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munariplans · 2 years

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what about me? | n. romanoff

synopsis: natasha's always had you to fall back on. imperfect, flawed, and elusive as you were, you were always there for her. even until the very end.

natasha romanoff x daredevil!reader

word count: 8.6k words

warnings: angst | self-doubt and insecurities | smoking | death

masterlist

“What about me?”

A shawarma bag was tossed in your direction, the answer to your teasing question. Catching it quickly, you turned and placed it on your desk, before going back to preparing your bandages.

“You know, you should really sign up for SHIELD, with that skill of yours,” came the remark from the Black Widow, as she sauntered towards you.

“Are you making fun of my blindness, Romanoff?” You shot back, feeling her take a seat across from you. She smelled like the shawarma shop that she had just patronised with the rest of the world-saving Avengers, along with a hint of sweat and grime, with remnants of her perfume.

She snorted. “Hardly. I’m being serious, you should go for tryouts. You have reflexes and senses surpassing more than half of my seasoned recruits, doc.”

Natasha winced as your hands began travelling up her body. It was hard getting used to being touched, after all those years, even with you. She knew you found what you were looking for when a hint of a smile appeared on your features; it was her tenderest bruise.

“From a human kick? I assume from a certain Agent Barton?” You knew she was taking a breath of shock at your accuracy, “And I’m not a doctor anymore, Romanoff. Neither am I interested in being around you so much, at your organisation.”

“SHIELD isn’t just–” She got cut off with a yelp, as you began wrapping around her ribs, the bandage taut against her aching injury. “–That was intentional.”

“Sorry. I couldn’t see.” You teased.

After another few hours of Natasha wincing and cursing at you several times as you patched up her injuries, she was free. Battered and admittedly a little more sore than she was before, but at least her wounds were stitched up, her bruises treated with, and her mind a little more at ease after the battle of New York. You were her respite, more than anything else.

But as she turned to steal a bite of the shawarma that she had bought for you, she caught you leaning against the doorframe, face in contemplation.

You spoke before she could. “Stop coming back. I mean it. I may accidentally hurt you one day.”

“You know I trust no one else with my body.”

“Well, you should,” you realised it had come across as insensitive, as Natasha shifted uncomfortably, so you added, “Someone who isn’t a surgeon that has been blinded by some radioactive substance and lost her medical licence…permanently.”

“And someone who isn’t practising medicine illegally, still, to treat children and families who can’t afford medical expenses, along with the occasional injured Avenger.” Natasha quipped. You snatched back the shawarma from her.

“The children only come with scraped knees, sprained wrists, sometimes the occasional head laceration. You, on the other hand,” Natasha’s breath hitched as you approached, your face inches from hers, “I’m afraid of the day I can’t fix you beyond your broken bones and gaping wounds, Romanoff.”

As if she finally summoned the willpower to pull away, to stop herself from staring into your once light, still-beautiful, clouded eyes, and your parted lips, Natasha broke free from her trance and stepped back, shaking her head. She inhaled once, twice, before a thought hit her. It was something that she had wanted to confront you for, and seeing the stalemate that the two of you had reached again tonight, it was her perfect opportunity to counterstrike.

“There’s been reports…articles, I’m sure you’ve heard, of a masked vigilante, running around Manhattan. A similar one to the devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Except…she’s…a woman.”

“So I’ve heard.” The sound of running water broke the tension, so thick it could be cut with a knife, as you scrubbed your hands clean from the woman’s blood. Natasha noticed your composure was not shaken.

“Similar masks, similar costumes, everything. It’s almost as if they were a team. Same form of fighting, too.”

You hid a small grin facing away from her, remembering the suit maker Matt had introduced you to. Melvin truly was a sweetheart. You almost had half a heart to tell Natasha of how sweet he was, how nice he had been to the two of you, how amidst the chaos and destruction in New York over the past few years, he had been one of the best the city had to offer.

But you didn’t. Instead, you turned around, wiping your hands. “Is there something you wanted to tell me, Romanoff?”

She only sighed. “I wished you would open up to me as much as I opened up to you, that’s all.”

–

“What do you know about The Winter Soldier?”

The sting from your suturing suddenly stopped, and even though Natasha could not get a look at you from her angle, she knew she had caught you off-guard.

On your end, memories flashed of the night you and Matt had cornered one of HYDRA’s most powerful assassins, on a stupid mission from Stick that only promised trouble. Matt had gotten lucky; a mere slash across the abdomen, while you suffered a bullet straight to your head from his machine gun. Had it not been for the helmet, you would not have been able to be sitting there, stitching up the woman before you, again.

That was also the particular encounter that led to Natasha’s discovery of your…alter-ego. In the dead of the night, as she was nearly on the brink of death from her injuries herself (and still refusing to be handled by any doctor from SHIELD grounds), she had broken into your apartment, to find Matt laying you on your sofa, your forehead bleeding out so much blood that she nearly got nauseous.

But you were there; in your red suit mirroring Matt’s, your helmet dented in with a bullet casing still stuck to it, and Natasha had confirmed her suspicions of who the superhero protecting Manhattan was. Queen’s had that swinging spiderkid, Hell’s Kitchen had its own devil, and you were Manhattan’s.

“I’ll stop treating you, and report you to SHIELD, if you ever tell anyone about this,” you still managed to say upon her entry, before passing out from the blood loss that night.

Coming back from your thoughts, you continued your treatment on the open flesh. “Nothing.”

“You always say–”

“We work for very different organisations, and are at very different skill levels, Romanoff. The men I take down, and the men you do, are nothing alike. So no, I don’t know anything about this Winter Soldier you are talking about.” I have heightened senses and training like no other from the Chaste, but in the end, I am only human, Nat. You had a serum literally injected into you since you were a child.

“Did Murdock tell you to say that?” Natasha winced when she tried to get up to look at you, but you pushed her back down, “He told you to shortchange yourself, to keep on hiding yourself from me, from the world? I’ve seen you, known you, and you are so much more than what you make yourself out to be.”

Her tone had gotten accusatory, almost as if she had a bone to pick with Matt. She always seemed to stiffen up when he was around. Her heartbeat picked up in bursts of anger when he touched you even for the slightest bit, she refused to let him speak alone to you whenever she was around, hell, she even went to the extent of pulling you away when you were treating her and he snuck in once.

You knew better. “He didn’t tell me to say that. I know my limits, is all. And I know I am no match for a man with a cybernetic arm.”

Then, when the Widow went silent with the double meaning of your previous sentence, you continued, “Matt’s just a friend. I’ve known him since…a long time ago, and he will always be a friend. In fact, he’s like my elder brother, Romanoff. And you shouldn’t be jealous of him when you’ve already got who you want in your sights.”

It was not the compromising position, or the rawness in her throat that made her feel vulnerable. Neither was it the racing of her heart. No, that vulnerability brimmed from hope. “And who is that?”

“Bruce Banner.” You replied matter-of-factly.

The Black Widow did not visit you for close to six months after those two words were uttered.

–

Natasha Romanoff only came back to you after all those months with an invite. She waited for you to slowly read the braille, you to shake your head disapprovingly, before the smile that she had craved to see for so long began to appear. Some nights, it was only that smile, and her quiet determination to one day find the courage to confess to you, that kept her going.

“You bringing me to a party, Romanoff?”

“When was the last time you attended one, doctor?” She took your welcome stance as an invitation, no matter how guilty she had felt for ignoring you the last few months. Natasha noticed that she was willing to accept even scraps, the bare minimum, of your hospitality towards her, if it meant that she could be close to you again. Your body language showed that she was not totally forgiven, but it was still a relief that she had returned. If Natasha chose to kid herself, it would also mean that you missed her.

“Not since med school. Surgeons didn’t have lives, and now, I’m…like this.” You bit back a hint of bitterness, and all of a sudden, your fears and doubts returned. The years of insecurity, the walls you had built around yourself after the accident, the people you had cut off, all came rushing back. A party, who were you to enjoy a party?

Natasha let out a grin, moving to seat the both of you and to pour a cup of coffee for herself from your kettle. “I’ll help you pick out a dress, don’t worry. Oh, and there’ll be a chauffeur picking us up, so you don't have to worry about going as an Avenger’s plus-one to a super fancy party thrown by Tony Stark. I can already feel you recoiling at the extravagance of it all–”

The woman stopped her rambling when the air became riddled with tension again. She was dreading to turn around to have her hopes and ambitions crushed. But she had to anyway. Upon the look on your face, she let out a, “Oh come on, please?”

“I’m sorry, Romanoff. It’s not you.”

“You’ve done so much for me. You’ve been everything to me, the only reason I survive all these crazy missions. I can’t show you off for one night? To thank you? To introduce you as–”

“If you want to thank me, you can swing by, without injuries, sometimes. Not like this.”

You turned to hold the door for her, but Natasha decided that for once, just once, she needed to stop caring so much about being considerate. She needed to make a move before you could withdraw yourself again. “But you’ll attend all of Matt’s fancy lawyer parties, yeah? With Foggy, with Karen, all of them? On him like his arm candy, fooling everyone when you won’t even let anyone try to get close to you aside from him! You’ll dress up, look like the most gorgeous woman there is to walk this planet, socialise with sleazy attorneys, but you won’t even go to one party with me and my friends?”

The grip on the handle tightened. “You know I was there to scope out Fisk’s minions.”

“And sleeping with them to find out information, too?” you cringed, already wanting the conversation to end, “God, if you hated me and wanted to avoid me, you could’ve just said so!”

It was the first time in a long while Natasha Romanoff lost her composure. She could not say she was proud of it, but with you, she felt like she had no control over any of her emotions.

At least, she thought, it all paid off when you closed the door again and muttered, “I don’t hate you. And I’m sorry. I’ll go to your stupid party with you.”

–

You knew it was a mistake only later on, when you were sat at the bar in front of a bartending Natasha, the fourth Old Fashioned for the night drumming through your veins. Sam Wilson had cracked a few jokes that made you let out hints of laughter over the night, under Natasha’s watchful eye, before he felt a little intimidated by her glares and moved away to Steve again. Tony Stark had pitched you the idea of a technologically advanced walking stick that could help day-to-day life easier for people like you, to which Natasha had chuckled teasingly, mentioning a she wouldn't need it, which proved to hurt his feelings more than expected, as he sauntered off shortly after. The final one who tried to even come within the bubble she had set for you and her was Steve Rogers, but with an annoyed tsk after he tried introducing you to a friend, he too gave up.

“Are you intentionally making me not likeable to them, Romanoff?” You swallowed the last of your drink, but as she moved to pour another, you pulled the glass away and her face closer to yours.

You were drunk, Natasha had to keep reminding herself, even as she smelled the alcohol on your lips and still thought they were the most kissable on Earth. Her hand shook slightly as she held your elbow, your thumb grazing over her features to make out some sort of reply.

“I thought you said you didn't like people.” She breathed, hyper-aware that someone was coming up to the both of you.

“That doesn’t mean I’m a fucking psychopath, Romanoff. I can entertain, I just choose not to.” It stung more than it should, so Natasha broke the contact and went back to pour herself a shot of vodka before she dared speak with you again.

Finally, Banner arrived. The one you were most dreading to meet, the one Natasha deathly hoped didn’t come. It didn’t help that from the conversations around the room, he seemed actually nice to everyone.

You lowered your head as he came to the bar, pretending to be busy with something on your glass.

“How’d a nice girl like you end up working in a dump like this?” You could scoff at his introduction to Natasha.

“Fella done me wrong.” You could feel her eyes on you as she spat out the words.

And the flirting began. Banner continued with a remark on her taste in men, she retaliated, but what hit the nail in the coffin for you was her, “The fact is he’s not like anybody I’ve ever known.”

Your glass hit the table harder than it should, as the both of them suddenly turned, acting as if you could not hear their racing heartbeats, feel Banner’s goofy grin, got dizzy with Natasha’s lilting voice. The whiskey in your system suddenly didn’t feel so warm anymore, as you reached into your purse for something.

“Sorry, needed a smoke break,” you brandished the pack to Banner, “Drinks, you know.”

“I know,” he smiled at you, offering a hand, before realising, and awkwardly retracting it, but not before you shook it firmly to save him the embarrassment. “I’m Bruce, and you are?” “Just a nobody,” you smiled back, before slipping away into the balcony.

Halfway through your third cigarette, you smelled her perfume before she could even exit the glass doors. You sighed, you had hoped she would stay in there and save you the trouble of getting upset all over again.

She stood more than a safe distance away from you, as if…afraid. Of what you would say, of what you would do.

So you took it as an invitation to initiate. “You brought me here, by cussing me out and accusing me of things I am not, just to openly flirt with Banner and not allow me to even look in the direction of anyone else. Might as well have just fucked him on the bar counter, Romanoff.”

Natasha swallowed the insult, and came one step closer. “Whatever I was saying to Bruce, I…I–”

“...Didn’t mean?” You snorted, moving on to your next cigarette, “Yeah, right. No one says that kind of shit unless they mean it. And you can’t hide these things from me. You forget I don’t have to see people to be able to read them like an open book. My senses are both my blessings and curses.”

“I said those things to you, remember? The exact words. Way before SHIELD, before the Avengers, before Bruce. And you…you thought I was lying. So what makes you think it was genuine for him?”

“So you’re trying to tell me that you flirt with everyone and that I, too, meant nothing? Is that what you are saying, Romanoff?” When she said nothing, merely clenching her fists in anger and allowing tears to brim in her eyes, you proceeded with, “Could’ve just said a fuck you. Saved you a lot of trouble.”

“If you could just get your head out of your self-deprecating, wallowing, realm of excuses for yourself, you would have known that I was talking about you! All the words I said, all the words I meant, were for you!” She suddenly screamed, approaching you hard and fast. Your senses kicked in to almost retract, to guard yourself, but you forced them to remain still. “You are the one I want! The only one I have ever wanted! And you would’ve noticed that I was looking at you all while I was talking to Bruce, that you were the ‘guy’ I had to disguise! All because I was afraid you were so insecure with yourself that you wouldn’t let anyone know who you were, that you wouldn’t want anyone to know that I loved you.”

If Natasha was being honest, there was not a single outcome out of her outburst that she could confidently predict for. All she knew then, before she began, was that she needed to finally get it out. That Bruce had been right; she deserved a win, and so did you. That she needed to finally tell you how she felt.

The night air was cold again, the liquid courage and adrenaline no longer providing a layer of insulation for her. She was back to Natalia again. Vulnerable, weak, Natalia. It was a feeling she despised so much, one she avoided for so many years of her life, only to be returned to when confronted with her feelings for you. She hoped then, that this confession would allow her to never return to it.

But you only stubbed out the rest of your cigarette, listened to her inhale heavy breaths, and slung your purse over your shoulder again. Brushing past her, ignoring her complete bewilderment, you leaned in and muttered, “Fuck you too, Romanoff.”

–

“I need you. I’m sorry.” Natasha pleaded, a mere few days after the night of Tony Stark’s party. You had just slipped in through the window of your apartment’s bedroom, nursing a broken wrist from an attacker managing to turn your batons against you, and there the Widow was. You should have known, there was no getting rid of her, no matter how much you wanted, and at the same time, did not.

Hiding your wrist away from her, you could only sigh. “I can’t…I can’t fix you tonight. My hand’s fucked.”

Suddenly, her arms were around your neck, her body pressed so close against yours, head on your shoulder. You were so surprised by the sudden embrace that you failed to register that this was the first time Natasha was hugging you, much less that she was sobbing into your shoulder.

Naturally, you patted her back sympathetically, almost awkwardly. But what came before your question already clarified any doubts you had that she might not be genuine. “There was this kid…a Sokovian twin. She fucked with us, all of us, with our heads. A-And,” Natasha stopped to bury herself deeper into you, “She brought me back to the Red Room.”

She felt you take a deep breath, before your arms finally wrapped back around her waist, your head nuzzled atop hers comfortingly, and you muttering, “Shh, it’s okay. It will all be okay.”

“I didn’t know who else I could go to, who else I could trust with my history and not run. O-Only you didn’t. And I know, you probably hate me right now, because–”

“I could never hate you, Natasha.”

Natasha blinked. It was the first time you had ever called her anything other than Romanoff.

Lifting her head to meet yours, you rubbed your thumb over her tear-stained cheeks, giving her a comforting smile. “And I’m not running. Not from your past, not from you.”

“I am damaged. You know that better than anyone.”

Your chuckle felt like music to her ears. “If you’re damaged, what does that make me? God, Natasha, we all have our demons. I mean, I was a surgeon, for heaven’s sake. A brilliant, award-winning, miracle-worker surgeon. People revered me, I was haughty and arrogant, and I thought I was unstoppable. And then this patient came in, bathed in radioactive substances of every possible kind you could imagine one day, and his heart was giving out. I couldn’t just stand there. I had to risk it; I had to save him, even if it costed me…everything.

And now, I’m just a blind, masked vigilante running around this city like I owe something to it, like it deserves my protection when all it has handled me is bitterness and pain. But there is still beauty. There is still beauty, when the children from the homeless shelter down the street smile again after bouts of illness plaguing them for months have been healed, when the older gentleman four blocks from here has an easier time walking after his knees have received therapy and care, even when the construction workers from the Chrysler Building walk in with sprained wrists and ankles, and walk out feeling so much better with their injuries straightened out. With all of its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, there is still beauty, even in this city, Natasha.

But most of all, there is still beauty right in front of me. I see the beauty in this city, reflected in you. I see home, comfort, and so much bravery in you. Your past doesn't make you damaged, in fact, they only make you so much more beautiful. And I wish you could just see it like I do; because no one else is as fucked up, as damaged as us. But no one else will also be able to see beauty like us.”

Her own fingers, shaking and cold then, traced the outline of your lips, which had been bruised and bleeding from a fight earlier. But they felt like ice on fire, as she leaned in closer and closer, asking, begging for permission.

She was mere inches away from you, like so many times before. Only this time, she was tired of waiting, tired of asking, and begging, like she always did.

Her lips met yours, and everything then felt like the beginning of something new.

“Let me love you, beauty and broken dreams, damage and perfection, all at once. Let me love you, please, please, please.”

–

In the aftermath of Ultron, Natasha mourned Bruce in your presence. Like always, it was in the comfort of your apartment, the only place Natasha felt safe on Earth, where she laid her walls down. She was no longer Black Widow in those moments, no, she was only Natasha Romanoff. She was always Natasha Romanoff to you, and you were never Daredevil with her.

Nursing the bottle of wine, her tears fell onto the shoulder she was leaning on. “Do you really think he’s dead?” You did not know what to say without sounding jealous, or selfish. She was grieving her friend, her partner in the Avengers, her closest confidant away from you. It was not right that you felt a bitter resentment for her mourning him.

Yet, when she readjusted herself against you, all that you could remember was that she was also grieving her almost-lover. And that snapped something within you. “It wouldn’t matter either way, to me. Saves a whole lot of trouble for me and Matt if he got angry in the middle of New York.”

Perhaps it had been the way you phrased your words. Perhaps it had been the insensitivity of it all. Perhaps you let the surgeon-ego that you tried so hard to drop come surging back. Perhaps it had even been the double whammy of mentioning Matt to her. All that you knew then was she moved to throw her wine at you, cussing you out like she never had before, angry tears mixing with her screams. You could have avoided the red in your white shirt and brand new couch, you anticipated her movements way before she did, but you decided not to. Perhaps you deserved it, after all.

And you did not deserve someone like Natasha.

–

A few years after Natasha, you met Stephen Strange. Or rather, you managed to meet the new Stephen Strange. It was at a networking event, about a year after his accident, and Stephen looked…normal. He looked better even, with white streaks in his hair and his hands perfectly mobile despite their surgery scars.

Christine had informed you, of course, when he first got into his accident, and that there was nothing the hospital could do to save his hands. It reminded you of years before, when you got into yours, and how Christine refused to cut ties with you even after you left the medical field. Sometimes you wondered if you really deserved friends like her, and Matt, and people who refused to give up on you when you had given up on yourself.

But Christine was not there that night. And as Stephen started sharing more and more about finding himself, and losing her, you found yourself finally beginning to find someone interesting for the night. There was a mutual understanding of wasted brilliance, regrets about the past, even the trauma and pain from both your accidents, and through it all, Stephen showed empathy and sensitivity you had not known from Stephen Strange the neurosurgeon.

That night, you knew you were taking a risk, opening up yourself to someone after Natasha and Matt. But it was Stephen, and Stephen was the breath of fresh air you desperately needed then. He let you in that he was the Sorcerer Supreme, you let him in that you were Daredevil, and you no longer felt like a dirty secret like you were to Natasha.

One thing led to another, and you found yourself soon setting up your apartment for a celebration of your first anniversary with him. The candles were lit, his favourite meal was prepared, and all that was missing was the shimmery orange portal he was due to open once he was done at the Sanctum. That, and the incessant, sudden ringing of your doorbell.

“Calvin, I remember telling you last week that I am unavailable for our–” You stopped in your tracks. It was not Calvin, the boy with Fibromyalgia from Queens that you treated weekly. No, you could recognise the person from behind the door anywhere, even if it had been years since you last met her.

“It’s me.”

“I know.” You were frozen; the ringing in your ears from painful realisation. There was someone else behind the door, an unfamiliar heartbeat. It prompted you to reach for your baton, but Natasha knew you.

“It’s my sister. Can we come in, please?”

The door unlocked. You pulled them both in, smelling of grime and soot and old blood, eager to avoid any incidents with the neighbours.

“You never told me you guys have been together for a year, Natasha,” the other woman pointed out, and both you and Natasha drew your attention to the bunting against the living room wall. Fuck, Natasha heard you mutter.

“You guys can’t be here,” you quickly clarified, moving to block the bunting. Natasha’s face was burning red, you knew. “Please, leave.”

“You said your girlfriend–” Natasha’s sister began, to which the woman snapped her head towards.

“–She’s not my girlfriend!”

“Or the love of your life, whatever,” you were getting more confused by the second, “Can be trusted. You said we’d be okay here.”

“I feel the need to interrupt,” you began, “But what is going on here? You,” you turned to Natasha, but she kept her face towards her sister, “You left me. We were done, you disappeared for years, and now you come back in here, bringing what I assume is your fugitive sister as well, saying my apartment is a safehouse? You are a wanted fugitive, especially here in New York, what made you think–”

“Because I have nowhere else to go.” You paused at the fragility of her voice. It sounded like it was going to break any second, as she leaned against your kitchen counter, head turned upwards to stop tears from appearing. “Because I have nowhere, and no one left. And we almost got killed in Budapest just a few days ago, we’ve barely had enough food and water, and we’re so tired. The Avengers are split into two, Steve is nowhere to be found, you are all I have left.”

She continued, “We’ll be gone by tomorrow morning. Just please…for tonight, let us sleep here. I know you hate me and probably wish you never met me, and that you think I treat your place like a bed and breakfast but…” Natasha did not know why the words but the reason I keep coming back is because I can never seem to stop loving you were stuck in her throat.

She never got to finish her sentence anyway. Because in the next second, the aforementioned shimmery portal had materialised, and Stephen had walked through. Upon witnessing the scene before him, he tried very hard to mask his surprise at Natasha (whose face had not been on the forefront of welcoming news lately), as he stood protectively in front of you.

Oh. If the small box he had been carrying had not been a dead giveaway, the way the man in front of her held your hand in reassurance and protection, informed Natasha that her heartbreak was imminent. It was who the Happy First Anniversary had been for. Admittedly, it was only fair. But also, fairness did not account for her heart physically hurting so much, then.

“Sweetheart,” Natasha clenched her fists at the term of endearment from Stephen, “Unless my memory is playing tricks on me, I do not recall hiring fugitives for our anniversary entertainment tonight.”

–

In the end, as you snuck into the hotel room you had booked for her and Yelena that night, after a few gruelling hours of convincing Stephen to not turn them in, Natasha did not have the heart to tell you why she visited you after all.

You had brought in your usual medical kit, and cheeseburgers, as Yelena had requested, for both of them. When her sister was in the bathroom, though, you snuck Natasha a pack of cigarettes with her favourite chocolate bar. Her heart squeezed at the fact that you remembered.

When Yelena knocked out into the comfort of the first bed she had in days later on, you spent a few minutes in silence as Natasha watched her sister, equally in as many bandages as she. You were dressing the last of her wounds when she spoke. “Does he treat you well?”

Natasha heard a sigh from below, as she looked down at you between her knees. “Yes, Romanoff. He treats me well.”

“Good,” she swallowed the lump in her throat, “I’m happy for you. And I’m sorry we ruined your anniversary.”

“You always manage to come into my life in the most unexpected times,” you snickered, and before the string of apologies she was about to mumble, “But you are never unwelcome to me. You should know that.”

Natasha smiled. There it was, the warmth that you always managed to brew in her. The safety of your scent, the comfort of your touch. She didn’t know how she survived so long being apart from you.

“Your ribs are still fucked.”

“He was going to propose tonight.”

You both said at the same time. Natasha’s knee immediately began bouncing in anxiety and embarrassment, and your lips parted in shock.

“He wasn’t,” you tried to chuckle to ease the tension, “Don’t be ridiculous, Romanoff.”

“I saw the box,” Natasha clarified, “And…when you guys were busy arguing, Yelena opened it. I’m sorry.”

At your expression, Natasha leaned back in defeat. “I mean congratulations, of course. I’m happy for you,” she said again, as if saying it more would help her believe in it as well, “It was a beautiful diamond too.”

You got up from underneath her. “Stephen knows that I’m not…built for long-term relationships. He knows I’m incapable of committing to forever with him.”

“Well, believe it, because it’s going to become a reality soon,” Natasha tried to joke, but one look at your face immediately made her want to retract her sentence, “Unless…you don’t want to?”

She had never seen you look so small, so vulnerable. Your head was buried in your hands, hunched over the armchair opposite hers. It looked like your world was caving in on you.

“Hey, hey…” she moved over, a hand on your back to try to soothe you, “...You okay?”

But that moment of vulnerability shattered soon when you realised where you were, and who you were with. No one can see you like this, what makes you think you are worth to be seen like this?

“I’m fine,” you jumped away from her touch, sending an arrow to Natasha’s already breaking heart. “I just…need time. Of course I want forever with someone.”

Just not with him.

–

It happened on a random Tuesday night. You had been walking home with Stephen after a dinner at Matt’s, months after the encounter with Natasha and Yelena, when the thought finalised in your head. It was only fair to him and you.

“I can’t accept your proposal, Stephen.” The air was bitingly cold, but you had insisted on walking home to clear your head instead of portalling through.

His grip on your hand tightened, but his tone remained steady. “It’s not like we’re getting married tomorrow, darling. And the ring isn’t going anywhere, you don’t have to decide tonight. You know I love you and I know you love me, so it doesn’t matter, even if it will take you a few more years to say yes.”

“No, no, that’s just it, Stephen. I can’t,” you stopped in front of him, letting go of his hand, “I can’t do this. I can’t do…forever with you. I can’t marry you.”

“Because…?”

You both knew the answer, but only Stephen was brave enough to voice it out. “Because you’re in love with someone else.”

It was the first time that you went to Natasha, instead of her coming to you. In the place that you signed off under your name for her and Steve, she received you. In the middle of the night, despite the pouring rain and the fact that the house was two hours away from the city, you came.

You came, and when Natasha opened the door, all that you could say was, “Because I’m in love with you.”

–

“You don’t have to walk so fast,” Matt wheezed from behind you, adjusting his red-tinted glasses as you deliberately moved even faster. “It’s not that embarrassing!”

“It is! And I’m late for my lecture, God, why is NYU so far away from your office?” You knew you should not have gotten drunk and crashed at Nelson and Murdock’s the previous night, which also led to some drunk confessions that Matt distinctly remembered and you wished you didn’t, but game nights with Foggy and Karen always ended as such.

“You said that you loved her, and that you would do anything for her,” Matt was controlling his second bout of laughing fits, “Even if she asked you to switch suits with her for a mission because hers was still ripped from your last…session.”

You suddenly stopped, having half a mind to hit him with your bag, but decided against it. “And you are–”

Your sentence was cut off by a low hum in the air. Matt’s back was against yours in the next second, both your senses triggered by that feeling of dread that settled in.

“Avengers’ level?” He muttered. “Definitely,” you replied, “But that doesn’t stop us from at least getting civilians to safety. We don’t want a repeat of Sokovia.”

The both of you split up as screams began ringing in the air, and you were on your way to help up a man trapped under a fallen street lamp when you felt it. You had not felt that heartbeat pumping against your ears in a while, but you could tell it apart from any.

Stephen Strange had been whizzed past by his cloak, unconscious, as something chased him.

Immediately, you utilised the batons to give chase across the buildings, but you could only get so far. Throwing one of them towards his attacker, it lodged in the back of its neck, as its attention turned towards you in fury.

“Pest!” The roar was definitely otherworldly, as Stephen's cloak noticed who had just helped them, and came swooping down to seek protection. But before you could react and draw back the baton, you missed the flying building being aimed straight towards you, separating you and Stephen once more.

Next came the crash as it collided with your still falling body, effectively trapping and pinning you to the ground as you failed to avoid it in time.

You groaned, feeling the wet squelching of blood against your helmet. “I fucking hate when they do that.”

It took Banner another few minutes to locate and drag you out, but by then, Stephen had been abducted into the giant donut in the air, and you were left behind, completely powerless and frustrated with your abilities.

“Tony was in the middle of calling Steve,” Banner managed to wheeze, watching you remove your helmet and feeling your head for the exact location where the bleeding came from, “But things happened so fast and we didn’t get a chance. Are you…still in contact with Nat?”

You found the huge gash, and groaned as Banner applied pressure on it. It hurt almost as much as the shattered ribs. “They live in a safehouse signed under my name…so, yeah, I guess.”

He grinned. “So much for being just a nobody, Daredevil.”

–

“Natasha’s going to kill me, then you,” Steve’s voice rang in and out of your ears, whispering loudly to Banner, “When she comes home and sees her like this.”

“What was I supposed to do?! The big guy wouldn’t come out! And it was a building for God’s sake, Cap. She had no way of avoiding it either!”

You rolled your eyes as you pressed the healing pack Steve still had from Tony further into your head wound, the brace against your ribs prohibiting you from simply walking away from their annoying argument.

“Yeah, well, we can’t exactly hide it either,” Steve complained.

“Hide what?” Came the voice of your girlfriend, her footsteps coming in hard and fast from the hallway.

It was you who groaned before the both of them. Just great.

When she saw the state you were in, along with Bruce and Steve in her house, the Black Widow did in fact, try to kill them in her rage.

–

“No.”

“Natasha.”

“No.”

“Natasha, be reasonable.” You took one step forward, and she took one step back.

“No!” She shook her head firmly, but her body language showed that even she was trying hard to convince herself.

“You need me out there. You need me fighting again.” She was staring at your cast, her fingers tracing the necklace you got for her nervously. The battle ensued below, Wakanda’s defences were weakening, and the woman was still refusing to let you go down to fight with her.

You managed a smirk, deciding to try a different method. “Scared I’ll beat you in battle, Romanoff?”

She snorted. “With your broken arm and ribs brace? I’m surprised you can even fit your head inside your helmet, Daredevil. You’re not going down there to fight, and that’s final.”

You fought anyway; when the battle became too overwhelming, when the Avengers were taking too many hits, and especially when you felt Natasha’s calm heartbeat begin to falter. Just wait until Matt hears about this, you thought. There was a first time for everything, including fighting aliens side by side with your angry, but thankful, girlfriend.

But high hopes lasted briefly within the team. You heard once, from one of your patients, that the Avengers never lost, no matter what happened, but right then, feeling all the heartbeats around you suddenly disappear, all the shouts and screams silenced, the smell of blood and battle suddenly gone, you knew the Avengers had lost. And what a devastating defeat it was for everyone.

You did not need to hear Natasha’s cry of horror to know that she had lost her family, once again.

–

“And I’m sorry again, about Matt,” You hated what Melvin was about to say, but could not find it in your heart to ask him to stop talking. You had just come to drop off your suit for regular maintenance, not to get another sob story about your failure to save the world, and subsequently your best friend, too.

“It’s fine, Melvin,” you managed to say, before stalking off.

Lately, all you had been hearing was Matt would’ve been proud, or Stephen would’ve wanted to be here, or even You did all you could. Like hell you did, if you did do all you could, everyone would have been there right then. Half the planet would not have blipped, and you would not have to be the unlucky few that shouldered the guilt of surviving.

When you got home later that night, Natasha was waiting for you by the dining table, the dinner she prepared cold and uneaten again. You cussed internally, forgetting once more about the date night you had promised her. Lately, it was one of the many instances that was triggering the stale state of your relationship. That, and the disappearance of almost all of yours and her family.

“Sorry,” was the only word you managed to say. In response, Natasha shook her head, sighed, and began plating the food.

You did not know when the strain exactly began, only that it was growing, to the point where it was getting insufferable. You barely came home most nights, out and about in the city beating up what was left of Manhattan’s criminals, refusing to treat more patients in fear that you would only see the faces of the people you could not save in them, and even began avoiding Natasha’s persistence to try to fix your relationship. It seemed like the blip left a larger impact on some than others.

After dinner, while you were helping Natasha with laundry, she approached uneasily again. You sighed, knowing where the conversation was leading to (if not to go on another forsaken date night, it would be about talking, actually talking, about your relationship), and tried to walk away. But she was quicker, as she blocked your path before you could retreat to the bedroom.

Deciding to get to the point before you could weasel your way out of another uncomfortable conversation, she announced, “I want to have kids.”

The air temperature suddenly began to rise. Natasha noticed the hesitation even in the way you were holding on to her towel.

“I want us…to have kids. I want more, I want a family again. And for the past five years, you have been my family.”

A family won’t solve our issues, you wanted to say, but your heart knew Natasha would never be able to handle it.

“I’m tired, Natasha, can we–”

“You can’t keep shelving our relationship aside whenever it’s convenient,” she cut you off, “You can’t keep running away, doing God-knows-what in this ruthless city in the dead of the night, just to fill the void in your heart!”

“This city, needs me, Natasha,” you bit back, equally as bitter, “You may be retired from your little Avengers club, and thank fuck that with Thanos snapping our population in half that you don’t have any Avengers-level threats, but this city…this city is starving, and never lonelier. That pushes people to do crime. I can’t give up my job because you have given up yours.”

Teary-eyed, Natasha suddenly embraced you, as if holding on for dear life. Tiredly, you held her back. It strangely felt so distant.

“A kid’s not going to fix us, Natasha.”

“Then what will?”

“Having them back.”

You had thought that was enough; that the conversation would end, and you were allowed to leave her hanging once more. But Natasha apparently had had enough.

“So you’re just going to give up on us?! You’re not even going to try to fix this, whatever this is?”

Her footsteps came hard and fast, before you felt her grabbing you, and shaking you as she screamed, “Talk to me! Why won’t you talk to me? You can’t keep pushing me away and expect this to work, because in case you haven't noticed, I have feelings too!”

Natasha knew your eyes were cloudy from the accident, but right then, looking right into them, she swore that she never saw more heartbreak materialising from you.

It took you another few weeks to come around. Weeks spent thinking, and eventually realising, that perhaps, Natasha was not so mistaken after all. Perhaps, you did deserve to want a family as much as she did.

Needless to say that indeed, a child brought significant relief, and motivation, to both your lives. You agreed to tone down the night haunts around Manhattan, she agreed to stop trying so hard for a strayed away Clint, and although things were not perfect, they were as close to perfect as they could get, after all those years.

Which was why the arrival of Scott Lang, and then subsequently, Tony Stark’s time-space GPS, was so unwelcome.

“What are you saying? That I’m being unreasonable?” Natasha confronted you, already preparing to leave.

“I’m saying,” you held back, swallowing the cuss you were about to throw out in front of your daughter, “That you weren’t thinking! That you didn’t even bother to ask me, that you were once again trying to save the world, and risking our lives, our daughter’s life, at it too!”

“So you’re telling me that I can’t go? That you won’t go with me?” She quipped, consciously closing the door to the nursery, “That you won’t even try to get Wanda, Sam, and everyone else back? To try to get Matt,” and then, as if it pained her, “and Stephen back?”

“I wasn’t saying that…” Your breath drawled, fists already in your pockets. “I was just saying that you didn’t think this through. For a moment, it felt like you forgot that our family exists, that I exist. You have something to lose now, Nat. I have something to lose.”

Natasha shut her eyes, before looking away. Inhaling deeply, you knew she was regretting how the conversation had gone.

“I will try to help you as best as I can, but this is your mission, not mine, Nat,” you began walking away, “We have a family now. And someone has to stay behind, for our little girl.”

–

“Say see you later to Mama, sweetheart.”

Natasha bounced the child in her arms, giving her a kiss before handing her back to the nanny and requesting some time for the both of you.

She knew you were still upset, as you stayed a distance away from her and the rest of the Avengers in their preparation to leave. Donned in her red and white spacesuit, she let out a small smile at the similarities it had to your all-red one.

“Hey,” she sat beside you, watching your expression carefully, “You sure about this?”

“Someone has to hold down the fort until you guys get back,” you muttered, still facing straight ahead.

“You know what I mean.” She moved to slowly lay her head on your shoulder, an olive branch for your forgiveness.

You laid your own head on top of hers, an apology accepted. “I’m just worried, Nat. It seems a little…unrealistic.”

“Tony’s never been one to stick to convention,” she tried to make you laugh, but instead you moved to hold her hand. Your grip was frail and cold, the severity of the mission weighing you down in so many ways that words could not describe.

“But I know you’re doing the right thing. That’s just the kind of person you are, and I love and respect you so much for that, you know I do,” you continued, “You’re getting Yelena, Peter, Wanda, everyone, back. I just wished the right thing wouldn’t hurt so much, sometimes.”

“I can stay behind, if it really worries you, dear.”

You shook your head, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “You and I both know that is not going to happen. They need you.”

Steve and Clint appeared then, giving the both of you a solemn look. It was time.

You embraced Natasha tightly, as if her touch was fleeting. It strangely felt like a goodbye.

“Come home, alright?” You smiled sadly when you noticed the tears welling up in her eyes, “Come home soon, and our family will be waiting for you. I’ll even prepare that shawarma you love so much.”

She laughed through the tears, kissing you right after. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She didn’t know it then, but all that was repeating in your head was, please, please come home. Please don’t make me lose another that I love. Please don’t be another one who leaves.

–

But when the group came back and you sensed no heartbeat that was hers, your hands began getting cold and your heartbeat racing.

“Clint, where’s Nat?” Had come from Banner, but you knew everyone was staring at you, especially Clint.

No, no, no. Clint had tears streaming down his face. You had just gotten back from a mission earlier, and were still in your suit. Gripping one of the batons especially hard, you asked, “Clint?”

“I’m…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. You considered throwing your baton, considered beating the life out of him, considered screaming you promised me, moments before the time-travel, in the dingy smoking room and so vulnerable, that you would protect her. That you would make sure she was safe. That you would give your life for hers. But it was of no use. You knew all too well what it meant.

Still, you managed to mumble, as if to Natasha somewhere, as if she would hear you and reconsider before giving up her life to save everyone else’s, to sacrifice herself because she thought it would hurt fewer people;

“What about me?”

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #marvel cinematic universe

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godjustkys · 12 days

Note

what fandoms do you write for? and for those fandoms, are there any specific characters you won't write for? and is there are a limit on how many characters we can ask about per request? will we get less headcanons if we ask for more characters?

Okay, so let's get the cinematic fandoms out of the way first. Then, we'll move onto anime.

Characters that are highlighted in blue are strictly only fluff fics.

Fandoms I write for;

- Teen Wolf

- MCU

- Supernatural

- The walking dead (AMC)

- Merlin (BBC)

- Dune

- Game of Thrones

- Friends

- Maze runner

- Lord of the Rings

- The Hobbit

- Harry Potter

- Brooklyn Nine-Nine

- IT

- Diary of a wimpy kid

- Dead Poet's Society

- Shameless

- Handsome Devil

- The black phone

- Sweet home

I am open to writing for characters that are from different fandoms that I haven't listed, but it's not necessarily a guarantee that I will present a fanfic for you.

Now,

The characters I will write for;

Teen wolf:

- Stiles Stilinski;

- Scott McCall;

- Derek Hale;

- Allison Argent;

- Lydia Martin;

- Isaac Lahey;

- Jackson Whittemore;

- Peter Hale;

- Malia Tate;

- Kira Yukimura;

- Liam Dunbar;

- Theo Raeken;

- Jordan Parrish;

- Erica Reyes;

- Ethan;

- Aiden;

- Christopher Argent;

- Mason Hewitt;

- Danny;

MCU:

- Tony Stark;

- Peter Parker;

- Bruce Banners;

- Thor Odinson;

- Loki Laufeyson;

- Steve Rogers;

- Natasha Romanoff;

- Stephen Strange;

- Wanda Maximoff;

- Clint Barton;

- Bucky Barnes;

- Carol Denvers;

- Shuri;

- Sam Wilson;

- Okoye;

- Wade Wilson;

- Pietro Maximoff;

- Vision;

- Scott Lang;

- Yelena Belova;

- Peter Quill;

- Gamora;

- Nebula;

- Matt Murdock;

- Xu Shang-chi;

- Eddie Brock;

SUPERNATURAL:

- Dean Winchester;

- Sam Winchester;

- Castiel;

(my knowledge is limited, I'm so sorry.)

THE WALKING DEAD:

- Rick Grimes;

- Carl Grimes;

- Michonne;

- Negan;

- Daryl Dixon;

- Eugene;

- Rosita Espinosa;

- Maggie Greene;

- Glenn Rhee;

- Carol Peletier;

- Andrea;

- Gabriel Stokes;

MERLIN:

- Merlin.

- Arthur Pendragon;

- Morgana Pendragon;

- Guinevere;

- Lancelot;

- Mordred;

- Leon;

- Gwaine;

- Elyan;

- Percival;

- Princess Mithian;

DUNE:

- Paul Atreides;

- Chani;

- Feyd-Rautha;

- Duncan Idaho;

- Leto Atreides;

- Stilgar;

GAME OF THRONES:

- Jon Snow;

- Robb Stark;

- Ned Stark;

- Jaime Lannister;

- Catelyn Stark;

- Cersei Lannister;

- Daenerys Targaryen;

- Jorah Mormont;

- Sansa Stark;

- Arya Stark;

- Theon Greyjoy;

- Joffrey Baratheon;

- Sandor Clegane;

- Tyrion Lannister;

- Samwell Tarly;

- Margaery Tyrell;

- Tywin Lannister;

- Tormund Giantsbane;

- Brienne of Tarth;

- Ramsay Bolton;

- Tommen Baratheon;

- Jaqen H'ghar;

- Grey Worm;

FRIENDS:

- Rachel Green;

- Phoebe Buffay;

- Ross Geller;

- Chandler Bing;

- Monica Geller;

- Joey Tribbiani;

MAZE RUNNER:

- Newt;

- Minho;

- Gally;

- Aris;

- Frypan;

- Janson;

- Thomas;

LORD OF THE RINGS:

- Frodo;

- Samwise;

- Galadriel;

- Aragorn;

- Boromir;

- Faramir;

- Arwen;

- Éowyn;

- Éomer;

- Legolas;

THE HOBBIT:

- Bilbo Baggins

- Thorin Oakenshield;

- Kili;

- Fili;

- Tauriel;

- King Thranduil;

- Elrond;

HARRY POTTER:

- Harry Potter;

- Hermione Granger;

- Ron Weasley;

- Draco Malfoy;

- Severus Snape;

- James Potter;

- Sirius Black;

- Regulus Black;

- Remus Lupin;

- George Weasley;

- Fred Weasley;

- Bill Weasley;

- Luna Lovegood;

- Neville Longbottom;

- Bellatrix Lestrange;

- Cedric Diggory;

- Lucius Malfoy;

- Oliver Wood;

- Seamus Finnigan;

- Dean Thomas;

BROOKLYN NINE-NINE:

- Jake Peralta;

- Amy Santiago;

- Charles Boyle;

- Gina Linetti;

- Ray Holt;

- Rosa Diaz;

- Terry Jeffords;

IT:

- Richie Tozier;

- Eddie Kaspbrak;

- Beverly Marsh;

- Henry Bowers;

- Bill Denbrough;

- Patrick Hockstetter;

- Stanley Uris;

- Ben Hanscom;

- Mike Hanlon;

DIARY OF A WIMPY KID:

- Rodrick Heffley;

DEAD POETS SOCIETY:

- Greg Heffley;

- Neil Perry;

- Todd Anderson;

- Charlie Dalton;

- Knox Overstreet;

- Steven Meeks;

- John Keating;

SHAMELESS:

- Fiona Gallagher;

- Lip Gallagher;

- Ian Gallagher;

- Debbie Gallagher;

- Carl Gallagher;

- Liam Gallagher;

- Jimmy Lishman;

- Karen Jackson;

- Mandy Milkovich;

- Mickey Milkovich;

- Kevin Ball;

- Veronica Fisher;

- Svetlana Yevgenivna;

HANDSOME DEVIL:

- Conor Masters;

- Ned Roche;

- Dan Sherry;

THE BLACK PHONE:

- Finney Blake;

- Robin;

- Vance Hopper;

- Bruce;

- Billy;

- Griffin;

SWEET HOME:

- Cha Hyun-su;

- Lee Eun-hyuk;

- Pyeon Sang-wook;

- Jung Jae-heon;

- Seo Yi-kyung;

- Lee Eun-yu;

- Yoon Ji-su;

- Jung Ui-Myeong;

ANIME FANDOMS THAT I WRITE FOR;

- One Piece;

- Naruto;

- SK8 the infinity;

- Tokyo Revengers;

- Attack on Titan;

- Black Butler;

- One Punch Man;

- Hunter x Hunter;

- Demon Slayer;

- Jujutsu Kaisen;

- My Hero academia;

ONE PIECE:

- Monkey D. Luffy;

- Roronoa Zoro;

- Vinsmoke Sanji;

- Nico Robin;

- Nami;

- Usopp;

- Chopper;

- Franky;

- Brook;

- Shanks;

- Mihawk;

- Trafalgar Law;

- Eustass Kid;

- Rob Lucci;

NARUTO:

- Naruto Uzumaki;

- Sasuke Uchiha;

- Sakura Haruno;

- Itachi Uchiha;

- Kakashi Hatake;

- Tsunade;

- Obito Uchiha;

- Madara Uchiha;

- Hinata Hyuga;

- Shikamaru Nara;

- Ino Yamanaka;

- Rock Lee;

- Neji Hyuga;

- Gaara;

- Temari;

- Haku;

- Konan;

- Deidara;

- Sasori;

- Pain;

- Minato Namikaze;

- Kushina;

- Sai;

- Yamato;

SK8 THE INFINITY:

- Reki Kyan;

- Langa Hasegawa;

- Tadashi Kikuchi;

- Miya Chinen;

- Kaoru Sakurayashiki;

- Kojiro Nanjo;

- Ainosuke Shindo;

- Shokichi Oka;

TOKYO REVENGERS:

- Takemichi Hanagaki;

- Manjiro "Mikey" Sano;

- Izana Kurokawa;

- Haruchiyo Sanzu;

- Shinichiro Sano;

- Ken "Draken" Ryuguji;

- Naoto Tachibana;

- Chifuyu Matsuno;

- Keisuke Baji;

- Emma Sano;

- Hinata Tachibana;

- Nahoya "Smiley" Kawata;

- Souya "Angry" Kawata;

- Kazutora Hanemiya;

- Takashi Mitsuya;

- Tetta Kisaki;

- Shuji Hanma;

ATTACK ON TITAN:

- Eren Yeager;

- Mikasa Ackerman;

- Armin Arlert;

- Jean Kirstein;

- Connie Springer;

- Sasha Braus;

- Levi Ackerman;

- Hange Zoë;

- Erwin Smith;

- Annie Leonhart;

- Reiner Braun;

- Bertholdt Hoover;

- Zeke Yeager;

- Kenny Ackerman;

BLACK BUTLER:

- Sebastian Michaelis;

- Ciel Phantomhive;

- Grell Sutcliff;

- Undertaker;

- Ronald Knox;

- Alois Trancy;

- Claude Faustus;

ONE PUNCH MAN:

- Saitama;

- Genos;

- Fubuki;

- Tatsumaki;

- Kamikaze (Atomic Samurai);

- Zombieman;

- Metal Bat;

- Child Emperor;

HUNTER X HUNTER:

- Gon Freecs;

- Killua Zoldyck;

- Kurapika;

- Leorio;

- Hisoka;

- Illumi Zoldyck;

- Chrollo Lucifer;

- Feitan;

- Kalluto Zoldyck;

- Alluka Zoldyck;

- Shalnark;

- Pakunoda;

- Kite;

- Wing;

- Phinks;

- Machi;

- Nobunaga;

DEMON SLAYER:

- Tanjiro Kamado;

- Nezuko Kamado;

- Zenitsu Agatsuma;

- Inosuke Hashibira;

- Kanao Tsuyuri;

- Genya Shinazugawa;

- Giyuu Tomioka;

- Shinobu Kocho;

- Rengoku Kyojuro;

- Gyomei Himejima;

- Sanemi Shinazugawa;

- Mitsuri Kanroji;

- Iguro Obanai;

- Muichiro Tokito;

- Akaza;

- Douma;

- Muzan Kibutsuji;

JUJUTSU KAISEN:

- Itadori Yuuji;

- Megumi Fushiguro;

- Gojo Satoru;

- Geto Suguru;

- Nobara Kugisaki;

- Maki Zen'in;

- Toge Inumaki;

- Yuta Okkotsu;

- Kento Nanami;

- Aoi Todo;

- Mai Zen'in;

- Noritoshi Kamo;

MY HERO ACADEMIA:

- Izuku Midoriya;

- Katsuki Bakugou;

- Eijiro Kirishima;

- Kaminari Denki;

- Sero Hanta;

- Tenya Iida;

- Ochako Uraraka;

- Mina Ashido;

- Jirou Kyoka;

- Mashirao Ojiro;

- Shoto Todoroki;

- Momo Yaoyorozu;

- Monoma Neito;

- Shinsou Hitoshi;

- Tamaki Amajiki;

- Keigo Takami;

- All Might;

- Aizawa Shouta;

- Ken Tagaki;

- Tomura Shigaraki;

- Touya Todoroki;

- Himiko Toga;

- Mr. Compress;

- Overhaul;

Finally. I'm done. (This took almost 2 hours bro.)

No, there is no limit to the amount of characters you request (for headcanons). However, it might take longer than usual.

And no, you will not get less headcanons if there are more characters :3

#request #reqs open #fanfiction #fanfic #fandoms #movies #marvel #anime #male reader #dom male reader #top male reader

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