by your firm hands on her shoulders, pushing her back down.

"No. You are not going anywhere. You are going to get some rest, and I'll be your doctor. I'll strap you down to this bed if I need to."

She glared at you, but she must feel really shit because it didn't take that much for her to finally agree, even if it was reluctantly. She lay back down, and you kissed her forehead gently, brushing her hair out of her face. "Okay, I'm going to tell the team that they can manage the mission without me, because I have a girlfriend who needs to be taken care of, and I'll grab a few things for you. You stay here, and keep the blankets off you, you don't want to overheat with your fever."

"Yes, ma'am," Natasha mock-saluted and you laughed, kissing her forehead once more before leaving to tell the team.

Honestly, Peter should be locked up for telling Tony what 'whipped' and 'simp' meant, because the amount of times he had called you those two words when you explained why you were staying behind was enough to last a lifetime. As if he wouldn't do the same for Pepper. He was such a hypocrite.

After taking a detour to change out of your suit and into something more comfortable, you returned to Natasha's room carrying a box of tissues, some Tylenol, a thermometer, a thin blanket, a bottle of water and a pint of ice cream. The redhead sat up in bed as you entered, and you flashed her a smile.

"Okay," you dumped the items at the bottom of her bed, "first, here's a blanket for you. It's thin enough so it won't cause you to overheat but will help with the chills that can come with a fever," you threw the blanket towards Natasha and she caught it with a grateful smile, draping it over herself.

"I've brought ice cream for later, and I can make you soup if you want some. We can have a movie day too. Now open wide," you smirked, picking up the thermometer and walking towards her, popping it into her mouth. She reached out to take ahold of your free hand as you both waited, and you hummed contentedly. It seemed sick Natasha was a clingy Natasha. You liked that bit.

The thermometer beeped and you took it out of her mouth, inhaling sharply as you read the number, "102 degrees? Yeah, you're definitely not going anywhere for the next few days."

Natasha groaned, opening her mouth to more than likely complain, but she quickly closed it when you answered her with a warning glare. "No arguing."

You handed her the bottle of water and some Tylenol before putting the thermometer away.

"You want some soup?"

She took the pills before shaking her head, "Not hungry. In the mood for some cuddles, though."

"That, I can do," you smiled. Putting the pint of ice cream on the bedside table for later, you jumped onto the bed, snuggling into Natasha. "You feeling okay?"

She nodded, "Apart from feeling like general shit, I'm a lot better now that you're here."

"That was extremely sappy of you, Romanoff."

She smiled before breaking into a cough, "Seriously, though. I've never had someone take care of me before, even if it's as simple as taking care of me when I have the flu, so it... it means a lot. Thank you," she sniffed.

You passed Natasha a tissue, trying your hardest not to cry at her reaction to such a simple gesture. Taking care of someone when they're sick should be expected, it shouldn't be surprising for Natasha, and you hated that it was. "I love you, of course I'll take care of you when you're sick. Even when you're not sick, anything you need and I'm here, okay?"

She nodded, putting an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. You didn't even care that you could potentially catch her germs, all you wanted was to be in her arms and make her feel better.

"Wanna have a movie marathon for the entire day?" You asked, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"Absolutely."

tags: @sheneonromanoff @olicity-boo @r4nd0mgir1 @tigerlillyruiz @dj-bynum3718 @lovelyy-moonlight

dm me, send me an ask or reply to be added to my taglist!

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow x you #black widow fanfiction

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arlana-likes-to-write · 12 days

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Can you do a Natasha x fem Reader based off wildest dreams by Taylor Swift? The idea I had was something like R and Nat having feelings for each other and then end up kissing or something a one of Tony’s (Tony is R’s dad) parties. They end up have a secret relationship because R is scared to come out to the team and especially her dad. But they end getting caught by Thor who accidentally tells Tony and the team at a dinner or something. But there’s a happy ending

Note: I do apologize but I kind of changed the ending on this but I do hope you enjoy it.

Warning: secret relationship, reader is closeted for the beginning, kissing, angst with a happy ending, drinking, self-doubt, miscommunication

Relationships: Natasha x Stark!Reader, Tony x Pepper x Reader (platonic)

If there was one thing about your father, he could throw a party, and most of the time, you had no idea why a party was happening. You knew the team returned from a mission. They saved the day, were the heroes, and now they were drinking and partying. All expect Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow was nursing a Long Island iced tea outside the party. She was wearing a black mesh jumpsuit. The top was sequined with a deep v-neckline and long sleeves. It was a showstopper. Every head seemed to turn towards her but ignored every advantage, man or woman.

You sighed, stood up from your spot at the bar, and pushed your way through the party to the outdoor balcony. You felt her eyes on you as the door closed behind you, and the sounds of the party became muffled. She would come; you just had to wait. So you walked to the patio set in the corner and sat down.

The cool summer air caused goosebumps to form on your skin. You enjoyed the cooler weather, and the sun blasted the city during the day. It recorded high temperatures this year. “You are going to get sick wearing just that,” you knew she was smirking without looking. You were more focused on the city skyline.

“Come keep me warm then,” this time, you looked at the Russian as she walked over to you. She sat down next to you, her thigh barely touching yours, but you felt the warmth she gave off. This was the nature of your relationship with Natasha. Constantly flirting, teasing touches, and longing looks at one another. That was it. It was as if you were both too scared to take that final step. “Are you not enjoying the party?” You turned to face her. Your arm bent on the back of the couch, and you rested your head in your hand. “The talk of the town is that you’re a hero.” You were caught off guard by the bitter laugh that escaped from her, and she sipped on her drink. You frowned.

“I’m not a hero.”

“I think you are,” she said, placing her hand on your thigh. You were wearing a skirt, so you enjoyed the feeling of her hand on your skin.

“You look good,” she said, changing the direction of the conversation. Did you wear this for me?” You rolled your eyes but placed your free hand on top of hers.

“No,” you deadpanned. “I don’t want to inflate your ego, Romanoff.” She smiled and moved closer to you. You thought she was going to kiss you. Instead, she rested her head in space between your neck and shoulder. “Nat,” your voice shook. “What are you doing?” She hummed, and the vibration caused a shiver to travel down your spine.

“I was thinking about kissing you,” she pulled away, and you felt the warmth of her breath on your lips. “What do you say to that, pretty girl?”

“I’d say, what are you waiting for?” Her lips were softer than you expected. Her hand moved to your cheek, keeping you close as the kiss depended on it. She ended it. Her lips were red, and her cheeks were rosy.

“Let’s get out of here,” she whispered. “Drive out of the city, away from the crowds.” You have never moved so fast in your life.

Now, your relationship with the Black Widow has changed. The longing looks were still there, but the flirtatious behavior was replaced with stolen kisses when the team wasn’t looking. Too often, Natasha pushed you up against the tower’s walls and kissed you as her life depended on it, always ending before the team caught you. No one knew, especially your father. For six months, Natasha and you kept your relationship a secret. Even when you knew Natasha wanted to show you off at every party, cuddle with you during moving nights, or claim you as hers. It was you. You weren’t out yet to Tony, and the man was trying to set you up with every eligible bachelor in the city. You were so scared he would be disappointed in you. So you hid, and you pretended it wasn’t kissing you.

You woke up to an empty bed, and the spot Natasha had slept in the previous night was cold. There was the lingering scent of her perfume on her pillow. You had an apartment a little away from the tower. Tony told you often that you could live in the tower, but you liked the sense of privacy. It was also the perfect place to be with Natasha, away from the team. You could be all over her, which you were last night, and a fight broke out.

You were needy and missed your girlfriend, which caused you to be attached to your girlfriend like a koala. She laughed it off at first, poking fun because she was usually the one that constantly wanted to be close to you. You grumbled something about being unable to hug her all day, which was true. You were both so busy the only time you could touch her was at night or early morning before your busy schedule whisked you away from one another. As the night carried on, you noticed a shift in her mood. With Natasha, it was up in the air on how to deal with it. Sometimes, she was honest and told you the truth. Other times, she bottled everything up and shut down.

You decided on the direct approach and asked what was bothering her. She was quiet for a moment and focused on the Bond movie that was playing. It was her night to pick, so you weren’t surprised when you returned from the bathroom to see it queued up on the TV. ‘Are you ashamed to be with me?’ she asked.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time she’s asked you this question. As soon the question was asked, you knew the direction was headed. Over the past six months, it was the only thing you fought about. Hurtful words were said on both sides. She was tired of being your secret. Even though you fought about it before this time, it felt final. She was almost fed up waiting for you.

You sat in your bed and stared at the clothes she had left in your room. Most of them were folded neatly in the space you made for her in the dresser or hung up in the closet next to yours. These clothes were from two nights ago when you ripped them off your girlfriend. You slumped back in the bed, pulled Natasha’s pillow over your face, and inhaled your scent. You needed to get out of bed, but the weight of the fight and waking up to Natasha being gone was soul-crushing. Sighing, you force yourself out of bed to take a quick shower.

You were part of the lead team of scientists at Stark Industries. A position you had to work your ass to get the position and prove to everyone you were more than qualified. You heard the whispers and saw the dirty looks, that everyone believed you got the job because Tony Stark is your father.

Braiding your hair, you entered your kitchen and found a note on the counter. You recognized the handwriting of your girlfriend. ‘Your breakfast smoothie is already blended, and I peeled some hard-boiled eggs. Maybe we can do lunch if you aren’t busy. Forever and Always.’

It was a saying the two of you said. Instead of ‘I love you’, it was ‘Forever and Always.’ Natasha found it easier to say that than the L-word. You kissed the note and placed it in your pocket. Still, your heart felt heavy.

There was no time to see Natasha between meetings, running experiments, and writing reports. You were exhausted and missed your girlfriend. It wasn’t until 3:30 when you saw her. She was in the kitchen, cutting her sandwich into triangles. You always found it funny, but she claimed it tasted better. Your eyes locked onto hers pointed to the side hallway and walked over there. With your back against the wall, you waited. You heard her footsteps as she stood in front of you. “Hi,” she smiled.

“Hi,” you responded and kissed her cheek. But you refused to move away, basking in the warmth she always gave off. You put her arms around her neck and hugged her. Her hands found their natural place on your waist. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry. I’m just so scared.” You felt her nod and gently pulled back so she could face you. Your arms remained tightly around her neck.

“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry, too. Forever and always, I promise.”

“Forever and always,” you whispered against her lips. She kissed you softly. In hindsight, getting lost in how Natasha kissed you was a bad idea. You bite her bottom lip, and the gasp she releases lets you deepen the kiss. Her grip on you tightened, and she pushed you back against the wall. You moaned, and it only seemed to spur her on. Kissing Natasha was everything. Every time she kissed you, it took your breath away. Gently morning kisses or rough, passionate kisses against your kitchen counter. You could spend your entire day in her arms and her lips on yours. “Ah, Lady Stark, oh-” you jumped at the sound of the God of Thunder’s voice. His eyes flickered to you and Natasha, whose arms were still around you. “How long has this been going on?”

“6 months,” Natasha answered. You’ve lost your ability to speak. The god smiled.

“Very well. I will find you later,” he winked at you and returned the way he came. Thor knows you thought. Someone on the team caught you. It was only a matter of time before it got back to Tony or Pepper. The Avengers were superheroes, super soldiers, and trained spies, but they were horrible secret-keepers.

“Sweetheart,” you snapped out of your thoughts by Natasha’s voice. “Are you okay?” You nodded, unsure if you were.

“I have to tell Tony and Pepper before it gets back to them through someone else.”

“Do you want me to?”

“No,” you cut her off before she could finish her question. You desperately wanted her to be there but needed to do it alone. You were the reason your relationship was hidden for so long. “Sorry,” you ran your hands over your braid. “I have to do it alone,” you placed her hand over her heart. The steady beat calmed you down. She put her hand over yours and kissed you softly. The kiss was so gentle it felt like a goodbye. You kept your forehead against hers and closed your eyes. There was so much you wanted to say.

What would your last request be? Would you tell her to remember you? She took you to the beach for a date. You stood in a nice dress and stared at the sunset, red lips and rosy cheeks. ‘Remember me there,’ you thought. ‘Say you’ll see me again even if it’s in your wildest dreams.’

“Forever and always,” you said again.

“Forever and always.”

You promised Natasha that you would find her as soon as you were done talking with Tony. Luckily, you had some paperwork to give him, so the visit had a more tangible reason to see him. You opened the door to his office as a dart was thrown, and it hit the door frame. “Oops, sorry, kid,” you rolled your eyes and pulled the dart out of the wood.

“For you,” you dropped the pile of folders onto his desk. “We just need you to verify our numbers are correct, and then we can move on to the next phase.” He groaned dramatically and flopped down into his chair.

“You know I promoted Pepper to CEO, so I didn’t have to deal with paperwork.” Your mother was a saint. You chuckled and aimed at the dart board. You threw it and hit the bullseye.

“It’s your project,” you said, walking over to the board and pulling out the darts. We don’t want another Ultron,” you saw him roll his eyes.

“You make one robot that goes rampant, and it’s all everyone talks about,” you laughed and threw another round of darts. “Do you need these back now?” He pointed to the files.

“No,” you sat in the chair and crossed your legs. “Can I not spend time with my sperm donor?” You ducked at the stress ball he threw at you. He hated it when you called him that, but you loved getting a rise out of him. “Actually,” you folded your hands. “Can we talk about something?” He sat up in the chair. It was rare for you to see the man so seriously.

“Are you dying? Pregnant? Did you kill someone?”

“No!” You laughed and scratched the back of your head. “I uh shit,” you weren’t sure why you were so nervous. You knew the man was an ally. Stark Industries was at every event during Pride.

“Angel,” he smiled. “You can tell me anything, and I won’t be upset.” Angel was the name he called you since you were a baby. You were born very premature and got sick so easily that the doctors weren’t sure if you were going to make it. But you recovered.

“I’m gay,” you whispered. “I’ve known for a while,” you said before he could say anything. “I’ve been so scared to tell you.” He stared at you, blinking a few times, but remained silent. “Right, sorry for wasting your time. I’ll go.” You stood up quickly, knocking over the chair. You left it on the ground and stumbled out of the office. You needed to get out. You needed to go.

Natasha was getting worried. She thought it was taking a lot longer than she thought it would. She asked the AI where Tony was, and the Black Widow walked into a shit show when she entered his lab. Tony was frantically moving holograms around, but they flashed red, and he would try again. Pepper was no better. Her phone was pushed against her ear, and she was pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth. “Are we being attacked?” She asked, making her presence known. Tony glanced at her before focusing back on whatever he was doing.

“I don’t have time for whatever stupid prank Yelena or Peter pulled. Whatever they broke, just order another one,” he began to work again. I have to find her.” He said it mostly to himself. It was a mumbled and throwaway comment, but Natasha heard it. ‘I need to find her,’ Tony said. Natasha grabbed Tony by the shoulder without thinking and threw him into the chair. She steadied him so he wouldn’t fall over.

“What did you say to her?” She asked, crossed her arms, and took a small step back.

“How do you-” he squinted his eyes at her. “Look, I didn’t say anything to her.” He threw his hands to the side. It clicked in Natasha’s head. She knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. You took his silence as rejection. “Now move so I can find our daughter.” But Natasha stayed.

“Where have you looked?”

“FRIDAY can’t find her,” Pepper ended her call and walked over. “I’ve called some of her favorite sports, but no one has seen her.”

“She’s either turned off her phone or blocked me from finding her.” Natasha always believed you were more intelligent than him, but she knew where you would run off.

“I know where she would go,” Natasha turned on her heels to leave.

“Wait,” Tony called out. His frantic voice caused the Black Widow to stop. “Why do you know so much about her?” Right. If you took off, you wouldn’t have told him. Slowly, Natasha faced him.

“I’ve been dating her for six months,” she said. “So I will find her and make sure she’s safe.”

You knew your time was up when you heard the quiet chime of the front door. You waited until strong arms circled your waist and pulled you flush to her chest. “Found you, my love,” you smiled and chuckled. Of course, she would be the one to find you. She was the only one who knew about this place. “Tell me about this painting.”

You told her a story that captured the emotion of the painting in front of you. You stood in a small art gallery way past closing hours, but the owner gave you the key. You were an investor here, meeting the owner in Central Park while they were painting. The art gallery was small, and it showcased local and small artists. It was peaceful, and the place gave your mind a break. You kept the gallery a secret, protecting your space from the crazy personalities of the Avengers.

“Is he mad?” You finally asked. Natasha shook her head and kissed your shoulder.

“No, he’s worried he couldn’t find you,” she chuckled softly. “I may have told him we are dating.”

“Oh,” you whispered. You felt oddly okay with him knowing, even if he wasn’t going to accept you as you were. “Where is he?”

“Well, I told him to stay at the tower,” Natasha sighed. “But he’s stubborn, and I caught him and Pepper following me.” You laughed, not surprised that Tony Stark couldn’t follow a car without getting caught. You spun around to face your girlfriend, arms around her neck and hugged her tight.

“Forever and always,” you whispered.

“I love you too.” The three-word statement shocked you and made your stomach flip. Your heart filled with butterflies. You were happy and terrified but mostly happy.

You were startled when you walked out of the gallery, and your dad bulldozed into you. His arms wrapped around you tightly. “I love you,” he said. “I love you and support you even if you have questionable taste in women.” You let out a watery laugh and wiped away your tears.

“Thanks, Stark,” Natasha rolled her eyes with a small smile on her face.

“I will support you. I will always want you to be happy,” Tony continued.

“We love you no matter who you love,” Pepper said, getting out of the car and joining you. “No matter what.” You collapsed into your parents’ arms and cried against them. A weight was lifted off your chest, and you felt free.

The next Stark Party, you were sitting on the couch. This time, Natasha’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist and your hand on her thigh. It seemed second nature that the two of you were attached at the hip. No one batted an eye. When looking back at it, you seemed a little silly. But now you were free to live your life to the fullest.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x stark!reader #tony stark x pepper potts #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow fanfiction #inspired by music

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