somnambulants

[somnambulants]

make me your future

summary: set during black widow. Yelena walks into a bar. A bar you happen to work in.  word count: 1.6K

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

Groaning internally, you roll your eyes at the line, not even bothering to look up at the person who’d said it.

Who even uses pickup lines anymore? Seriously?

“Not in the slightest.”

You continue to clean glasses behind the bar. Lining them up neatly one by one. Whoever it is, they can wait.

You’ve been working at this bar for about a year and a half since you’d moved to the city. It’s a decent job. Not what you’d pick if you had a choice, but you don’t hate it.

You have your favorite customers, too. Some of the regulars. The old man who shows you photos of his grandkids while nursing a beer. The woman with the fixed business-like expression who gives you an exorbitantly large tip every-time you bring her a glass of the already crazy expensive red wine she drinks.

Perks of working in a moderately upscale establishment known for it’s discretion for under the table, not strictly legal activities means you’re fortunate that the majority of your customers are nice and quiet and stay to themselves.

Well, usually anyway.

Clearly not everyone had gotten the memo.

“Weird,” the person doesn’t seem to sense the hostility in your voice, sliding onto the bar stool in front of you. You can detect a faint accent as they continue, more flirtatiously: “Me neither. Well...not until I saw you, at least.”

Raising an eyebrow at their boldness, you finally look up, ready to give them a piece of your mind and promptly lose the words that were forming on the tip of your tongue.

The woman in front of you is your type; so your type that your type doesn’t even describe how much of your type she is.

“Does that ever work on anyone?” You finally force out. You don’t know why you’re saying it; clearly it works. It’s working on you right now.

The woman shrugs. “I wouldn’t know,” she says, propping her elbows onto the table to rest her chin in her hands and looking at you intently. “Never tried it before. Is it working?”

Heat flushes up your neck under her gaze as you scramble for something to say. “Can I -- Can i get you anything?”

Her voice turns playful: “Your number?”

Twisting your lips to hide your smile at that, you also duck your head a little. “I meant anything to drink?”

“Oh,” she frowns a little, thinking. She doesn’t look offended by your clear diversion. “Water, I guess?”

“You’re not from around here, are you?” You can’t help yourself from asking as you slide a glass of water across the bar to her.

Her accent is puzzling to say the least. You’d say slavic of some kind for sure but she has hints of almost American inflections every now and then on some of her words.

It’s intriguing.

She gives you another smile, leaning in closer. “Visiting family,” she confirms. “My sister and her partner just moved here with their kids. She’s a science teacher.”

“That’s sweet of you to visit,” you say. “You must be close.”

She shrugs, taping her brightly painted nails along the rim of her glass. “We were as kids. Now not so much but we just reconnected recently.”

As she takes another sip of her water, you let your eyes linger on her face.

There’d been something about her words as she’d said them. Something that makes you think that her story isn’t as truthful as she’s making it out to be. Or maybe not at all.

Just a hunch of yours.

A lot of the patrons had stories like this they’d recount for you when you’d asked about anything even slightly personal - before you’d learned not to ask; stories that sounded like they could be true but more than likely weren’t.

Or weren’t the whole truth, anyway.

This bar was well known amongst those who needed to know that this was the place to go if you wanted to lay low. Or pretend to be someone else.

“And thankfully for me I came to visit,” she adds after downing the water, getting that playful glint in her eyes again as they snap back to your own. “Because here you are.”

You can’t help but laugh this time. She’s just so effervescently charming without even trying. “Yep. Here I am.”

You continue talking for what feels like only minutes but must be much longer; just about random stuff. The woman is surprisingly easy to talk to and adept at steering conversations to the point that you end up on the most obscure topics more than once.

When you look at the clock at some point, you’re almost blown away to see half your shift has gone by just talking to this woman whose name you don’t even know.

As if sensing where your thoughts have gone, she introduces herself. “I’m Yelena.”

“Y/N.”

The woman -- Yelena -- chuckles. Not unkindly. More like she thinks what you’ve said is amusing for some reason. “I know,” she says and you frown a little until you see her eyes on your name tag, which is pinned to the front of your shirt. 

 “Oh,” you say, a little embarrassed. “Right.”

As you turn your head, trying to hide the flush you’re assuming is creeping up your neck, you also notice the line of people in front of you that must have accumulated as you’d become distracted by her.

You groan. “Ill be right back.”

You serve faster than you’ve ever served. Practically throwing the drinks at all the patrons in your haste to get back to her in worry that she’ll get bored and leave eventually.

When you finally make your way through all of them and turn around, you find her seat still occupied and her in the same spot as before. Your heart does a backflip in relief.

“Sorry,” you say breathlessly as soon as you’re back in front of her, not really sure why you’re saying it, only sure that you are really sorry you’d had to leave her side. 

Yelena waves a hand, unbothered as she tilts her head towards you. “It’s fine. You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know?”

You freeze, not knowing how to react. “I  --”

This time, she outright laughs at your reaction, which leaves you no doubt looking even more flustered than before. Her eyes glowing with almost-childlike glee as she grins at you teasingly. “See? Cute.”

“Oh yes,” a voice drawls. You turn, only to find the voice belongs to a weirdly familiar looking red head, who is eyeing you up and down with an unreadable look on her face. “Just... adorable.”

“This is Natasha,” Yelena says, looking between you both. “My... sister. The...science teacher.”

Oh. 

So the sister is in fact real. And the sister is also looking at you with a knowing look in her eyes. 

She most definitely doesn’t look like a science teacher. You’re sure science teachers probably don’t walk around clad all in leather. Or look like they could snap you in half. At least none of the ones you’d ever had.

You’re also pretty sure that science teachers don’t also double up as members of the avengers, but you don’t say anything to that fact.

You do however recognise the black widow as soon as you see her. She’s pretty unmistakable, after all. 

“Oh,” you say. “Can I get you a drink?”

As you ask, you pretend you don’t see the tail ends of the way Natasha is mouthing the words: science teacher? to her with clear quizzicality. Or Yelena’s clearly unbothered shrug in response.

Natasha inclines her head at your words. “No. Thank you. I think we better get going, actually. Yelena?”

Yelena’s lips form into a pout. “Already?”

Heart sinking down to the soles of your feet, you pretend to fiddle around behind the bar as they seem to have a silent argument with their eyes in front of you.

It ends with Yelena rolling her eyes with a little huff. Reaching into her pocket to grab a couple of bills and stuff them into your tip jar, she gives you one last smile. Her smile is so infectious that you’re helpless to do anything but smile back, trapped under her spell. 

You don’t know how she managed to do it but in the tiny amount of time you’d spent around her, she’d had you almost convinced that love at first sight was a thing. 

And that you were it’s next victim. 

And because of that, you’d never forgive yourself for what happens next. You’re distracted for a brief moment, pulled away to serve another customer as they both continue to converse silently and then when you turn back around, they’re both gone.

No sign of Yelena. Or her sister. It’s like they’d vanished into thin air.

You scan the room multiple times but come up empty.

She’s gone.

--

(You lose hope pretty quickly that she’s ever going to come back. A week goes by. Then another. And another.

Nothing.

Months pass by with nothing and slowly, you start to forget you ever met her. Well, not quite; you never get out of the habit of looking at the door at work every now and then hopefully but you stop expecting anything after a while.  

Until one day it changes.

You’re in the middle of serving someone and just as you hand them their drink, you hear a voice you’d assumed you’d never hear again come from behind you.  

“So...do you believe in love at first sight yet?”

You turn around so fast you’re surprised you don’t get whiplash.

There she is.

It’s definitely her. She looks a little different, her hair a little longer. But it’s definitely her. That smile is hers.

You grin back at her.

“Go out and come back in and i’ll tell you.”)

#yelena belova x reader

[somnambulants]

Laryngitis

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Nat’s a protective girlfriend and you may or may not be sick

A/N: I somehow just realized that since yesterday was Monday, by my unofficial posting schedule, I was supposed to post something yesterday. Sorry for missing it, but I hope you guys enjoy this :)

Keep reading

#THIS IS ADORABLE #fic recs

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hello can I ask Natasha x Reader,reader comes home to Natasha and their kid trying to dance ballet?

“Oh no! --” 

Normally hearing those words would have you panicking as soon as you heard them but as you turn the key in the front door and let it swing open, you can hear the barely suppressed laughter in Natasha’s voice from the other room.

You relax completely as you hear the subsequent giggling of your daughter follow her words. 

Clearly nothing to worry about. 

“Up we get!” Natasha’s voice continues. “Good girl!”

Hanging your keys on the hook next to the door, you turn the corner and find your wife and your daughter in the kitchen, dancing. Natasha standing behind your almost one year old, holding her chubby little arms above her head as she twirls her around on the tiles, her legs unsteady under her as she tries to stay upright.

Not that your daughter seems to mind her own lack of co-ordination; giggling and squealing in delight as she’s spun around in her mother’s arms. She’s clearly having the time of her life.

Hanging back as subtly as you can so you don’t ruin the moment, you lean back against the kitchen wall and smile to yourself as you watch them. 

When she looks up some time later, Natasha finally spots you in the corner and gives you an equally as soft and sappy smile as you’re sure your own must be. 

She looks down at your daughter, cooing a little bit as she says, pointing in your direction: “Look who it is!”

Your daughter follows her gesture and lets out a little squeal at the site of you across the room, reaching out with her little fists, silently demanding to be picked up. 

Unable to resist her -- her eyes are so like Nat’s in both colour and in that they can get you to do anything with one look -- you obey quickly, pressing a kiss to her forehead, feeling a little overwhelmed all of a sudden at the rush of contentment that flows through you. 

You’d never, ever dared to even dream you could ever have this kind of life. A quiet, safe kind of one. Especially not after everything that had happened over the last few years. 

“Welcome home,” Natasha greets you softly, as you lean in to give her a quick kiss. 

When you pull away, you can see your thoughts reflected back at you clearly in her own eyes. The awe. The happiness. 

A big part of you both hadn’t expected to even live through all the things that had happened. 

And yet, you had. Somehow. 

And now, what you have is so much better than anything you could have ever imagined.

#Natasha Romanoff x reader

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Could you write protective!nat x r? I’m a sucker for r getting hurt on a mission, but I know you’ve already done that. Maybe r is in training w natasha as her trainer, and they go on what’s supposed to be an easy first mission for r but it turns out their intel is completely wrong. Even though r is in over her head, she saves nat’s life and gets hurt. Lots of guilty and protective nat and the confessing of feelings

with a safety pin

word count: 1.3K

“It was wrong – the….they… wrong, we’re outnumbered–”

The words come out jumbled, crackling in your earpiece as Wanda yells into her own from her position. You scan the field in front of you, but you can’t see her.

She's right though. You’re definitely outnumbered.

Keep reading

#thank you!! #nice things

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I’m real? I’m gotdamn alive?

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Can I take back my undercover!nat x reader request please? I'm sorry 🙁

sure thing! i'm just going to ask that you don't send me anymore requests in the future though because i was actually about half way through this one

#idk if i should be offended by this or not but okay haha

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hello I just want to say I love your stories💖💖

would it be ok if I request a natasha/reader where yelena and reader are always doing very dumb and dangerous things together and Nat’s slowly going insane?thank u💖

something else

word count: 345

Natasha is quickly beginning to realise she should have been worried about introducing you to Yelena. Not because you didn’t get along, as she’d originally feared, but because you did get along.

A little too well.

She should have known that this was a bad idea. Should have known that agreeing to go anywhere with the either of you would end in disaster.

And yet, here she is: hiking in the middle of nowhere with the both of you.

“--Guys! Guys! Should I jump?”

Groaning quietly to herself, already having a sinking feeling about where this is going, Natasha looks up and finds her sister on the edge of the cliff face they’d all just been scaling.

You and her were at the bottom already and she’d thought Yelena was just behind you both. Clearly she’d been wrong.

It’s not extremely high, but high enough that if someone fell the wrong way, it wouldn’t be pretty and that jumping from it would be a death wish in itself, even for an assassin.

Hands on her hips, Natasha glares up at her. “No.”

“Yes!” You call over her at the exact same time, completely oblivious as she turns her glare on you. “Do a flip!”

Twisting so she can put an arm around you, Natasha covers your mouth with one of her hands, pulling you back against her with the other so you can’t squirm away and continue to encourage her.

“Do not ‘do a flip’, Yelena,” she growls up at her. “Just get down from there. Now.”

Yelena’s voice is quiet as she grumbles under her breath, muttering to herself. Still, she obeys, scaling back down the cliff face and landing back next to them soundlessly. “Such a killjoy.”

Your own voice is muffled behind the hand Natasha still has clasped over your mouth but it doesn’t take a genius to work out what “Imggh” means.

The look on your face confirms it; your disgruntled expression very clearly saying: yeah. what a kill joy.

#natasha romanoff x reader #yelena belova

[somnambulants]

see where you’ve been

summary: Natasha is a tease and she likes to see you flustered. 18+ word count: 1.6K.

Spending time with Natasha is the best and worst thing in the entire world. 

The best because she’s the single most interesting person you’ve ever met and any time you spend in her presence feels like the ultimate gift. 

(You may be slightly biased, considering your overwhelmingly large and borderline schoolgirl-esque crush on her but that was another matter entirely and one you’d firmly decided you were not going to be addressing any time soon)

But, while you coveted every second spent with her like a kid would covet candy, it could also be the worst at certain times. 

Times like now.

With her pressed up so close to you that there’s not not even an inch of space between you.

Usually you’d be face down on the mat as she dug a knee into your spine by now. 

This is the first time you’ve been able to pin her down and it was almost entirely by accident.

So it’s probably not surprising that you freeze up but it doesn’t make it any less mortifying.

“Okay good….You would probably make a move on the target now, though,” she teases lightly after a second of you just gaping down at her. “Not just grope them.”

Letting her go, you swallow roughly, heat crawling up your neck as you realise your hands are on her chest. God. “R-right. Sorry.”

She winks at you playfully. “Not that I mind.”

You squeak, lips moving soundlessly as you try desperately to think of something to say and come up empty.

The only other occupant of the room -- thank god, you don’t know what you’d do if all the avengers had witnessed this -- Clint makes no attempt to hide his snicker as he does a set of pull-ups in the corner. 

As you scramble off her, she gives you a small, slightly amused smile and accepts the hand you hold out to help her up.

You make your excuses and book it out of there the second trainings over.

And If you take a longer than normal shower that night, definitely not doing what you’d normally do in the shower well, then, no one else has to know about it but you. 

Still, you know you’re going to have a hard time meeting Natasha’s eyes tomorrow. 

--

And you definitely do. Have a hard time meeting her eyes, that is.

You don’t know how but you somehow make it through your whole workout without once looking her in the eyes.

If you had looked though, you would have seen the speculative, knowing look in her eyes as she watched you fumble your way through training.

And then throughout the rest of the week, too.

And the week after that too.

Of course, you’re no expert in body language, but if you had just looked properly, you would have clearly been able to tell that she was planning something. 

And something devious, at that.

--

The universe hates you. So hates you. Thats all you can think.

You really must have accumulated some major karma to have deserved this.

It’s like Natasha’s taken your normal workouts and upped them by three hundred in their intensity. 

You’d thought you’d been a pretty decent fighter before this but you’re quickly realising she’s been going easy on you this entire time. 

And it’s also like she knows how much her touch affects you because all of a sudden she’s always touching you. 

Every-time she takes you down, her hands are on you. Lingering.

Every. single. time. 

You’ve had so many cold showers over the last month, you’re surprised you haven’t picked up hypothermia. 

In short, as time passes it just gets worse and worse until eventually you’re just a human ball of tension.

Like an elastic band that’s been pulled too far.

And even though you don’t realise it yet, it’s about to snap.

--

You yelp as she throws you down again, shoving you onto the floor and leaning down, pinning you there so you’re forced to just look straight up at her.

No matter how hard you struggle, she’s firm, holding you down, and pressing her knee against your stomach as she leans in closer. 

Your heart picks up even more, rabbit fast.

“I thought I taught you better than that,” she teases you, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up as you feel her lips brush slightly against the curve of your ear.

You then let out an audible squeak as she lets you go, pulling away with this look on her face you can’t quite decipher.

You must imagine it but for a second you swear that as she goes to move off you, she grinds her hips down against your own ever so slightly. 

And all of a sudden, all you can think about is her doing that. All the time. Sans the workout gear she’s currently wearing and on a much nicer, softer surface.

Like a bed.

She’s going to be the death of you. You just know it. 

You feel flushed, trembling a little. If you looked at yourself in the mirror right now you’re sure you wouldn't even be able to see your irises from how dilated your pupils must be.

There are times you swear she must know how she affects you. She’s literally trained to pick up on every single thing; there’s no way she couldn’t see your pathetically obvious attraction to her.

Sometimes you’ve thought that maybe she’s just being nice and politely ignoring it, others you’re not so sure.

Other times you think she knows and she likes it.

“Damn,” Natasha is chuckling, taunting you as she throws you down again less than five minutes later, her knees on either side of your waist as she holds you down, her eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re really off your game today, aren’t you?”

The elastic band snaps.

Looking up at her infuriatingly attractive face as she hovers on top of you, victorious smirk on her lips -- god, it’s so attractive, she’s so attractive -- you just stop ...thinking. 

You crash your lips to hers before you can stop yourself. 

Surprisingly you don’t get punched in the face. No. What happens is much weirder. 

She’s kissing you back.

"Finally,” she breathes against your lips. She’s smirking as she says it. You can feel it. 

Why is she smirking?

What she says is confusing enough that it sticks in your head, even with the confused state of mess that your own mind is right now. 

“I -- what?” 

Natasha jerks your head toward her, pulling you into her as she kisses you again, more roughly this time.

“It took you long enough,” she pants, pulling away to breathe and ripping your shirt off you. She pulls it over your head and throws it on the floor. “I’m a little insulted, actually.”

You stare at her, hands freezing where you’d been fumbling with the zip on her jeans. “You...knew?”

“Obviously.” Natasha smirks down at you as you dig your nails into the flesh of her hips harder in response to her mocking tone. “You’re kind of slow, you know that?”

She lets out a surprised sound as you abruptly flip your positions. 

Unconsciously, you must have picked something other than frustration from all these practices because she looks genuinely taken aback with you hovering over her all of a sudden. 

“You could’ve said something.”

The look on her face fades away into amusement at your words. She hums a little. “I could’ve. But watching you squirm was more fun.”

With a growl, you pull back a little, forcing yourself between her thighs that she gladly parts for you, wrapping them around your waist loosely as you settle your hands on her hips, jerking her towards you as you kiss her again, nails digging into her skin.

This is where what little control you have ends.

In the next breath, she’s manoeuvred you both so that youre now flat on your back beneath her, gazing up at her as she looks down at you, chest heaving a little.

Not even bothering to pull your panties down, she just shoves them to the side as she enters you quickly with one, then two fingers.

You inhale sharply and then whine out loud as she removes her fingers completely after a couple of thrusts, snickering at your clear disappointment.

She brings them up to her mouth and you watch as she laves them with her tongue before pulling them out with a pop, moaning quietly to herself.

“Nat,” you plead, breathing heavily. “Please.”

Natasha smirks. “Well since you asked so nicely.”

Your hips buck up against her as she enters you again. Rougher than before.

With her free hand, she presses down on your throat ever so slightly: not enough that you can’t breathe but enough that it’s harder for you to suck air in between your moans.

“Oh my god,” you pant heavily, your eyes rolling back a little as you adjust to her pace, which is sharp and unrelenting and already dangerously close making you fall apart with the first few thrusts.

Her hand on your throat tightens ever so slightly as you close your eyes.

“Look at me,” she demands. “Look at me or I’ll stop.”

Struggling to obey, you train your suddenly blurry vision on her face and watch as Natasha’s lips curl in a slow, satisfied grin in response.

“Good.”

#natasha romanoff x reader

[somnambulants]

this life takes a toll

summary: Yelena visits Natasha’s grave every week. This is the first time you’ve gone with her.  word count: 800 warning: includes spoilers for black widow below the cut! 

It’s something Yelena does like clockwork, every week at the same time on the same day down to the very second. She takes the same flowers and walks the same route –just because she can, because she doesn’t have to hide anymore and doesn’t have to wonder if anyone’s following her. 

When she tells you that, your heart pangs a little at the look on her face when she says it. Like that was something she never thought she’d have. 

Keep reading

#omg thank you this is so nice #nice things

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Me watching anything

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Florence Pugh as Yelena Belova  Black WIdow dir Cate Shortland

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my blog will remain free you all just have to tell me ur in love with me everyday

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Do you acpect angst requests that don’t have a happy ending? (Just wondering) hope you have a good night or day

ngl this is probably the one thing I won’t write! I’m too much of a baby to read other peoples fics with unhappy endings let alone write my own lmao sorry bby!

Hope have a good day too 💛

#I do however love a good angst with a happy ending fic and would be 100% happy to write that for you if you have a request in mind!

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fingers crossed, knees weak

summary: Natasha doesn’t seem to like you very much after you join the avengers. That changes after you have a particularly bad day.  word count: 1K 

You’d known long before you’d even met Natasha that she was beautiful; seeing all the news footage and photos in the newspapers of her and the avengers before you’d even joined the team.

One thing you don’t expect about her though, is for her to also secretly be a little bit of a softie.

Now this is something you don’t find out immediately.

In fact, when you meet for the first time after joining the avengers, she’s pretty closed off, giving you a tight-lipped smile before she makes an excuse to leave the room and you barely see her for your first few weeks on the team.

It’s a little bit of a kick to the gut but you get it. She didn’t trust you yet.

You’re not going to lie though, you’d kind of, absolutely, been the most excited about working with Natasha when you’d joined the avengers – what wasn’t badass about being the only woman on a team full of superheroes for so long? – so while you get her behaviour, it still stings a little that she clearly has no interest in even giving you a chance.

Because of this, you don’t really start to get to know her until about two months into your new job.

–

You’re having a bad day today.

A really bad day.

The thing they don’t tell you when you sign the contract to become an avenger is that sometimes you need to make really hard decisions. And that sometimes people are going to die because of those decisions.

Maybe it’s common sense and you should have been expecting this to happen at some point but it still doesn’t make you feel better when three civilians die because of your actions, even if it was the right call.

As soon as you get back from the mission and you’re off the jet, you book it away from the rest of the team, not wanting them to think you’re the kind of person who falls apart every-time something doesn’t go to plan.

You don’t want to look weak.

And you especially don’t want Natasha to see you as that. You feel like you’re already on thin ice with her as it is.

“Everything okay?” you hear Natasha’s voice behind you before you can get more than a meter away and have to resist the urge to groan.

Of course.

Of course this would be the one time she actually wants to talk to you. Forcing a weak smile as you turn around, you also frantically wipe your eyes even though you know the second she looks at your face, she’ll be able to tell you’re trying not to cry.

“Yeah,” you answer, unconvincingly. Something that is only reinforced by the way Natasha raises her eyebrow at you. “Just..yeah. I’m fine.. Thanks.”

She’s silent for a minute, watching you with an unreadable look on her face. You’re just starting to shift around, a little uncomfortable under her gaze, when she pulls her keys out of her pocket and tilts her head, indicating you should follow her as she turns around.

“You like frozen yoghurt?”

You frown, a little puzzled, as you follow her. “Sure?”

“Great.”

Twenty minutes later, to your amazement, you’re sitting at a table across from one another in a pastel-pink yoghurt shop on the other side of town and licking frozen yoghurt off plastic spoons.

It’s almost an awkward silence between the both of you for a while, enough that the things you’d been trying not to think about creep up on you and start to run through your mind again like a trainwreck you just can’t look away from.

Abruptly, Natasha clears her throat. “It’ll get easier,” she offers, somehow knowing where your mind had wandered. You look at her, probably too hopefully.

“Will it?”

She huffs a little, looking back down at her yoghurt as she admits: “Well… No. I was trying to make you feel better.”

You let out quiet laugh at how bluntly honest she is. “Well thanks. For trying I guess.”

You both share a little smile, less awkward than before, before falling silent again, eating your frozen yoghurt.

Because of the late hour, the shop is mostly deserted but every now and then a few customers come in, not seeming to recognise either of you tucked away into the corner.

Well, not until a little girl enters with her parents. When her eyes land on Natasha, a squeal immediately breaks free from her lips and she approaches your table, wide eyed as she stares up at Natasha with clear hero worship in her gaze.

“You’re my favorite avenger,” she says, a little shyly but gaining momentum at the way Natasha smiles at her words, leaning in to hear her better. “You’re so much cooler than the rest of them.”

“You’re right,” Natasha nods sagely, tilting her chin in your direction. “I definitely am cooler than them. Especially this one.”

You let out a pretend grumble of protest but know the giant smile on your face must betray you.

In all of that, you don’t fail to notice the way Natasha’s looking at the little girl as she talks to her. Her face open and soft in a way you’ve never seen it before.

It’s kind of …adorable.

After the little girl has been collected by her harried parents, who shoot you both looks of apology as they usher her away, Natasha looks up and catches you staring at her before you can look away.

She frowns at you. You know you must have a goofy look on your face but you can’t help it.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you say, grinning. First, she’d bought you frozen yoghurt just because you’d had a bad day, then she’d patiently entertained a little girl as she’d rambled on for over ten minutes about how much she wanted to be her when she grew up. She was full of surprises. “You’re just a little bit of a softie… you know that, Romanoff?”

She grins back before her face turns a little more serious, pointing her spoon at you. “Better not tell anyone that, newbie,” she says, threateningly. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

You hide your laugh into your next spoonful of frozen yoghurt. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#natasha romanoff x reader

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tits… tiddies……… boobs even. & breasts.

#yeah

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not all cringe was created equal. some cringe is cringier than other cringe or whatever animal farm said

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