Natasha Romanoff Fluff - Blog Posts

Marvel Masterlist !

I only write x fem reader or fem oc

I will write for other marvel characters if requested so send some requests I’m open to all ideas and such

💋- smut

🧸- fluff

🎀- blurb

🥀- angst

Natasha Romanoff

pretty thing 💋

Wanda Maximoff

Yelena Belova

Kate Bishop

Pretty Thing

pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem

context: After you refuse to give up any information, the black widow finds another way force it out of you

warnings: choking, fingering, forced orgasm, smut, corruption kink

At first you thought you had a chance against her, your plan was foolproof or so you thought. When you were told by your boss to take out the one and only Black Widow, you were terrified. But the plan your boss gave you installed confidence so you went. In the beginning you thought you could actually get her, breaking into her home unannounced.

But she heard you, she found you and she got you, I mean of course she did she was the Black Widow after all. She grabbed you before you could even register that she as behind you.

Now here you were sat on the chair, hands tied behind your back, legs tied to the chair and a cloth shoved in your mouth.

The read head walks around in a circle like a predator does its pray, her strong eyes watching every small move you make. She studies you trying to figure you out. Your big eyes stare back at her terrified, for all you knew she could kill you right now, she had a reason too after all you broke into her home trying to kill her.

Her eyes bore into yours as she bends down right infront of you “Now little thing did you really think you could get me?” she asks.

Not moving a muscle you stare back at her not daring to say a word, not that you could with the cloth in your mouth.

The widow smirks “I’ll make you talk” she says walking away from you. Her back faces you as you try to break free from the ropes tying you down. It goes to no use as she turns around blade in her hand “Now when I take this out of your mouth you better not scream or I’ll cut you” she threatens holding the knife to your throat.

Slowly she pulls the cloth out of your mouth throwing it beside her. You swallow your spit mouth dry as you cough slightly. Her eyes bore into yours as she pushes the knife harder into your neck, but not hard enough to draw blood “Now tell me suka, what were you trying to do?” she asks you her other hand coming to hold your jaw and make you look at her.

Staring into her green eyes you keep your mouth shut, staring at her blankly. You know if you have up any information they’d kill you on the spot.

“Oh no we can’t have you all quiet can we? Not at all now I’ll ask again, what were you trying to do?” Natasha asks her knife pushing deeper in your skin causing a few drops of blood drip down the knife.

Whimpering slightly you drop your eyes down to the floor still refusing to speak. Her mouth comes close to your ear her breath fanning the side of your face “Oh come on little thing speak for me, let me hear that pretty voice” she husks in your ear her hot breath on the side of your face.

Keeping your mouth shut, you can’t stop the heat the pools between your legs. Your thighs clench together at her voice and your eyes falter slightly.

She noticed and laughs “This turns you on pretty? Huh guess we could have fun” she smirks moving her lips to your neck kissing the side of it, moving the knife down onto the floor.

You stifle a moan as her free hand moves to your thigh rubbing up and down. Her hand moves higher and higher until it’s at the waistband of your pants “Pretty little thing arn’t you” she says moving away from your neck to look at your face.

Her face comes closer to yours her lips almost touching yours as she stares at you. Her hand moves into your pants, her fingers rub your folds above your panties “Your so wet you do like this don’t you?” she asks feeling the wet spot on your underwear.

She moves your underwear to the side slipping her fingers through your folds “F-fuck” you stutter your chests falling up and down as your breath heavily.

Her lips turn up into a smile “So you can speak dekta” she mumbles pushing her two fingers on your clit. Keeping pressure there she watched as your face starts to crumble “Come on speak for me and I’ll make you feel good pretty thing” she tells you pushing harder on your clit.

“What- what do you want me to say?” You ask her breathlessly.

Natasha brings her face closer to yours closing the gap between you two as she kisses your lips. She dominates the kiss pushing her tongue in your mouth exploring your mouth her fingers move down prodding at your hole.

Abruptly she pulls away from the kiss “Tell me what you want dekta” she commands her green eyes boring into your waiting for your response.

She didn’t think this was how things would have went between you both but she wasn’t complaining. In her eyes you were gorgeous and she truly did wonder why you tried to kill her knowing how strong she was. She liked your confidence and how hard you tried to stay strong but she needed to see you break, to crumble under her, for her to corrupt you.

“I-I want you to, make me feel good please Natasha— please” You beg her just wanting to feel good, the ache between your legs growing by the second.

The widow nods “Of course dekta I’ll make you feel good” she smirks shoving two of her fingers into you without warning.

Your jaw drops as you moan your body quivering slightly as her two long fingers stretch you out.

Her other hand comes to hold your neck, her fingers wrap around almost fully as she holds you in place.

Natasha’s fingers pump in and out of quickly as she squeezes your neck stopping the moans from leaving your lips.

“Come on pretty thing speak to me, tell me how I make you feel” She commands her fingers curling inside of you.

Taking in a deep strained breath with her fingers still around your throat “F-fells so good Tasha— so good” you tell her the best you could without whimpering.

Smirking she starts pumping her fingers deeper into you hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars.

Squeezing harder around your neck she stops your airflow. She watching as your wide eyes stare at her terrified, your hands trying to pull out of the restraints. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out for a second she stares at you before letting go.

Finally being able to breathe you suck in air, filling your lungs “W-why did— why did you?” you can’t even finish your question through your breathing.

“Because I like watching crumble under me dekta, just look so pretty like that” She whispers her fingers speeding up, her thumb comes to rub your clit quickly matching her thrusts.

Your walls squeeze around her fingers “Please, please let me cum” you beg her your breathing picking up once more.

Watching you for a moment she nods “Go on pretty thing fall apart on my fingers” she tells you pushing down on your clit.

You let go letting yourself fall apart as you cum on her fingers with a loud moan. Her eyes watch your face as your jaw drops eyes staring into hers.

Your juices cost her fingers as she slowly pulls them out of you before putting them into her mouth. She sucks your juices off of them moaning “Fuck dekta you taste so sweet” she tells you after pulling her fingers out of her mouth.

She slowly moved her face closer to yours once more her breath fanning your lips “Now tell me pretty thing, why were you here in the first place?” she asks you.

I don’t want your pity, I just want somebody near me

Natasha Romanoff x Reader 

Words: 1k 

Warnings: talks of depression/general sadness. Some swearing. Self-indulgence to the max.

A/N: This is my first fic ever so please go easy on me. Also I wrote this at 2am while listening to Mitski which is a warning all on its own.

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i read your dog tags fic and i have always thought the whole dog tags thing is hot but you think you could do one w natasha? an au where she was a soldier or wte and just a different plot or something idc i just think it’d be so hot for natasha

i don't really know about soldier type stuff so i did it as though she got the dog tags from working at shield - hope that's okay anyway :)

original dog tags fic with carol danvers is here

quiet

natasha romanoff x reader

warnings - smut; daddy kink, thigh riding, necklace as a gag, top!natasha, kinda sex in a public place, i think that's it

word count - 1149

The mission today had been emotionally exhausting for you considering your history with Hydra, having to go back to the base you’d been imprisoned in until just a few years ago. It had gone well though, nobody was injured, you just felt a little down.

You sighed as you slumped into the seat beside Natasha, instantly seeking comfort by resting your head on her shoulder, she kissed your head as you nuzzled into her neck readying for the long flight back.

“You okay, princess?” She murmured against you, feeling the shrug you gave her in response, trailing her fingers over your back down to your hip. “Want me to make you feel better?”

You hummed against her neck pressing a kiss to the skin beneath her ear, “Please daddy, make me feel good.” You mumbled beside her ear with a pout, she choked back a groan at the back of her throat at the words, digging her fingers into your hip to pull you up with her.

Neither of you paid any mind to the others, not caring of any funny looks you may have been receiving as she pulled you towards a secluded area of the quinjet out of sight; she pushed your back against a wall peppering kisses over your face, melding her lips with yours eagerly.

She held you by your waist as she kissed along your jaw, grazing her teeth over your skin as you held her close to your body, desperately clinging to her as though she could float away. Your needy hands wandered, fiddling with the zip of her tactical suit and tugging it down letting your hands brush over the soft skin of her chest, the glistening silver metal of her dog tags she’s worn since she joined Shield dangling against her, resting in the valley of her breasts.

She held the back of your head when you kissed across the skin, sucking at the flesh of her breasts that spilled out of the top of her bra, letting you revel in the taste of her skin - wanting anything to help you feel better. She yanked you back by your hair with a hiss at an overly eager bite to her skin, a dark mark no doubt being left behind.

You pouted to her innocently with your lips swollen red, mischievous smirk tugging at your mouth when she looked at you with a glare, eyes darkened and lustful. She pulled the zip of your suit, yanking the material down your body exposing your bra clad torso, closing the space between you with her lips attacking your neck. She slipped her hand beneath your bra, roughly pinching your nipple between her thumb and finger with a twist only tugging on it more at the sound of a whimper falling from your lips.

“So pretty baby, falling apart under my touch like this already. You’re desperate, hm?” She rasped, her lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

“Mhm, just wanna feel good. Make me forget, daddy - please.” You pleaded, goosebumps raising over your skin when she scratched her nails down your body pushing your suit further past your hips.

“Focus on me, princess. By the end of the night you’ll know nothing but my name.”

Your hips bucked up into hers involuntarily at the way she growled out her words before crashing her lips to yours, frenzied and eager kisses as she danced her fingers beneath the hem of your underwear, teasingly stroking over your clit.

“I need you, Natty, please.” You whined out in frustration, feeling her smirk against your chest as she slid her fingers through your wet slit, plunging two fingers into you without a warning. You gasped out at the contact, her digits immediately curling inside you, brushing against your g-spot and the heel of her palm perfectly positioned over your clit.

You put all of your focus into trying to be quiet, trying to be consumed only by the way Natasha pumped her fingers into you with a sublime rhythm and her lips kissed over your neck but the added pang of arousal from the grunt she let out beside your ear made it impossible to swallow the moan at the back of your throat. She’d positioned herself over your thigh, grinding on your leg in a way that had her suit rubbing against her clit magnificently.

She stilled all movement to look at you with green eyes glazed over with arousal, “Quiet, baby - can’t have the others hearing all your pretty sounds.” She murmured, bringing the pendant of her dog tags to your lips. “Open.” She instructed, shoving the metal past your lips watching as you latched your lips around it with a suck. “Good girl, baby, stay quiet for daddy.”

The metal was cold against your tongue, clicking under your teeth as you bit into it to quell the feeble whimpers begging to tumble past your lips. Your nails dug into her shoulder blades as her fingers pulled you closer and closer to your climax and your face grew hot at the way you could hear her fingers pushing into you; she could feel how wet you were, how close you were, slowing her movements agonisingly.

“Hold it, baby, wanna cum with you.” She breathed, her hips moving rapidly in stuttered pushes along your thigh, her breath growing heavier by the minute.

When she could feel her orgasm fast approaching she quickened her pushes into you, your hips bucked forward to match her rhythm, chasing your release by grinding your aching clit against her palm. Natasha muffled her loud moan as she came with a harsh bite into the flesh of your shoulder, harsh enough to draw blood in tooth mark grooves, low whimpers at the back of her throat as she tried to catch her breath.

“That’s it, princess.” She cooed as she felt a gush of wetness over her fingers, your hips still moving lazily against her as the overwhelming pleasure brought tears to your eyes; biting down hard onto the pendant in your mouth with a pull that dug the chain into the back of her neck. “So good, so good for me angel.” She praised, planting kisses over your warm cheeks, holding your limp body up as your chest rose and fell in a chase for oxygen.

She pulled the necklace from your mouth gently, a string of saliva following it and coating your swollen lips, brushing stray hairs out of your face. She held your waist as she pulled her fingers from you, pleased at how they glistened in the light, humming in delight as she sucked your cum from them, looking forward to tasting you properly later.

“Thank you.” You mumbled out meekly, returning the smile Natasha gave you easily.

“My pleasure, baby.” She smirked. “I was only getting started. I’m gonna fuck every thought out of that pretty head.”

dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light - N.R.

(Part of my Red (Taylor's Version) fics)

Song - All Too Well

Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary - You can't sleep so Natasha calms you in the way she knows helps best -- I just love soft Nat so much and her singing to you would be so comforting and cute omg

Warnings - none, pure fluff :')

Word Count - 1003

You couldn't sleep. Lying on your back with a frustrated huff and staring up at the glow in the dark stars and planets stickers you'd dotted around; Natasha laughed one day as she walked into your shared bedroom to find you balancing on a chair that you had balanced on your bed, tongue poked out of your mouth in concentration as you stuck them up one by one. She helped you keep your balance, not entirely thrilled at the childish décor you were pasting over what once was her ceiling but loving it - and you - nonetheless.

You looked to the figure beside you, the redhead sleeping peacefully lying on her side with her hands tucked beneath her cheek, squishing her face in such an adorable way. You smiled at how sweet she looked, truly enamoured by the woman next to you; the way her soft and gentle side is reserved for you, the way she slowly opened herself up to you and let you love her and see her vulnerable. You felt privileged and lucky to be hers the same way she was yours.

You'd been unable to sleep for a while now, tossing and turning but not being able to switch your mind off enough to doze off. And your stomach was begging for a midnight snack - who are you to refuse? You moved carefully so as to not knock into Natasha as you climbed out of bed, the large t-shirt you were wearing falling to your mid thigh and the rest of your legs bare.

You tiptoed to the door, pulling it open as quietly as possible whilst checking on the woman behind you - she was still sleeping soundly, success. You continued your actions in an equally silent manner, shutting cupboards and drawers with the utmost care as you fetched out what you needed, working in the dark as you knew your way round in such a state. Slowly placing the plate onto the counter to minimise and noise, spreading peanut butter onto some bread for a sandwich - Nat will be so jealous, you thought with a smirk, taking a bite.

The downside to peanut butter sandwiches though is how dry they are, so you went to the fridge seeking the container of orange juice. Though, as you were searching you felt a warm presence by your hand. Turning, you saw the smug face of your girlfriend retreating from the sandwich in your hand which now had another large bite missing from it, you gasped mockingly with a shake of your head as she held back a laugh - both of you keeping quiet as the others slept.

"Trouble sleeping, krasivaya dorogaya?" She whispered as you poured some of the juice into a glass.

"Yeah and I wanted a snack." You returned, making her smile.

"You could have woken me." She added, taking the glass from your hand and taking a sip - she knows you have trouble sleeping and there's one thing she does that helps calm you enough to grow sleepy.

"I couldn't, you looked too cute." You smiled, looking at her smiling back at you, face illuminated by the glow of the light streaming from the open refrigerator. You walked back to the fridge to put the container of juice back, taking another bite of your sandwich and giving the rest to Natasha who took it happily and finished it off. "How can you look so good when you've just woken up in the middle of the night?" You questioned, cupping her cheek in your palm. "A masterpiece." You whispered, a blush and a grin crawling across her cheeks before she pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

She separated your mouths but kept your foreheads pressed together, her hands holding softly onto your waist as she began to sway your bodies side to side. You turned your head, resting it on her chest so her chin rested on your head, your hands looping around her body and holding onto her back. You gently swayed from left to right, Natasha's soothing voice breaking the silence as she began to lowly sing.

For you, there'll be no more crying

For you, the sun will be shining

And I feel that when I'm with you

It's alright, I know it's right

She sang the lyrics in just above a whisper, so serene and tender as you held onto her. The thoughts racing throughout your head slowly fading away as she brought your focus to her, listening to the peaceful singing of the love of your life.

To you, I'll give the world

To you, I'll never be cold

'Cause I feel that when I'm with you

It's alright, I know it's right

You couldn't help but quietly hum along to her words, smiling into her chest as she stroked your hair, bodies still swaying in a placid dance as you held onto one another - no other place you'd rather be.

And the songbirds are singing,

Like they know the score

And I love you, I love you, I love you

Like never before

You were finally feeling peaceful, smiling against her skin as your eyes slowly grew heavier.

And I wish you all the love in the world

But most of all, I wish it from myself

She walked you back to your room, holding you from behind with her hands tightly holding around your waist and her chin resting on your shoulder, pressing small kisses on your cheek every few steps. Climbing into bed behind you and going back to holding you as soon as you lay on your side, with your back pressed against her front and her legs entwined with yours. Her fingers softly stroking strands of your hair as she whispered the last lines of the song, you eyes drifting closed not long before she fell back to sleep.

And the songbirds keep singing

Like they know the score

And I love you, I love you, I love you

Like never before, like never before,

Like never before

Translation krasivaya dorogaya - beautiful darling ALSO the song used was Songbird by Fleetwood Mac :) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTi19MPOvDw

on your desk

natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: a secret admirer has been dropping off cute notes and flowers off at your desk every day, but you cant help but want there to be one specific, unreachable and untouchable person to be behind it all. 

warnings: fluff, uncertainty, secret admirer!!! basically shy!nat 

word count: 3.8k 

omg nicole look!!!. its your shitty coworker au- eNJoY shsjdjbd OF COURSE NOT PROOFREAD- it’s me c’mon ajsjjdn

There were flowers on your desk, again. And like every time after the first few, your heart picked up when you saw them, in nearly the same arrangement as they usually were. And like Wanda (and occasionally Sharon, if she wasn’t already head first into her computer) did every morning, she craned her neck over to look at you and your open-ish cubicle, where you stared at your desk and tried to decide who on earth could have sent you flowers for the millionth time. 

“You don’t know anyone who could have sent these?” She asked, an entertained and slightly knowing grin on her face as she looked at the typed note that always came with the flowers, no matter how short or to the point it was. On some days, the note would read “you should never stop smiling”, and on others, it would be half a page about how amazing you were at work and how much you were appreciated by your peers. There was no telling what you were going to get, and it managed to be a surprise every day even though you expected it. You shook your head.  “No one at all?” 

No, you didn’t think you know anyone who would have liked you enough to have flowers lying out for you every day, but you knew for a fact that you sure wished it was a specific person, just one. But you knew it wasn’t her. There was no way that Natasha Romanoff was the one buying flowers and typing you cutsey notes, no way at all. That just wasn’t her, and you knew it. Besides, you were always the first to work even if you didn’t make your way to your office first. You would have seen Natasha and her parked car if she was bringing flowers to your desk in the morning. And- it just wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. 

 She was serious. Very stoic, very driven, incredibly pretty, and even smarter. Somehow under all of her seriousness, she managed to light up the boring office (that occasionally had calls from irate customers that you always handled). She had all the traits that men were afraid of women having, and at first, that was what drew you to her. She knew what she wanted and more times than not, she knew where she had to go and what she had to do to get the things she wanted.

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Better Boyfriend Than Him

A/N - had to jump on the bandwagon and base a one shot on Boyfriend by Dove Cameron

Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary - Bruce left Natasha sitting alone at a Stark party so you decided to show her how she truly deserves to be treated.

Warnings - Smut; cheating, degradation, choking, slight exhibitionism, praise, daddy kink, strapon (r!receiving), biting ig

Word Count - 2116

You sipped on your drink, some kind of fruity cocktail, alcohol tingling your throat as you swallowed it down. Your eyes grazed over the crowd from where you were perched on a stool at the bar; eyeing Wanda laughing with Pietro and Sam, Steve and Bucky sitting across from them too. You saw Tony and Bruce talking animatedly with some serious looking men in suits, your eyebrows furrowed when you realised Bruce had been with Tony the past few hours, not with Natasha.

You shook your head at his negligence, how could somebody like him take somebody like Natasha for granted?

You searched over the bustling hall of people, some dancing, some chatting cradling tumblers of whiskey over ice; squinting your eyes slightly until you found her. A bored look across her features as she mindlessly scrolled through her phone, her other hand supporting a glass as it balanced on her knee. She looked simply magnificent, wine red blazer with matching trousers, one leg crossed over the other, a white button up shirt hugging her figure. You could see the light reflecting off her necklace against her chest, the warm glow of light bouncing off her smooth skin in such a beautiful way.

Wanda gave you a knowing smirk as she watched you approach Natasha, knowing of the crush you'd been harbouring for a while. It was a common occurrence for the pair of you to talk about her and Bruce's relationship, how he doesn't deserve her - she often mentions the loud thoughts she has accidentally heard running around the redhead's mind. Thoughts of you and what she longed to do with you, if only she didn't have Bruce.

It was knowledge of this that gave you the confidence to approach her tonight, plopping down beside her on the sofa. She quickly shut off her phone to bring her attention to you, a soft smile gracing her lips.

"Hey, Nat." You smiled, taken aback slightly at her appearance up close, the red shade of her jacket perfect against her skin. Auburn hair resting on her shoulders in loose waves.

"Hey. Enjoying the party?" She smiled back, you could see the aggravation behind it though, annoyed at the absence of her boyfriend.

"It's alright, you?"

"Having a blast." She deadpanned, sipping the remnants of the brown liquid from her glass, ice clinking against the side as she did so. You hummed at her statement.

"I could see. You've been on your own all night."

"Well, Bruce has been busy talking science." She shrugged and it irked you to see her try and defend his behaviour.

"You deserve better than Bruce." You huffed, both of you slightly shocked at your words, you hadn't expected yourself to be so forthright. Luckily she wasn't annoyed, rather amused with a smirk forming.

"I guess I do." She shrugged leaning closer to you, her leg brushing against yours at her proximity. "Who do you have in mind?" She asked, eyes gazing over the crowds as though looking for somebody to choose, teasingly.

"I could be a better boyfriend than him." You whispered, hearing a low groan at the back of her throat as she seemingly mulled over your statement.

"We shouldn't." She stood up and began walking to the doorway behind you. You followed her, of course, grabbing her wrist just as she stepped into the hallway causing her to whip round to face you. An unreadable expression, eyes darting over your face before she grabbed your face between her hands, tugging it to hers.

Her lips tasted faintly like whiskey, warm against yours as they moved together. She guided your bodies backwards to be out of sight of the party goers, her lips never left yours until she pushed your back against the corridor wall. Her kisses continued down to your jaw, sucking at the flesh of your neck whilst your hands roamed her waist, her body feeling perfect under your touch.

She nipped at your bottom lip, the gasp it elicited posing as ample opportunity for her tongue to slip into your mouth, swirling with yours as you kissed. Her hips pushed into yours as the kiss grew heavier trapping you between her body and the wall, not that you minded.

Her fingers gripped one of your hands that lay on her waist guiding it to the waistband of her trousers, pulling back with heavy breaths, eyes a darkened hue as she undid the button. Her eyes bore into yours as she inched your hand down, fingertips brushing against the hem of her underwear.

"Nat, here?" You breathed out, looking around the empty hallway, the noise of the party in just the next room filling the air.

"Mhm, make daddy feel good baby." She rasped, looking to you to make sure you were on board, the name she used only made the heat course further through you. She sighed into your mouth when your fingers slipped down further making contact with the wetness between her folds.

Your fingertips collected some of her arousal before rubbing over her clit, neither of you caring in that moment if somebody were to walk out and see, both you even going so far as to hope Bruce might wander out. You could only smirk at the thought whilst her tongue licked over a harsh bite to your collarbone, a way to muffle the moan at the back of her throat.

She squeezed a handful of your hair into her fist as your movements continued, pleasure building, hips rocking into yours slightly as she grew nearer to her release. You'd only ever imagined how she would sound coming undone by your hand and as cliche as it sounds, it was music to your ears. A deep groan with shuddered breaths against the shell of your ear, scalp being tugged with how her hand clenched down onto your hair and her body falling into yours.

"Such a good girl, hm?" She panted out, placing kisses along your throat before quickly pulling you along - you both wanted more.

In a haze you found yourself in Natasha's room, you knew that Bruce never comes in here so it was distinctly hers: delicate floral scent in the air, bed neatly made, a photo of you and her taped to her mirror.

She quickly rid you of your shirt, kissing the skin of your chest as she fiddled with the button of your trousers. "This okay, love?" She asked, only pulling them down your legs after receiving an eager nod on your part.

You fell with a quiet thud onto her bed, head resting on her pillows as she climbed on top of you slotting her lips with yours again. Your fingers fumbled with buttons of her shirt, blazer already discarded just inside the door, revelling in the sight of her flesh spilling out of the top of lacey black material. She shrugged the shirt off her body with a smirk looking down at you, throwing it aside before climbing off your body, chuckling slightly at the small whine you released at her absence.

"Wait a second, baby." She muttered as she rid herself of the rest of her clothes, confidence only adding to her allure as she walked away totally nude. "So impatient, huh?" She tutted with a smirk, shuffling in her wardrobe.

Your eyes widened with a quiet gasp as she smugly turned back with a red strap on in her grasp, stepping into it before sauntering back over to the edge of the bed.

"I've not been able to use this, don't you think that's so sad baby?" She pouted, holding your chin between her thumb and forefinger.

"Mhm." You nodded, matching the smirk that pulled her lips.

"You'll let me use it though, hm? Let me fuck you?"

"Yes, daddy." You breathed, and she was satisfied with your answer, climbing back on top of you and kissing your with fervour. You could feel the arousal pooling at the feeling of her hand pressing against your throat whilst the tip of her strap brushed over your clothed core, her teeth biting into your bottom lip before she pulled away.

Her fingers against your skin sent shivers through you as she pulled the underwear from your body, observing every inch of you as you lay vulnerably bare beneath her.

She eased the length into you, moving easily from the wetness between your folds. "So wet for me." She mused, eyes completely focused on the way her cock disappeared into you and the sigh you released at the slow action, adjusting to the size.

She soon increased her pace, thrusting into you rhythmically at the perfect angle that had your eyes rolling back. Her hands dug into your waist to keep her balance, teeth biting down on her lip as she watched your breasts lightly bounce with each thrust, your mouth parted slightly and breathing growing heavy.

"Fuck." She groaned, the strap positioned in a way that hit against her still sensitive clit. "I've always wondered what you'd look like under me like this. Panting, looking like a desperate whore for me." She leant down without letting her movements falter, biting down on your neck and you could feel her hot breath against you. "You like it when I do this?" She muttered as her hand wrapped around your neck, thumb pushing down to restrict your airways.

"Y-yes, fuck." You choked out, climax growing nearer.

"Daddy's little whore." She smiled from above you, her hand reached down to rub over your clit, shocks going through you as your orgasm rapidly approached and the way her hips began to falter showed her second was soon approaching too. "Cum for me, baby. Let me hear how you sound."

The way her finger circled your clit and her hips snapped into you had the pleasure washing all over you not long after, a loud moan tumbling from your lips as you body shook beneath her. The sight was enough for her to fall over the edge right with you, heaving breaths as she held her body up, hands planted either side of your head as you both came down.

"Shit." You sighed out, sweeping the hair that had fallen over your eyes and smiling into the kiss as Natasha pressed her lips to yours once more. She eased out of you leaving you empty and you felt your cheeks heat up at the sight of the wetness on the strap before she dropped it on the floor. Her kisses felt more perfect than you could have imagined, tongue swirling around yours as her hands squeezed your breasts.

"You need to clean up this mess you've made, dorogoy." Her voice rasped before she fell onto her back beside you, dragging you on top of her body by your hair. You crawled down until your face hovered above her slit, glistening with her slick, coating her upper thighs too.

Your tongue licked a stripe up to her clit, humming against her at the sweet taste dancing on your tongue, the vibrations making her hips buck upwards with a low moan. She was sensitive, the way her hand gripped your hair at just a small lick showed you that. You sucked on her throbbing bud, licking over it as her nails dug into your scalp.

"Such a good girl for me." She moaned out. "Mm, so perfect for me princess." Her free hand clawed into the sheets as she fast approached another orgasm, eyes scrunching closed with a grunt as it washed over her, flooding her senses.

She came into your mouth, tongue darting out to catch every last drop, lapping it up eagerly as she had told you to. Her grip on your hair loosened when her heart beat finally calmed down, wiping at the sweat that glistened on her forehead before pulling you back to her. She could taste herself on your lips, only urging her to continue even more.

"You are so good, Y/N/N." She smiled, cheeks blushed red still.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm, so good. I haven't had orgasms this good for six months." She sighed with a roll of her eyes, you grinned knowing that that's how long she'd been dating Bruce, a laugh falling from your lips before you cut yourself off. She laughed too before cupping your cheek with her hand, soft look in her eye as she smiled. "Let me make you feel that good too."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. So sure, let daddy treat my princess how she deserves." She uttered as she flipped your bodies back over, pecking your lips and jaw. "I can't get enough of you, baby. I just wish I'd realised sooner."

A/N - i love that i implied that bruce wouldn't let nat peg him :)

dorogoy - sweetheart

Staring is Bad

Pairing: Professor!Natasha Romanoff x Student!Reader

Summary: you have a thing for your English Literature professor and it doesn’t help that she’s the kind of person to notice

Warning: cursing, flirting from Nat, mentioned porno title but thats it

A/N: … because yes? HAHAHAHA this is the flirting story I was talking about so I really hope you guys like this short one!! (Someone pls flirt with me so i know whats like ;;-;;)

“Y/N?” Your best friend asks as she waves her hand in front of your dazed face while the other students are starting to file in.

You sigh dreamily as you continue to stare at your English Lit prof from the farthest part of the huge lecture room. “She’s so pretty”

As a third year university student taking up Mechanical Engineering, you were given the chance to pick any elective of your choice. Your best friend is an English major so you both thought it would be fun to try and take a class together, resulting to your best friend choosing E104.

This class specifically is notoriously known for always having its slots full before 10 minutes are up so its an absolute miracle you both managed to get in. You remembering judging the class because why would a class have that much slots yet still get filled up, and well you immediately shut up the moment you entered the room to see Ms. Natasha Romanoff writing her name on perfect cursive on the blackboard.

Your best friend rolls her eyes at you as she sits besides you, taking out her notebook and pen for class. “I’m starting to regret this honestly”

“Come on” you tease as you look at her with your chin on the palm of your hand. “You love me, and it’s not my fault you’re in a relationship with a boy for 5 years and counting. Cut me some slack here”

“Keep it in your pants then because I want to pass this class without getting in trouble okay?” She chuckles softly as she pokes your cheek with the cap end of her pen. “Now focus, class is about to start”

You smirk back at your friend as Nat turns to face the lecture hall of 100 students with a smile. “Good afternoon everyone and welcome to English Lit”

She puts the chalk down onto the chalk ledge and grabs a book from her table as she walks to the front of her desk, leaning back slightly to half sit. “We will be discussing The Fall of Icarus, has anyone read the book before?”

Around 10-15 students raises their hands before Nat nods her head to signal the students to lower their hands. You start to zone out as you stare at Nat, appreciating how good she looks in a nice and crisp white button down, tucked into her black slacks that accentuates the length of her legs and shows off the black pumps. She’s wearing the kind of blazer that drapes over her shoulders with 2 slits, one on each arm, making it look like those cape-like blazers and it exerts professionalism but some kind of sexiness in return. Her red ruby lips moving as she continuous on with the lecture and her hair framing her face as if she’s the kindest and smartest person in the world.

You unconsciously sigh dreamily as you melt further into your seat, making your best friend roll her eyes fondly at you with a soft chuckle. Before she could nudge you to bring your focus back, it seems like Ms. Romanoff noticed as well.

“You there at the farthest row, the mechanical engineering major” she starts as her booming voice takes you back to earth, your eyes widening slightly as you straighten your posture and clearing your throat slightly. “What is your take on the symbolism of the story?”

You jump at Nat’s voice and quickly look at your best friend for help who slightly raises her hands, just barely off the table, surrendering. You sigh in defeat as you quickly glance at the blackboard to see the title of the book, silently thanking God that you know a little bit of something on this book thank you hamilton.

“Well for me” you start as you start fiddling with your pen. “When Icarus and his father made their escape out of Sicily with the warning of not flying too close to the sun due to the material used for the wings, you can possibly apply it in a relationship”

You lost your train of thought when your eyes meet your professor’s, suddenly realizing the shade of green it holds and the unexpected presence of emotions it has. Nat smiles before mouthing ‘go on’ the moment she noticed you stopped causing you to blush slightly.

You shake your head and continue on. “Anyway so in the case of Icarus, he’s shown to be the kind to have dreams and aspirations while his father would bring him back to earth where reality is. In a relationship, you can’t always have your head in the clouds and daydream so in a way, you can’t fall in love with the concept of love brought around by media or literature in this case, but fall in love with what you have on earth at that moment or else you’d fly too close to the sun”

A few moments of silence pass, your heart racing at the sudden anxiety of you fucking things over. As you’re about to quietly ask your best friend if you did mess up, your professor suddenly claps her hands with a smile on her face.

“You seem to be quite insightful with literature for a mechanical engineering major” she teases causing the class to laugh as you blush profusely.

“But, I appreciate that so thank you Ms…” she trails off as she raises an eyebrow for you to continue her sentence. You smile shyly as you introduce yourself by your full name.

“Right, Ms. Y/N” she starts as she puts the book down onto the table. “So as what Y/N has mentioned, Icarus’ character is the kind of character to fantasize, daydream even”

She continues on with the lecture as you finally let out a sigh of relief while your best friend besides you pats your thigh with a mischievous grin. “She totally noticed you staring at her”

You roll your eyes at her, nudging her by the shoulder as she gasps just loud enough before profusely saying her apologies as the students nearby stare at the both of you. You grin in victory before looking back at the lecture, placing your chin back onto the palm of your hand with your elbow resting onto your table as you stare at your absolutely gorgeous professor once again with a happy look.

“She’s so pretty”

A month into the semester and this is totally your favorite class. Things has been going really well considering you haven’t been caught ogling at your hot professor even though you’re probably very obvious at it.

She’s currently walking up and down the aisles of the lecture hall, her sleeves of her very professional looking blouse rolled up to her elbow making your heart race at how infatuated you are for her. Since the lecture will go on for a few more minutes, your restless self decided to start daydreaming. You would look out of the window, stare outside for a bit then look back at Nat but would catch her eyes for a few moments before looking away. You couldn’t help but tilt your head slightly, curious and even intrigued.

“I wonder if she can read minds of her students” you thought as a joke, a quirk on the corner of your lips thats a concealed smirk as you try to not laugh at how stupid it is.

“If you can hear my thoughts, say something” you thought in your mind jokingly. Surely Nat of all people wouldn’t… right?

Lo and behold, Nat suddenly walks up to your aisle as she calls for another student to do their recitation. She ends up standing by the empty seat besides you where your bag is currently sitting on, leaning over slightly so only you could hear what she has to say.

“Has your mother ever taught you that staring is bad?” She stands back up after a quick wink and acknowledges the answer of the student as she walks back down.

Your jaw just drops as your entire face pales at being caught, your best friend besides you trying her absolute hardest to not burst out laughing but still couldn’t contain her laughter causing her to shove her head into her arms so she muffle her laughs.

“No fucking way” you mumble to yourself as your best friend lifts her head off her desk, the biggest smirk present on her lips.

“She totally noticed” a smug grin forms on her lips after you playfully hit her arm while a blush forms on your cheeks.

“Alright class” Nat says as she stands by her desk while the other students start to pack up. “Don’t forget to turn in your essays about your chosen book next week. See you then! Oh and Ms. Y/N, please stay”

That made your friend burst out laughing as you quickly tackle her and mumble shut up frantically. You sigh in defeat as she bids you goodbye, leaving you and Nat alone. Dread starts to fill you entire being as you walk closer and closer to Nat, eventually standing by her desk as she bids farewell to the last student who stayed back for a question. The click of the door closing echos throughout the room, as if it was sealing the fate of whatever were to happen next.

“Ms. Y/N” Nat says, acknowledging you as she walks back, standing in front of you. You notice the heigh difference between the both of you where Nat absolutely towers you because of her monster heels. You swallow deeply as you start to fiddle with the end of your sweater.

“A-am I in trouble Ms. Romanoff?” You wince slightly at your stuttering, but also because this sounds like the start of a horrible porno. Nat leans against the edge of her table with a smirk on her lips.

“Do I make you nervous, Ms. Y/N?” She asks with a cocky tilt on the head making you narrow your eyes slightly at the older woman. Her smirks widen at that. “You’re not in trouble, but I’m sure you have a question for me based on the look you gave me earlier”

You blush furiously at that as you run a hand through your hair. “W-well yea, how did you know what I was thinking?”

Nat stands up and you can just smell the perfume she’s wearing, the coffee and caramel lingering in your personal space as you think ‘oh god this is the start of that weird porno, the Student gets fucked by her Professor kind’. She gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, causing your eyes to snap at her as she gets your attention.

“It’s written all over your face in every class, that’s why you should take this” she says as she hands you her sleek black business with her name and number on the front. “And call me, alright? You’re an adult, right darling?”

Your eyes widen as big as saucers at the nickname as a little squeak uncontrollably goes up your throat and out of your mouth. You quickly cover your mouth as you nod frantically.

She smirks at the power she has over you. She wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you against her as she tucks her hands into your back pockets. You feel your face heat up at the feeling of Nat’s hands indirectly against your bottom, the motion of Nat pulling you against her caused you to place your hands against her chest as you don’t go slamming against her. Nat leans down as she’s leaning into your ear, whispering softly and in almost in a seductive matter.

“I’ll see you in class, Ms. Y/N” she pulls back from you completely before you could do anything and you just feel your heart beat against your chest frantically as you stare back in a dazed look, wondering what the fuck just happened. However, you nod back before waving and grabbing your bag to leave.

As you leave, you suddenly noticed the weird feeling of something bunched up in your back pocket since you normally don’t put anything there. As you walk, you slip your hand in and feel a bunched up piece of paper. Taking it out, you open it and immediately stop your tracks as your eyes widen while reading the note.

“8 pm, my office. Don’t be late, darling”

Y/n: Do you have any skeletons in your closet? Natasha: You mean literally or figuratively? Y/n: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

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.

The Elements Of Us || Masterlist

Author's Note - SURPRISE!! Me and the absolutely fabulous, and talented, @p0orbaby have decided to work together to do a collab! We've had this planned for a little while, but we're now ready to reveal it to you lovely lot. Please follow them if you haven't already!

Summary - When an unexpected misunderstanding turns into a blossoming relationship, it’s hard to remember that the outside world exists. Follow the journey of two idiots in love as they navigate their new lives with each other, but not without their pasts rearing their ugly heads.

Pairing - Older!NatashaRomanoff x Younger!Fem!Reader

Warnings - Each chapter will have its own individual warnings. but adult themes will be written throughout.

Prologue || 22/01

Chapter 1

more chapters coming…

--

Missing in Action

Natasha x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 700

Notes: Last drabble of the night in the NEB universe.

You’re not sure what has you more stressed the crying baby in front of you or the fact that your wife is not home yet. You’ve called Natasha twice now to see when she’d be home from her mission and she hasn’t picked up either time. You should be used to it by now. You know how it goes. She’s home when she can be. She’s stopped taking longer missions after you had Ryan but this was a pressing matter. An alien attack of some sort. She’s in another country - last you heard Norway. She told you on her last phone call a week ago. She talked your ear off about how much you should visit and how much she misses you. She promised she wouldn’t miss Ryan’s first Christmas for the world. She wants to be there when he opens his presents. She wants to see the snow with you. Just like she does every year.

She promises to be home until she can’t be. It’s the procedure. She’s gone ghost as you like to call it. No calls, no texts, and certainly no emails. It’s a part of her job. It’s important to her. Sometimes you think more important than you.

No. You shake your head free of those intrusive thoughts. They’re frequent these days. The negative thoughts. Sometimes your mind plays tricks on you. Telling you you’re not worthy of Natasha’s love. You’re not worthy of anyone’s love. Some days you can’t get out of bed only opting to feed Ryan and play with him for as long as you can stand it. You feel like you’re drowning and the only person to talk to is unreachable. The only person that can drive away those dark thoughts and insecurities isn’t here. It hurts, even more, to think about.

Ryan is crying again for what seems like the fifth hour in a row. He just won’t stop. He’s teething. You know he’s in pain but nothing you do works. Not cold compresses, not Orajel on his gums, none of the remedies you read online. It seems the only thing that even remotely calms him is being in your arms and you can’t get anything done with him screaming in your ear. It’s a frustrating feeling as a first-time mom. He’s sitting across from you, clean, dry, seemingly tired but unwilling to fall asleep. You sit looking at him with your phone in one hand and a teething ring in the other. Your back is pressed against the couch, your knees are drawn to your chest, as you simply watch him. His face is angry and red. He wants your comfort but you can’t give it to him.

For a moment, you zone out. Life before marriage, before the baby, before everything was simpler. There was no one depending on you. There wasn’t that feeling of emptiness deep inside you. Natasha didn’t believe you when you told her. She told you sometimes these things take time. When would that be? You didn’t feel a connection to the baby boy sitting there. You didn’t feel that instant love like she did. You never wanted to admit it but sometimes you wondered how you did it. You’re supposed to love him. You do love him. Why didn’t it feel the same? Every time you looked at him you felt that resentment boil inside of you. Babies were supposed to be happy things. You had been so thrilled to find out you were pregnant. Why didn’t any of this feel right?

Postpartum depression. You’ve researched it well enough to think you have the symptoms but you can’t right now. Thinking about it makes it real and you don’t want it to be real. It’s a sign of weakness and you won’t show it. Now when all he has right now is you. Your feelings didn’t matter. You crawl the few feet across the floor to place Ryan on your lap. He rubs his face across your shirt as he sobs even louder. He’s in pain and you can’t even do anything to make it better.

You wish Natasha were here. She always knows what to do. She knows how to make him feel better. She is a better mother than you could ever be and you both know it.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck with me,” You whisper to the top of his head as you finally let the tears you’ve been holding fall.

Period Pains

Natasha x Reader

Notes: Made this because I'm in bed wishing I had a girlfriend to come cuddle me

Word Count: 1k

You can feel the disappointment settled deeply in your bones the moment you wake up. The unsettling feeling low in your abdomen causes you to sigh. It’s a frustrating feeling and you should be used to it by now. Yet it never seems to stop bothering you. You reach across the bed to feel for Natasha only to be met with nothing. She must be out training. You sit up slowly, hoping to ease the pain in your belly, as you try to wake up enough to go to the bathroom. Another month. Another week of pain. You plant your feet on the ground, hands pressed against the bed, as you push yourself to a standing position. You shuffle the few feet across the room to reach the bathroom. You reach under the bathroom sink to find a sanitary napkin before dropping down onto the toilet seat. You swipe at the tears in your eyes at the sight of blood in your panties. It shouldn’t feel like this. It shouldn't be this way. Deciding that you feel icky, a shower is the only way to get you feeling decent enough.

You stand again, flushing the toilet behind you before walking over to the shower. You turn it to the hottest setting you can stand before tossing the panties and your sleep shorts into the nearby hamper. You wait for the water to heat up before stepping under the shower. You can barely stand and everything feels unstable. Your head hurts, your breasts are tender, your legs feel shaky beneath you. You make quick work of cleaning yourself, hoping to alleviate some of the pain in your lower back as the water rains down on you.

Natasha will be home soon. Then she can come and lay with you. All you want is Tasha.

You step out of the shower to wrap yourself in a towel rushing to your bedroom to put on a pair of panties and the sanitary napkin. You’re not even going to try tampons. No matter how many times people recommend it having something inside of you seems to hurt. So you stick to pads. It’s a simple step and you toss the wrapper in the trash. You avoid looking at yourself in the mirror. Everything hurts. You try not to think too hard as you reach inside of the medicine cabinet for extra strength Midol. The only thing that makes periods bearable for you. You pop open the packaging, pushing the pills into your mouth, before turning on the sink. You cup your hands under the running water to sip the water. It’s enough for you to swallow and you do so with a frown.

Giving one final glance to the bathroom to make sure it’s clean, you rush back into your bedroom. You dig through Natasha’s drawer for one of her oversized t-shirts. It used to be Clint’s but now it’s hers. It smells like her laundry detergent and it brings you comfort while you wait for her. You stretch it over your head straightening it down your body. You don’t care about pants right now. It would only annoy you to have the fabric over your sensitive skin right now. You crawl into the middle of the bed pulling the covers over your head. You just want to sleep.

You don’t realize that you actually do fall asleep until Natasha is brushing her fingers along your face. She whispers for you to wake up and you do with a whimper. The pain comes back at you full force as you blink your eyes open.

“Hey, J.A.R.V.I.S. informed me you weren’t feeling well,” She speaks in a hushed tone. Her brows knit with concern and she gestures to the tea and hot water bottle sitting on the nightstand. “I brought reinforcements.” She says.

“Yeah,” You whimper again tears shining in your eyes now. “Hold me?” You ask. You don’t care how you look. You’re in pain and you want her. Natasha doesn’t hesitate to crawl into bed. You lift, waiting expectantly for her to find a good position, and that’s when you notice what she’s wearing. A simple black tank top, no bra, and biker shorts. She must have showered when she got here. She pulls you into her arms as she lies against the pillows. She reaches with her left hand to grab the hot water bottle pressing it against your back. You flinch slightly before sighing in relief at your aching muscles fighting against the heat.

“You got your period?” She guesses and you nod against her collarbone. She kisses the top of your head. She knows the first few days of your period leave you practically bedridden. She rubs her thumb soothingly against your bare arm under the sleeve of your shirt. You listen to her breathing for a few seconds finding the constant beating almost lullaby-like.

“I’m sorry, Tasha.” You say suddenly. “It’s not fair.” You press your face further into her body clutching her shirt between your fingers as another wave of cramps hits you. She knows what you mean.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” She soothes. “We can try again.” She promises. “If you want. Only if you want.” She says. She’s so understanding. She’s always so understanding with you. You close your eyes, trusting her to keep you safe, as you try to relax.

Natasha’s hand that had been rubbing your arm travels down your body and under your t-shirt. She reaches just slightly under the waistband of your panties, pausing her fingers when you tense under her. You’re sensitive but you nod against her to continue. She presses just slightly on the skin there. Right, where you feel the most pain. She massages gently and you whine. Her touches are gentle and caring as she tries to alleviate some of the pain you’re feeling. It seems to be working as you feel the muscles under her fingers relax just slightly.

“I love you,” You whisper to her.

“I love you too,” She whispers back.

Fleeting

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 561 words

A/N: Have forgotten how to write because I have the mind of a fish. trying to get back into it. Fluff.

You notice one day that Natasha is insecure.

 It’s almost funny to you, the concept is so surreal.

Her confidence is why you started talking.

She’s driving you home and she glances over.

Her smile is nervous and you don’t understand why.

Before she pulls up outside your building, she tells you thank you.

Her voice is hoarse and you’re surprised.

You give her a gentle smile back.

Your eyes meet. 

Understanding settles between you.

Natasha kisses you.

Your voice is hoarse when you murmur thank you too.

Natasha stays over that night.

Your lives starts tangling together.

It feels good.

She taps your waist when she walks around you. 

The gesture is light as air, it makes you feel settled.

Natasha sings when she cooks.

You ask her if it makes the food taste better. She sticks her tongue out and offers you a forkful.

Natasha tells you that you’re shit at video games. 

Her voice is so pitying that you feel like you’ve been diagnosed with ineptitude.

She plays Mario Kart with you every single night.

She teases you about your driving, but her smile is excited.

She keeps asking you to play again.

She straddles you on the sofa and tells you that you’re a danger behind the wheel.

You are her friend. 

You are more than that too.

But, being her friend feels special.

You want to celebrate every part of loving her.

She trusts you.

You don’t realise at first.

She starts telling you about the missions she goes on.

At first, she only tells you vague locations.

Then, she starts to debrief little fragments. 

One day, you find her caught in a silent storm of tears.

She lets you hold her.

Things are different then.

She invites you to sleep over more and more. 

You start splitting your time between apartments.

One afternoon, you arrive earlier than expected.

Natasha glances guiltily at the sofa when she lets you in. 

You see your usual pillow lying there.

You realise that she holds it when you’re not here.

That night you tell her that you love her.

Her smile is wide. 

Her eyes fill with relieved tears.

She was waiting for you.

Natasha starts holding your hand when you walk together. 

She asks your opinion about everything.

She starts playing your favourite music.

Natasha gives you her favourite book. 

The pages are worn and you feel like she’s written on every page.

You borrow her laptop and learn that she’s looking at new apartments.

You think she’s moving away. 

Natasha finds you crying.

She starts crying too.

You’ve never seen her so scared.

Her words are disjointed when she tries to tell you about family.

About what she’s never really had.

About what you mean to her.

Natasha tries to tell you that she wants to live with you.

She can’t meet your eyes.

Her fingers are tapping, and the sound slips from rhythmic to compulsive.

You wonder if she’s counting out your last seconds together.

You watch her wait for you to leave.

Things slide into place.

Your voice is careful, but it’s also certain.

You ask if you can be her family now.

Natasha cries harder.

You touch her tapping fingers and they stop moving abruptly.

You kiss her knuckles.

Natasha is not a time or place.

Natasha is not fleeting.

Natasha is your family.

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.

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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She’s Everything

Soft!Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 2K

A/N: Based on a lovely request. Please enjoy some fluff. Based on song of the same name.

Not all secrets are intentional. 

It hadn’t made sense to tell the others when you’d started dating Natasha. Things felt tentative anyway. 

There was a softness with Natasha that you’d only guessed at before. 

She was hesitant before every date.

————-

She knocked on your door before the first one. 

You were going to the cinema, Natasha had invited you over text. It was more than friendship, but you weren’t quite sure what else it could be yet.

Natasha met your gaze when you opened your door. She smiled nervously and you realised that this was the side of her that she didn’t normally share.

Her hands were buried deep in her jacket’s pockets and, when you told her that she looked great, she glanced shyly at the ground.

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All Too Well

College!Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 5K

A/N: Happy Birthday @reminiscingtonight. You’re the best, I hope you have a year as awesome as you. Despite the title, this is all fluff. I hope you like it!

Sophomore year of college was not going to plan. It hadn’t even started yet. You’d made the choice not to apply for dorms. Instead, you’d made plans with your two best friends from freshman freshman. The three of you had been inseparable for two semesters, and it made perfect sense to rent an off campus house together.

As the summer went on, it started to feel like you were the only one in the group still excited for the experience of living together. You found yourself sending links for potential houses into the group chat, only to be left on read.

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Sweet of you to recommend me💕 These fics are also very good!😊

fem(or gn) fic/blurb/hc recs

mostly Natasha Romanoff

if there is any Writer that doesn't Want there Work on here please Let me Know

last updated Tuesday, august 31 at 8:42pm

*= smut there probably wont be any top reader

not a of them Will have summaries

Natasha Romanoff x reader /wandanat x reader

@blooodwords

pt.1) gonna kill you if you don't beat me to it *

you never wanted to be an avenger. now that you’ve been one (quite reluctantly) for a while, things are changing. and Natasha’s finally starting to figure you out — for better or for worse.

pt.2) home of blood and bone *

Natasha pries her way into your past, into your biology, and into your future. and you let her.

@anubvs

pt1) Airmail cocktails

You work at a restaurant frequented by mafia members, so why have you never met the boss until now?

pt2) A single moment

You finally met the big boss of the mob you service at your restaurant, but can someone really change before it's too late?

tasha x r

@clueless-sapphic

cookie flavored Kisses

tasha x r

@twilight-99-tm

Natasha Romanoff x reader drabble *

Limits*

Word count< 1900

Natasha might have crossed a line.

tasha x reader

@spiritualchange

Bestfriendsmomnat x reader *

@sapphosvioletts

cramps

Word count<572

Do you think you could write a one-shot where Nat’s daughter has really intense periods, and Nat helping her through them? You can decide if she’s autistic or not.

Natasha Romanoff x teen daughter reader

birthday girl

Word count< 512

Natasha celebrates her daughters birthday

Natasha Romanoff x teen daughter reader

never alone

Word count< 2625

Natasha had taken the girl under her wing after they saved her from Hydra, she was practically her mom now and saw the girl as her daughter. When her daughter can’t stop the thoughts running through her mind, telling her she’s ungrateful, that she should be happy, she has everything now and she shouldn’t be feeling like this; she takes sleeping pills, maybe too many, just wanting those thoughts to stop and her mind to be quiet. Natasha finds her in that state and they have a talk. No shitty “someone loves you so your depression is better now” trope ending because that’s not how it works lol

Natasha Romanoff x teen daughter reader

not real

Word count< 1674

Natasha’s daughter had looked for Yelena everywhere, only to find her at her mother’s grave. They talk and Yelena promises to be there for her, as they both express their emotions with the recent events. During their meeting, the person they least expect to show up makes an appearance, although her daughter is having a hard time believing it’s real.

Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova x autistic teen reader

writeasrain

never tear us apart

tasha x nb! r

@wandaromanova

reality

Word count< 3500

Y/N and Natasha get off to a somewhat rocky start, but the pursuit of happiness is never smooth sailing.

tasha x reader

my hero

Word count< 1100

Natasha comes home from a mission and is moved by what she finds.

tasha x reader

my babies

Word count<1000

Natasha gets a surprise visit from her two favorite people in the world.

tasha x reader

stress relief*

Word count<2500

Y/N had a rough day training some new recruits. She ends up relieving her stress, but not in the way she expected.

Natasha Romanoff x reader

pt1) mile high club*

Word count<2100

Y/N and Natasha have an eventful trip home after a mission.

pt2) I told you*

Word count<1800

Natasha is a woman of her word.

tasha x reader

Wake up call*

Word count<2000

Natasha comes up with the perfect wake-up call for her girlfriend.

tasha x reader

reward*

Word count<2000

The aftermath of teasing is the greatest reward.

tasha x reader

pt1) masterpiece

Word count<3500

The aftermath of teasing is the greatest reward.

pt2) breathtaking

Word count< 2000

tasha x reader

all along

Word count< 2300

Natasha takes training a little too seriously and ends up hurting her crush, Y/N L/N, but maybe the situation isn’t as bad as it seems.

tasha x reader

domestic type

Word count<1100

The Avengers need a safe house to lay low in. Luckily, Natasha knows the perfect place.

tasha x reader

new favorite

Word count<1100

Y/N sees a spider that reminds her of her famous girlfriend; The Black Widow

tasha x reader

flawed

Word count<4500

There’s a silver lining to Wanda’s unfaithfulness.

tasha x reader

@thesecretwriter

pt1) tension *

A night out with your friends, drinks and truth or dare leads to the woman on your mind being rather possessive of you, you’re finally getting what you want.

pt2) tension *

After calling it a night, Natasha asked you to take her home, upon arriving at her apartment, she tells you to come up with her. What does she have in mind?

tasha x reader

Daddy Nat*

While at another one of Tony’s parties, Natasha finds herself watching your interactions with Carol while she was with Steve, Bucky and Sam. While you and Natasha have been together for 2 years, Carol still flirted with you, yet you didn’t really flirt back. You just continued to be normal. An hour after watching you and Carol from afar, Natasha takes you to your shared room to remind you who you belong to.

tasha x reader

@winterwidow17

spreading your Wings

Word count< 745

Y/n wings are cramping up but the team has never seen them. She doesn't wanna cause a scene, but Natasha has a solution.

tasha x reader

@agentofbarnes

can I touch you*

Petal asking if she can kiss/suck/bite Nat's tits. C-can I touch?

tasha x reader

@starsvck

pt1) diet mountain dew*

drugs and alcohol are involved, you and Natasha need to pee, which somehow led to the two of you fucking in Tony’s bed.

pt2) diet mountain dew*

Natasha apologizes for what she did at the part

Ketonok(series masterlist) *

she’s way older than you but that doesn’t seem to be a problem for the both of you when she decides to fuck you one day. nsfw. older!nat, younger! Reader.

tasha x reader

@officialcharactersimp

helping hand(s)*

word count<800

step moms Wanda and Nat come home to find their 19 year old touching theirself and moaning Wanda and nats names? (reader has a vagina and is a huge bottom)

wandanat x reader

nervous breakdown

nervous breakdown; reader is v upset; Wanda taking care of reader; no smut; sadboi hours for reader

Wanda x reader

graduation gift(on going series)

pt1) graduation gift

word count<2800

pt2) you break beautifully

word count<2000

pt3) progress until punished

word count<2200

pt4) mending & amends

word count<3000

You never liked your stepmother, but you never expected her to do anything like this

darktasha x reader

@agentofbarnes

widows bite

Natasha Romanoff showed you a whole new world when you thought for sure that you were going to be stuck at dead end forever.

tasha x reader

@nermalina

mommy Nat blurb

professor/mommy! Nat explaining things to sub! Reader in class and reader 100% gets it. once readers goes into little space at home Nat tries to explain things differently

mommy tasha x reader

@kingpreciouswrld

Why Would you do that

Word count<1200

can you write reader being the big,bad scary soldier and Natasha is like head over heels for them and one day while the team is bonding Natasha boops their nose and everyone went quiet until reader says “…did you just boop me?do it again”

tasha x reader

@aquamarinescarlet

you Were blue

Word count<2300

Telling stories from your childhood with the Avengers brings some feelings to light.

tasha x reader

@yellowvxbes

late at night

word count<512

You can’t sleep and want to watch cartoons, while Natasha just wants to sleep.

tasha x reader

a little secret

word count<952

You had been keeping to age regression a secret from your girlfriend, but when she comes home unexpectedly, it can’t be a secret anymore.

Natasha Romanoff x reader

@seera-li

speak up baby*

word count< ?

Mommy decides to test your limits. It will of course, be fun for you. Or Natasha fucks you until you cry.

Natasha Romanoff x reader

@starksbabie

chronically in love with you

Nat takes care of a chronically ill reader.

tasha x reader

@wandaswifeyforlifey

just a risky move

word count< 713

You, Nat, Steve, Clint and Tony had just got off the Quinjet after a mission but Nat wouldn’t get off your back about a risky move you made during the fight

tasha x reader

@lilian-maximoff

Natty? where have you gone to?

word count< ?

Nat tries her best to catch Y/n's eye but in her mind, she fails, which causes Y/n to go looking for her little redhead.

Natasha Romanoff x reader

@arelyitsherec8

I've got issues

word count<?

Y/n started dating Natasha, it was very unexpectedly, but it had been so beautiful. But what happens when they move in together?

Natasha Romanoff x reader

@lostalioth

soft Kisses*

Word count<?

i just want the soft assassin to take care of me after fucking me senseless okay

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Wanda x reader

@officialcharactersimp

sissy Wanda(on going series)*

sissy

word count< 1400

You thought you hated your older stepsister, but you were very wrong

darkwanda x reader

if you go his series master list all the parts will be there

Yelena Belova x reader

@ynscrazylife

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

Yelena struggles to deal with her girlfriend Y/N having a simple cold so she calls in reinforcements.

Yelena Belova x reader

Natasha Romanoff x reader(platonic) and Melina Vostokoff x reader(platonic)

@rachaelswrites

prank war

word count<822

Natasha Romanoff x daughter reader and Yelena Belova x teen reader

@kassies-take

death by duvet

Word count< 1638

After a night to remember, Yelena is left to clean the sheets. She has some trouble.

Yelena Belova x reader

@subdaddyfreyr

Because i Love you

Word count< 590

So basically Yelena Belova x reader where reader wants Yelena to know how much she loves her so she puts chocolate and surprises in the pockets of her vest and maybe even puts little notes in there

Yelena Belova x reader

The recruit(on going series(all parts should be linked in the first part)

team work is never in Yelena’s vocabulary but of course, her new job changes that.

Yelena Belova x reader

more to comes

Hello!! I've been researching this specific eye condition lately (convergence insufficiency), and I realised that it could be the condition that Natasha has in your I spy fic! The condition causes double or blurred vision when doing up close tasks, which may result in headaches and one or both eyes turning outward in long term untreated cases. The person with the condition can also have perfect 20/20 vision, so it often goes undiagnosed. This condition can be further worsened by long hours at a computer and stress- it can also be helped by wearing prism glasses!💕 I have only been researching it for a bit, but I realised well it fit with the fic! My tumblr has been iffy so Im doing this as a reblog, I tried an ask but I don't think it worked out 😅:)

I Spy

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: This is based entirely on the fact that it’s Lesbian Visibility Week and I like both puns and cute girls wearing glasses. As such, it’s all a little bit of nonsense. Also, entering it into @slutfornat’s fic contest before I chicken out.

There was always more with Natasha than what met the eye. Not every pattern you could spot or even explain, but you liked to try.

There were little behaviours, the smallest of quirks that hinted more at her personality than any of the careful phrases she’d given you about herself since you joined the team.

It started when you noticed the way that Natasha would read a mission report; always at arm’s length. It gave her this air of nonchalance that you found immediately attractive. Natasha would give the details a cursory glance, barely lifting the file from the desk before placing it back. From those few seconds, she could reiterate the mission outline to anyone. You’d checked. Soon enough, you had stopped bothering to study your own mission file at all during meetings.

Keep reading

Have Mercy | natasha romanoff x black!fem!oc

Chapter Two: why not me?

warning(s): contains flashbacks of past traumatic events

pairing(s): sam wilson x jaslyn wilson (oc)

natasha romanoff x jaslyn wilson (oc)

a/n: this chapter is just a short flashback and stuff. next chapter is about her time in hydra & meeting the winter soldier. don't worry, we'll get to natasha x jaslyn soon. i'm just tryna have a build-up for her. should their ship name be jastasha? idk

have mercy masterlist chapter one

"Something is off. We should head back for now." Riley speaks into the comms. Something bad is about to happen. He could feel it in his gut as he soared through the sky alongside the two Wilson's.

"Copy that." Sam responds.

The trio turns around and make their way back to base. The plan was that once they make it back, they'd get in touch with the higher-ups and wait for the next instruction.

The sound of a faint whistle meets Jaslyn's ears but she doesn't pay any mind to it.

Big mistake.

Suddenly, Riley's left wing is hit, causing him to lose control and fall through the air.

"No! Riley!"

"Sam! Get help!" Jaslyn yells to her brother. Adrenaline coursing through her blood, Jaslyn shoots down behind a falling Riley. She gains speed and reaches her hands out in hopes of catching him before he meets the ground.

Unfortunately, Riley lands first. "No. Please, no," she pleads.

She didn't make it.

"Don't do this to me, Riles," she whimpers. The sound of her cries reach deaf ears as she cradles his lifeless body. She hears the sound of footsteps coming from behind her.

Before Jaslyn can speak another word everything around her goes dark.

----

It's been five days since the passing of his friend, Riley. And today was the day of the funeral. Sam and many others were seated in the congregation, and Jaslyn was nowhere to be found. Or anywhere for that matter. Sam doesn't know where she is. By the time he came back with the medical team and his other men, all that was left was Riley's body. No Jaslyn in range. At first, Sam assumed that she was heading back to base. But if that were the case, he would've seen her fly past him since they take the same path.

After Riley's body was taken back by airlift, the commander had another group finish the mission while the rest of them packed up to head home. It was supposed to be a simple mission. The three of them were to scan the area in search for any signs of their targets. Then head back and report what they'd seen. Both Sam and Jaslyn hadn't spotted anything unusual, but the air had felt sort of uneasy.

He waited precisely forty-eight hours before reporting Jaslyn's disappearance to the police. It would've been earlier, but Sarah had told him to stay in case she'd showed up. "You have to wait for at least twenty-four before filing a missing person report," Sarah reminded him three days earlier. "Maybe she needed time to deal with the grief on her own. You know how distant she can be when it comes to situations like this." Sarah had a point. After the death of their parents, Jaslyn had disappeared for a few weeks before returning. With that, Sam's distress slightly lessened for the time being.

There was a tiny detail that they seemed to have forgotten. Jaslyn Wilson would always leave them a note or a call to tell them she was safe. No matter what.

·˚ ₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 | natasha romanoff

. ݁₊ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 . it was a new era of her life. she no longer had missions or a team to rely on — only endless free time, and a bunch of thoughts that weren't really helpful. Natasha for once, had time to pick up her phone — something trivial. through the dating app Tony had dared her to install months ago, she meets somebody. finally, her heart was at peace.

. ݁₊ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 . smut! i am not responsible for your content consumption! — a TW for the photo editing thing. this may be a sensitive topic for some. lonely Nat, insecure Nat — she edits a picture of her body, swearing, oral (N receiving). lots of fluffy stuff, too. set after Civil War.

. ݁₊ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. this ended up SO MUCH longer than i initially planned. i put a lot of dedication into this so, yeah 🥹

thanks to my lovely @sunswish who helped me with the plot and the proofreading! ♡

The trailer was quiet, except for the faint rustle of the wind through the trees outside. Natasha sat at the small wooden table by the window, her knees pulled up to her chest, a steaming mug of tea resting untouched beside her. The Norwegian countryside was beautiful, vast and unassuming, but the stillness pressed down on her.

Her phone laid on the table, the screen dark. She stared at it for a moment, the faintest flicker of hesitation crossing her face. She’d never been good at this — being still, alone with her thoughts. For years, her life had been one constant motion: missions, battles, briefings, always moving forward because stopping meant thinking, having time to ponder about her life.

Her jaw tightened, and she looked out the window instead. What was she even doing?

She’d fought tooth and nail to become an Avenger, to carve out some sliver of redemption for herself, some sense of belonging in a world she’d spent so long working against. She’d believed in their cause, in their family, even when it meant trusting people with pieces of herself she hadn’t known she was capable of sharing.

And now? The Avengers were gone. Torn apart, like everything else she’d tried to build. She was a fugitive, hunted by the very government she’d once fought to protect. Her friends — her family — were scattered, some in hiding, some in prison. She was left with nothing but her name and a handful of private contractors who worked in the shadows. People she barely trusted, people who barely trusted her. Yet she still needed them for supplies, false documents, and a roof above her head. Funny, she thought.

She reached for her mug, her fingers curling around the warmth of the ceramic, though she didn’t take a sip. She had no mission now, no team to fall back on. No one to call when the silence became too much. She wasn’t sure if she missed the fights or the people more.

A faint vibration against the table snapped her from her thoughts. Her phone. She glanced down, the screen lighting up with a notification — some random email, one of these ‘no reply’ ones, nothing important. She hesitated, then picked it up anyway, her thumb hovering over the screen.

Scrolling through her phone felt… strange. Almost trivial. She opened Instagram, an app she barely used but kept around for the rare moments she wanted to feel tethered to something normal. The feed was full of snapshots of a life she didn’t recognize—vacations, dinners, smiling faces, people celebrating milestones she wouldn't ever have.

And right then, the name ‘Avengers’ didn’t make sense for her anymore. She was supposed to have this. This life where she would have a fun moment and think ‘oh, yes! i should absolutely shoot a pic and add to my stories’. After all, Natasha was just an unavenged girl, woman, human. A picture of a mother celebrating her daughter's birthday wasn't just one more picture showing on her feed. It was her dream.

She scrolled absently, her mind only half-engaged as her thumb flicked upward. Part of her wanted to throw the phone across the room and forget she’d ever picked it up. But another part—the quieter, lonelier part—held onto it like a lifeline.

She then receives another automatic notification. How has your love life been going? It took her a moment to remember what it was, and when she did, she let out a dry, humorless laugh.

The dating app.

She’d installed it months ago as a joke, because Tony had bet her she wouldn’t. She could still hear his voice in her head, teasing her. “Come on, Nat. You might actually meet someone who doesn’t want to kill you for once.” At the time, it was funny. She’d downloaded it, filled out the bare minimum of the profile, like: cat lover, captivating green eyes & martial arts enjoyer and promptly forgotten about it.

Her finger hovered over the icon now, her heart giving a strange, uncomfortable twirl in her chest. The idea of opening it felt absurd. What would she even say to someone? What would they see in her, beyond the scars and the lies and the mess she’d made of her life? That was made of her life? Could she even try and have a relationship? When throughout her life, she didn’t ever have a conversation about feelings? Clint was the closest attempt to that — he knew her past, more than the others, at least. So she spoke to him about things like that before. But he had a wife, kids, a home.

Natasha damned her heart every single day — for wanting a connection with somebody — for wanting to be somebody's, and for not being content with what she already has.

What does she even have?

She sighs deeply as she gathers a little bit of courage (that usually wasn't necessary when one was to open a simple app in their phone) and presses her thumb against the icon. Her eyebrows show a little frown as she realizes the app wasn’t open — she had held the icon for too long, making the options add to home and uninstall pop up on her screen.

“Goddammit,” she mutters to herself. Maybe she had done it on purpose. She considers choosing the second option. But her thumb, once again, hovers over the uninstall word for too long.

She was just confused. In conflict, with something so small. Although, she was braver than that.

“Let's just get over with this.” She mutters to herself as she finally opens the app — SparkMatch, she reads the name, for the first time. She lets out a scoff. Though the feeling of unease didn't take long before coming back to her. The about me section was completely empty, in exception for-

“Captivating green eyes. Cat lover.” she reads the words she had typed, aloud, cursing herself. It was what she had written in order to simply make the Iron Man laugh and leave her alone. “Great job, Romanoff. Truly irresistible.”

Scrolling down her profile, which was named only @Natasha1203— having in mind that her surname wasn't one to be openly shared — she finds the photos she had chosen, months ago, without really thinking much. Her gallery didn't have much cheering stuff. They were as nondescript as possible: a picture of a skyline she had taken while on the run. Her in sunglasses, her most common accessory. And.. a single closeup of her face, that felt too honest for comfort. She doesn’t know why she left that one there, for the world to stare at. Maybe it was the one moment where she caught herself looking like.. well, herself. If somebody squinted their eyes, they could see a small scar on her shoulder. She hoped people wouldn’t do that.

Summing up: the profile was a mess. And that was a perfect reflection of the person behind it. She doesn't make a move to edit any information — before remembering an important detail. It would be nice to change her profile's name, in case anybody (especially Tony, that was aware of this) tried to look for her.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203 was the new username.

Perfect. She does a little ‘tsk’ with her tongue, a little habit she developed when finishing a task.

Flirting was easy. She had been trained for it — trained in the art of seduction, molded into a woman that could slip into any persona, say the right words, touch in the right way, just to get what she needed. But this wasn't one of the spy programs she had access to in SHIELD. This wasn't about manipulation or information extracting. This was trivial. Normal.

Natasha browses through the app for a while. She stops in profiles of strangers that smiled back at her through their pictures — men, women, who were teachers, doctors, engineers. People with families and hobbies. Who had the chance to live a life without looking over their shoulders every second. Yet something about this.. gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling. It was faint, but it was there. Knowing all these little details about random folks, she could find small pieces of herself in each one: some did ballet when they were little. Some had a scar due a kitchen accident. Some did karate simply for liking the sport. Some liked peanut butter sandwiches. She quietly giggles, her previous nervousness replaced by a silly feeling.

Maybe it wasn't that bad. It is not like a random person was gonna crawl out of her phone screen and have a date right then, anyway. And there was another ‘problem’. This app was still american, while she was in a whole new timezone.

What a relief.

She shifts on the small couch of her trailer, now laying down on it, allowing herself to get entertained with SparkMatch. She even found some profiles that were probably deactivated by now, seeing that they were created, like, a decade ago. She purposefully clicked on the small heart on them, meaning Match. She softly laughs.

But the sound is interrupted by herself as she finds a specific user.

It was a minimalist profile — elegant, even. It didn't say much about the person's personality: it said enough. It wasn't extravagant or absurd like some she had found. And it certainly wasn't a mess, like hers.

Y/n. 34. Not good at small talk, but I'm a good listener. A photographer, currently traveling around. Just someone who thinks the world is too big of a place to stay idle for too long. Currently: Norway

It was truly something else, compared to the live, laugh, love bios or the gym rats flashing their abs.

Her curiosity picks up, and soon enough, she sees a picture of them in Oslo.

And it was posted just three days ago.

So they were active in this app. But this wasn't what her mind grasped. Traveling in Norway. International trips usually didn’t last just three days, right? So that meant they were still there. There with her.

Out of all countries in the world, they were there?

She reads the bio again. Currently: Norway.

A strange shiver runs down her spine the more she thinks about the situation she found herself into. She bites on her lip, her stomach twirling almost painfully, like a school girl texting her crush. She was the Black Widow, for God's sake. She didn't get to go on silly dates and receive flowers.

No. This was too much. Without closing the app, she locks the screen of her phone again and drops it to the couch, quickly standing up and running her fingers through her hair. There were many reasons why this wouldn't work, especially when she was a fugitive and could get recognized, even in a small cafe.

Heading to the tiny kitchen, she opens a drawer on the countertop and grabs a bottle opener, opening the fridge and taking a beer out. She removes the cap and downs the bottle with no second thought, the bitter liquid ripping down her throat. Deeply breathing, shakily. Amidst the vast emptiness, not only of the place she was currently settled, but of her heart too, she fought back tears. The glass of the bottle clicks against the marble countertop as she places it down, her hands tightly gripping onto the edge of the furniture, holding herself up. It was a hard decision to make, whether to take this opportunity and keep it safe in her heart, or to let it go and pretend it never happened in the first place.

But she wouldn't be able to rest tonight knowing she simply did nothing about that special person the app charitably put into her hands. So, on this night, the unshatterable Natasha Romanoff did something she never thought she would. Before heading to bed, she picked up her phone again. Gladly, she didn't have to look for the profile once more. She simply had to press onto the small heart next to their picture. And she did.

The screen flashed: It's a match!

Natasha blinked in surprise, almost dumbfounded by this message. But this was meant to happen, right? Now, she could only hope that she would receive something in return by the morning.

It felt.. good. She had something to expect, a little flicker of hope that followed her even in her dreams, that made her feel better than she could ever imagine.

And this was just the start.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

When the next day came, all of Natasha’s thoughts regarding the whirlwind of recent events were replaced by a single thing: that person. That New Yorker who was currently in Norway to take photos for a personal album. She initially wondered if she could really lower her guard like this and not think too much about Secretary Ross — who was still after her — but it was not like she would leave this trailer anytime soon. Thus, she needed a distraction, something to keep her brain entertained until this whole mess was over.

Talking to them was a relief — a solace she had been needing and didn't even know until now.

Talking to you.

Right away you had seen the match notification of SparkMatch, even if it was already one in the morning when it arrived. You sent this woman- Fanny? a message, and waited, but no response came until the next day. You wondered if she had impulsively pressed the match button and ran away from her phone out of nervousness. You actually imagined it, seeing the one picture of herself she published on her feed. Her profile was.. vague, to say at least, but she was incredibly beautiful, and indeed had captivating green eyes, like she boldly described herself. It made you smirk to your phone’s screen. No, genuinely smile.

It was pretty much clear that she wasn't a dating app person. And neither were you! You just had a better sense of organization than her, that's for sure. What if you two could really be a match?

As the day went on, you two engaged into a conversation that was surprisingly enjoyable for both sides. Opening the inbox chat, that could be found:

@Y/n: Good night. Is your real name Fanny Longbottom?

— eight hours later —

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Good morning! The first thing you ask a woman is if her name is real?

@Y/n: It just doesn't suit a beautiful redhead with captivating green eyes.

Natasha groaned to herself at this, laughing. The humor in the text was evident, and she loved that.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Right. It was a joke. You can call me.. Nat.

It was a glimpse of her name. It could be Natasha, Natalia, Natalie.. or all of these.

@Y/n: Nat.. that is better. Yet still very vague. Like your whole profile.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Perhaps my whole account here is a joke.

@Y/n: And we still matched. And sincerely, I'm intrigued. Intrigued and curious.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That’s a dangerous thing to tell someone you just met.

@Y/n: Personally, I wouldn’t call a cat lover dangerous.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Will you stop mocking me for my irresistible biography or what?

It was an easy playful banter. It felt light. Not like these conversations where you had to directly ask the other person to be nice to you.

@Y/n: You just don’t strike me as someone who spends much time on dating apps. What brings you here?

With that, she debated whether to mention Tony’s dare or not. She could talk about it, but not for now. If she’s sincere, about how much she needed not to be alone anymore, this could lead to something good, more profound.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: I’m just trying something new. What about you? Norway seems kinda away from the rest of the world.

@Y/n: It is. But sometimes you have to go far to find what you’re looking for.

Natasha leaned back, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She didn’t know who you were, or why your words seemed to settle something in her chest, but for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, she felt.. excited.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Have you found it?

@Y/n: Not yet. But I have a feeling I might be in the right place.

She stared at the message, her mind turning over the possibilities. She was already glad that this hadn’t started with “hey, you’re cute” or “what’s up?”, and now? It felt like she was in a dream — to find someone that shared her ideals, or that at least, thankfully, sounded like a mature adult.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Maybe Norway isn’t so bad after all.

@Y/n: So you’re also here!

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That seems like an excited message to me.

Gladly, her phone’s camera wasn’t capturing anything. Because she swore her eyes were sparkling right now.

@Y/n: Of course I’m excited, Nat. Now I have something else to think about other than shooting pictures.

Natasha stared at the reply, her fingers lightly brushing against the edge of her phone. There was something disarming about your words — direct, yet not forceful. And the way you used her name so casually made her blush.

She hesitated, before typing back.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: What do you shoot? Other than clever replies, apparently.

@Y/n: Street photography. Portraits, mostly. But I’ve been known to dabble in the occasional cat picture. You know, for balance.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Balance is important. What would the world do with no cat pictures?

@Y/n: I shudder to imagine it. Speaking of balance.. would you let me buy you coffee sometime? Or would that be too much?

Her breath caught. You really didn’t waste time, did you? she thought. For a moment, her walls threatened to go up again — she could almost hear that little voice in the back of her mind telling her that this was not a good idea, that it wasn’t smart, safe.

But she silenced it. It was too soon, for sure — but she couldn’t knock it till she tried it.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That depends. Are you going back to New York in the next few days?

@Y/n: I don’t have a specific date to go back. So I guess it depends on how things go.

Yeah. Now she felt a little pressured. It was a dilemma, she could be the reason you stayed or left. Adrenaline coursed through her veins — that was determination.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: It’s not like I am going anywhere anytime soon, either. But.. I like to play hard to get sometimes. How about we wait and see how things go?

@Y/n: Hard to get, huh? Well, patience is a virtue. Let me know when you feel like stopping the chase.

And you two went on like that — talking about your favorite portraits, sending her some — receiving her compliments, which sounded way too genuine for your liking. It was casual, like talking to a friend. Natasha didn't take long to start feeling comfortable with texting you. If she weren't a spy without a private number, she would've asked for your WhatsApp. Or maybe she was just exaggerating. The thing was: she didn't have to wonder about how to answer you. Your way of having conversations was so nice that she didn't feel forced to text back.

And with these new discoveries, Natasha felt like she could be in this new country without feeling too out of place. She feared that in the end this would be just one momentary experience, one of the many personas she played.

But shockingly, for once, she didn’t feel like paying attention to her overthinking.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

Weeks had passed, and the nightly silence Natasha once dreaded was now filled with something else. Her phone screen, once cold and impersonal, had become an opening to something warmer. A new phase of her life. She never thought she would be so close to a mobile device before. Supersecret agents couldn’t have personal ones other than burner phones, it was risky — they could get hacked, tracked, recognized. She didn’t have a number, or an email with her name, bank accounts, or any sort of thing that could link her to the authorities. She only had TikTok, Instagram, some games like Candy Crush Saga and her newest best friend, SparkMatch.

Everyday, without fail, your conversations flowed effortlessly. You spoke about everything: Norway’s quiet beauty, silly anecdotes, and even the mundane things that somehow became meaningful when shared. She made herself get used to the habit of not thinking much. This wasn’t part of the plan — or rather, there was no plan. This constant connection grounded her in a way she didn’t fully understand.

Having someone willingly care about her, without having to ask, beg for it — she couldn’t understand.

This evening, after eating her exquisite caviar and drinking champagne, she settled onto her couch with a blanket draped over her shoulders. Her phone buzzed, and her mind involuntarily anticipated your witty reply, or question about her day.

Instead, a picture greeted her.

It wasn’t posed or staged — just you. mid-laugh, with a goofy expression that instantly betrayed your attempt to be serious. Your hair was a bit disheveled, and the lighting was off, but the image carried a kind of authenticity Natasha couldn’t let pass. The caption reads:

@Y/n: I don’t usually do selfies, but I figured you deserved to see what you’ve been stuck talking to all this time.

It was caring. You thought about her often enough to send a picture of yourself, doing absolutely nothing important.

Natasha softly blinked at the picture, completely still as her brain worked to process what she was looking at. It wasn’t just a picture. There was trust behind it, a hidden message. She couldn’t tell where you were getting at with this action — actually, she could. She just tried to convince herself of the contrary, afraid of putting her hopes up and screwing up afterwards.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Hi. I wasn’t expecting that.

@Y/n: Hi! How are you right now?

She bites her lip, incredulously chuckling. She was almost certain that this question was supposed to come before the picture.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Better.

She was feeling better, but not just that — she was feeling.. something. Something like.. seen. Like she was remembered by someone, like she existed, for once.

And those feelings stirred something even deeper within her.

The connection was becoming deeper — it was just now that she realized that the flirting which occurred every now and then wasn’t meaningless. It had a deep impact on her, in her soul — as a friend, as a person, and mostly.. as a woman. She needed it. She needed someone to like her, to pay attention to her, to see her — intimately, closely. Even better when this someone wasn’t a superficial person, and actually one who she related to and felt like she could share this dormant part of herself.

So she decides to share a picture, too.

She sits upright on the couch, the blanket falling and pooling around her hips as she opens the camera. She switches from the back camera to the frontal one, and takes a selfie. She was wearing a simple grey tank top, so her shoulders, collarbone and neck were on display. She wasn’t smiling smiling, just briefly, just enough to make a friendly expression. It was soft, tender. Unlike the deadly Black Widow.

Thankfully, for you, she didn’t have to be that.

So she presses send, laying back again and staring at the screen in anticipation — her eyes closely watching as the send mark changed into seen, that then turned into open. It stayed like that for a long while — like you were examining the picture and weren’t ashamed of it.

It gave her goosebumps.

The typing bubble appeared again after what felt like an eternity.

@Y/n: You’re beautiful, Nat.

It was a compliment you had already used on her. But this situation? Oh, it felt so, so different. You were talking about the simplicity, the domesticity of her in this closeup, the softness.

Fueling the fire that started to burn within her on this specific day.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Just a selfie.. don't get carried away. I'm hardly camera ready.

@Y/n: It's more than a selfie for me. It made my day. If that's not camera ready, I wonder how it'll be like when you try.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Would you like to see?

Oops. She didn't think before sending this one.

@Y/n: Hell, yes.

Her mind was immersed, totally consumed by the attention you were giving her — no jokes, no hints, just shameless flirting. Standing from the couch, she walks to her small bedroom, which was already dark, gladly — she closes her door, and slumps on her bed. Seduction was her nature, she couldn't control it. Though it wasn't necessarily a bad thing right now. Reaching her hand out, she turned on her yellow dim lamp, a gentle, warm glow casting her skin, making a better environment for the incoming picture.

She reopened the camera and adjusted herself in a comfortable position — knees pulled up, her left hand resting above her stomach as she held her phone with her right one above herself — taking the photo. There was auburn red hair all over the pillows, some strands framing her face perfectly. There was skin showing — a bit of her thighs, her arms, waist.. the curves of her body leaving room for imagination.

And something that she forgot about for the longest time.

The bullet scar above her left hip.

She stared at the photo on her screen, finger hovering over the "Send" button instinctively. The lighting was perfect, the pose effortless yet captivating. Her expression was soft, relaxed — but her pupils were darkened, a hint of the sinful emotions coursing through her body. But her eyes fell to the scar.

It was unavoidable, cutting through the smooth expanse of her pale skin like a brutal reminder. The bullet scar left by the Winter Soldier, a relic of her past life, stood out glaringly in the image. Her jaw clenched as a familiar wave of self-consciousness surged through her, a feeling she thought she had buried already.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the headboard as her thumb swiped to open the editing tools. It took her less than a minute to brush the scar away, leaving her skin unmarked, untouched. Natasha tilted her head, scrutinizing the result. The photo looked… perfect. Too perfect, perhaps, but she didn’t allow herself to dwell on that.

With a deep breath, she pressed send.

Unlike your other conversations, she felt.. heavy. Like the instinct of having to show her perfect body in order to be liked was speaking louder than her rational side.

The message was delivered almost immediately, but the seconds felt drawn out, agonizingly long. When the "seen" indicator appeared, her heart raced. She bit the inside of her cheek, anticipating your response.

The reply came swiftly:

@Y/n: Wow. I’m speechless.

She smirked (bittersweetly), her thumb hesitating for only a moment before typing back.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That’s a first. Usually, you always have something to say.

The typing bubble reappeared, and she waited, her heart thudding in her chest.

@Y/n: You make it hard to think, Nat.

Natasha felt warmth flood her cheeks, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Don’t let it go to your head.

@Y/n: I think it's too late for that.

For a moment, she wondered what you would have said if you’d seen the unedited version. Would you have found it ugly? Would you have pitied her? Or would you have admired her for wearing it like the badge of survival it was?

In her dreams, you would have worshiped it.

Before she could send anything else, you decided to take a shot on meeting her in person once again.

@Y/n: I'm sorry, I'll have to suggest. How about this: I'll find the best café within a 10-mile radius, and you can tell me if my photography is as good as my coffee recommendations.

Time passed, and the accusations against Natasha had toned down a bit. Maybe, just maybe, if she's careful enough, she can do this. The first date she'd have in what, a decade?

It was refreshing. And scary. But overall refreshing.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Deal. But I will be the judge in both.

The day and place was decided — it would be in Oslo, downtown — a café, where tons of people would be present. Natasha, growing up, became a master in blending in.

If fate decided to be on her side, this would be one of the best days of her life.

She tossed her phone onto the pillow beside her and laid back, staring at the ceiling. Her fingers brushed the scar again, tracing its jagged edges as if trying to understand its place in this new chapter of her life.

“Not everyone gets to see this side of me,” she murmured to herself.

And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if that was a warning or a promise.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

The café buzzed with the warmth of chatter, the soft clinking of ceramic mugs, and the occasional burst of laughter. It was tucked into a quiet corner of downtown Oslo, a place where the world felt comfortably distant yet close enough for her to disappear if necessary. Hours before, Natasha had dressed herself up — a burgundy dress, black tights, her usual black boots — and her jacket, of course. Her hair was naturally wavy, falling down her shoulders and back — and the makeup was simple. She wasn't a woman for makeup. But this time, she wore red lipstick and the faintest glitter eyeshadow.

She felt like a doll. It was stupid, a thing she liked to imagine how it would feel like back then — in the Red Room, where the girls wore black uniforms — grey sometimes, but always robotic, always calculated. It was a comforting feeling, which made her want to go back in time and tell little Natalia: yes! we are older now, and we are all dolled up for the date of our dreams.

Natasha arrived early — of course she did. She always did. She chose a seat by the window, her back to the wall, a vantage point where she could see everyone coming and going. Her heart wasn’t racing, but there was a slight tension in her chest. She sipped her coffee slowly, the warm bitterness grounding her as she kept an eye on the door. Then, you walked in.

Her doubting thoughts flew away the moment the green eyes landed on you.

She recognized you instantly. Your smile was smaller in person but somewhat warmer, more genuine. You scanned the room briefly before your eyes landed on her, and for a moment, Natasha thought she saw your breath catch. She softly smirks, gaze involuntarily daring.

Come and get me. This? Is all for you.

She shaked that thought away as she watched you approach her table — your clothes, your style, your body language — she scanned it all. The Black Widow wasn't an easy woman to conquer, which made her dump most of the people that tried to hit on her in the past. You were a rare exception, someone who didn't even have to try to make her heart race. It happened in it’s own.

“You made it,” Natasha said, standing to greet you, to give you a quick hug — the subtle press of your body against hers making her skin tingle. Damn it. She adjusted her dress before sitting back down. You did the same, sitting in front of her.

“Of course I did. This date was all I could think about,” you reply, eyes drinking her in, like she was the prettiest woman to exist. She truly was. “No. Let me rephrase. Seeing you was all I could think about.”

Natasha lets out a soft laugh, shifting her gaze towards the floor. She was so pale that the fact that she was blushing was, unfortunately, evident.

“Feels good to finally hear your voice,” she says, resting her chin on her hand as she stares at you. “In person. Not in audio messages or calls.”

After ordering pastries and more coffee for the both of you, the conversation flowed easily, from the usual mundane topics to little jokes that made Natasha chuckle softly. She found herself studying you more and more, the way you gestured when you spoke, the way your eyes lit up when you laughed.

Eventually, the question came.

“So, what’s it like?” you asked, your voice gentle but curious. “Being an Avenger?”

Natasha paused, her fingers brushing the edge of her coffee cup. She had expected this, of course. She knew it would come up. She couldn't simply hide, not when her face had shown up on TV so many times. But if necessary, she would say that this wasn't what she wanted to be anymore. Not with you. She simply wanted to be herself around you, and not the superhero.

She wasn't Natasha who assaulted T'challa. Wasn’t the Sokovia Accords breaker. She hoped you knew by now.

“It’s… complicated,” she said after a moment, her tone measured. “Not as glamorous as it looks on TV, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You smiled. “I’m sure. But it’s still something, isn’t it? Saving the world, fighting alongside legends.”

A faint, nostalgic smile tugged at her lips. “It was something, yeah. But it wasn’t always about saving the world.” Her gaze softened as she thought back. “There was this time when Tony installed this AI in the kitchen — Friday’s cousin or something — to help us cook. It ended up burning everything it touched. Clint started calling it ‘Flamebot,’ and Steve…” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Steve tried to fix it, of course. Said it was ‘worth saving.’”

You laughed, and Natasha found herself smiling more openly. She was rambling.

“And Thor,” she continued, “he once mistook a microwave for some kind of… magical contraption. He tried to ‘summon its power’ with Mjolnir.”

“Did it work?” you teased.

Natasha smirked. “No, but we had to get a new microwave.”

The nostalgia warmed her, but it also left her feeling melancholic. She missed them. Not the missions or the battles, but the team — the messy, dysfunctional family they had become. You seemed to notice the shift in her mood and didn’t push further. Instead, you leaned in slightly, your voice soft.

“I can tell you miss them,” you said.

Natasha nodded, her walls lowering just a fraction. “Yeah. I do.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, realizing she needed some cheering up. This was supposed to be a happy day, not one to bring up sad memories. So you opened your bag, pulling out of it your camera — which made Natasha's eyes brighten up.

“You brought it!” she exclaims. “I almost forgot that you're a photographer,”

“I thought of the possibility of having to register this moment. And I was absolutely right. You look.. beautiful isn't enough to describe it,” you deeply sigh, as if surrendering to her, to this feeling of being completely in love. “Can I please take a picture of you?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. “A picture of me?” she asked, her tone teasing. “You know that’s dangerous, right? What if you decide to sell it to the tabloids?”

You laughed softly, looking at her like a lovesick puppy, shaking your head. “I’m not interested in fame, Nat. Just in you.”

That made her pause, her smirk faltering for just a second. It wasn’t often she heard something so direct, so sincere. She tilted her head, studying you with those piercing green eyes, as if trying to gauge if you meant it.

“Alright,” she said finally, leaning back in her chair. “But only if it’s a good angle. No pressure.”

You grinned, lifting the camera and adjusting the settings with practiced ease. “No such thing as a bad angle with you.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, but the blush dusting her cheeks just got worse. She straightened up, her posture relaxed yet commanding, exuding that natural grace and power.

“Like this?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, a hint of amusement in her voice.

You brought your chair closer, lowering the camera for a moment. “No. Don’t pose,” you said quietly. “Just be yourself.”

That caught her off guard. Her brow furrowed slightly, and she shifted in her seat, unsure of what to do with herself for once.

“Be myself, huh?” she murmured.

You nodded, lifting the camera again. “Exactly. I don’t need the Black Widow. I want Nat.”

Her lips parted slightly at your words, and for a fleeting moment, the mask she wore every day seemed to slip. Her shoulders relaxed, her head tilted to the side, and a genuine, very shy smile spread across her face. “I-”

Before she could protest, the shutter clicked, capturing her in that rare, unguarded moment. “Perfect,” you murmured, lowering the camera and meeting her gaze.

Natasha shook her head, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“Only the good kind,” you replied with a grin, setting the camera down.

She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand again as she studied you. “So, do I get to see it? Or are you keeping me in suspense?”

You turned the camera around, showing her the photo on the screen. Her expression softened as she took it in — the warmth in her eyes, the slight tilt of her head, the way the light framed her face, her rosy cheeks. It wasn’t just a picture. It was a glimpse of who she really was, beyond the layers of secrecy and survival. It was simply her, away from espionage, having coffee with her date.

Her unforgettable trip to Norway.

“It’s… good,” she said quietly, her voice almost hesitant.

“Good?” you ask. “It’s stunning. Just like my model.”

Oh, that…

The way you emphasized the word ‘my’.. the way you were making her feel.. actually precious. She was trapped.

“Alright,” she said, sitting back. “You’ve had your fun. Now tell me, do I at least get a copy?”

You laughed, nodding. “Of course. But only if you promise to go easy on me when I take more later.”

She smirks, her confidence returning. “We’ll see about that.”

As the evening wore, the sky showed a beautiful indigo, stars twinkling just like the sparkles in both of your sets of eyes. Natasha allowed herself to relax. To bask in this kind of normalcy that she never had the chance to experience. She had seen a lot, lived a lot. She knew what people could do in response to fear. She saw war and hatred, she saw coldness and cruelty. But from now on, she could live in a lighter way — like her heart was finally at peace.

“Should we get going?” you asked as the people also started to leave, standing and offering her a hand.

Natasha hesitated for half a second before taking it. Your touch was warm, steady, grounding, and promising. As you stepped outside, the cool air of Oslo wrapped around you. The city lights flickered like stars. Natasha felt a strange sense of calm. When she felt your arm enveloping her shoulders, her breath hitched, but she didn’t let it show — leaning into you gently.

“Where to now?” she asked, glancing at you.

“Well, the hotel, if you’re up for it,” you replied, your tone playful but not pushing.

That playfulness was a disguise for more surprises that awaited her back into the hotel room you were hosted in.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

When you unlocked the door to the hotel you're staying in, Natasha followed you inside, her steps hesitant, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The space was warm and inviting, even if it wasn't a fixed place — especially after knowing you for a good while now — tons of polaroids laying across the bed, portraits, some funko pops that you bought recently. But what caught her attention almost immediately was the bouquet of flowers resting on the counter, tied together with a simple ribbon.

Her brows furrowed slightly as she turned to you, her lips parting in surprise. She didn't even have time to look around the place. “What’s this?” she asked softly, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and vulnerability.

You stepped past her, picking up the bouquet and holding it out to her with a smile. “These are for you,” you said.

Natasha blinked, momentarily stunned. Her fingers brushed against yours as she took the bouquet, her touch delicate, as though the flowers were something precious. She examined them quietly — deep purple irises mingled with soft yellow sunflowers and a few sprigs of white heather.

“So you’re a hopeless romantic.. you didn’t take them to the café. What made you so sure I would come back to your place?”

You shrugged, leaning casually against the counter. “I wasn’t sure,” you admitted, meeting her gaze with an honesty that made her pause. “But I hoped you would. And, well, I wanted them to be a surprise. It felt more personal this way.”

Natasha glanced down at the flowers again, her fingers gently brushing over the petals. “You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

“I thought you were worth the effort,” you said simply, the sincerity in your voice making her blink rapidly, as though she was trying to process it.

Natasha smiled as she shook her head lightly, trying to dismiss the overwhelming feeling creeping up on her. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You chuckled, stepping closer. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She tilted her head, her green eyes studying you with a mixture of curiosity and warmth. “It is,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to,” you interrupted softly, stepping closer. “You deserve something beautiful. Something that shows how incredible you are, even if you can’t always see it yourself.”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. The Avenger, the unshakable spy, was speechless.

Natasha turned to face you fully, the bouquet forgotten for a moment as she searched your face. It was almost desperate, how she tried to find reassurance, anything that told her that her past wasn't a problem. “You… you don’t even know the half of it,” she murmured.

“Maybe not,” you admitted. “But I want to. Every part of it, Nat. I want to know you.”

For a long moment, she just stared at you, as if trying to decide whether she could let her walls down one more time. Talking through an app was easier. In person felt way too serious. And then, with a deep, trembling breath, she set the bouquet back on the table and closed the distance between you.

She walked with determination, her chest lightly touching yours as her hands found their way to the back of your neck. Her fingernails softly scratched in between the hair strands. She didn't know what to say — she didn't want to say anything. In this very second, she simply wanted to feel. Feel what she never had the privilege to feel as the years passed, because yes, this felt like a privilege. She stood on her tiptoes to press herself closer, doe green eyes pleading.

They told you everything, and you didn't need to be passed the message twice. Your right hand cupped her cheek as the left one wrapped around her waist, bringing her even closer.

She was an angel. Not a deadly spy. A sweet angel to be taken care of. To have her needs satisfied and tears wiped away.

As Natasha felt you responding, she allowed her eyes to close.. basking in the darkness, wanting to be enveloped by this only one sensation. This soft, intense sensation of your lips against hers, moving in a way that wasn't rushed, but wasn't too deliberate either — your hands gripping her waist and bunching the fabric of her jacket, maneuvering her back against the counter. Holding onto your shoulders, she sat on the countertop, welcoming your body between her legs. The kiss lasted. She softly whimpered as she felt your tongue brushing against her bottom lip, asking for entrance, for more of her. And she allowed it. Her head tilted to the side, moving in sync with you — as your tongues danced, a dance she hadn’t discovered before.

Needing air, you pull away, foreheads resting against one another as you deeply inhale, messily. It was torture to stop kissing her, she was good. But air was necessary. Calming down, your arms circle her waist. A smile makes its way to your lips as you see the state she was in. Flushed. And…

“I think your lipstick is a little smudged,”

Natasha felt that — every nerve of her skin was burning, including the parts with the messy makeup. She lets out a huff of air and clears her throat, trying to find her voice so she could respond.

“That was…” she whispers, her hands cradling your jaw. “Wow,”

“You are ‘wow’,” you whisper, using your thumb to wipe away the red lipstick from the corners of her lips, fixing it. “You are perfect,”

“I'm not that- I'm not,” she nervously giggled, humming as you finished fixing her up. She shifted on the countertop, her legs pressing around your hips, as if afraid of you leaving.

“I wish I could give you my set of eyes,” your hands travel down to her thighs, feeling the slightly rough fabric of her tights, but that didn't make her skin any less smoother to the touch.

Her dress was basically all the way up her hips at this point, something she hadn't paid the necessary attention to, due being too busy making out with you — and in the pit of her stomach, a small flicker of panic started rising. This was reckless, so reckless. It is not like she didn’t think of the possibility of things escalating while coming back to the hotel with you, but in her head, she would have more control over the situation — and with that, manage to keep her secrets uncovered.

But she didn’t. Her body was reacting in its own and her mind was cloudy. She had zero control.

Before you could even touch the zipper of her dress, Natasha froze. Her breathing hitched — barely noticeable if you weren’t paying attention, but you were. Her hands, which had been so confident just moments ago, trembled as they pressed gently against your chest.

“Wait,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if it might shatter if spoken any louder. “Just.. give me a second,” she muttered, avoiding your gaze as she detangled from your grasp, getting off the counter and hurrying to the bathroom.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoed through the quiet room. Natasha leaned against the sink, gripping its edges so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her reflection stared back at her — flushed cheeks, wide eyes, red marks staining the corners of her lips.

Why did she have to choose a matte lipstick?

Her fingers brushed against her side, over the spot where the bullet scar lay. She had hidden it from you before, in that photo. It had seemed harmless at the time — a small deception to preserve the image of herself she wanted you to see. But now, in the raw intimacy of this moment, it felt like a betrayal.

She turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto her face in an attempt to calm the storm raging inside her. She couldn’t lose this moment — not to her own fears, not to a scar that was just one more piece of her long and painful past. But how could she explain it? How could she show you this part of her without ruining everything?

Natasha pressed her hands to her face, inhaling deeply. It’s just a scar, she told herself. It doesn’t define me. It doesn’t change who I am.

Except that it does. And a small tear rolls down her cheek.

You’re not in the Red Room anymore, she reminded herself, gripping the sink harder. And this person… they’re different. They don’t expect you to be perfect. They just want you.

The doubt, the fears that you managed to keep away from her in the past month, came back to her — only a thousand times more painful.

Regardless, Natasha didn't have any more time to think, before she heard the doorknob turning, the damn door she didn't lock opening. She kept her head low, her body stiff as she continued to hold onto the sink. You could see her reflection in the mirror clearly. The fact that she was silently shedding tears.

“You're crying,” you state quietly, taking baby steps towards her.

“And you're bold,” she chuckles, the sound a mixture of tears and sarcasm. She sniffles, using her arm to wipe her nose. “Entering like that.”

“You're crying.” you shake your head, once again standing face to face with her. You reach out your hands and cup her tear stained cheeks. “What's wrong?”

“I…” she debated what to tell you. That she was afraid of physical intimacy since she was young? Or that she hid a crucial thing about her body all this time? “I don't know-”

“You’re hiding something from me and are afraid I’m gonna hate you?” you inquire, voice serious — not mocking, not pressuring.

What?

Her eyes go wide instantly, the tears stopping. You wipe them away from her cheeks, expression softening again as you prepared to explain yourself. “You’re part of a New Yorker superheroes team. There was absolutely nothing that spoke about your personality in SparkMatch, which is expected, Nat. I’m aware that there’s a lot that I don’t know about you. I know where I’m getting myself into.”

“For the longest time, all I wanted was company. Someone to talk to, to listen to me, and that I could listen to them. Someone to see me,” she quietly confesses, leaning her cheeks into your palms. “You did just that. You’re that person.. you filled a huge void in me. You saved me in more ways that you could ever know.”

“I’m so grateful for that.” you lean closer, pressing a lingering kiss against her forehead. She shyly wrapped her arms around your waist, her eyes searching yours once more.

“It’s not just that…” she adds, her breath hitching. She was now determined to continue from where you left off on the entrance counter. “I longed- I long for.. touches, and..”

“And closeness,” you complete, head dipping down and tucking itself into the crook of her neck. “Geez, you smell delicious,”

“It’s… Twilly D’Hermès,” breathless, Natasha speaks, a small hint of pride in her tone as she spoke about her moisturizing cream. “My body lotion,”

It wasn’t cheap, but she liked to spoil herself sometimes. It was also great to deal with the constant bruises and cuts on her skin. Your brows raise in surprise, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips. Natasha could feel the warmth of your breath on her neck, a surge of happiness and ecstasy washing over her.

“That’s.. pretty luxurious, one can say.”

“Can’t a woman spoil herself sometimes?” she retorts — interrupted by a gasp that left her as your lips pressed against her neck. Her eyes flutter shut, her hands holding onto your arms as she did her best to keep talking. “B-Besides, years of bruises and burns require good skincare.”

“I see,” you hum, nuzzling into her, into the spot behind her ear. She felt soft today. Now you knew the reason. After staying like that for a while, you pull back, looking into her eyes with a gaze that showed admiration, respect and concern towards her comfort. “Can I?”

She deeply inhales, feeling you reach for her dress again — only more mindfully now. Shrugging her jacket off her shoulders, she places it next to her on the sink and nods.

She was prepared for the question.

“Okay, hold on.” you kneel down, beginning to untie her boots, catching her by surprise. You remove them and place them aside, before slowly pulling down her tights. “Damn. Why did you have to wear something so complicated?”

“I wanted to feel beautiful,” she quietly chuckles, allowing you to get rid of the excessive fabric on her body.

So, it's time for the dress. You got up to your feet and slid your palm up her spine, holding onto the zipper and then pulling it down. Natasha was expectant, self aware, but mainly, consumed by her desire — finally awake again.

“I'll make you feel beautiful,” you nod, pushing the dress straps off her shoulders and sliding them down her arms.

“You already do.” She breathes.

She doesn't stop you from getting her off the dress. But when it stops below her hips, she tenses up. That's because she sees you freezing. To look at her. It's strange, to have someone look at her body with no apparent emotion. You didn't look at her as if she were a prize to win — an object, or a weapon. Helping her step off the dress, you toss it aside on the floor. Now nothing was disturbing you from taking her in. Her black underwear. Her toned muscles — which you assumed were from years of workout. And her scars. Cuts, a few small keloids, and the bullet scar.

“You didn’t have to hide this from me.” you breathe, dropping to your knees once more as you held her by the hips. She found herself leaning against the sink’s counter, breathing ragged, every nerve of her body buzzing in anticipation. “Makes you even more gorgeous.”

“I—”

“You're fucking gorgeous.” you hiss, kissing above the place that once had a bullet in.

Yup. Her dreams came true.

“Please,” she murmurs, not knowing how to vocalize what she wanted. But the heat pooling between her thighs told you everything.

Your lips make a path from her hip down to her pelvic bone, right hand grabbing her thigh and putting it on your shoulder — coaxing a gasp out of her. Your palm covers her scar, as though it were something precious about herself — making her feel safe, above everything. Natasha, for a moment, almost lost her balance — having to hold her weight with one foot — as your pointer finger hooked around the soaked fabric of her panties, pulling it to the side. You gave her one look. One look before diving in.

You are no longer alone.

She took the message. And her world exploded.

Your tongue working on her — licking past her folds, tasting her — as if committing to memory, and not just using her — her slender fingers tangling into your hair, pulling your head closer to her core, soft moans leaving her mouth as if there was no tomorrow.

“Yes,” She gasps, her hips bucking, seeking more of the kitten licks you showered her clitoris with. “Don't stop.”

None of her sexual experiences had been good in the past — not in the slightest. So having something so good, so pleasuring — it was truly her first.

In the Norwegian hotel, Natasha was more Avenged than she ever was with the Avengers. In the end of the night, she ended up with you on the bed — your clothes making each other company on the floor, as she lost herself — in your body, your scent, your hands on her,

and your love for her.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

You were tucked under the covers when the bathroom's door opened — the hot steam of her recent shower now dispersing and mingling with the air. You sat up, leaning against the headboard as you watched her with a smile.

Natasha walked towards you, the white hotel's towel in her hands, drying her damp hair. She was wearing a t-shirt you lent her, which was probably three times her size. She was smiling. Happily.

Before climbing back onto the bed, she absentmindedly placed the wet towel on an armchair. She gently settled onto your lap, straddling your hips, her head instantly nesting on your shoulder.

“Hi, baby.” you embrace her.

“If I have to leave the country, for any reasons,” she says, her hands tracing random patterns on your back. “Will you come with me?”

“I'll go anywhere with you.” you reply, voice unwavering.

She released the air she didn't know she was holding, and allows herself to relax her sore body. She nuzzled closer as you played with her still damp hair.

Maybe dating apps weren't so bad, after all. If she ever saw her team or Tony again, she would thank him for making her install it.

“Oh, and by the way,”

Natasha whispers, finally. Probably, you were aware. But it was one more thing about her true self she wanted you to know.

“My name is Natalia.”