The Holidays With Older!nat

The Holidays With Older!nat
The Holidays With Older!nat
The Holidays With Older!nat
The Holidays With Older!nat
The Holidays With Older!nat
The Holidays With Older!nat
The Holidays With Older!nat
The Holidays With Older!nat
The Holidays With Older!nat

the holidays with older!nat

More Posts from Seera-li and Others

3 years ago

Can I request a Natasha x Avenger!Fem reader where Natasha has gotten into a habit of sleeping over at reader’s room 4 times a week and one night, she has a nightmare and reader is there to comfort her and then feelings are declared because they both like like each other and reader would say as she holds Natasha in her arms, “You are never sleeping by yourself again so long as I’m here…”

What Dreams Are Made Of

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pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

warnings: nightmares, death

summary: You comfort Natasha after a nightmare because even the toughest people need solace

word count: 3.7k

a/n: thank you anon for requesting this! i really enjoyed writing this so i hope u like it too :) also huge shoutout to @didujustcallmedumb for giving me some ideas, encouraging me to write this, and also reading it over <3

There were many perks of having your room be closest to the kitchen. For starters, you always had easy access to a late night snack, and also, you were always first to try Wanda’s cooking whenever the delicious smell drifted through the air.

But it also meant that everyone walked past your room whenever they needed to go to the kitchen, whether it be for an early breakfast or for a simple glass of water. You didn’t think it’d be a problem, until you realized you did in fact live with a team full of superheroes who each did not have the most friendliest of pasts, meaning nightmares were a common occurrence.

You often heard footsteps pass your door in the middle of the night followed by the soothing sound of water flowing from the sink, though it was rarely loud enough to actually disturb your slumber.

Tonight was one of those nights. Light footsteps padded down the hallway, and you could fairly hear the squeak of a cabinet, the one that stored all the mugs if you had to take a guess. Of all the people in the compound, at least those currently not on a mission, you only knew one who drank their water out of a mug: Natasha.

Clicking on your light, you pulled back the covers, shivering slightly as the brisk cold air hit your bare legs. You slipped on a pair of Rudolph slippers, which Pietro had gifted you ironically for Hanukkah, and made your way into the kitchen.

Upon your entrance, Natasha looked up, setting her mug down on the counter, and offered you a tired smile. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No,” you lied easily, stifling a yawn as you moved to seat in the stool across from her. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Something like that,” she shrugged nonchalantly before sipping her drink.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Natasha stared at you, the inner turmoil clear in her eyes. “Not really, but thank you.”

“Of course” you smiled, as you slid off your seat to grab some water. Knowing the former assassin like you did, you had a feeling she probably wouldn’t be going to sleep again tonight, even if she retreated back to her room. As you filled your glass, an idea popped into your head.

“Do you wanna, um, maybe you wanna—,” you stuttered, a slight blush creeping up your neck. “Do you wanna sleep with me?”

As soon as the words escaped you, your eyes widened, and Natasha raised her eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you shook your head. “I just meant sleep in the same bed, actually sleep, because I know I always sleep better when I’m not alone, and I mean when I’m in the presence of someone else not that other thing. I’m just going to stop talking now.”

Natasha chuckled at your rambling. “(Y/N), I know what you mean.”

“Right,” you looked down bashfully.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back to sleep and I don’t wanna keep you up.”

“Don’t worry about it, Nat,” you internally rolled your eyes at her predictable response before putting on your best pout. “Please, for me?”

Unable to resist, your puppy eyes being one of her few weaknesses, Natasha playfully rolled her eyes. “Alright.”

You beamed as the two of you made your way back down the hall and into your room. As you entered, immediately heading back to bed, Natasha stopped to look around, and you realized this was the first time she’s seeing your room.

As if she could sense your nervousness, which she probably could, Natasha slowly walked towards you. “It’s nice,” she motioned to the space around her. “Very you.”

“Thanks?”

“It’s a compliment, (Y/N),” Natasha assured with a slight chuckle, as she pulled back the covers to slip into bed.

“Oh, sorry,” you felt your cheeks warm. “Thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” she yawned, as you both laid down, sinking into the mattress.

“Don’t mention it, Nat,” you rolled over to turn the lamp off. “Get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N/N),” Natasha mumbled, her eyes already closed.

“Goodnight,” you returned softly, briefly admiring the sleeping woman before letting slumber take you as well.

The next morning, you were slightly disappointed to wake up to a cold bed, though you couldn’t say you were necessarily surprised. You knew Nat was not one to share her feelings with others often, so you had a feeling that last night was going to be a one night thing.

Feeling the heat radiating from the floor, you leave your slippers behind and head into the kitchen, following the wafting scent of pancakes.

“Morning,” you greeted Sam, Wanda, Steve, and Clint, who were all eagerly awaiting the other woman’s homemade breakfast.

“Good morning, (Y/N/N),” she chirped, turning around from the stove, still holding the spatula.

“Hi Wands,” you smiled, pecking her cheek before reaching around her to grab a mug for some coffee. “Where’s Piet?”

The three of you were like three peas in a pod ever since the twins joined the team. You had been quick to forgive them after everything with Ultron, as you weren’t one to hold grudges.

“He had to leave for a mission with Tony and Nat earlier,” she explained, turning her attention back to the skillet.

“What? Why wasn’t I called?” you turned to Steve, confused as to why Natasha, your usual mission partner, was sent out but you weren’t.

“They needed Pietro’s speed, so I swapped you two and you’re going tomorrow,” the captain informed, before adding with a knowing smirk, “Besides, Natasha can handling herself.”

“I know,” you grumbled under your breath, still slightly irritated.

“Speaking of Nat,” Sam butted in, a devious glint in his eye, “I saw her leave your room this morning. Fun night last night?”

All heads whipped towards you, and Wanda turned around so fast that a half-cooked pancake went flying through the air.

“What?” you coughed, nearly choking on your coffee. “It’s not—we didn’t—nothing happened.”

“Like that’s believable,” Sam snorted, hiding a grin behind the rim of his cup, as the rest of the group chuckled under their breaths.

“I’m being serious, guys,” you insisted with a whine. “She just stayed over because I was having trouble sleeping.”

So you bent the truth slightly, but you didn’t want to say anything about Natasha that she didn’t want the team knowing about.

“Okay, we believe you, (Y/N/N),” Wanda winked at you, knowing your harbored feelings for the redhead. “We’ll drop it,” she raised her eyebrow at the guys, daring them to protest.

“Right,” Sam nodded, while Steve and Clint just shook their heads, amused by everybody’s antics.

“Now come on,” Wanda placed a plate full of pancakes in the middle of the island, “let’s eat.”

You spent the rest of the day doing the usual training and paperwork, and though it was no mission, you were completely exhausted by the time your body hit the mattress. Your body was sore after Steve and Wanda put you through the wringer during training, and while Natasha was your usual sparring partner, at least she didn’t have magical powers that could practically throw you across the room.

Picking up your book, you slump back into your pillows and pull up the blankets.

Almost fifteen minutes later, you hear a soft knock on your door. As you finish the page you’re on, you call out to the person behind the door, “Come in.”

“Hey,” Natasha’s raspy voice causes you to put your book down and look up.

“Hey, Nat,” you greet, as you pat the spot next to you, inviting her to join you. “How was the mission?”

“It was fine,” Nat responded succinctly, and you knew not to ask further. Despite your indirect invitation to join you, she made no movement to accept. “Um, do you think I could, uh, sleep here tonight? Again? With you?”

Softening, you took a second to relish this moment of vulnerability and to observe the other woman. Despite clearly being worn out from her mission, slight scratches and heavy fatigue decorating her features, she still had a radiance to her that awed you.

“Of course you can,” you scooted off to the right side of the bed and pulled down the blankets for her. “Get in.”

Natasha sent you an appreciative smile before sliding off her slippers and getting under the covers. Shutting your book, you put it on your bedside table and rolled not your side to look at her.

“You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

Still on her back, Nat was staring at the ceiling, and if her eyes weren’t open, you’d think she’d fallen asleep already. “It was a tough one,” she huffed, shifting on her side so her face was inches from yours. “We were outnumbered right from the get go. And it should’ve been an easy get-in-get-out intel collection but our information must have been wrong.”

You knew there was something more that was bothering her because, usually, Natasha wasn’t fazed by unexpected surprises or missions going awry. But you patiently waited for her to continue, wanting her to open up to you on her own.

“They had kids there, (Y/N),” she revealed breathlessly. “Kids.”

You cringed, knowing all too well how difficult cases with captives were but even more so when they were children.

“You did your job, Nat,” you soothed reassuringly. “You got them out. You saved them.”

A moment of silence hung over your heads before she closed her eyes and turned onto her back, “I know.”

Watching the other woman, you couldn’t help but twist your lips, not knowing what to say to ease her worries. “Get some rest, Nat,” you switched the light off. “Tomorrow’s a new day.”

Your phone alarm woke you up the next morning, and you mentally cursed yourself for forgetting. Groggily, you opened your eyes and shut it off, checking the time.

5:00 am.

You glanced over your shoulder to see if Natasha had woken up, but the redhead only stirred slightly before falling back asleep.

Sighing, you quickly jotted down a note for her, telling her that you had to leave for a mission, before getting dressed and gathering your things to head down to the quinjet.

When Natasha awoke, three hours later, she frowned at the sight of your empty side of the bed. Before she could get too upset, she spotted a small piece of paper on your pillow.

Nat—

Had early an early mission. Sorry I forgot to tell you.

Hope we’re still down for training tomorrow?

See you later :)

—(Y/N)

Natasha’s lips twitched upwards, her heart swelling at your adorable smiley face. While the former assassin knew she had feelings for you, ones that went beyond teammates or even friendship, she didn’t want to get hurt. After everything with Bruce, the will-they-won’t-they back and forth, Natasha wasn’t ready to put herself out there again, no matter how much she wanted to.

You, Steve, Clint, and Sam returned later that evening, and you wanted nothing more than to take a steaming hot shower and collapse in your bed. But before you could do just that, Wanda stopped you in the kitchen.

“Where are you going?”

“To bed?” you furrowed your brows, unsure as to why your friend was depriving you of cleanliness and sleep.

“You haven’t eaten,” Wanda stated as if it was obvious, nodding to whatever, you had to admit, smelled delectable.

“But—,” you went to protest but the brunette was quick to interrupt.

“(Y/N),” she raised her brow and dangerously tilted her head, “you need to eat.”

“Fine,” you relented, sagging your shoulders in defeat. “At least let me shower first.”

Wanda nodded before calling after you, “You better be back out here in thirty or else I’m coming to get you.”

Nodding, you knew your best friend was not messing around. As you entered your room, you were already working on unzipping your suit and unstrapping your weapons. Though you were tired, you were still alert enough to sense someone else’s presence.

You snapped your head up, grabbing the knife still strapped to your thigh, only to see Natasha sitting against your headboard reading a book, her body covered by your blanket.

“Jeez, Nat,” you clutched your chest, “you scared me.”

“Sorry,” she smiled sheepishly.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, as you moved to peel of your mission attire.

“Well,” Natasha hesitated briefly, “I was wondering if I could sleep here again?”

Closing your dresser drawer, you turned around to face her, but before you could answer, she continued.

“You don’t have to say yes or anything. It’s just I find that I sleep better here that alone in my room, but I don’t wanna bother you or disrupt your space, so if—“

“Natasha,” you chuckled, interrupting her rambling, “of course you can sleep here.”

You saw her let out a small breath of relief, causing the corners of your mouth to curl upwards.

“I’m gonna take a shower and then go eat some dinner, if you want to join me,” you explained and pointed to the bathroom door, before your eyes widened. “I meant join me for dinner not in the shower. Wanda’s cooking and she’s making food and I’m sure she made plenty for everyone if you want to join? You don’t have to. I don’t know if you already ate but—“

“(Y/N/N), don’t worry. I knew what you meant,” this time, it was Natasha’s turn to interrupt you. “I ate earlier but thanks.”

Nodding awkwardly, you turned on your heels and headed into the bathroom. The streams of hot water did wonders for your aching muscles. Before you could get lost in your thoughts, you felt Wanda poking around in your head.

“You better hurry up, (Y/N),” she projected. “Your food is getting cold.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you muttered under your breath. Wanda rarely used her powers on you, and you knew that when she did, it was always out of good intent.

As you dried off, you realized you didn’t bring you pajamas into the bathroom with you. “Crap.”

Trying to sneak out into your room without Natasha noticing was an impossible mission, but one you desperately attempted. You slowly turned the handle and peeked through the door, making sure the redhead’s attention was still on her book. As you tiptoed out, hair still wet and in just your towel, Natasha looked up, her eyes widening and lips parting at the sight of your bare skin.

“Sorry,” you grimaced. “Forgot my clothes.”

When Natasha didn’t say anything, too stunned to speak, you gave her a tight smile before scurrying back into the bathroom. Once you were fully dressed, you came back out, still in the process of drying your hair with a towel.

“Sorry about that,” you apologized again.

“It’s not a problem,” Natasha smirked, having recovered from the initial shock.

“Right,” you let out a nervous chuckle. “Well, I’m just gonna go eat dinner now.”

You turned to leave before you could embarrass yourself any further. As you shut the door, you could faintly hear a small laugh from the other woman, causing you to shake your head amusedly.

By the time you finished dinner and dessert, which Tony had so graciously dropped off after his date with Pepper, it was already pretty late. So you were not surprised to see Natasha already asleep, curled up under the covers.

Careful not to wake her, you slowly got into bed. As your weight caused the mattress to dip, Natasha rolled over, immediately seeking out the warmth of your body. You tensed, as she unexpectedly nestled into your side, her head resting against your shoulder and her hand finding the exposed skin just beneath the hem of your pajama shirt.

As you moved your arm around her, bringing her closer to your body, you relaxed and subconsciously combed your fingers through her red locks.

Turning your head slightly, you took a moment to admire the sleeping woman. For someone who’s front was so stoic and hard, Natasha’s features were inherently soft: the natural plumpness of her lips, the way her eyelashes curled on their own.

Looking at her now, you felt as you truly saw Natasha, completely stripped of her Black Widow facade.

“You’ll never have to sleep alone as long as I’m here,” you whispered. “Sweet dreams, Nat.”

You pressed a quick kiss to the crown of her head before letting your head hit the pillow. As you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, you missed the small sleepy smile forming across Natasha’s lips.

A couple of days later, you found yourself on a mission that required all hands on deck, meaning the entire Avengers teams was out in the field plus Fury and Hill over the comms. Though difficult, the firing HYDRA soldiers were nothing you or anybody else couldn’t handle. Everything was going pretty smoothly.

Until it wasn’t.

As you and Natasha were running back to the jet, a stray HYDRA soldier fired twice, once in your thigh and once in your back. Immediately, you fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

“(Y/N)!” Natasha screamed before spotting the man who shot you and aiming her gun at him. You knew he was dead; Nat never missed. Rushing over to you, she kneeled by your side, frantically trying to find your wounds amidst all the dirt and blood that covered you.

As she pressed hard onto your abdomen, you grunted in discomfort.

“I know,” Natasha soothed with a sniffle, desperately trying not to cry, but you could see the tears clouding her green orbs. “I know it hurts, but you’re gonna be alright. You’re gonna be okay.”

Feeling yourself weakening, you put your hand on top of hers. “Nat,” you sighed, and she met your eyes, “we both know that’s not true.”

“No,” she shook her head desperately, “you’re gonna be fine.”

“Natasha,” you said as firm as you could muster, “I need you to know…”

As you trailed off, Steve’s voice came over the intercoms.

“Romanoff, (Y/L/N),” the captain yelled, “there’s a bomb set to destroy the base. Get back to the jet. Now!”

“I’m not leaving her,” Natasha cried.

“Natasha,” you gasped, “you have to go.”

Shaking her head again, she cradled your face, not caring about the blood that stained her hands. “No, I’m not leaving you,” she said with fierce determination, a trait you always admired of hers, though dare you call it stupid stubbornness at times.

“Please,” you coughed, blood dripping out of the corner of your mouth, “for me.”

Your last words came out so weak that if Natasha wasn’t inches from your face she wouldn’t have heard them. As she realized that your breathing had stopped, a sob escaped her lips.

“I love you,” Natasha whispered, resting her forehead against yours, briefly forgetting the fact that she was in the middle of a battlefield. “I’m sorry I never told you.”

“Natasha!” Steve yelled in her earpiece. When she didn’t respond, too stuck in her grief, he called again, “Natasha!”

This time, she got to her feet, as she wiped her nose. Running as fast as her feet could take her, knowing she had little time before the bomb was going to go off, Natasha couldn’t stop the tears from blurring her vision. As she saw the figure of the jet in the distance, the bomb exploded, her ears ringing as she went flying.

Faintly, she could hear her name being called from her team. “Natasha!”

“Natasha!”

“Natasha!”

Natasha’s eyes flew open, almost expecting herself to be in the med bay, but was startled to see your concerned expression hovering over her.

“Hey,” you offered her a worried smile, your hands still resting on her shoulders. “You were having a nightmare, a pretty bad one by the looks of it. Are you alr–“

Before you could finish, Natasha leaped forward, wrapping her arms around you. “Oh my god,” she sighed, relief evident in her voice. “You’re alive.”

Pulling back from her, you tilted your head. “Of course I am, Nat.”

“But I saw you,” Natasha shook her head, unable to stop the break in her voice. “I saw you die right in front of me.”

“Oh, baby,” the pet name slipping out naturally, as you pulled her back into your body, cradling her head soothingly. “I’m right here. You hear that?” You asked, knowing her ear was right over your heart.

“I’m still alive.”

Moving to sit upright, Natasha sniffled and wiped her face. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you softly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. As your finger tips lightly brushed her cheek, Nat lifted her head to meet your eyes.

“(Y/N),” she whispered, thinking this was as good a time as any.

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Natasha revealed, causing you to bite back a smile that was threatening to take over your face. “I think I have been since the first day I met you. And I realized that life is too short to be holding myself back from what I want, especially in our line of work.”

As she searched your face for any response, you grinned, eyes shining with adoration and relief. Surging forward, you cupped her cheeks and brought her in for a tender kiss.

Natasha immediately reciprocated, and your lips melted together beautifully. Before you could get lost in the taste of her, air became a necessity and you both separated, breathing heavily.

Leaning her forehead against yours, Natasha gently wiped a stray tear that had fallen down your cheek. “Why are you crying, detka?”

“I’m just so happy,” you giggled and nuzzled your nose against hers.

“Me too,” she beamed, smiling against your lips, kissing you once more.

As the two of you fell asleep that night, your limbs tangled together, you thought to yourself,

This is what dreams are made of.

———

taglist: @when-wolves-howl @xxxtwilightaxelxxx


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3 years ago

Gentleness

Soft!Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Fluff, Natasha gets a migraine and tries to hide it. Based on a lovely request.

Gentleness

Natasha was definitely sick. You noticed in the morning, but you were wise enough now not to point it out.

When she could barely keep her eyes open during lunch, Natasha finally admitted that she had a headache. 

You rubbed small circles on Natasha’s back, filled with quiet concern as her shoulders hunched forward with discomfort. 

You didn’t correct her, but you knew it wasn’t just a headache. 

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3 years ago

I need more mediocre gfs please!! Maybe like Reader getting hurt in an attack like I’m curious how she would act

sure but i didnt rly do that bc nothing serious ever happens in the mediocre gfs verse<3 welcome to the circus babies<3

Your relationship isn't public in the sense that neither of you thinks it's particularly wise to advertise to Nat's long, long list of enemies that she fostered any sort of positive emotion towards any specific member of the general public. It isn't particularly wise to advertise that Nat experiences any emotions, really, since unpredictability is the name of the game. But it's okay if people know she, perhaps, might like her coworkers because her coworkers could kill someone accidentally by, like, breathing too hard or something. You, on the other hand, are entirely normal. Maybe not well-adjusted, mentally at least, but you're not an alien with super strength, nor are you a mutated superhero borne from unethical scientific experimentation. Just normal human you.

Her friends and family know, obviously, since Nat is as unrepentant and shameless as they come. She likes to flex the fact that she's not emotionally stunted enough to not be able to bag a girl, basically. You're glad, at least, that you don't have to stop yourself from throwing yourself at Nat during house parties.

Nat also likes to lounge on an armchair with you perched on her lap, looking like the cat that got the cream; she said, one time, that it makes her feel like she has a huge cock. You had rolled your eyes at that, arms looped around her neck, and assured her that her cock was, indeed, quite large. She had smirked and kissed your neck and said in that insufferable tone: "I know." And Clint, who had been sitting on a nearby couch, had made a noise of revulsion and disappeared into the kitchen so he didn't have to hear Nat and you being so annoying. The two of you were a joy, to say the least, at Avengers dinner parties.

So, it comes as a surprise to both you and Nat--and your superhero friends when they hear about it afterwards--when you're shoved into a crummy alley by gunpoint because no one is supposed to know about your relationship to her outside of your inner circles. It's also a surprise because, you know, there's a gun pointed at you by a really menacing looking dude.

You're supposed to be safe. Everyone made sure to keep your relationship under wraps. How did they find you?

He's shouting at you, but you're too panicked, fumbling with your bag and backing into the wall, to really process what he's saying. Nat, who had been on a call with you, is also yelling at you in alarm through the AirPods Pro she had gotten you as a gift. You don't know what the fuck is happening. Maybe you shouldn't walk around the city with the noise-cancelling function on.

Suddenly, she goes quiet, and you glance at your phone, seeing the call has been dropped, and so too, then, does your stomach. A heavy feeling of dread sinks into you, and you find yourself shaking.

The barrel of the gun waves closer to your face, and you let out an undignified squeak, and then the man is wrenching your phone away with a curse when he realizes you had been on a call. Now, you are paying lots of attention to the man with the gun.

He is a mugger. You are being mugged.

"Oh, thank god," you let out in a rush, basically hurling your AirPods case at him. "Here. I-I'll get my wallet, too. It's- It's in my bag."

He is taken aback by your change in attitude, clutching the case like his life depends on it. "What- Hey, lady. What the fuck?"

You nod rapidly. "Yeah. Yeah, don't worry about me. Well, you can. I mean, don't shoot me. I have to get my wallet, okay?"

"...Okay?" The gun lowers. Dark eyes blink at you through his ski mask in utter bewilderment. "I mean-" He draws the gun back up with a scowl. "Just give me the bag."

You frown now, too. You had bought Nat a sandwich. It's in there. "But..."

"Give me the fucking bag!"

"Right! Yeah! Jesus, okay," you yell out, shoving the bag towards him and flinching away when the gun once again comes too close to comfort. "I just want you to know that my girlfriend's going to be so mad at you."

He ignores you. Why would he reply, after all? He's a mugger. You're his victim blathering on about your girlfriend. Your totally regular girlfriend.

Your girlfriend, whom you have yet to spot swinging off the roof and onto the fire escape above. Until, that is, her boots hit it with a loud clang, and both of you jerk up to look.

Then, it's over for him because Nat comes down swinging with a furious look on her face, utterly silent aside from her grunts when she lands on him and throws him upside down into the dumpster. A gunshot rings out, hitting the wall far enough away from you that you don't immediately piss yourself, but it's still a gunshot, so you still jump away with a screech.

You fall into the wall, dropping your bag, and scramble on your ass towards the main street. By the time you've gotten your bearings, Nat's straddled the mugger, gun kicked far into the alley and is midway through her third punch into the guy's face.

"Nat," you gasp out, pulse racing, throbbing, really, in your temple, "Nat!"

Your cries fall on deaf ears. She's still giving this guy hell, questioning him in a tone so cold you're glad you never have to face her for real. She seems to be under the impression that he's a neo-Nazi terrorist or something.

Quickly, you crawl over, scuffing your knees on the sidewalk, and place a hand on her back. She stills, still glowering down at the crumpled mugger beneath her. But then you put your other hand on her back, and you slide them onto her shoulders, and you cling on with a shuddering sigh.

She feels safe. She feels warm and solid and real. It hadn't felt real these past few minutes, you realize belatedly, and you cling on tighter. Suddenly, there are tears in your eyes. You feel a bit stupid for them since this is something that happens every day in the city, and Nat's faced worse, and here you are, about to sob your eyes out.

In relief, though. Relief. Sweet relief in the arms of your equally shaken up girlfriend.

She plants a hand on the guy's head, forcing his nose into the cement, and slips her free arm around your hiccupping shoulders.

"It's okay," she murmurs into your hair, a strangled note to her voice. "I'm here. It's okay."

"He-He was just mugging me," you manage, stilted, and so very much in love with Nat. Acutely aware of your love for her when you feel her relax and then stiffen up and then relax again once she's registered what you said. You keep blubbering on: "You crossed four blocks in as many minutes because I was getting mugged."

"Well." She sniffs, pressing him harder into the ground and disregarding his pained moan. "Yes."

"I love you," you say around a ragged breath. Your tears are subsiding.

Nat stiffly pats your back and glances down at him. "Yes."

"You should probably call off whatever national security agency you contacted," you say after a moment.

Both of you pay the mugger's squawk no mind. Nat just nods and says, again, "Yes." She releases you to pull her phone out of her pocket, face entirely unreadable, as she does as told. "You should also apologize to Carol."

"Me?" You make a face. Shuffle closer on your knees. "Why?"

"She, uh," Nat starts, then stops with a grimace. Rolls her eyes. "There's a war happening. Like, a few galaxies away."

"Galaxies," you repeat.

"Yeah. She's probably halfway here already."

"Galaxies."

"Yeah, baby," she says into her phone as she taps away. "She says that she's glad that you're all right, but you owe her a round of drinks."

You yank her arms closer to you--or, rather, she lets you pull her phone to your face. "She says you owe her drinks."

"We owe her drinks; that's what I said," Nat says. Finally, you see the wobble of her lips. Up and down, and up again. "You... You're okay?"

You smile softly, wiping the dampness from your cheeks. "Yeah. What about you, honey?"

Nat just nods. Then, she looks down at the guy under her and gets up with an out of place grace. He instantly tries to get up and run, but Nat just steps on his back, and he goes down again.

You pry your AirPods case out of his grip and get to your feet to pick up your bag. You put your stuff back in and shuffle back to Nat, who's palming her forehead and staring at the sky.

You curl your fingers around her tense forearm, rubbing a thumb into her skin until she turns to look at you.

"I love you," you repeat.

Nat lets her lips slant upward, and she cups your cheek. "Me too. About you."

You lean into her, nosing at her shoulder with a sigh. "How did you even get here?"

Nat lets out a breathy laugh. "Breaking and entering, and parkour on top of rooftops."

"Thank you," you say after a beat.

She shakes her head, hand pressing harder into your face. "Don't thank me."

"This is, like, cute and romantic, but I think you broke my ribs and my nose," says the mugger who has since dragged himself up to sprawl against the dumpster.

"Shut up," Nat snaps. "You should be glad I didn't break more."

He huffs and crosses his arms.

You wrap your arms around Nat's waist, smiling widely into her jacket. Nat can tell, of course, because she always knows. She tangles her hands in your hair, cradling you close to her chest, as fond of you as you are of her.

"Oh," you remember suddenly, "I got you a sandwich."

The cops find the three of you like this: Nat munching on a club sandwich with you draped over her side and the mugger looking awfully put out opposite you guys.

That night, and in the days following, Nat refuses to let you leave her sight. Very awkward to wash your hands in front of the bathroom line that had all seen a stoic Nat barge her way into your stall. You wouldn't change a single thing about it.


Tags
3 years ago

black widow but it’s just chaos

(or: yelena belova being a child for 7 minutes straight)


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3 years ago

Oh gods this is so good my heart is melting😭 This really helped some of my insecurities and Scarlet is so sweet💕💕 You managed to convey emotion really well I honestly felt anxious before the premiere- I love this

What We Talk About When We Talk About Love

Scarlett Johansson x Reader

Word Count: 4.1K

A/N: Based on this lovely request. Please note this talks about body insecurity and also coming out. There are also sexy scenes :)

image
image

——

You didn’t know why Scarlett loved you, but you trusted that she did. You didn’t always love yourself. Kindness was easier with others than it was for yourself.

All the first moments between you and Scarlett had been hesitant. You’d met through friends, there’d been group dinners, nights at bars. You’d liked her smile, but you didn’t let yourself consider it.

You hadn’t known she liked women. Noone had. When she’d taken your hand the first time, in the back of the taxi cab, the movement had been rushed. Her eyes had been focused forward, but you’d caught her shallow breaths. There’d been a heartbeat of a moment, you’d felt everything hang in the balance. Then, you’d squeezed her hand back. 

Scarlett had turned to face you, eyes wide. Her cheeks had shimmered golden with the glow of the night time traffic. She’d looked briefly surprised, and then, abruptly she’d looked scared. You’d held her gaze as you smiled.

Scarlett had searched your eyes for a long moment before she’d smiled back. But, she did smile back.

You left the taxi cab together.

Keep reading


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3 years ago

These Hands of Yours Pt. 2

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, talks of therapy and allat, bruises, anxiety and whatnot

Summary: Can you forgive Natasha after she attacks you in her sleep?

A/N: again, a very rushed ending bc I literally never know how to end anything. even essays, corny ass ending.

 These Hands Of Yours Pt. 2

Part 1

The sun shining through your window was what woke you up the next morning. When you opened your eyes you were met with Natasha’s green eyes that were a little puffy from last night. Her hand was still tightly intertwined with yours, her thumb rubbing you softly.

“Hi.” She whispered out quietly. You could finally see her features perfectly with the sunlight now covering the whole room instead of the moonlight. You watched as her gaze traveled down to your neck, and the events of last night flooded through your brain. You tensed up, and Natasha noticed.

“Good morning.” You replied in the same tone. You looked at everything but her, knowing that you would break down if you continued to look at her. Tears were unwilling pooling in your eyes, and you felt Natasha squeeze your hand.

“Baby,” she said in a pleading voice. “It’s okay. You can let it out now, Y/n.” You closed your eyes and shook your head, unable to speak any words due to the lump forming in your throat. “Can you look at me, please?”

A sob escaped from your lips at her comforting tone. Her voice soft and reassuring which is exactly what you needed to finally let go.

“I was s- so scared, Nat.” She pulled you into her chest, holding you closely as you cried and vented. “I- I thought t-that you were upset with me about earlier,” She closed her eyes as more tears formed in them, guilt flooding through her body.

“A-and then when I realized you weren’t yourself I was even m-more scared. You weren’t responding and I tried so hard to- I didn’t know what to do.” With all of the talking and crying you were gasping for air at this point, and Natasha sat the both of you up.

“I- couldn’t… I didn’t, Nat.” You were still crying and hyperventilating. She held your face in her hands, forcing you to look at her.

“Y/n. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, detka, but I need you to try and breathe, okay?” Natasha grabbed your hands and placed them on her chest, hers going back to hold your head in place. “Follow my breathing, detka. You can do it.”

You copied Natasha. Breathing in when she did, and out. It took a few minutes for you to finally calm down enough, being reduced to whimpers and sniffles. You were still breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath when you spoke up again.

“I didn’t know what to do, well I couldn’t do anything.” Your eyes drifted down to the bed sheets. “One of your hands was holding both of mine down until I slipped one out.” Natasha closed her eyes and brought you closer to her, kissing your forehead before resting it against hers.

“I am so, so sorry I put you through that, detka. I’m so sorry.” Tears were streaming down your face as you nodded at her. “I’ll do everything I can to make it up to you, okay?”

You shook your head and opened your mouth to tell Natasha that she didn’t need to do that, but she cut you off before you could speak.

“It wasn’t up for debate, Y/n.” You looked at her and only saw love mixed with guilt in her eyes, her hands hovering over you as if she was scared to break you. The ever so caring Natasha Romanoff here in front of you would never intentionally hurt you, and you knew that.

“I uh… I’m still a bit shaken up.” You mumbled out.

“Talk to me.” She demanded gently. By now you were both sitting face to face with your legs crossed on the bed. Her hands were on your knees while you played with yours in your lap.

“Well,” you gestured to your neck and shook your head, Natasha nodded in understanding. She knew when to push you to talk, and when to wait patiently for you to open up. For now she would do the latter.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments before your stomach grumbled. You groaned out of embarrassment and put your face in your hands. Natasha laughed lightly.

“I’ll go make breakfast. Is that okay?.” Natasha said while patting your legs. You nodded at her and smiled softly. She kissed your forehead and she hovered over your lips before pulling away. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” You answered her by pulling her back towards you, your lips connecting with hers in a soft kiss. She smiled when the kiss ended.

“I’ll be back. I love you.”

“Love you too.” You watched as she walked out of the bedroom, and the tension released from your body. You went to the bathroom to clean yourself up and your chest tightened at the sight of your neck. A dark red and purple mark where Natasha’s hand pressed against you was present, and you knew there was no way you could hide it from anyone.

You sighed and got ready for the day.

In the kitchen, Natasha was leaning on the counter with her head in her hands. She was beating herself up for allowing the stress to consume her to the point where she hurt you. In more ways than one. She thought back to how she snapped at you, and let you fall asleep alone. Natasha thought back to how scared and small you looked when you backed away from her after she had choked you. Tears were streaming down her face as she tried to suppress her sobs.

“Nat?” She straightened up her posture at the sound of your voice and busied herself with grabbing food out of the fridge. She turned around when she heard your footsteps get louder, and she melted at the sight of you in her hoodie and sweats. They were both a bit big on you, but neither of you minded.

“Yes, detka?” She asked as she set the food on the counter. She started to get bowls and pans out as you sat down on a stool at the counter.

“You need any help with anything? I can make the eggs while you do the pancakes?” You asked hopefully, but hesitantly. Your anxiety was telling you that you didn’t want to upset her again. You watched as she sighed and your heart dropped. Her demeanor the same as last night when she snapped at you while working.

“Are you sure you’re okay to be around me?” All of your worries washed away after hearing her small voice. You realized she wasn’t mad at you, but at herself. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, and clenched your fist to stop your hands from shaking.

“I- Yes. Natasha I’m okay to be around you.” She just shook her head.

“I can read you like a book you know?” She crossed her arms and looked at you softly. “I can see how on edge you are right now, and I don’t want you to feel like that around me.” You stayed silent. “Y/n, if you need space then I think you should take it.”

You fiddled with your hands and stared at your lap. You knew she was right. The whole situation was making your anxiety go crazy, and you didn’t want to feel like that around her either. Of course, deep down you know that she would never intentionally harm you, but your mind wasn’t letting it go so easily.

“I think…” You started and kept your gaze low. “I think you’re right, but I don’t want to break up.” You could see her move closer in the corner of your eye, and you looked up at her when she was in front of you.

“We’re not breaking up, baby.” She whispered out. Your eyes locked with hers as she cupped your cheeks with her cold hands. You leaned into her touch, the heat from your cheeks sending a wave of comfort through Natasha. “I just want you to be able to sleep with out having to worry about me. Maybe I can go stay at the compound for a bit.”

Tears were building in your eyes now, and she wiped them away. “What about the spare bedroom here?” You asked meekly.

“If that’s what you’re comfortable with.” She smiled when you nodded, and you found yourself doing the same. She leaned down and pressed her lips against yours softly but passionately. She pulled away and your eyes fluttered open when she cleared her throat. “I really am sorry about yesterday.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Natty, you were having a nightmare.” You frowned at her.

“No, not about that. Well, yes about that but no. I’m sorry for snapping at you. This mission is just bringing up a lot for me, and you were right I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” You were still sitting on the stool looking up at her, and you could tell she was about to cry again so you wrapped your arms around her and nuzzled your head into her stomach.

“I forgive you, just please talk to me instead next time. Or…” You trailed off not knowing how she was going to react with your next words.

“Or what?” She asked, her hands running through your hair and keeping your head on her.

“Or you could try therapy?” You felt her hands stop their actions. “I know you said you’ve went before, but if the job is pushing you to the point where you’re acting out in your sleep then maybe it’s time to go back.” She sighed and continued to flow her hands through your hair.

“You’re right. I’ll call Pepper to see if she knows any good ones, okay?” She felt you smile and nod against her stomach, your arms squeezing her a little tighter. “Now let’s get some food into your stomach before you go all Hangry Hulk on me.” You gasped and playfully shoved her away.

“You swore you would stop calling me Hangry Hulk!” You glared at the smirk on her face and crossed your arms. “Not funny.”

“That cute little angry face of yours is just proving my point, detka.” Your face burned and she laughed as she started on the food.

After Natasha called Pepper she told you that her therapy sessions with a Dr. Raynor starts next week. She told you that Dr. Raynor has helped Bucky and still does, so Pepper is sure that she can help Natasha as well. You told her how proud of her you were for trying, and that you were still there if she needed you to be.

The next three weeks were spent with Natasha sleeping in the guest room. She’s been meeting Dr. Raynor twice a week, and Natasha could physically feel the weight leaving her shoulders after ever session.

The fourth week you finally caved and snuck into the guest room when Natasha was asleep. You woke her up and asked her to hold you, and she did so without a second thought. Your mind and heart were finally on the same page about Natasha, your anxieties no longer consuming your every thought when you were around her.

The trust you had for Natasha was never gone, but it only wavered after that night. Now though, after weeks of reassuring, comforting, and chasing away each other’s fears, the two of you were better than ever.

And you still trusted her more than anything.


Tags
3 years ago

older natty and reader in a swimming pool.

warnings: older!nat x younger!reader, fluff. SFW

The water splashes against your face, soaking the tendrils of hair that frame your cheeks, and as you giggled with a grin while looking for your girlfriend, you found her nowhere to be in sight.

You frowned. “Natty? Where’d you go?”

You were surprised when a large figure gripped your waist from under the water and lifted you. A loud squeak emitting from your sodden lips as you finally looked down and saw your girlfriend carrying you.

“Hello, my little dove.”

You grinned. “Hi, Natty. I thought you left to go sun bathe again.”

The older woman shook her head and hummed, her head pressed against your bare tummy as she twirled the two of you in the pool.

“You know I wouldn’t do that to you, my love.”

You hummed. “That’s okay, though. Wanna play Marco Polo with Steve?”

The redhead rose a brow. “I’m offended that you have to ask me!”


Tags
3 years ago

Someone Who Answers

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: A small drabble where the Reader calls Natasha in the middle of the night.

Words: 600

You weren’t sure how long it had been since someone had answered your calls or texts.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have any friends. You had plenty. They were just busy with family, and life, and work. You were happy for them. Truly. You just wanted to talk to someone. You needed someone. And they left you with no one.

No one, except for Natasha Romanoff.

Even though you had her number in your phone, even though she said, all those years ago when she’d met you during some secret operation, that you could call her at any time, you had never done anything more than glance at the number. After all, Natasha was a very, very important woman. She had better things to do. Like save the world, or kill corrupt politicians, or clean her guns, or whatever the hell the Black Widow did in her free time.

You did everything you could to not call. You went through every possible excuse. She was working, she was saving the world, she was with a friend, she was practicing martial arts. All of them fell flat when, in the middle of the night, you found yourself aching for connection, however slight.

So, despite everything, you pulled your phone out, found the number, and pressed “Call.”

The second you pressed the button, you regretted it. Your heart felt to the pit of your stomach, your breath quickened, and your palms turned sweaty. The phone rang once. You pulled the phone away, preparing to hang up. The phone rang twice. You stared at the screen, waiting for something. You weren’t sure what for. Nothing happened, you didn’t get any signal, so you reached for the “End Call” button. But before you could press the button, a voice interrupted you:

“How did you get this number?”

You instantly brought the phone back up to your ear, a smile breaking free onto your lips. Oh, how amazing it was to hear someone speaking to you. Even if said person seemed less than enthused.

You took in a deep breath and forced the words out, “You gave it to me.”

“Oh,” Natasha said, and the harshness faded from her voice. “The humanities consultant for the Paris mission.”

“Uh, yes,” you said. You barely understood what had happened. All you could remember was that you were brought into this tiny room, sat down with Natasha, and she had you tell her about a remote, cut-off culture just East of Paris. Those twenty minutes were the highlight of your career. “Sorry I called you. It’s really late.”

“I’m in Cyprus,” Natasha said, and you hummed. It was a waste even wondering why she was on the other side of the world. You’d never learn, anyway.

“Good morning, then.”

“Thank you,” she said, then a few moments later asked, “Why did you call? Do you need something?”

“No, I’m fine,” you said. After a few breaths, you mustered up the courage to say, “I just wanted to talk.”

There was a pause on the other end. You thought she had hung up or simply couldn’t bother responding, but she ended up saying, “I’m free for the next hour. We can talk.”

And that was exactly what you did. It felt amazing. Not only to talk to someone, but to talk to someone who seemed so full of stories and complexities as Natasha was amazing. Sure, some of the stories veered on the edge of being dark or unbelievable, but that didn’t bother you. You had known what you were getting into when you started to talk to her.


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Seera-li

Sera they/them |adult| I apparently write smut now so a reminder that your media consumption is your own responsibility :)

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