To Play The Fool Pt 1

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.

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.

Learning (To Trust Your Touch)

Taglist: @lynxwhispurrs

Summary: When an unexpected touch brings a realization to light, Natasha does everything to show her favorite person that it's real.

A/N: This was inspired by @missmonsters2's "Words Beneath Your Skin', a beautiful piece of art I"m not worthy of with my touch starved ass. I wanted to add my own little spin to it using my favorite assassin :3 Thank you again for giving me permission to do this <3

Warning: Open ended quote that might be interpreted as abuse. I'm not for sure, but just to be safe.

Natasha noticed.

To be fair, she is a assassin turned avenger. She notices a lot of things.

Natasha spent lifetimes learning about the human body. Where to break, where to shed blood most, vital areas that deliver poison faster than others….the list can go on.

She saw it when you visited her room. A part of the problem.

You were still new, not to the team, but to the compound. And even though everyone was mostly in and out on missions, your presence was very welcome to many.

Especially to a certain feline.

Liho was never one to welcome strangers, but your small peace offering of expensive canned tuna definitely made an impression.

Soon enough, you began to feed Liho, and her owner. Leaving small meals for both of them to find, and to keep finding you to ask for more.

You become both their favorites. And being a favorite of Natasha did allow certain perks.

“Found those limited edition chips you wanted.”

“Your shoelaces are untied,”

“Wanna go shopping?”

“I restocked the snack drawer and charged your computer.”

She pays attention as you start to settle into your new room. How you grab small snacks instead of sitting at a dinner table with the others, how you wrap yourself in a blanket when you’re in an empty living room. What snack you like best after a training session.

They’re small things, and to her credit, she was really just trying to say thank you for feeding them both. Thank you quickly turned into dates you thoroughly enjoyed.

It’s how you ended up in her room for the first time.

“I bought a few too many snacks at the store,” was the best excuse she could come up with, and she thanks whatever god there is that you bought it with that smile of yours.

Natasha’s room was interesting, simplicity mixed with sparks of modern and rustic all in one. Splashes of red and white mixed with shades of black.

“It’s pretty,”

Natasha gives you the smallest of smiles, genuine and true. “Thank you.”

Her bed is even softer. The mattress invites you, and you immediately burrow into the blankets like it’s second nature.

Meow

Liho follows suit after you open up your bag of potato chips and nestles in a spot close to you, and that night black tail swaying in pure bliss.

Then it happens.

Natasha looks at you, green eyes spotting remnants of chips resting against the corner of your lips. It doesn’t bother her, quite the contrary, you look absolutely adorable.

She brings it to your attention with a small chuckle, and hovers a finger over her face to point out the crumbs. Your focus on the movie, and perhaps looking a little too much at Natasha’s eyes and not her cue for you to wipe your face makes you brush away the opposite cheek.

A laugh escapes, and you wonder what’s so funny before she takes action herself.

Then she sees something.

How your eyes widened when you felt it. Hearing your heartbeat damn near thump out of your chest. Seeing the muscles tense up at the exact spot where the assassins hand brushes against your cheek. Feeling your face heat up at the intention, or even the very contact itself.

It’s how Natasha has her epiphany.

That you weren’t comfortable.

-

No childhood was ever really perfect, but coming to the root of it…was it really even normal?

Sure, your parents maybe made a few mistakes, but they gave you something, they gave you life. That’s probably the best gift they could give you. You didn’t need affection.

Right?

The memory of last night comes, how she…did that. Touched you. Lingering for only a few moments to the point where you thought you saw trees in those forest eyes of hers.

You look away from it, and she retracts, eyes quickly turning apologetic before you excuse yourself..

God…gardening was supposed to relax you. Not reminding you of the memory of a touch setting you off.

You gingerly touch the potting soil you laid out, placing a little in your hands and gauging the rich dirt. It’s not like grass, rooted to the ground. It’s flexible, vulnerable and-

Meow?

“Liho?”

You dust your hands off, and allow them to hover over the feline. You feel like a ghost, so close to her, but yet-

“Your momma must be mad at me, hm?”

Meow

“I know…not the smartest move to avoid her.” You allow your fingertips to ghost over the fur slowly. “I just…”

Liho makes an effort to listen. To stay as a friend, as a ear to listen.

“I don’t know.”

It’s an honest answer. One that makes Natasha’s heart break a little inside as she waits for you to finish your session with Liho.

She thinks about it for a moment, as she makes her presence known after you stop talking. A small wave and a soft “Hello” before she scoops liho in her arms and away from you.

The words slip out before you can think.

“Please…wait.”

Natasha stands still, liho jumping out of her arms in an instant and running back to your side. Natasha looks to the empty spot next to you in the green house, and when she looks at you this time, it’s different.

You see her ask. Green eyes waiting, despite everything inside her wanting to embrace and comfort you, for permission to get close to you.

You nod, and it’s the best decision you made today when you see her get comfortable on the ground.

“I’m sorry.” She starts. “I never meant to make you feel like I was going to hurt you. I would never hurt you.”

She feels like it’s her fault. For making you like this, so scared of this, of-

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Her eyebrows knit together, and she frowns as Liho makes her way to the redhead and nuzzles her thigh.

“What happened yesterday? Did I make you feel uncomfortable?”

You place your hands on your lap, the texture of your blue jeans giving some imitation of stimulation. The feeling is awkward and does little to ease your nerves, it’s baffling that jeans don’t have any other purpose than being expensive, but Natasha’s hand makes you stop.

Her hand is right in front of you. The early afternoon sunshine rests on her palm, extending towards you. She makes a conscious effort not to touch any part of your body, no matter what this urge is consuming her from the inside out.

Natasha only looks at you, and keeps her hand extended.

It’s another question.

I want to understand…please talk to me.

You take her hand, and allow your fingers to trace the lines on her palm before taking another step to full on hand-holding.

“It’s not you.” You shake your head. “Never you.”

She’s relieved, and quietly thanks a god as she looks at you. As she searches for those answers with you.

“I just…it felt so…different.”

She quirks an eyebrow at that. Before gently squeezing your hand. “Different how?”

“It felt…” You bit your lower lip in thought.

So soft, and gentle…how the warmth of her fingers rested on your cheek, her thumb swiping away the crumbs, how you felt so safe keeping eye contact with her when those few seconds felt like an eternity.

It felt like you wanted so much more of it. That..that touch.

But it’s wrong, in your mind.

It’s wrong to yourself to yearn for that feeling, to want it and to never let it go. To cherish its warmth like a fire on a cold winters day.

You find yourself not answering it. That feeling that keeps yelling at you to indulge in it.

“It felt so…new.” You explained. “Like it wasn’t going to leave. Like it was safe.”

Natasha nods. “Did it ever feel safe before?”

She waits for your answer, and feels the warmth of your hand slip away from her.

“Not everyone is like you,” You whisper. “Not everyone is good.”

She gets it.

-

Natasha never felt like this.

So determined, so hellbent on showing you something you’ve been denied for so long.

Take it slow, she reminds herself.

Natasha starts small. Hand and eye contact. A good start.

You see her extend her hand like she’s did in the green house during breakfast oneway, her forest orbs looking at you with that question.

Do you want this? It's okay if you don't.

Your decision is like that game show with the music for the final question. You’re over and under-thinking, worrying and doubting.

But she stays still and true.

You take her hand as many times as she extends it, and every decision getting just a little shorter than the last. She sees you start to intertwine your fingers with hers eventually, and the eye contact remains through it all.

You find yourself looking at her eyes so much. Sometimes it’s to check if she changed her mind, or if you did something wrong. But she brings you back with those green eyes of hers, an affirmation that it’s okay.

You're safe with me

She builds a foundation this way. Natasha slowly starts to stay a little longer by your side, she finds you starting to look for that feeling. She builds from hand holding, to sparring together, and from that, hugging.

She loves it when she gets to hug you.

The feeling of safety always washes over you when she wraps her arms around you, like she doesn’t want to let go. The subtle squeeze she gives you proved her point when Bucky called her out on it.

She didn’t want to let go. She never does.

Natasha slowly and consistently continues to build that foundation, and takes it at your pace. She’s patient, and attentive.

It gets longer, the contact.

You start to hold Liho for longer periods of time as Natasha sits next to you when you watch movies. Your fingers grazing over her fur as the assassin watches with adoration.

Hugs quickly became late night cuddling, and god it was heaven for you both.

You allowed yourself to initiate small touches. Brief hugs with the team as a greeting whenever in passing, high fives when Bucky says something funny at lunch, actually going to lunch instead of hiding in your room.

You became a permanent guest at Natasha’s bed, and you began sitting a tiny bit closer to her every time. Sometimes you’d lay on her lap as she braided your hair, others would be more comfortable sitting positions if anything else.

She sees a shift of sorts when you’re in bed with her one night.

The television show was long forgotten about ten minutes into the series, and she sees your crinkled brow under the covers. You’re not frustrated, far from it actually, and she’s relieved when she hears your heartbeat is steady.

Your body moves on its own accord. Gently shifting your position to sit up. Natasha immediately locks eyes with you, and turns down the volume with her other hand.

“Can you hold me?”

Her answer is a smile, and her eyes softening before meeting your own.

"May I?' She asks.

You give a nod, before she adjusts herself. Her movements aren’t as quick as her reflexes, she gives you the opportunity to see everything she’s doing, and the power to stop this.

You feel her hands brush against your sleep shirt, the warmth leaving as soon as it came. Her movements stop, as she gives you a moment to take in the result of her ministrations.

She’s under you, so many strands of red hair you try not count splayed all over her pillows, her hands hovering over the small of your back. Her eyes never leaving yours for a second.

“Is this-“

Her breath hitches when you take the initiative. Your hands find hers like your life depends on it, and she feels your body relax under her when you find the missing piece.

You see her look at you, and there’s something different about her.

You're beautiful

You both move in sync, you reach down as she rises to connect your foreheads together.

“How does this feel?”

Natasha’s voice is a mere whisper in the dimly illuminated room. Her raspy tone is prominent, calming, and intoxicating all at the same time. Hands ghost against your waist, holding you steady.

You lean in closer, your lips inches apart from hers.

“It feels like you..”

It does, everything feels like Natasha. From the way she holds you, to how she’s kissing you right now in this moment.

Her lips are velvet against yours, full of devotion, and adoration just for you. You take it all in, you feel it all in the kiss, and it’s euphoric.

It feels so…good, and warm, and soft and safe.

And you never want it to stop feeling this way.

You both pull away, and Natasha gives you a different smile, one that’s like the sun.

“It’s real…” she whispers incredulously. “This is real.”

“It is.” You whisper

It truly is.

You both find each other’s hands, and press your foreheads together.

Natasha squeezes, ever so softly.

“It’s always real when I’m with you”

Sea Turtles Have Stage Fright || Natasha Romanoff

Fandom: MCU - Black Widow 2021 time period [no spoilers]

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha loves, respects and adores you. But when it comes to your sleep talking, she can't help but play along and see what you have to say.

A.N: I didn't know I was going to be trying fictober this year given my current headspace so dont be surprised if this is my only contribution this year lol. And I for sure don't even know if I'm gonna officially write for mcu cause... yeah, but I still wanted to try this! Specifically cause I was inspired and also every time I have a desire to read Natasha fics, or literally any other adult wlw x reader it's smut and I just want some fluff 😔 no disrespect to people who enjoy that ofc! Edit: and dammit, this is late. Oh well, I tried :/

Fictober Prompt: "what did I say?"

Warnings: my first [possibly only??] time writing marvel, let alone Natasha. Also Google translate, I'm so sorry Russian speakers [moya lyubov' = my love]

The trip out seemed longer this time around.

Maybe it was the fact Natasha was hardwired to wake before the asscrack of dawn and the hard-to-see roads made the drive seem like a chore— Her eyes land on the empty passenger seat like a knee-jerk response before jumping back to the road. —Or maybe it was the lack of company.

Last Natasha left you, you were half asleep in your shared queen bed, lips parted in the beginnings of a snore and your reach meeting an empty mattress. Between the two of you, you were always the heavier sleeper. Not that she minded, in situations like these — ie, a lot of time on her hands — it gave her more downtime. And there was a lot of that these days it would seem.

The rhythmic tick-tock-tick of the right turn signal overlapped the squeak of rubber being pulled across the glass with the wipers as she sat waiting. Her mind was full and racing, her heart heavy since she killed the radio going on about the Avenger's breakup. Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson still on the run — that was all she needed to know. They were safe. And all she wanted now was to forget about unpacking the groceries in the back seat and getting straight back into bed with you, crawling under the covers, and forget her troubles.

Natasha found herself wondering the same thing she often did when she found a moment alone these days; would the two of you still be able to have the life you always wanted together? Sure, you were getting to see the world but you were still in hiding after all.

The question kept her occupied the rest of the drive and to no surprise, the trailer Mason had secured for you two was still standing when she returned. Her eyes swept the area as she yanked the keys from the ignition, all the more eager to return inside. The cold was seeping through her jacket and down her neck, and the morning air smelled of dew and if she listened hard enough she could make out the sounds of the stream nearby. The trailer wasn't much warmer — the puny excuse for a backup generator did little to run everything, including the heater even in overtime — but this made the return to bed more tantalizing.

Dropping the keys and grocery bags on the counter — and doing another routine sweep of all her carefully placed silent alarms — Natasha finally gave in to temptation and headed back for the hallway. She knew she wouldn't fall back to sleep, but god, was she dead tired.

She winced internally at the creak of the door but knew better than to worry; sure enough, you were still fast asleep just as she left you. Expertly entangled in the many layers of quilts and thicken linen — your limbs woven in and out not even she could wrestle you out of — and deep in sleep. A smile crept onto her lips and she rolled her eyes, slipping off her shoes and jacket before taking a seat on her side of the bed.

How the hell had you become such an important piece of her life? She wondered fondly.

"Bedhog," she grumbled despite the smile, slipping herself under your arm and back into what she could salvage of her side of the mattress.

"Mm-hmm,"

Her brows shot up a bit in surprise and as best as she could without moving, she angled her head to get a good look at your sleeping face inches from her pillow. Had you heard her? Her little bed hog slept through just about everything.

"Wait..." you plea, your eyes still closed and your brows furrowed in a pressing manner.

Her smirk tripled in size. Oh no, this was much better than you waking.

"...no, don't." You said, growing angry at whatever force in your dreams you were facing.

Years of sharing the same bed with you and Natasha had long since accepted she would never know what to expect. Dreaming Y/n, for example, has taught her vital tidbits and life lessons like; don't put cereal in your purse, and also sea turtles have stage fright. Oh, how Nat longed for the days she could capture these moments on her phone and keep them forever. Another disadvantage to living off the grid.

"Don't what, my love?" She cooed in a voice lower than a whisper. She lovingly glid the pads of her fingertips across the back of your hand laying on her stomach, careful not to pull your too much from sleep but enough to get your attention.

"He..." you took a deep breath, one Natasha's amusement hinged on as she waited for you to continue.

Natasha didn't want to jump to conclusions but she also didn't want you to be suffering through any unpleasant dreams either. She had gotten you to talk like this before, she just needed a little more...

"He what?"

You were fighting so hard to tell her — to fight through your subconscious and relay to her whatever message you needed to about what this dastardly He was putting you through. You were growing more and more upset, your face contorting and twitching with anger and your voice tight and upset.

"He ate my birthday cake,"

A soft scowl came to her face as she brushed a stray hair from yours, tracing her knuckles down your jawline. "He didn't!"

"Mmm,"

"Who's this bastard, moya lyubov?"

You didn't answer, she had put too much in it and you were slipping back under. She waited only a moment and asked again, trying not to laugh.

"What happened, Y/n?"

Your expression hardened again, clearly distraught at the mention.

"Pope Francis ate my birthday cake,"

...Okay. That was a new one.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

You awoke to the smell of ground coffee and frying eggs; you could smell the aroma wafting in from the small kitchenette before you even opened your eyes and you knew Natasha was up. Arching your back you gave your arms and legs a long stretch, your balled fists digging into your girlfriend's pillow as you let out a yawn.

Eager to join her, you slipped out of bed and pulled on a nearby hoodie draped over a chair, making your way out. Your bare feet stuck to the cold wooden floors as you padded in, squinting against the light of day to see Natasha at the stove.

"Morning hot stuff," she quipped, flipping her eggs and taking a sip from her mug of coffee. You hummed a groggy laugh, knowing full well you looked as if you crawled out of hibernation — not far from the truth — but you knew she meant it anyway.

"Morning," you passed over her shoulder and gave a peck on the cheek before trudging over to the fridge and pulling it open for a once over. "Thanks for getting groceries,"

"Eh," she shrugged. "I couldn't go back to sleep. Gave me something to do."

You looked over your shoulder, grabbing a protein shake and closing the fridge. "I'm sorry. You should have woke me up, I would have kept you company,"

Natasha smiled down at the eggs cooking in the pan before reaching over and killing the stove, moving them to another burner as she retrieved a bowl. "Oh, no, I couldn't do that." She smirked.

You paused mid-sip, growing suspicious. You knew Natasha all too well and that shit-eating smirk meant she had something over you. "...what? What is it?"

"I didn't say anything, moya lyubov,"

Your eyes thined in a scowl. "What, Nat, just tell me,"

"But I don't want to further ruin your birthday fun,"

"Birthday? It's not my birthday--" your face dropped and you slammed the drink on the counter beside you in realization. "Oh no,"

Natasha didn't say anything, but all the confirmation you got was the loving, but knowing look of mischief in her eyes as she peered at you over her sip of coffee. It was all you needed to know. You were sleep-talking again. It always brought out a teasing side to her that you not so secretly loved. What you didn't love was the embarrassment that came with it.

"Alright, let's hear it," you sighed, folding your arms over your chest and smiling tiredly. "what did I say?"

Flashing a conceding smile, Natasha placed her steaming mug and bowl of eggs on the counter beside her before crossing the kitchen to wrap you in a harrowing embrace.

"My darling," she began. Her tone would have worried you if you weren't used to how dramatic she got when she was teasing. She wrapped her strong arms around you and tucked herself into you in a protective manner. "never again will the dastardly Pope Francis steal your birthday cake or any celebratory desserts for that matter. I will make sure of it."

You let a weak laugh, burying your face in her hug and her arms snaked further around you. You could practically see the grin widening on her face to mirror yours as the dream came back to you in bits. Pulling back, you met her gaze — her hazel green eyes full of love — and your lips met in a warm, chaste kiss.

"My hero,"

Love You While You're Tired; N. Romanoff

pairing; Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

summary; you're stressed, and after waking up from a nap, natasha helps you de-stress

warnings; smut, soft!Nat, mommy!Nat, fingering, mirror sex, multiple orgasms, thigh riding, strap-on use, lots and lots of praise, oral, crying because of overstimulation

i did notice like a lot of my Nat fics are smut? I'll have to get a good fluff fic out there soon.

translation- красивая девушка/ krasivaya devushka; beautiful girl. I think?? correct me if I'm wrong

Natasha laughed at you when you waddled out of the room, only in a long tshirt. You gave her a pouty face but shuffled your feet towards her.

The older woman opened her arms, "C'mere, sleepy girl," Natasha said. You didn't give it any second thought, pushing yourself into her. Instantly, your hands found themselves under her shirt and Nat tensed at how cold they were. "You feeling okay?" You nodded, humming sleepily. Natasha nodded, understanding you were tired.

"Did you take a good nap?" Natasha continued the one-sided conversation. You let out another hum, climbing onto her lap. "Mhh. How about stress? Feeling better?" You shrugged.

"It helped, still feel tense though," You whispered, finally letting Natasha hear your groggy voice. The redhead's long fingers rubbed your back, listening to you.

"Need mommy to help?'' Natasha whispered in your ear. You let out a soft whine, "Use your words baby, I know you can," The woman encouraged.

"Want mommy to help me, please." You pulled at her shirt. Natasha nodded, slightly bucking her hips, making you now aware of the strap she was wearing. The woman positioned you on her thigh, and gave you a kiss.

''What do you want first, красивая девушка?" Natasha asked, letting the Russian name fall from her mouth.

"Your mouth, mommy," You let out a soft plead. Natasha picked you up, leading you to the bedroom. She sat you on the bed, tilting your head up.

"You're only my girl, right?" Natasha ran her hands through your hair.

"Only yours, Natasha," You whispered back. The taller woman gave you a kiss before slightly picking you up and removing the shirt from under you. Slowly she had removed the clothing, taking you in. She got on her knees in front of you, moving your panties to the side. You watched as she carefully spread your legs, giving you doe eyes as she her tongue went to lap you up.

Her tongue came in contact with your folds, causing you to let out a soft moan. You started to make a makeshift ponytail with her hair, so you could watch her devour you. Her lips found your clit, giving it a kiss before she took it in her mouth and sucked. "Oh god, Nat," You moaned, slightly arching your back. She nibbled just a tad before plungind her tongue into your hole. Letting your body fall to the bed, you squeezed her thighs together.

Her tongue curled in all the right spots, sometimes even leaving your cunt to suck your clit then going back after. Finally, your own hand found your clit, rubbing at the pace Natasha was thrusting her tongue.

"Mommy! I-I'm gonna-"

"You don't need permission from me tonight, красивая девушка." Natasha encouraged. With those words your back arched and you came. The Russian helped you ride it out, giving you ua soft peck on your thighs. "You are such a good girl, y'know that?" Natasha asked, standing up and making you sit up.

"Thank you," You accepted the compliment, pecking her lips. You were even more tired than before now, and you wanted to go back to. bedm Still though, the other half wanted Natasha to take away all the stress with her talented body.

She sat down next to you, pulling you into her lap, your back flush against her front. She was looking at you in the mirror, your legs spread and hairnall over the place. "Mommy is gonna give you her fingers, alright?" Natasha husked, "But you're not gonna look away from this mirror, I want you to see how beautiful you are." Natasha kissed down your neck and plunged two fingers into you. You threw your head back, gripping her knees. You remembered the task at hand, adjusting your head so you could watch as Natasha pumped her fingers.

You kept bucking your hips up into her, like a bitch in heat. It wasn't at the same pace, her fingers much more faster than your hips plus she was more awake than you. "Natasha, mommy, please keep going," You bit her neck, almost screaming as her thumb rubbed your clit.

You were sensitive from your last orgasm, so after a few more thrusts you came undone. Natasha wasn't done though, she kept thrusting into you until you were on the brink of a next orgasm, screaming her name. "Natasha! Holy fuck I'm gonna cum again-" You watched as her fingers curled into you, and you sobbed as you curled into a ball and came again.

"I'm so proud baby, it's alright, it's okay... You're such a good girl," Natasha praised, kissing your back. You almost felt needier at her words especially when she pulled her fingers out. Hissing, you started to grind against her thigh.

The woman was mesmerized about how much you could take. How needy you were for her. Your clit had hit her thigh just perfectly and the feelings you felt were... ethereal.

The coil in your stomach tightened and you started to see stars. Your eyes rolled back and your back arched in ecstacy. It was indescribable, the feelings you were feeling. The coil that felt so tight, so ready to burst, finally did.

Your eyes popped open, so you could see what Natasha was seeing in the mirror. Your eyes flickered down to your pussy, which was covered in your own juices, along with Natasha's thigh.

Legs still shaking, Natasha pulled you off her and laid you down. "Let's clean you up?" She teased, dropping to her own knees. Holy shit, this woman was not giving up.

First, she lapped at your legs, cleaning up the mess you made on yourself. Natasha had mumbled something along the lines of, "Such a needy girl, needing mommy to clean up your mess," And you found it so hot, the words coming out of her mouth.

Slowly though, her tongue was licking your pussy. Your hands had found her red locks as she started nipping at your overly-sensitive clit. Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes, but you found so much pleasure in Natasha. You'd repay her after.

Two of her talented fingers found your pussy once more, and while her tongue slipped into you, her thumb rubbed your clit.

"Oh, Mommy! Shit," Your thighs clenched over her head as you pulled her hair, something to distract you from the pleasurable pain. You were already so close.

Her tongue hit your g-spot oh so perfectly, and once again you were cumming. This time though, you were sobbing. You could help but cry out as you came, tears spilling down your face.

Natasha pulled away, quickly pulling you into her arms as she praised you for being such a good girl. Telling you she was sorry for making you cry, mommy was just trying to make her little girl feel better. You had dismissed the apologies, telling her she was the best person ever, and now you were in the hands almost another orgasm.

Natasha was pounding into you, her strap relentless. Your breasts were against the mattress and Natasha had your hands pinned above your head.

"O-oh, you're so tight baby," Natasha rubbed you clit roughly as she was on the brink of her orgasm. Your body shook, and you twisted your hand to hold hers. You couldn't imagine what Natasha was feeling right now, she told you before how much it turned her on watching you cum, so you could only imagine bliss she was feeling.

"Cum with me Mommy," You whispered and the both of you fell apart. Natasha came with a loud moan of your name, and your voice, that was slowly becoming raw from how much noise you made today, silently screamed. Natasha had fallen against you, and slowly, you drifted to bed.

For that older!Nat request:

Reader is an experiment project of HYDRA and Nat was the one who rescued her but with very little to none interaction with anyone all she retain was her childish qualities.

She'll be very scared of men and wary with others except Natasha. She'll mostly follow and cling to her everywhere and she'll only eat, speak and interact if Nat gave her permission 😬

I really don't know where to go with this lol I just want a shit clingy and dependent reader 🤣 thank you so much!

warning: older!nat, experiment!reader, fluff. SFW

“Tasha?”

Her small voice broke the redhead out of her reverie and when she looked down, found a girl years her senior cuddled up against her arm, her lips turned softly.

Natasha reached out to caress her cheek, her little bunny’s cheek scarred from the abuse she had taken through her youth during her time with HYDRA, and when the redhead touched her, she melted into her hold.

“What’s wrong, sunshine?”

She beamed at the pet name and even flushed in embarrassment. But when she calmed and relaxed, her eyes darted from Natasha to Tony who stood in the hall.

“What do you want Tony?”

“Banner hulked out... Again.”

The irritation was evident in Tony’s tone and Natasha’s was present as she rolled her eyes. She turned to her ball of sunshine, curled up against her arm in the comfort of their couch.

“It’ll be quick. Tony will be with you, okay?”

She shook her head furiously and whined, reaching out to grab the redhead’s muscly arm and tug on it.

“No, please.”

Natasha sighed, she couldn’t bring her girl with her, even if she wanted to. Bringing someone so fragile to a place so destructive, let alone with a Hulked out Bruce? She wouldn’t risk it, even if it mean disappointing you and making you sad for a little bit just to know you were safe.

“You can’t come, sunshine.” Natasha heard her whine, her frown deepening in tow as she shook her head in displeasure. “It’s too dangerous. Please, be a good girl for Tony, okay? He likes you. He thinks you’re pretty cool.”

She gave Natasha a look of doubt. “Really?”

Natasha nodded, beaming with a smile. “Don’t you find her cool, Stark?” When the redhead turned to the playboy, billionaire, she gave him a scowl. “Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do!” He neared the couch but just stayed far enough that Natasha’s girl wouldn’t crouch in fear of him. “I won’t be a bother. I’ll be like you! I’ll do whatever Natasha tells me!”

The redhead gave him a shove to his shoulders and when she felt the grip on her arm loosen, she was able to slip out to stand in front of you.

“I love you, okay? I will be back, no more than half an hour. That’s thirty minutes, sunshine. Starting when I walk down that hallway,” she points, “you’re gonna count for me, alright?”

She nods. And Natasha grins, leaning to kiss her sunshine on the tip of her nose. A giggle erupts and tickles the redhead’s nose, making her scrunch.

“I love you too.”

Y/n: when I was in 3rd grade, we had google earth on the computers. There was also a flight simulator and I would ask kids for their addresses. I would then show them the flight simulator and proceed to fly the plane into their house telling them I destroyed it remotely

Nat muttering: and I’m the bad guy

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.

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝

────────────────────────

the hotel on cadaver street blurbs masterlist

serial killer!natasha x reader

this is a dark fic: please refer to the disclaimer

summary ➞ “you act like you’re ashamed of me but you’re soaked through your clothes and it’s not because of the rain.”

disclaimer ➞ strong language, depictions of murder + blood, smut, possessive behavior, knife kink, dirty talk (praise + pet names), hints of power bottom!reader + service top!natasha, fingering

a/n ➞ nothing else compares to my love from serial killer!natasha. this piece of work is not to be copied or translated anywhere. thank you for reading!!! comments and reblogs appreciated <3

Natasha had never been one to panic. Or frighten, even. She was a sadist whose identity had been incised by years of watching her own innocence fall away from her until there was so little humanity left that she really didn’t know if she counted as human.

So, to put it simply, it wasn’t fear that made her bones quake as she listened to the high-pitched squeak that the hotel’s basement door emitted as it opened - it was excitement.

She could hear you stall at the top of the stairs and figured it was due to the smell of blood catching your senses. Her heart - assuming she still had one - pounded in retaliation to the metal door clanking shut and the creaks of old wood under your rain-soaked footsteps that followed.

Naturally, when your feet planted onto the cement flooring, your eyes landed on her. She met your gaze, emerald headlights flashing back at you in the dark. Then, as her hand circled tighter around her knife’s handle and knuckles popped under the pressure of her grip, your eyes fell away to the pools of blood surrounding her feet.

She was proud of the horrors she had committed. If you would have opened your mouth to ask her why she had done it, she would have said it was ‘for you’ or ‘in your honor’.

The shell of a man that lie limp on the floor behind her was cold now, lost of whatever warmth had surged through his veins only hours ago. But those hours ago, he had been a lonely shadow at the end of the bar who sat a little too close to you and let his hand longer a little too long at the small of your back and let his lips get a little too eager at the lobe of your ear as your girlfriend watched from across the room.

If Natasha was sane, now would be the time that she’d start spewing with apologies and excuses as to why she’d committed such a crime. But Natasha wasn’t sane; it wasn’t the first time she’d done this and it would take a trip to hell and back for her to apologize for anything. She was always right in her own mind.

Instead, she blinked at you with hollow eyes for a number of moments as you took in the sight of her and then her lips curled into a lopsided smirk. She stepped towards you with her knife raised at her side.

Your hand shot up in an attempt to halt her steps, “You’re dirty.” She scoffed your words, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she continued her voyage towards you.

“Natasha, you’re dirty.” You repeated in annoyance when her chest collided into your outstretched hand. The blood on her shirt was warm still, coating the palm of your hand in a sea of red and you frowned before using her suit jacket to clean yourself off.

She didn’t care much for your distaste and was on you before you had the chance to do anything about it. Her head fell into the crook of your neck to nibble at your pulse point, “You like me this way.” You sucked in a puff of air through your teeth, grabbing her by the swells of her shoulders. “You’re covered in blood, Natalia!”

She smiled into your flesh at the harsh use of her real name, tongue stroking up the side of your throat and flicking against the shell of your ear. “I did this for you. That bastard was bothering you and I fixed it.” You could feel the tip of her knife graze against your stomach.

There was a lot about the situation that should have alarmed you; the blood, the crazed look in your girlfriend’s eyes, the body that you were sure was lingering somewhere in the shadows behind her. But the blade carving against the bottom hem of your shirt was not one of them.

Clink. One of your buttons went spiraling across the cement floor as she cut it free from the fabric; followed by another, and another. “I did this for you.” She repeated, softened and low as she felt the goosebumps that she had already known would rise onto your skin.

“You need to be more careful.” You cooed as you finally gave into her game and your hand found it’s place in the hair at the back of her head, fingertips massaging at her scalp. “You’ve made a mess.” You gestured at the blood behind her and the footprints from the bottoms of her boots

She didn’t mind the mess, or bother to acknowledge that you had even said anything about it. She popped the last button from your top and let it fall open to reveal you the unmarked skin of your stomach. “So pretty, my girl is.” She hummed in satisfaction, the cold metal of the blade dipping into the valley of your bellybutton.

“Thank you, baby.” You cooed, stretching your stomach towards her as the knife prodded against your skin. Her stomach leapt excitedly at your silent invitation to continue before she moved the weapon down, carefully and erotically slow, until it was slicing away at the zipper of your pants and opening the fabric to her.

Her free hand dipped into your underwear and she bathed in the breathy moan you rewarded her with when her fingers parted through your folds. “You act like you’re ashamed of me but you’re soaked through your clothes and it’s not because of the rain.” The smirk was clearly painted in her words.

Your hand came forward and wrapped around her jaw, forcing her to meet your eyes, “How about you stop talking and make it up to me proper?” You encouraged, tongue peaking out to lash against her parted lips.

She shivered and parted ways with the knife, letting it loudly clatter to the ground in harmony with your shuttered whimper as her fingers sunk into your cunt. “Gonna make you feel so good, butterfly.”

not all of it is bad i think….…. we are going to be okay i think.

I love the banter between them they're assholes for eachother in the nicest way possible lmao💕 Natasha avoiding chores and casually talking about killing a man is just so funny😭 Also the mommy kink... Her calling us a good girl I cant do this today😭😭

idiot4idiot

pairing: nat/f!reader

summary:

Natasha Romanov: superspy extraordinaire, Avenger, routine trespasser, and chore-avoider. Oh, and a romantic.

notes: fluff, couldnt get mediocre gfs out of my head<3

series: one, two, ao3

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