#slightly smarter nat
Note
What about a Natasha Romanoff X female avenger!R where Natasha has constant nightmares and has a hard time falling asleep. Then one night she finds R in the compound living room watching TV or something cause R is a night owl or just hanging around, so the red head joins her. It’s going great and Nat starts to relax but then R starts giving signs of heading to bed but Nat prolongs or suggests other things to do like have tea, watch a movie, braid hair, paint nails, anything she can come up with to not let R leave her alone and having to go back to sleep in fear of the nightmares coming back. Eventually R catches on what’s happening and asks why Nat is not letting her go to sleep and the Russian confesses, feeling guilty for keeping R from going to bed. But then R suggests Nat sleep in her room, like a sleepover, and by the end feelings are confessed! Sorry for being specific!! You write Natasha so well and on point!! I always love seeing (reading) this soft side of her!!
Favourite Person || Natasha Romanoff
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of nightmares, mention of trauma, mentions of the Red Room, explicit language. If I have missed any warnings, please let me know.
Word Count: 5127 words.
A/N: Thank you so much for the request Anon, (I’m so sorry it’s late). To the anon that requested this fic, if you are not happy with it and would like me to re-write it, I will happily do so. I hope you all enjoy! Please note this is an au so some character’s behaviours may be different to what is expected.
Please do not repost (on here or any social media platform), copy, translate or take ownership of my work. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3.
Masterlist
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Favourite Person: Natasha Romanoff-
“No, no please- just let me go!”
The somewhat delicate yet rasping sounds of pleading whimpers of desired escape fill the momentarily still bedroom belonging to that of Natasha Romanoff.
Desperate intakes of air in combination with mind numbing struggles against a dream-like battle that she fails to overcome each night she’s graced with even a substantial set of hours to sleep, plague her traumatised mind.
With one final desperate gust of air surging through her windpipe, she forces her now awakened self up from the sweat-tainted mattress that supports her body.
Glistening, tear-filled eyes frantically roam the features of the room as Natasha scans her environment for any potential intruder destined to cause harm to her.
With a soft and grounding clutch to her Anchor shaded comforter, she concludes that she’s safe for another night; and that her wicked past has once again robbed her of another night of a peaceful and yet craved slumber.
Natasha can’t help as her hands roam her heated skin, having the urge to fidget as her mind fails to come down from the relentless period of memories belonging to that of the Red Room- ones that she would be ever so quick to forget if she was given the opportunity.
Knowing any further hours designated to sleep were off the table, Natasha leans her trembling body over to her bedside table- hoping to deliver herself a well needed drink of water to not only lessen her now dry throat, but to have the calming effect needed to slow her rapidly pacing heart rate down.
Much to her dismay, as she grasps the hardened plastic cup that once held a heaped amount of water in it; she soon realises her cup is now empty.
Having had her right to drink forfeited, she releases a gentle breath of frustration, alongside a string of Russian curses at the continuous, nightly bad luck that seems to be lurking its way to her recently.
One night she hopes she can have a dreamless sleep just to gather up enough energy to carry out her duties as an Avenger, and to stop her waking mind from reliving the nightmares from the night before. Though that seems like too much to ask.
Refusing to re-enter her nightmares once more during the nightly period, she sleepily hoists her body out from between her sheets. Ensuring she gives herself a moment to steady her breathing before leaving her darkened room.
Knowing she is ready, she quickly swipes her empty cup from her bedside table and ever so quietly makes her way to her bedroom door; taking extra care when turning the doorknob to exit the room with as minimal levels of noise as possible. She’d hate herself for disturbing any of her teammates with her late night adventure to the kitchen. Just because she can’t sleep, why should they pay the price in losing sleep also?
Little does Natasha know, one teammate in particular would lose countless hours of sleep to ensure the redhead was safe and secure in any situation- especially when her haunting dreams take their toll.
As Natasha makes her way through the narrow pathways leading to her desired location; she picks up a little tune on the side of her cup, allowing her nails to tap mindlessly against the smooth surface. Hoping her mind chooses to focus on the range of movements needed to continue the repeated pattern, opposed to the horrors lingering from within.
That is until her ears pick up on muffled voices coming from the living area of the Compound.
Natasha’s entire system freezes; in her sleepy and somewhat confused state of mind, her thoughts rush to the most terrifying conclusions:
The voices could belong to Hydra members; desperate to seek and steal documents from the Avengers. It could be the Red Room, sending their final wave of untraceable Widows to finish Natasha and Yelena off, and in the process take out the Avengers.
With a vice, tight grip now on her cup, Natasha steadily allows her feet to move herself towards the noise source in a stealthy manner- attempting to gauge the seriousness of the situation and to determine how much force will be needed to deal with the potential intruders.
Natasha unknowingly releases laboured breaths, each step filling her body with a dread that she has not felt since she was a child roaming the hallways of the Red Room itself. Desperately trying to move from one room to another without being punished for stepping in the incorrect sequence or even making too much noise when she is so harshly trained to be as silent as a whisper.
As Natasha lines her back with the edge of the wall leading to the Living Area and Kitchen, she inhales a steady breath, knocking herself into her ruthless ‘Black Widow’ nature. With a hardened glare, she moves her line of sight around the corner to which her entire demeanour drops as soon as she spots the unexpected scene unfolding in front of her.
She finds you laying across the couch haphazardly as you stare at the TV screen illuminating the room in a gentle, blue hue as the muffled voices that Natasha mistakenly thought to be intruders continue- seemingly now belonging to the show that entraps your attention currently.
Natasha slowly moves closer to you, noticing more details as she approaches: like how one of your legs swings over the edging of the sofa in a careless motion as you stare at the images dancing across the screen; how you lazily place singular pieces of popcorn on your tongue in anticipation to bite down on the slightly hardened texture of the food item. Even how you carefully rest your head on your supported hand, tilting your gaze in wonderment of the information being gathered from the show of your choice.
She can’t help but stare at you in awe, finding it highly difficult to recall an instance where she has known you to be so calm and collected. Even being in your presence has removed some of the tension that had been built up in her muscles since she woke up from her nightmare.
She must admit, she’s relieved to find you of all people out here. Out of all the members of the team recently, you’ve been one of the only ones who can effortlessly put a smile on her face- something she is in desperate need of in her current state.
Having the overwhelming sense to join you, she chooses to clear her throat, snapping you out of your TV trance once you register her presence.
You quickly reach for the TV remote and eagerly press down on the mute button as you go to speak to Natasha, “Oh, hey, sorry did I wake you up?”
Natasha quickly shakes her head, “No, I just- I wanted some more water. I didn’t expect anyone else to be up so late.” Natasha silently scolds herself for her awkward stuttering for an answer. Though she knows she’s not quite ready to burden you with her night terrors, part of her feels the added weight of keeping the anxiety surrounding them in once more.
You push yourself up from the couch with a slight groan, having been in the same position for several hours straight, “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m more of a ‘night owl’ than anything so usually I watch my shows in my room but my TV is busted. Tony said he will fix it for me tomorrow so this is more of a one off.” You say as you gesture to the scene around you.
Natasha takes in your words as she draws invisible patterns on her cup, “Don’t apologise, it’s nice to have some company at this time of night.” Natasha says genuinely, usually having to face the aftermath of her nightmares alone until the more reasonable hours of the morning.
“What are you watching?” She attempts to guide the conversation forward.
You raise your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting Natasha to show an interest, “Oh, um Cupcake Wars.” You answer with glee.
Natasha smirks at your show choice, “Cupcake Wars? Really?” She says in a humoured manner.
You tilt your head with a narrowed gaze, “Judgment? Really?” You remark in a light manner, earning a chuckle from the Black Widow herself.
You lick your lips before you go to speak again, “You can blame Yelena for this, I wasn’t even into it until she made me watch it.”
Natasha scoffs in disbelief, never having assumed Yelena would even be into shows such as this, “Yelena? My sister? The lean, mean Mac n’ Cheese loving machine?”
You laugh at her words, knowing upon Yelena’s arrival to the Avengers she was eager to let it be known of her efficiency as a former member of the Red Room and how ambitious she can be in her line of work, but to her Sister and friends, she’s as soft as they come.
“Well yes, your sister, who I happened to be paired up with on a Recon Mission in December, decided that we needed to fulfil our ‘authentic American Christmas’, by watching the ‘Holiday Special’ of this series whilst we waited for Hydra to mess up and give us intel. Ever since then we’ve watched every episode, and we can mutually agree it’s the best decision we have ever made.” You playfully put it to Natasha, knowing she loves hearing the details of how well Yelena is settling into her new life away from the Red Room- the now secure life the two of them deserve.
Natasha beams at the information, relieved that Yelena is finding comfort within the Avengers, “Thank you for including her.” Natasha simply says, extremely grateful for your kindness, not only towards her, but to her little sister.
You smile at Natasha’s words, “Of course, it’s the same kindness you showed me when I first arrived at the Compound.”
Natasha rolls her eyes at your words, “Oh, believe me, it was a hard task being kind to you. You were feral.” Natasha attempts to tease you, knowing your first impressions of each other has been a running gag in your friendship for years.
You release an exaggerated gasp at her words, “Well, we both know I had Tony as my mentor so what did everyone expect to happen honestly?! I think I turned out pretty good considering my Avenger upbringing.” You lift yourself up to tuck one of your legs underneath yourself, seemingly becoming more engaged in the conversation through excitement of having Natasha close by.
Natasha pouts her lip and nods along to your words, “Sure, sure, we’ll let you believe that y/l/n.”
You quickly pick up a piece of popcorn to throw at Natasha, allowing your joyful laughs to fill the room.
Natasha easily catches the rogue piece of Popcorn, shoving it into her mouth for good measure, before bringing up the subject she has been dreading since she engaged in conversation with you, “I guess I had better grab my drink and leave you be. Goodnight, y/n.”
Your momentarily excited features drop slightly at Natasha’s words and loss of presence, you love being in her company. Majority of the time she’s the main source of happiness you can grasp at, with having some horrific events occur from your job, it’s refreshing having that comfort person you can call your friend- that person being Natasha.
Part of you also picks up on the depressed features of Natasha’s posture; usually present when something is on her mind or after a gruelling Mission.
You fail to anticipate your own moves when you hear Natasha returning from the Kitchen area of the Compound. Before you have time to think, your mouth opens up to release your next statement, “Hey, Nat. Would you like to watch a movie or something? This episode is nearly done and I’m not quite ready to go to bed yet.” You attempt to place the reasonings behind your question on yourself, hoping that if there is something Natasha wants to talk about, that she will feel comfortable enough to do so if she feels as though you invited her to hang out with yourself; rather than her having to ask.
Natasha stops her movements at your words, a flood of relief building up inside herself at your question. She desperately wanted to ask you herself, but the nipping feeling of guilt from intrusion of your alone time played on her mind so much so that she was too afraid to stay in your company.
As the overwhelming emotion of reassurance takes over Natasha, she chooses to nod at your question; failing to hide the string of grateful tears that line her exhausted eyes and knowing a waver in her voice would give away her fear of the night.
When Natasha moves to round the couch, she can’t help but smile at your effort to clear the perfect space for her to join you.
You instantly begin a clear down of the area, removing stray pieces of popcorn that somehow fell from your grasp during your Cupcake Wars marathon. You move to straighten up the charcoal tinted pillows; fluffing them up to mimic a comforting environment for Natasha to settle in to.
Once you look over your work and determine the couch to be satisfactory for Natasha, you dramatically wave for her to sit down. To which she does with an eye roll and a laugh.
As you reach for the TV remote and settle into your previous spot on the couch, Natasha sets her cup of water on the coffee table, waiting for you to choose the perfect movie for the two of you to watch together.
Though to her surprise, you stretch your arm out towards her, handing her the remote for control of the TV.
Natasha quirks a curious eyebrow at your gesture, “Y/n, what are you doing?”
You match her curious look at her question, “I want you to choose what we watch, Nat. Pick anything, I don’t mind.” You say with a comforting smile of reassurance.
Natasha hesitantly removes the remote from your outstretched hand, studying the array of buttons decorating it, “Are you sure? This is your time to-“
You interrupt Natasha, remembering the countless times she has been refused a choice on movie night, due to Tony’s unfair system of choosing the designated movie of the night- somehow it always ends up being one of his favourites…
“Natasha, I am more than positive that I want you to choose. Plus, this is our shared time to hang out, pick anything you would like.”
Natasha stares at you for a moment longer, attempting to detect a hint of change in your answer. When she realises you’re serious in your offer, she uses the the button to scroll through endless amounts of movie titles that all blend into a colourful blur after a minute or two.
That is until her eyes land on one of her comfort movies- Moonraker.
She allows the remote’s cursor to hover over the poster assigned to the James Bond movie on the list available, determining her options on how to approach asking you if this was an acceptable choice.
You soon notice the longing of the highlighted movie choice on the screen and the conflicted features crossing Natasha’s face as she has her own mental battle.
You turn yourself to gather Natasha’s attention, “Hey, is this the movie you want to watch?” You gently ask, trying not to push her in any way.
Natasha fidgets with the remote in her hands as she ponders a response, “Yeah, it’s a comfort movie. Is that okay?” She asks you calculatedly, worried you’ll reject the idea.
You reach over the back of the couch for a blanket left behind from a previous movie night, styling it out to cover yourself, “Of course it is, I’d love to watch it with you Natasha. Put it on,” You say as you tap the open space next you, alongside a lift of the blanket, intended to cover Natasha with.
Natasha wastes no time in pressing play to start the movie as she slides across the couch and into your embrace. What may seem as a small gesture to you, is a relieving gesture for Natasha.
Not only have you granted her the comfort of her go to movie of all time, but embracing her in a warm manner heightens the idea of Natasha being truly safe within the Compound.
As the two of you snuggle into the couch in anticipation of watching the movie; all the previous, dark thoughts from earlier in the night have evaded Natasha’s mind completely.
Hopefully it remains that way.
——-
Just as the final scene of the movie commences; the end credits begin to roll out on the screen, signifying the end of the action-packed sequence.
Natasha continues to watch the screen in a dazed state, happily losing herself within the familiar scenes of Moonraker.
However, she comes back to her senses once she feels you stretch your body out from beneath her, having cuddled up to you closer and closer as the movie has played.
You quickly finish stretching your arms and legs out, you take a moment to glance at your watch and release a low whistle at the time illuminating your watch face, “Wow, 4 am already? Shit, sorry Nat, I didn’t mean to keep you up so long.” You start to push yourself up from the cushioned layer of the couch, signalling for Natasha to move up also.
As she discards the blanket aside, a wave of uneasiness settles within her. She doesn’t want to go back to bed now, she dreads to think of what horrors await her in her dreams once she closes her eyes again. She was beginning to feel safe in your company, but now you’re readying yourself to go to bed, she’s terrified that you’ll leave her alone with her thoughts.
With her endless thoughts of torment, she stares at the now blank TV in thought. You notice her vacant expression, allowing you to kneel down in front of her and gently place your hands on her knees.
Natasha jumps slightly at your touch, however she soon places her hands on top of yours to signal that your comforting efforts are welcome, “Natasha, are you ready to head back to bed?” You ask cautiously, remaining ignorant to the issue at hand.
Natasha rubs her soft hands across the delicate skin of yours as she goes to speak, “You know, we’ve still got a bit of time to hang out before the others get up. We could try some of that new tea brand Tony bought as a trial for the Team; we could watch another movie, there’s plenty of James Bond movies for you to catch up on-“
Your eyes scan Natasha’s face as she rambles out endless ways in which the two of you should stay up for a little bit longer, “Natasha-“
Natasha shakes her head as she continues her plea, desperate for you to agree with her and stay up, “Oh, I could show you how to do those Dutch braids you like in your hair. You’re always saying how much you want to learn-“
“Natasha!”
The raise in your voice throws Natasha out of her rant, unwillingly sending a pang of fear into her chest.
As you recognise the disheartening features spreading across Natasha’s persona, you make an effort to rub reassuring circles on her arms, encouraging her to relax, “What’s going on? Why are you so adamant for us to stay up?”
Natasha fails to conceal the tears that line her eyes once again, frustration making itself known, “I can’t tell you, you’ll think I’m being ridiculous.” She whispers out, not caring that you’re seeing her in what she’d consider a weakened state.
You move to sit next to her closely, wrapping a protective arm around her, “Natasha, I could never think you’re ridiculous. You’re the strongest person I know, and if something is upsetting you this much- to the point where you don’t want me to go to bed, then I want to do everything in my power to help you. I promise you, I won’t judge you, I just want to help.”
Natasha allows her tears of despair to run down her face as she looks at you, understanding the sincerity of your words. She chooses to confide in you, “Ever since I could remember, I’ve had the most horrific dreams from my time in the Red Room, and even from certain Missions. They feel so real, I hear the pain from past victims of my actions; the drilling voices of those who kept me in the Red Room and made me what I am today-“
You give Natasha the room to talk, hating the fact you didn’t pick up on her suffering sooner- though this is Natasha Romanoff, when she wants to hide something, she does so without a trace.
“Usually when I wake up, everyone else is asleep so I just wait until someone else wakes up and pretend I got up early to train or something. No one ever notices, I hide it well, just like I’ve been taught to all these years. Then tonight, you were here, and I just felt safe and secure, you just know how to make me feel calm and appreciated. I’m sorry for putting this on you y/n, I just wanted to feel safe.”
You turn away briefly from Natasha to hide your own tears upon hearing her pain, with one deep breath you move to rest your forehead on top of Natasha’s fiery red locks, “Natasha, you’re not putting anything on me okay. I mean it when I say I want to do everything in my power to make you feel safe. I understand why you wanted to stay up longer, but do you think if we go to bed in my room or something, you might feel safe enough to sleep?”
Natasha slowly lifts her head up from under yours to catch your gaze, “You’d do that for me?”
You instantly nod, “Of course I will, I’ll do anything for you Natasha.”
Natasha bites her lip at your words, never having believed she could be so lucky to have someone like you in her life, “Thank you y/n. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
You pick yourself up from the couch and hold a supportive hand out to Natasha, which she gladly takes. Once you have switched all the necessary devices off in the living area and kitchen, you guide Natasha to your bedroom, “I think I do, but you’re still going to teach me how to braid my hair right?” You question Natasha, earning a light chuckle from her.
“I suppose I can look over my very busy schedule and fit you in somewhere.” Natasha lets out, allowing the anxieties of the night to vacate her mind.
“I’m sure there’s plenty of room in your schedule for your favourite person.” You reply, mindlessly following the corridors to your designated area of the compound.
Once you arrive at your door, Natasha raises a tired yet questioning brow, “Who said you were my favourite?”
You give her a light shrug, “I just know you can’t argue with logic.”
Natasha smirks as she moves into your room, noticing the minor details scattered across the area that makes the room entirely yours, once you move to switch your bedside lamp on to highlight the features more.
Natasha stands in the middle of the room, hesitant to move anywhere without your word.
You make quick work of straightening out your bed for Natasha; hiding any loose items that are long overdue their clean up as you refuse to admit the last time your room had a good clean out.
“Okay, the bed is ready for you. I’ll take the couch-“
Natasha frowns at your words, “We’re not sharing?”
You stop your actions as you attempt to make the couch into a makeshift bed for the night, “I don’t mind taking the couch honestly, it’s… comfy.” You say in an unconvincing tone, earning an eye roll from Natasha.
“Come on, we can share the bed, I don’t bite.” Natasha says as she eagerly settles into your soft and comforting sheets.
You silently release a breath of relief, having saved your back from a rough night of sleep on the outdated couch lumbered in your room.
Once you switch off your light, you easily slide into the other side of the bed, next to Natasha. Allowing your body to relax itself into your heavenly, cushioned mattress.
Assuming the sudden silence was reserved for sleeping, you close your eyes and bask in your comforting surroundings. Until a voice fills the hushed atmosphere, “Are you still awake?”
You release a relaxed breath as you go to reply, “Yeah, are you?”
Natasha releases a laugh from beside you, “Who do you think asked you doofus.” Natasha teases.
You roll on your side to face Natasha, using the minor elements of moonlight seeping through your blinds to study Natasha’s magnificent features, “Well J.A.R.V.I.S is quite the conversationalist at night, so pardon me for being curious to whom I am addressing Romanoff.” You say in the most serious tone you can muster- extremely low severity.
Natasha smiles brightly at your lightheartedness, “Sometimes I do wonder about you y/l/n.”
You tilt your head in challenge at Natasha’s words, “Oh yeah? What do you wonder about Nat?”
Natasha’s features fall into a stoic nature as she thinks of what to say, “I wonder how someone as loving and caring as you, would willingly want to hang around with someone like me?”
Your body shifts in discomfort at her words, sensing a tone of insecurity, “Someone like you? That’s not a bad thing Natasha.”
Natasha nods at your words, “It is, y/n, I know how people see me. Some ruthless monster who’s only worth is that of being a product of the Red Room. An assassin, produced to kill without fear or hesitation-“
You abruptly push yourself up to study Natasha in disbelief, “Natasha, that’s your nightmares talking. The Natasha I know, the real Natasha is so kind, considerate and incredible. You never fail to care for those around you. Hell, I bet you’ve saved more lives being an Avenger, than lives you were forced to take under the Red Room. Natasha you’re worth so much more than a brand under the Red Room.”
Natasha looks away from you as you continue your truths, having only her nightmares confirm her greatest fears.
“Natasha, you do realise none of the past was your fault. The Red Room took you, melted your mind and melded it into something cruel. It wasn’t your fault they did that to you and it certainly isn’t your fault that they controlled you to a point where you weren’t even of a conscious mind to understand the consequences of the actions they ordered you to do.”
You gently cup Natasha’s face and instantly swipe away a pained tear escaping her eye, “You’re not a monster, you’re a hero- my hero. Nat, you inspire me to be the best Avenger I can be. You inspire so many people around the world to protect others and do what is right. If I ever hear anyone saying anything different, I’ll kick their ass.” You add for good measure, earning a dry chuckle from Natasha.
“You’re not part of the Red Room, you’re Natasha Romanoff- Avenger, Hero and quite honestly the best thing this Planet has ever given us-“
Your words of wisdom are cut off once Natasha attaches her lips to yours, fulfilling every ounce of gratitude into one delicate and addictive kiss.
As Natasha slowly pulls away, she can’t help but bite her lip in amusement at your dazed features, “You can breathe you know y/n.”
You blink extremely slowly as your mind is sent into a frenzy of pure happiness, “Um, what were we talking about?” You suddenly ask, not knowing what else to do under the current circumstances.
Natasha pulls you down onto the bed as she moves to rest her head on your chest- its rightful space, “I’m pretty sure we were talking about how you’re my favourite person?” Natasha playfully adds.
You nod along as you pull Natasha closer towards you, “Hmm, that does sound accurate.”
With a quick mumble of ‘dork’ from Natasha, the two of you settle down for a night of slumber. Finding safety and security in each other’s arms.
——-
Soft, delicate finger tipped brushes against your rib cage wake you up from your relaxed slumber.
As your eyes flutter open, they meet ethereal green irises as they study your sleepy state.
Natasha leans up to press a gentle kiss on your forehead, allowing you to release a sigh of content at the comforting gesture, “Good morning, y/n/n.”
You sleepily smile at the sound of Natasha’s raspy voice, never failing to have your heart fluttering in excitement, “Good morning Nat, how did you sleep?” You nervously ask, hoping with every ounce of your being that she was able to rest after her nightmares.
Natasha initially responds with a glamorous smile, allowing you to replicate it to the same effect, “That was probably the best sleep I’ve had in over ten years.” She giddily lets out.
You pull her into your embrace, “No nightmares?”
Natasha nods to confirm, “No nightmares.”
You place an ecstatic kiss on the crown of her head, over the moon with the possibility that Natasha may be able to escape her nightmares.
“You know, maybe we should make this sleepover thing a permanent thing?” You ask sleepily.
Natasha hums at your words, “Well, I don’t see why not. Your bed is pretty comfortable.”
You laugh at Natasha's choice of comfort, “What about the person you’re currently cuddling?”
Natasha shrugs lightly, “I suppose they’re okay, the cuddles are a bonus.”
You smile at her words, “Well maybe I’ll have to deduct the cuddle clause from the agreement.”
Natasha tightens her grip on your body impossibly tight, “Try it and you’ll see why they say my Widow Bite Stings pack a nasty punch.”
“Oh well, we wouldn’t want to test that out.”
“Nope.” Natasha replies as she settles back into your embrace.
You allow a few seconds to pass before you bring up your next question, “What if-“
“No.” Natasha says with a flick of her fingers delivered to your forehead, eager to have you sleep in a little bit longer.
It’s safe to say that Natasha Romanoff is most definitely your favourite person.
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Taglist: @beefromanoff
#natasha romanoff#marvel#mcu#black widow#natasha romanoff one shot#natasha romanoff x reader#marvel fan fic#slightly smarter nat’s writing#slightly smarter nat#slightly smarter nat’s requests#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff fic#natasha x reader#anon request#black widow x reader#avenger reader#avengers imagine#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff fanfic
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Hello my lovely
1. Gamer Kate
7. Hatter Yelena
9. Beast Kate
12. Doctor Wanda
35. Crime boss Natasha
46. Queen of Hearts Wanda
Hiii 🥰
1. What type of video game do they play? How do they play it?
Ohh I forgot about my little gremlin of a wife, gamer Kate.
She plays pretty much any video game someone recommends to her at least once, but I can see her being really into first person shooter games or being a Fortnite player exclusively. And her favourite way to play any game is obviously in her gaming chair with you cockwarming her or sucking her strap 😌
2. Are they big on books? If so, do they read books as they buy them or end up with a long to-read list?
I feel like her attention span is too short for books, but she filled her house with them when she first took you because she knew how much you love to read. Unlike beast Kate, she cant sit still long enough for you to read to her, but she likes listening to it while she maybe cooks or does something else.
9. What are they weirdly good at?
Handstands. She’s got the core strength of a champ, so she could hold a handstand for hours if she wanted to. While you find it an odd skill for her to have, you don’t mind her showing off her talent if it means you get to watch her muscles flex while she does it.
12. What's their favorite holiday?
Autumn. She loves the colours of the leaves, the hot cocoa, and you constantly coming into the office because you’re scared you’re getting the flu.
35. Do they like weird ice cream flavors?
She goes to a lot of different places, so she’s tried a lot. Plus sometimes she gets stuck in lockdown when she has to lay low. In any case, she has to have a fairly wide pallet, so she likes pretty much any food, and enjoys getting you to try them too.
46. Do they get into arguments/debates for fun? If so, what about?
SPOILERS FOR MY ‘DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE’ SERIES!!!
Wanda loves to get in petty arguments/fights for fun, and she loves to start them. Her favourite is taunting Yelena by teasing you.
Please send asks in, I love these!
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🌷🌼 Send this to ten bloggers you think are wonderful. Keep the game going! (no pressure) 🌼🌷 ❤️❤️
Thank you thank you 🥰🥰<33
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Memory
Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
You feel like you’ve met her before, but you just can’t remember when or how. It turns out there’s a lot you don’t remember
Note: Hey y’all. I have been swamped these last couple of weeks studying for and taking a part of the cpa exam, but I finally had a free moment to have some fun. I went and saw Argylle, so this is loosely inspired by that. Enjoy it!
Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist
The room is silent aside from the clicks of a keyboard as Natasha tries to break through a firewall. She’s smart, but the person who created it is slightly smarter than her.
The redhead smirks when she is one step from breaking through, but her cheekiness doesn’t last. An alarm sounds and she’s met with at least ten agents swarming all around her.
“Oh hey, guess you guys found the party,” she says in her usual cool under pressure tone.
She uses the agents’ hesitation to begin attacking them to deal the first blows. She takes them down two at a time until there’s only one left. She knows who he is.
“Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?” Natasha asks.
“You know what I want,” he says.
“And you know what I want,” Nat replies.
The two of them keep their guns in ready position. Nat alerted for backup, but she knows most likely she’ll have to handle this on her own.
“Where is the woman?” The man asks. He shakes his gun at Nat. She sees a weakness in the way he’s holding it. He won’t last.
“If you give me the intel, I’ll give you her location,” Nat says.
“You’re lying!”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m telling you the truth. They’re never really that different, right?”
“Drop your weapon,” he tries another tactic.
Natasha just smirks. She moves her left arm down and the man mistakenly thinks she’s giving in. The moment he shifts his aim Nat takes a shot at him. It’s an easy shot for her.
He goes down and Nat finishes gathering her data from the computer before she quickly gets out of the building. That backup she was waiting for finally arrives as she’s making her way outside.
“Thanks for the help,” she says sarcastically as Steve opens the door for her.
“Sorry,” he says. “We can’t be everywhere all the time. What were you even doing here?”
“Gathering intel,” Nat says simply. She shows him the flash drive and he just shakes his head. “The more I can find out the better I can help her, Steve. It’s an easy choice to make.”
“Nat, she’s so far gone,” he tries. “It might be worth stopping.”
“I’ll never give up on her. She’ll be herself again. I know it,” Natasha says. “Now, will you help me get this to Stark to decode?”
“Of course I’ll help you, Romanoff.”
She nods in thanks. For the rest of the drive, Natasha thinks about what her next step should be. There’s no easy fix to this situation. She needs to go where her mind works best.
Meanwhile, you are working on cleaning tables when the most beautiful woman walks in. You’ve seen her in here several times since you started working here.
She always sits at the table in the corner and orders coffee and a piece of chocolate pie. It’s always the same thing. You’ve never waited on her before, but somehow the stars align today and you’re covering that section.
You walk to her table and take a deep breath. She’s even more beautiful from this close up.
“Hey, how are you today?” You ask her.
“I’m okay,” she replies. “How are you?”
“Can’t complain,” you say. It’s your typical response when a customer asks you that question. “What can I get for you, ma’am?”
She orders her usual. You feel her eyes linger on you as you pour the coffee and bring her slice of pie to the table.
Something feels familiar about the way she smiles at you in thanks.
“Do I know you?” You ask her. She doesn’t reply, but you notice she looks away from you. “Sorry, it’s just that I had some memory loss so I’m just not quite sure who I know at this point.”
“Oh, I’m very sorry,” she says. “I don’t think we know each other though, no.”
“You seem familiar,” you tell her.
“Well, I am an Avenger so maybe that’s it,” she says. “I’m Natasha.”
“Right. The superheroes. It’s nice to meet you, Natasha,” you say. “I’m y/n.”
You hold out your hand for her to shake. When she does, you swear there’s still a lingering feeling that you know her. Maybe you’ve just seen her on television.
“I better get back to work,” you say.
“Nice to meet you, y/n,” Natasha says.
She stands from her chair and drops cash on the table. Walking towards the door, she stops short and turns back to look at you. You offer her a smile that she returns.
With that, she disappears into the city. The rest of the day goes by seemingly without any other excitement. You can’t stop thinking about your interaction with the woman, which is why you thought you were dreaming when she shows up at your door.
You blink hard to try and wake up, but the reality is that she’s truly here.
“Natasha?” You ask confusedly.
“I don’t have time to explain,” she says. “Can I come in?”
“I- what? Okay?”
She takes that as a yes. She walks inside and goes straight to the corner of the room where she picks up a piece of the floor to reveal a secret storage area.
Natasha fills her bag with the weapons that were stored under the floor.
“What is happening?” You ask her.
“Just trust me,” Nat says.
“I just met you today and you somehow know about this secret area of my house I didn’t even know about. And I’m supposed to trust you?”
“Yes,” Natasha replies. “Come on. Get some shoes on. We have two minutes.”
“Two minutes before what?”
She doesn’t get the chance to answer before a loud bang comes from outside. A series of car doors close simultaneously.
“Look, I know you don’t know me but you have to trust me. These guys are after you and if we don’t bail in the next thirty seconds we’re dead. Got it?” Natasha says.
“What?” You ask. It seems to be the only word in your vocabulary right now.
She grabs your hand and pulls you through your house. Once you’re outside, you go through the fence to the neighbors yard.
“Here,” Nat says, pulling you to a motorcycle that’s waiting there.
“I am not riding on that,” you say.
“Then you’ll be dead within minutes. Come on, y/n,” Nat says. She puts the helmet on your head involuntarily.
You have no choice but to listen to her. Hopping onto the bike, you hold on tight to her middle as she drives through the streets. At some point, a van is tailing the two of you. Natasha turns down every alleyway and street she can to get you away from the tail.
“When I say jump, you’ve got to jump!” Nat says over the roar of the engine.
“What?”
You’re quickly approaching a road that you can see has no end. She drives full speed ahead before letting go of the handlebars.
“Jump!” Nat shouts.
You cling onto her as you both jump. You have no idea how far the drop is but somehow you land in water. Natasha pulls you to the surface quickly.
You get to shore and try to gather yourself some. You’re so confused about all of this.
“Are you okay?” She asks.
“Am I okay?” You ask her. “Seriously, you’re asking me that? I don’t know who you are or what’s happening. We just got chased by a van through town and jumped off a motorcycle into a fucking lake. Do you think I’m okay?”
The woman has the audacity to smile at your words.
“I’m sorry, do you think this is funny?” You ask her, feeling fury seethe inside you.
“No,” Natasha says too quickly. “No, it’s just- nevermind. We have to get to the Avenger’s compound.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you tell her matter of factly.
“Y/n-“
“Don’t!” You interrupt her. “Just leave me alone.”
Nat raises her hands in surrender and watches as you walk away. She lets you get ten steps ahead before she follows after you.
“I told you to let me be.”
“You’re up there all alone. I just happen to be walking in the same direction,” Natasha reasons. “Although, the compound is the other way.”
Despite the fact that you were just doing insanely dangerous tasks with her, you feel a certain safety in her presence.
“Why should I go with you?” You pose a question.
You notice her hesitation in answering. Like she wants to tell you something but she just can’t.
“If you just come with me, I’ll explain everything there. Okay? Please give me a chance,” Nat says. “I won’t be responsible for them finding you and finishing the job.”
“What job? I’m just a waitress. Who could I possibly have wronged?”
“I promise I’ll explain later,” Nat says. “Please follow me.”
You relent and follow her. There’s no reason for you to trust her but somehow you do. It doesn’t take long to get to the compound once Nat hot wires a car.
“Y/n?” A girl asks when you are inside. You look at her despondently and she frowns. Natasha gives he’s her a look.
You follow Natasha to what seems to be a laboratory. There’s a large screen on the wall.
“Ah welcome,” a man says. You recognize him as Iron Man. “You’re just in time.”
“For?” You ask.
“The truth,” another man answers. You’re pretty sure he’s Captain America.
Before you can speak again, photos of you litter the screen. There are some of just you and some of you and the other Avengers.
“What the hell?” You wonder aloud.
“Y/n, we wanted you to remember on your own but it’s taking too long,” Tony Stark explains. “Natasha tried to jog your memory just by being in your presence, but that didn’t work.”
“So I do know you?” You ask the woman.
“You know all of us, y/n. You’re an Avenger.”
“But I’m- no. I’m a waitress,” you say. Your head feels like it’s spinning.
“That’s what they made you think, but you’re not. You’re a special agent,” Steve says. “And one of the best.”
“I don’t believe you. This is all a joke, right?”
“It’s not a joke, y/n. Why do you think we knew those people were after you? Or that I knew about the floor in your house?” Natasha asks.
“That’s easy. You’ve been spying on me.”
“No,” she says simply.
“Then how?” No response. “This is just insane. I’m leaving.”
You start to walk away. You hear Natasha’s footsteps behind you.
“Natasha,” a warning voice comes from Tony. “Don’t.”
“You know what, you go ahead. Take a car of ours, y/n,” she says.
She holds up a pair of keys. You reach for them, but instead of giving them to you she throws a punch your way.
You surprisingly dodge it with ease. Natasha smirks at the way you look at your arms in confusion.
“How did I do that?”
“Come on, throw one,” she taunts you.
You do your best to punch her, but of course she dodges it. You spar back and forth until you’ve both had enough.
“Great, now that that’s over. Do you believe us?” Tony asks.
“I’m not sure,” you say. “How could I not know I’m an agent?”
“Brainwashing,” Natasha answers. “Very effective brainwashing.”
“But why?”
“Because you were going to uncover a huge invasion of Hydra in the government,” Steve explains. “We still can’t find the data that you had before they took it from you and erased all of your memories.”
“So the memory loss, that was a real feeling I was having?”
“It was,” Nat says. “The reason why wasn’t a car accident as they told you though. They captured you and essentially knocked you senseless.”
You rub your hands over your face as you try to take all of this in. Just a few hours ago you thought you knew who you were, but they’re telling you something completely different.
“We wanted you to remember on your own, so it might not be so overwhelming,” Nat says.
“So, we’re all what? Coworkers? Friends? I don’t remember any of you, or anything you’re describing,” you say.
“We’re friends,” Steve says. “You’re friends with all of us and with Nat-“
“Steve,” Nat interrupts. “She doesn’t need to hear that right now.”
“I don’t need to hear what?”
There are shouts down the hallway that interrupt your conversation. Tony suits up and Steve grabs his shield.
“Get her to safety,” he tells Nat.
She grabs your hand and takes you down the hallway to a door and down a ton of stairs. Nat locks a door behind her once you’ve reached the lowest level.
“They’ll handle them,” Nat says. “But the further you are from the fight the better.”
“What was Steve going to say?”
“Hm?”
“About you and me,” you prompt her.
Natasha tears her eyes from yours much the same way she did when you questioned if you knew her earlier.
“Natasha, please just tell me. Clearly, everything I thought I knew was a lie. What’s one more thing?”
“Okay,” she agrees. “We were- you and I were together.”
“Together?”
She nods.
“Define together. Like dating?”
“Kind of yeah,” she says. You look at her for more details. The silence prompts her to continue. “We were married. We are technically married.”
“Oh,” you say.
“Yeah. I didn’t think you were ready to learn that,” Nat says.
“So that’s why you knew your way around my place?”
“Our place,” she says. “But they moved all of my stuff out before you went back there.”
“Natasha, I don’t- I can’t remember anything,” you say.
“I know,” Nat says sadly. “We kept our distance once we realized what they did to you, but we’ve never stopped making sure you were safe.”
You hear the sound of the fight getting closer. Natasha reaches for your hand. She places a loaded gun in your palm.
“I want to remember.”
“You will,” Nat says. “But right now, you’ve got to fight.”
To be continued…
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#soft natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff comfort
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The Boogeyman
summary - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw was ruthless, a stone cold killer both in and outside of the ring—with the belts and trophies to prove it. When a miscalculation results in a target being put on the back of his trainer's daughter, Bradley finds himself facing responsibility he never signed up for. You're a whole new challenge. And Bradley doesn't think you're one he can fight his way out of.
warnings - DARK THEMES, boxer au, language, Bradley is 6′6″ because I said so, brief mentions of blood, stalking, smoking, descriptions of scars, mentions of nightmares, no use of y/n
this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact
word count - 4.5k
there's not a whole lot of edits on this one so sorry about that, but later chapters will have more significant changes - bugs
monsters in the dark masterlist
“That’s it?” Adler’s eye twitches incredulously, his hands gesturing to the photos on the table. “All of this is happening because of a fucking jacket? Jesus, Rooster, when’s the last time you were nice to someone in public?”
Bradley bites his tongue, knowing Adler probably doesn’t want him to answer that. If he were to answer, he’d say that he wasn’t even that nice to you. That the picture makes it look way worse than it actually was. And that, really, none of this is his fault because, if Adler had heard the things Razor was saying about Nat, he would have punched him too.
But Bradley doesn’t say any of that, he just glares wordlessly while Adler scolds him like a child.
“Dad, would you leave him alone?” You seem to have gained some confidence in the time your father was chewing him out, shifting in Natasha’s embrace to get him to notice you.
“Leave him— Leave him alone?” Adler sputters, almost more angry at the fact that you don’t want him to be angry. “I don’t think you understand the severity of the situation we’re in right now.”
“I do understand, dad. But—”
Bradley raises his eyebrows in disinterest. “It’s Razor, Coach. You know he isn’t gonna do shit.”
“Of course I know Razor isn’t gonna do shit. You think I don’t know that?!” Adler’s on him again, looking about a second away from popping a vein before he takes a breath. At Bradley’s expression—or lack there of—Adler lets out an exasperated laugh. “God, you have no idea, do you? Look at this, Rooster,” he gestures towards the photographs on his desk, “you think Razor is smart enough to do any of this by himself.”
Bradley looks at the photos again. How they’re taken over multiple days, at multiple times of day, with a quality that doesn’t look like someone’s iPhone camera. Unless Razor was living out of his car and watching you for almost every second—and was way smarter than anyone gave him credit for—it might have been his idea, but it certainly wasn’t his execution.
Bradley looks back up at Adler, who seems to have calmed down slightly, but the older man still wears a grave look on his face.
“It’s not Razor that I’m fucking worried about.”
Had Bradley known that that conversation would lead to an outrageous amount of skirts being moved into his spare room’s closet, he would have fled the fucking country.
“Oh my gosh, you have fish? Dad, look, he has fish!”
“I see ‘em, kid. Would you go help Nat with the rest of your stuff?”
Bradley waits until your voice becomes distant down the hall, before he turns to Alder with a glare. “Remind me again why you’re making me her fucking babysitter?”
Like they’ve had this conversation a million times—and they have—Adler meets his glower with a dead expression. “Because you messed around with someone you shouldn’t have, and she refuses to stay with me because she doesn’t want to rope her mom into this, and if anything happens to my daughter—which, again, is because you decided you wanted to try and debunk evolution with your ape brain—I will stick Reaper on your ass so fast.”
“What is he? Your fucking dog?” Bradley scoffs lightly, which Adler matches with the single raise of a brow.
The two halt their conversation as you and Natasha each come in with a box, chatting quietly as you walk to the spare room that’s now serving as your bedroom. Adler smiles at you briefly. Bradley spares you a small nod of acknowledgement. They wait for the door to close.
“How. Long?” Bradley grits quietly.
“Until I don’t have to worry about her being used as some kind of leverage against you,” Adler says flatly, matching his volume. “Maybe it’ll teach you some impulse control.”
The door opens again and the two men stand awkwardly in the living room, silent until you and Natasha are far enough down the hall again.
“What if I say no?” Bradley challenges, crossing his arms in defiance.
“Then I’ll make sure that you never fight a good fight again in your life,” Adler narrows his eyes, the threat coming out in a tone that promises he means the threat. “I hear that Hangman’s coming back and he’s just as good as you. I’m sure he’d be happy to take all your fights.”
Bradley glares at him, but says nothing. He could argue that Maverick would never let that happen, but both men know that’s not true. Bradley could be the best boxer in the world—and, really, he is—but to Maverick, he’d always be expendable. And clearly, it seems, he’s expendable to Adler too.
“Look,” Adler drops his coach persona for a moment, letting out a sigh as he wipes a tired hand over his face. He looks older suddenly, aged. “I get that you don’t want this, I’m not exactly thrilled about it either. But you’re a good man, Bradley. And I trust you. You’re smart, and you know what to look for in dangerous situations. I just feel better knowing she has someone like you looking out for her. She’s been through enough as it is.”
Bradley’s brows furrow and he wants to ask Adler what exactly he means by that, but you and Natasha re enter his apartment with, what looks to be, the last load of your stuff. Natasha bumps her hip into him purposefully as you two walk past and Bradley suppresses an eye roll.
“Thanks for helping,” she says sarcastically.
He grunts. “You're welcome.”
“Yeah, thank you!” You smile at him genuinely. “Your place is really nice.”
Bradley can’t tell if you’re doing this on purpose or if you’re just stupid. Because it’s pretty obvious that every other person in the room—for one reason or another—isn’t exactly jumping for joy about this new living arrangement. And it’s even more obvious that Natasha was being entirely passive aggressive, but you seem completely sincere.
Bradley opts to give another nod instead of responding, though you don’t seem offended. Too sweet for your own good.
“Is that everything?” You wouldn’t be standing in Bradley’s living room if it wasn’t, but Adler asks anyway.
“Yep!” You lift the box in your hands slightly. “These are the last ones.”
Adler’s eyes flit over the box. “And you’re sure you have everything you need?”
“She does. And if she doesn’t, she can just ask Rooster.” Natasha answers for you.
Bradley wants to furrow his brows in protest, but he stops himself. With the amount of stuff you’d moved in, he doubts you’ll need anything. Bradley spares a glance at you, to see you already smiling at him, and he looks away quickly.
“Alright then, Rooster, you and I will talk to Mav about all this tomorrow. I doubt he wants to get the cops involved,” Adler sniffs. “We’ll… regroup after, I guess.”
Bradley clears his throat. “You’re leaving?”
Again, it’s Natasha who opens her mouth, looking at Bradley with a shit-eating grin and he can already tell what she’s thinking.
Natasha and Callie had been attempting to set him up for months now, after he complained once about the groupies always waiting for him after a fight. After that it was ring girls, or bar tenders, or friends of friends. He weaseled his way out of it every time, so he’s sure Natasha is loving this. Why she thinks trying to play matchmaker for him and his trainer’s daughter is a good idea is beyond him, though.
“We wouldn’t want to intrude on dinner.”
Bradley genuinely doesn’t know how he’s stayed friends with this woman for so long.
“Oh, I can make pasta?” You offer.
“No, that’s fine,” Natasha raises her eyebrows at him like she’s daring him to disagree. “Rooster can make something.”
He knows there’s a part of her that’s still mad about how he handled things with Razor, especially now that it’s resulted in a threat to your safety. And Bradley hadn’t ever actually apologized yet for doing the exact opposite of what Natasha asked him to, so he can imagine that forcing him into the role of “welcoming host” is giving her some sick sense of justice. He doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction though, so he just nods, staying quiet until both Adler and Natasha leave.
“Are you sure? It’s really no trouble if I make something,” you turn to him almost as soon as the lock has clicked in place. “I won’t even tell Natasha, I promise.” You hold your pinky out, though Bradley promptly chooses to ignore it.
“It’s fine, toots,” Bradley shakes his head, reaching for his phone to order something off of a food delivery app before thinking better of it and instead grabbing his car keys. “You like burgers?”
Knockouts was an establishment that felt like it had been around for almost as long as Bradley had. It was one of those “blink and you miss it” kind of buildings, having the misfortune of being placed next to a significantly nicer looking Denny’s. Freddie Kasinski, Knockouts owner, would be the first to remind anyone that “Knockouts was here first. And you don’t wanna eat any of that corporate bullshit. All nice on the outside, empty on the inside”. Bradley supposed there was some truth to that given that, with the option of them both readily available to him, he still chooses Knockouts.
You’re bouncing with excitement in his passenger seat, taking in the accents of light blue on the outside of the building as well as the flickering, cursive, neon sign. Bradley’s only mildly surprised you’ve never been here before, but you look like the type who’s put together enough to make home cooked meals so he guesses it isn’t as much of a stretch.
Bradley glances over the cars in the parking lot, taking brief note of any that look out of place. There’s no truck with dried blood on its side mirror so Bradley locks his own car, only making half acknowledging noises as you ramble beside him about his burger order and whether or not he likes pickles. He opens the door for you, his hand finding its somewhat familiar position on the small of your back.
“Hi, welcome to Knockouts. Are you dining in or taking out?” A waitress greets them politely, two menus already in hand.
Bradley glances around the various patrons of the diner. “Taking out.”
There’s an older couple in the back left, speaking to each other quietly over a single basket of fries. At a booth near the door is what looks to be a group of high schoolers, passing phones over various burgers and fries. Two of the girls are turning into each other in hushed whispers, sending him quick glances behind emptying milkshake glasses.
Subtly, Bradley flexes his fingers against your back, pulling your attention away from the menu above your head and you shoot him a smile. “What do you usually get?”
“Their cheeseburgers are good.” He says simply, deciding to just ignore the giggling girls to his left. He lets his gaze fall to your waiting eyes. “Do you want a milkshake too?”
“Yes! I was looking at their oreo one! Have you ever had that?” You light up at the suggestion, continuing to ponder over the flavor options Knockouts offered as Bradley’s eyes dart to the teenagers again.
“Oh shit, I think he has a girlfriend.”
“He’s so tall though…”
“He also looks like he’s 30 fucking years old, Kendra. Don’t think you stood a chance anyway.”
“Shut up, Devon!”
The waitress returns, somewhat of a grimace on her face as she makes her way to the cash register with a slight limp. You frown and before she can even open her mouth to ask for your order, you’re speaking.
“Are you alright?”
“Sorry?” The waitress looks down before she seems to realize what you mean. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. These shoes are a little small,” she chuckles awkwardly. “I, um, I haven’t gotten around to getting new ones yet.”
You nod in understanding. “I know this great secondhand store on Myrtle street. It’s where all the rich people live, so they’re always donating really nice stuff.”
“Oh, um, thank you?” The waitress blinks.
You seem to be rearing up for more conversation, while your waitress looks more like a deer in the headlights. Partly for her sake—and also because he wants those high school girls to stop staring at him—Bradley clears his throat to order.
“We’ll have three cheeseburgers and one oreo milkshake.”
The waitress nods, clearly relieved, taking a ticket back to the kitchen. Bradley stops himself from pulling out his wallet when he notices that you’re frowning again.
“What?” He thinks that maybe he shouldn’t have ordered for you. Natasha always said that women never liked guys who talked over them on a date.
Not that this was a date. Bradley just didn’t need you hating him and snitching to your dad who had already threatened to ruin his fight schedule.
“You didn’t want a milkshake?” You question and Bradley doesn’t really know what to say because, up until this point, he’s been operating his life under the assumption that he doesn’t look like the type of man to ingest milkshakes.
“It’s okay,” you’re smiling again and Bradley wonders if your face muscles are sore from how much you use them. “You can have some of mine.”
“I don’t drink milkshakes, toots,” he grunts.
You laugh. “Everybody drinks milkshakes, Bradley.”
He grunts again.
The waitress comes back with your food, taking Bradley’s card for a brief transaction before she hands over the to-go bag. She looks hesitant, her lip caught between her teeth as she passes the bag over to Bradley, and he’s almost positive she’s going to attempt to ask for his number. Which would fit in perfectly with how the rest of his day has been going.
Instead, she turns her attention to you. “Um, I just wanted to say thank you again for the recommendation. I’ll check it out.”
“No problem!” You smile brightly.
Bradley doesn’t know if he should feel embarrassed or relieved. But you don’t give him a chance to figure it out, turning back to the entrance with a final wave to the waitress. Bradley’s shoulders drop tiredly and he follows after you.
The door shuts behind him, the bell ringing to signal your departure, and a man looks up.
He’s sitting in a booth in the far right corner, under a hanging light that flickers every so often. He doesn’t stand out against the retro theme of the diner, clad in deep blue jeans and a leather jacket. He should be entirely forgettable. He knows he isn’t though, not with the jagged scar on his left cheek.
His eyes stay on you until you get into Bradley’s car. He watches, sitting in a booth in the far right of Knockouts, until Bradley’s antimatter blue Bronco pulls out of the parking lot. He watches until it’s just tail lights in the distance.
He picks a french fry up between two fingers. The fries are greasy, so much so that he’s gone through a fair few napkins, but they’re salted enough to make up for it. If he looks, he can see the salt granules coating the fry. But he doesn’t look. He watches that antimatter blue Bronco drive away.
Bringing the fry up for a bite, the salt stings at his chapped lips and his nose twitches. Another bite. He finishes the fry. He wipes his fingers on a grease speckled napkin. He takes a sip of water.
“Excuse me.”
The waitress walking by his table halts at his words. She turns around with an expectant smile, though it falters when she takes in his face, eyes widening slightly at the sight of the thick, pinkish line that cuts from his cheek bone to the corner of his lips. His own eyes flicker down briefly to read her name tag. “Malory”.
“Can I smoke in here?”
Malory shakes her head, recovering from her surprise and plastering a pleasant smile onto her face, brown hair bouncing on her shoulders. “‘Fraid not, sir. But you can smoke outside if you like.”
The man nods, picking up another fry as his eyes drift back to the parking spot that once housed an antimatter blue Bronco.
“Shame,” he says.
Maverick scratches at his cheek in thought, looking over the photos again. “Well, I can tell you it doesn’t look good.”
“Thanks for the insight, Pete. Real helpful,” Adler deadpans. “Remarkably, we were able to figure that out for ourselves, so if you’re ready to actually be useful, that would be great.”
Bradley’s eyebrows raise almost undetectably, if only because he’s never heard anyone talk to Maverick like that.
Pete “Maverick” Mitchell was a man that always fell on the cusp of being nefarious. He paid his fighters well, didn’t take advantage of them, but you have to be a certain kind of person to get into the business of parading young men around like show horses. He cleaned up messes, no questions asked, but he also made a fair amount of messes. Most importantly, in this instance at least, Maverick had connections.
Maverick leans back in his desk chair. “I am being useful, Joe. I’m sayin’ that, if you’re saying this is Razor, Abnesti’s not involved.”
“You figured that out from a coupla pictures?” Adler crosses arms, unconvinced.
“No, I got it from Abnesti,” Maverick rifles through a desk drawer, pulling out a pack of Marlboros and a lighter. “Steve Abnesti is the kind of guy who’s good at keeping secrets, but isn’t good at keeping that he has a secret. If he had any part in this, he’d have said something to me by now.”
His lighter flicks on and he holds it to a cigarette, before wrapping his lips around the rolled paper and sucking in a breath. Bradley’s nose wrinkles at the smell, but he doesn’t flinch, unmoving as Maverick blows smoke into the air slowly.
“You’re makin’ a mess,” Bradley notes, sparing your milkshake-covered lips a glance after he’s swallowed a bite of his burger.
It’s all over your shirt too—that’s what you get for trying to take a sip while practically lying down — and you tilt your chin down to look at it. You frown slightly at the spot of cookies and cream on your front, moving your thumb to try to rub it off.
Bradley grabs the oreo milkshake from your other hand before you can spill it on yourself again—the cup tilting when you get distracted trying to clean the stain—and you smile nervously. “Sorry.”
He grunts in response, setting your milkshake down on the coffee table, and turning his attention back to the television.
After much convincing—and the condition that he could pick the movie—you’d convinced Bradley to have a movie night while you ate. Bradley had begrudgingly agreed. A movie meant he couldn’t eat his burgers as fast as humanly possible and spend the rest of the night in his room, but it also meant he wouldn’t have to talk to you.
He should have known that you’d try to talk to him anyway.
“You know, I think this is one of Matt Damon’s best roles,” you say through a mouthful of burger, gesturing to the screen of the television.
Bradley makes a small noise of agreement, keeping his eyes trained on his choice of movie—The Bourne Identity—and he regrets not ordering fries because you’re almost done with your burger and clearly can’t be trusted with a milkshake so soon there will be nothing left to keep your mouth occupied.
“Have you watched all the Jason Bourne movies?”
Bradley nods.
“I have too, but it was a while ago— Oh, we should watch them all this week!”
Bradley freezes. This was going to be a recurring thing?
“I have training early,” Bradley provides as an excuse and it’s not technically a lie.
“Oh, okay,” you deflate only slightly and Bradley thinks that maybe you’ve gotten the hint that he doesn’t want to talk. Instead he gets three minutes of quiet before you’re voicing another idea. “Well, maybe I can watch them and then we can talk about our favorite parts together?”
Smoke tickles Bradley's nose and he blinks as Maverick takes another drag off his cigarette.
“Well, if it’s not Abnesti, who is it?” Adler’s eyes are trained on the pictures of you.
Maverick also glances at them thoughtfully, tapping the ash off his cigarette. “That’s where I’m drawing blanks. These looked practiced, whoever took them knows what they’re doing. But—and no offense Rooster—I can’t think of anyone that organized who’d be willing to waste their time and resources with some insignificant boxing rivalry.”
Adler says something but Bradley isn’t listening, shifting to pull his phone out of his pocket. With a glance to check that the older men in front of him are still somewhat distracted, he unlocks it.
Bradley watches you navigate his kitchen for a quick breakfast, looking through his pitiful amount of tableware and groceries. You land on yogurt and granola and Bradley’s brows furrow when he realizes you’re making two cups.
“Give me your phone.”
You jump at the noise, turning around quickly, and it’s the first time in the past 24 hours that Bradley’s seen you look scared.
“Why?” You ask hesitantly, eyes darting between his own like you’re trying to read him. Despite your apprehension, you unlock your phone, handing it to him anyway.
He doesn’t respond for a moment, tapping away on both your phone and his before he hands yours back to you.
“So I have your location,” he explains. You insisted on going to work, even though Bradley thought it was a stupid idea. You argued it’d be stupid for you to stay at his apartment all by yourself and even more stupid to follow him around as he trained at Maverick’s, and Bradley couldn’t exactly disagree. “You have mine too.”
You look down at your phone in your hand, staring at the small dot of Bradley’s contact that’s right on top of your own. You swallow. “O-Okay.”
“Are you ready?” Without thinking, Bradley reaches for the yogurt parfait you made for him.
You nod.
“Alright,” Bradley pockets his phone, reaches for his keys, and turns to the door. All with a cup of yogurt in his right hand. “Text me when you need me to pick you up.”
Your Find My icon is still appearing at the animal shelter, just like it had 10 minutes ago. And 10 minutes before that. Bradley hadn’t realized that your Apple ID would autofill his contact photo for you—a picture of you, eyes scrunched closed mid-laugh while you’re surrounded by hyper puppies greeting him every time he checks your location. Bradley looks at it for a moment.
“I have a few guys down at the station on payroll,” Maverick shrugs, snubbing his cigarette in an ashtray as the conversation comes to a close. “I’ll reach out, maybe they’ll see something I don’t.” He gestures down at the photographs. “Can I keep these?”
Adler nods, looking a smidge more relieved than he did when they entered Maverick’s office. “Thank you, Pete.”
“You’ve saved my ass more times than I can count, Joe. We’ll figure this out,” Maverick claps his shoulder.
Bradley pulls his eyes away from your contact photo and turns off his phone.
Bradley sits up off his mattress at a sudden noise of distress. For the past half hour he’s thought he’s heard things, but this was the first time it was loud enough to confirm as real. He holds his breath, listening for anything to clue him in to what’s going on. The sounds are too clear to be coming from your room, probably the living room if he had to guess. Light dances through the crack under his door. The television is on.
There’s another noise and Bradley gets up. It doesn’t sound like anyone’s in the apartment. The floors creak no matter how light you are so he’d have heard something by now if it was someone trying to break in. Still, he’s guarded as he opens his bedroom door.
He pads past your room, the door wide open and bed empty. As he suspected, he finds you in the living room, stretched out on the couch cushions as you sleep. It’s dark, your body only lit up by the light of the muted television, so Bradley isn’t positive, but it looks like you’re wearing the hoodie he gave you.
Another whimper takes him out of his thoughts and your face scrunches in anguish. Bradley doesn’t know what to do, nightmares had never been an issue for him, even when he was a kid. He can also recognize that waking up from a nightmare to see him looming over you would probably be more terrifying than whatever you were dreaming about, so he knows he needs to do something to ensure that you don’t wake up.
Wordlessly he sits on the cushion that is being occupied by your feet to get out of your line of sight. A more panicked whimper leaves your lips at the movement and Bradley’s hand shoots out to your ankle instinctively. He freezes as soon as he feels the soft skin of your ankle bone, holding his breath as his eyes trail back up to your face. Your brows are still furrowed, but strangely you’ve quieted.
Bradley swallows, his thumb tracing soft circles against your ankle before he fully realizes he’s doing it. A minute passes. And then another. And then your face begins to relax. Your features soften and your breaths even out. The light of the TV dances across your cheek bones and casts shadows onto the crevices of your face. It has Bradley’s breath catching in his throat. You look like one of those renaissance paintings Bob tried to show him once.
After another minute of peace, Bradley carefully gets up, giving you one last glance before he heads back to his room. He feels strange, like there’s a piece of this puzzle he’s missing. Maybe it’s just because you fell asleep watching The Bourne Supremacy, he tries to reason. But deep down, Bradley knows that isn’t right. Maybe you just have nightmares. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s overthinking all of this and should go back to sleep.
His hand hasn’t even reached the door knob of his room door before another whimper cuts through the silent air. Bradley sighs.
“Alright, toots. I hear you,” he grumbles quietly as he turns back around, though it’s entirely void of its usual bite. More of a mumble, if anything.
He sits back down by your feet, settling into a comfortable position as his fingers resume their patterns on your ankle and he feels you relax under his fingertips. Bradley picks up the remote with his other hand, turning on the closed captions of The Bourne Supremacy and rewinding to start it from the beginning. He watches the movie with his hand on your ankle.
Every couple of minutes, his eyes can’t help but fall to your sleeping features.
I do not have a taglist but you can follow my library @jupitercometgold to be notified when I post
#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw imagines#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fluff#bradley bradshaw angst#bradley bradshaw au#rooster imagine#rooster imagines#rooster x reader#rooser fluff#rooster angst#rooster au#top gun maverick imagines#x reader#monsters in the dark#under the hard deck#buggy's got a pen
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hello, darlings! i’ve finally compiled my fic list for kinktober 2023! i apologise for my inactivity as of late, being employed sucks fr😞 (kidding ofc) without further adieu, let me present the fics! as always, 18+ only please!
𝗜
𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝘀𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻
DARK, abby anderson & ellie williams x reader, non-con, drugging
𝗜𝗜
𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁 ‘𝗲𝗺 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻, 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 ‘𝗲𝗺 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗻
bradley bradshaw, overstimulation
𝗜��𝗜
𝗯𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗲, 𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗱𝗼𝗴
DARK, alpha!aemond targaryen, a/b/o, stalking, obsession, forced mating
𝗜𝗩
𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘃𝘆 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿
dadsbestfriend!eddie munson, taboo, age gap, dacryphilia
𝗩
𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗹𝘆 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗲
hockey!abby anderson x cheerleader!reader, brat taming, hate sex
𝗩𝗜
𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻’ 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵
joel miller, exhibitionism
𝗩𝗜𝗜
𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗴𝗮𝗺𝗲
DARK, james potter, sex pollen
tagging mutuals; @pxgeturner @lilacletter @lovetrt @amourrs @wlfpet @changemunson @cinnamoncunt @cosmal @mysticmunson @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @elsweetheart @evermoreal @suncoves @slightly-smarter-nat @falcqns @gxtitobxby @ghostlyfleur @heartmorgue @headkiss @jamespottersmommy @vnusology @vermithorn @vampieteeth @targaryenvampireslayer @odairsangel @oncasette @rafesmuse @inklore @indouloureux
#kinktober#kinktober 2023#urvampgf’s kinktober 2023#writer#writers on tumblr#smut writing#eddie munson x reader#dbf!eddie munson#bradley bradsaw x reader#abby anderson x reader#ellie williams x reader#Ellie x Abby x reader#James potter x reader#joel miller x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#writing#tlou fanfic#stranger things fanfic#tlou smut#stranger things smut#hotd fic#hotd smut#the marauders smut#the marauders fic
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Double the trouble
-> Click here for part 1
The wind was charging across the south side of the safe house. It was cold outside but warmer beside the lights of the fireplace.
They were in Jersey.
Steve had them arrive shortly before the lights on the streets could go red, as he sat down glancing down the window and his shield place right aside the couch. He clinched the window frame, as his thumb played with the curtains grumbling. Beforehand it like he knew Stella would panic and break into her quick paced mood of picking at her skin, so he made them some tea.
She sat down on the couch, sipping the tea watching him and gulped down the drink. She watched his stance not change, as her fingers run across the mug, he added honey to her tea. That was slightly uncommon for him to do unless he was frantically searching for something to smooth his senses.
“Babe.” She said, standing up from the couch placing the mug on the coffee table and walked over to him, “Sweetheart?”
“Hmm?” He asked, looking over at her stepping away from the window with a furrow brow, “Before you ask, yes, I’m fine. Just gotta make sure we weren’t being followed.”
“And if we were?”
“I’ll make sure they know who they are dealing with.”
“Why would this other Steven want with me?”
“First off, he believes I am living in the past and don’t deserve everything I got..That I’m in shackles now being tied down to following orders. I should take what i want. The star on my chest is an illusion and my wife deserves better than me.”
“He definitely believes he’s the better Captain. If he has me, the role as leader for The Avengers and the power to do whatever he wants..”
“Then everything is right in the world. He’s HYDRA honey..or so we think?”
“You think? He’s a clone of you! Unless..he’s from another universe?”
Steve raised an eyebrow at her thought process, knowing his wife was clever and down right smarter than he thought. The infinite earths theory is on the table. But he had to keep her heart calm, her voice relaxed and the mood in the room light, he knew his wife too well to know what she might do next if she knew the truth.
“Before we left i had Stark and Nat look into it. Maybe your right but he looks like me. Acts like me Elle..” He replied, with an honest almost fearful look, “..if he’s actual HYDRA, then he needs to be eliminated.”
“And what are you gonna do? Stay here and keep watch while our friends are searching for him. I understand you want to keep me safe but this isn’t how it should go.” She added, pacing the room with the tiny glare, “..I know your scared of losing me but you won’t.”
“I can’t be sure of that.”
“Yes you can.”
“Your not as strong as you used to be after you stopped practicing magic to go back to a simpler life.”
“So? I know how to use a gun, punch someone in the face and jump on a motorcycle if needed.”
“I’m planning on going back to find him but I need to know you will be okay here by yourself.”
“I will be.”
He nodded and kissed her cheek, returning to the kitchen to make a phone call. Stella was clever to know something was wrong, she knew her husband well enough but he wasn’t this on the nose with everything. He understood he was fearful of the situation but the way he acted like she was going to leave him or run away made her feel horribly bad.
And then she got her answer. His shield was played against the couch, it looked a little worn down and scratched. It wasn’t uncommon for the shield to look that way but the slight increase fade of color on the edges said otherwise. She looked over her shoulder, as she kneeled over to flipping the huge frisbee over to notice a small crushed card stuffed into the side behind the handlebars.
She quickly picked it up, opening it to find the note to be her handwriting. She half smiled, she tended to leave small notes on the inside of his shield telling him to ‘be safe’, ‘pick up the milk’ , ‘kick their ass babe!’ and or something longer than that.
She read the note..
‘Hello my darling, day 259 of this note writing game. Yes i’m keeping count! I want you to know, that I love you dearly but you have to let me go soon. I know you and my brother want to try everything to save time, but my body is slowly fading. I have fought every battle, kissed every star and sang every last lyric in my songbook. Please understand you are my love, my darling thoughts and one of the reasons i smile. You will both see me on the other side, i promise you that! I love you my husband. You will see me again. XOXO, Elle💋 ’
Stella was silent as she finished the note, her hand written letter was sent like a new made goodbye. The crushed car was stamped with her a kiss from what seemed to be ruby red lipstick. She knew it wasn’t her because she never wrote this lovely but sorrow note. But it was her from another universe who sounded pleased that she’s leaving theses note for her husband to remember her by.
She was always a sucker for keeping notes and photos around for the sake of memories to keep in the living spirt of it all.
“What are you doing?”
She turned around to face his blue eyes and blonde matted hair with a stance that looked protective yet purposely serious. She gasped as her thumbs rubbed circles across the paper. He walked over to her, annoyed wanting her to stand and explain herself.
He repeated himself, “What are you doing, Stella?”
“You’re him..” She said, as her voice sounded like a whisper.
“So your smarter than you look, love.”
“You shouldn’t be here..you should be with her.”
“Whatever you saw, it was nothing of your concern.”
“Yes it does!”
“No it does! You may look like her but deep down your not the same women!”
“Doesn’t matter! She is your wife..I’m your wife! She need you right now..”
“You’re alive and she’s not!..i need you alive.”
“She’s not dead yet..what do you want from me?”
“You’re magic. You’re heart..”
“You want my heart to save Estella Strange—”
“Rogers. And yes, it was your brother’s insane idea! We can’t live without you. The Avengers can’t live with you.”
“So you kidnapped me?! Thiego is insane…”
“It was his idea.”
“And my father?”
“He thought it wasn’t right unless we found a version you who would do it.”
“No. I—no I won’t do it. You just have to accept that there is no version of me, who would give up their magic for that!”
“Answer me this then. If it was the other way around, would you search for a way to keep me alive? Or would you let me die?”
“…”
“That’s what i thought.”
He was about to walk away when he heard her speak again.
Stella looked him dead in the eyes, “Not if you said, it’s okay to let you go. Yes, it will hurt having you gone but not when i know we will see each other again one day. And I clearly told you in that note the same exact thing!”
“She’s delusional. She’s under a lot of medication. My Elle would not..” Steve said, with hard piercing glare and sighed, “..you’re brother won’t accept it either and neither will any of them! Taking your heart is the only way to save our own.”
“Your in denial, Steve! You all are.”
“Shut it. You don’t get to lecture me about the situation when you don’t know what it’s like.”
“I take it you’re version of me was each other’s first love or something? I never met my fiancé and you never met Peggy or Sharon..?”
“..Peggy and I were just friends..and Sharon well—no. You never met Sam’s wingman Riley..well you met but never dated.”
“..oh god. Steve, you and I need to talk.”
“No. We don’t.”
“Yes we do. I may not be your Stella..but I do know that we both love a version of you no matter what. I think if you talk about this..maybe you can accept she loved you enough and want you to be happy?”
“Happy? When she’s died?…when she’s died and I’m still alive?!”
“Steve please. I don’t want to hurt you anymore than it must be seeing my face but yes! She wants you to know how much she loves you..sit with me?”
“You sit. One wrong move and I’ll restrain you to the chair. Understood?”
She only nodded, fearing a part of him would do it.
——
They were both in the living room.
Steve was silent, holding the note in his hand and groaned shaking his head. He was standing in front of her. He was never one to handle losing the people he cared about well and seeing this version of his wife sitting next to him struck a nerve.
She just sat there watching him. She looked so vibrant dressed in pinks and whites, her fingers tinkering with the fabric of her sweater. Her hair was longer with lush brown curls. Her makeup was fair and lighter in the rays of light that peaked from the hallway.
He huffed, he knew it was a mistake to see Stella like this and think of knocking her out cold to bring her to Thiego.
~~~
It was a contrast to his Elle. The idea of seeing his own with no make up, a little pale and shorter hair could make a shiver down his spine. Her bright smiles that she had now turned into smaller sweeter ones.
Ones that smiled as if that’s the last time she would smile towards her friends and family.
Before he left to come here, he remembered kissing Elle’s forehead as she was asleep in his favorite dull brown sweater. She was at The Avengers Compound hospital bed and if he’s correct, she might as well could still be asleep.
He remembers the way she would stand from the couch or chair, when he got home from work and rush to him arms. And he would catch her swiftly and kiss her face as she laughed.
He didn’t want to let her go. He couldn’t. He wasn’t sure he was ready to watch her leave him, just yet.
Yes he was going across the 5 stages of grief in his head but can you blame him?!
They have been together since the moment he woke up in early February of 2010 as she was his nurse in New York City. That version of Stella never became a part of The Avengers, but an sweet agent to SHIELD.
She was one of the nurses on the medical team when they met.
And it was history ever seen.
~~~~
He could do it right now, but he knew a part that Elle wouldn’t want him to. Yes, she would have told him to pull the trigger and told him to get the job done years ago but now, she wouldn’t exactly tell him that.
His thoughts were intercepted by Stella’s voice as he glanced up at her. She said something.
“Hm?” He asked, his baby blues meeting her brown eyes.
“Are you here to harm my Steve and make him look bad as Captain America?” She repeated, slightly inching away from him.
“..i might. He doesn’t deserve you. And if he gets in my way, or worse I’ll make sure the Captain look like a fool.”
“Have him arrested?”
“Possibly. I already did some damage when i got here, breaking into SHIELD facility and steal few access codes.”
“Why? To make a point.”
“Yes. The footage already looked like he did it and knowing my counterpart, he is searching for you. He’s trying to prove his innocence to SHIELD and track you down.”
“He will find me.”
“I know he will. And I won’t hesitate to shoot if he does.”
“Where’s my brother? Does he know you’re here?”
“He’s searching across the universe to see if there is another match aside in case you’re heart or magic doesn’t work. Now if you want to help me, you can surely give in.”
She glared as she leaned forward against her knees as she gave him a simple, “No.”
Steve glared as he walked to face her as he leaned forward and grabbed her face with a hand, “You will help me.”
“Accept she’s will be fun and just want to spend her last few months or so with you!”
“You forgot what’s like to be honest about this situation.”
“I learned that you have to remember the good memories, Steven. And not think about the bad!”
“You’re pathetic.”
“You don’t have the heart to hurt me.”
He squeezed her face just ever so slightly, make sure not to leave a mark on her cheeks. He had the shoulder glare deep within his eyes as he let go off her face. She gasped, felt like she was thrusted back onto the couch as she rubbed her cheeks.
She blinked. He was hurt and he needed to understand what matters is that is with her. Yes, it was true Stella wasn’t as strong as she once was with her magic.
But she had a strong element to her talents that could help him remember why he’s here.
Just as she was about to stand up and try something. The door was knocked down as an angry super soldier stood there glaring at his counterpart holding his shoulder.
He was dressed in his suit, with a glare underneath that mask.
“Oh you’re screwed..” Was all Stella said, as her fingers glowed a light organic orange and backed away slowly.
It was as if the room got colder than expected in that moment. 2 Steven Grant Rogers in the same room?! Both looked at her structure and glances at one another dead in the eye, beforehand reaching for their shields and then—Blam! Captain America styled shields were thrown across the ground into the other’s grasp as Steve grabbed the man and pinned him onto the wall.
~
-> Let me know your thoughts in the comments below and reblog with responses if you like.
-> What do we think of this twist? And the roles taken place?
Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @mallowbee4 @thechoooooosenone @luna-d-marsh @sherloquestea @rooster-84 @halesfavoriteharlot and etc
#ask the super spouses#event story#stevella#see you again event#i love you in every universe#steve rogers x oc#steve rogers angst
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𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⇢ 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲
soooo i changed my url again (i’m so sorry LMAO) but it won’t change again hopefully for ages!!
tagging moots for reach (pls rb!! i’m so sorry to b annoying) @fentibeauty @munsonslilbunnie @maladaptive-day-dreams @bunniepeaches @duramater97 @mulletboystan @ddejavvu @theultraviolencesblog @fr3dslut @a-era @sxriusblxck @padf00ts-l0ver @suchababie @camerons-specialinterest @nottluvr @bellatrixscurls @morwap @sapphireplums @vnusrot @decadentpaperduck @evermoreal @feverdreqmz @ariesl0ves3ddiemuns0n @starryevermore @n0agranger @two-red-lungs @slightly-smarter-nat @lovewheeler @alexdaydreams @my-my-only-angel @balenciagabucky @mad-elia @jamespottersmommy @indouloureux @iriesdreamworld @creelteeth @eddiemunsonscurl @saintsinnereject @stumachergf @fairydunes @forourmoons @kissitbttr @vinnieslittlecornerr @oncasette @faeology @blondedmuse
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Chapter 4: Captain America: The Winter Soldier - Partners in crime
Part 4:
“We need a public place to check the drive, the mall will do. They’re after you so once they’ll know we’re with you, it will be easier to be made.” I explained to Steve as we were at our place, planning the mission.
“How much time do we need to get this done?” Rogers pointed at the drive. “About 10 minutes. We get in, and in about 2 minutes we’ll be at the store, stay low. You will need to cover me, so I can check what’s on it,” Natasha detailed. “Y/n you should stay outside, the three of us would be way too easy to see,” Steve said and I raised an eyebrow. “Why me? You’re not much needed in this part,” I tilted my head. “Fury gave me the drive, didn’t he?” He asked with a smug face and I just sighed. “I’ll be outside in a car, and I’ll get through the security cameras just in case they’ll find us.” “Great, let’s get some clothes then we can go,” Natasha stood up from the couch. “I’ll find you something,” I said to Steve.
***
“He is literally useless in a situation like this. He is so recognizable and big and not good in scenarios like this,” I murmured angrily as I was getting changed. “It’s not even an exciting mission, don’t be angry,” Natasha said carefully. “I don’t care, it's still a mission.”
***
“I’ve never been on the watch-out before, this is really boring,” I spoke through the comms as Natasha and Steve walked into the mall. “It’ll be done quickly, don’t stress about it,” Nat said lowly. “Still.”
“First rule of going on the run is, don't run, walk,” got the instruction, Steve. “If I run in these shoes, they're gonna fall off.” “I would laugh so hard,” I smirked as I watched his form walk past a camera.
Once they got to the Mac store, Natasha quickly got to work. “The drive has a Level Six homing program, so as soon as we boot up, SHIELD will know exactly where we are,” Natasha said. “How much time do we have?” “Uh...about nine minutes from…” heard typing then she spoke again. “Now. Fury was right about that ship, somebody's trying to hide something. This drive is protected by some sort of AI, it keeps rewriting itself to counter my commands.” “Can you override it?” “The person who developed this is slightly smarter than me. Slightly.” “You can do this easily, no need to be modest,” I murmured, then I saw Rumlow getting out of a car.
“Listen up, we have company. Rumlow and his team are just about to walk into the mall.” I said and Steve looked around not so subtly. “I'm gonna try running a tracer. This is a program that SHIELD developed to track hostile malware, so if we can't read the file, maybe we can find out where it came from.” “Come on Nat, you can do this faster.”
“Can I help you guys with anything?” A guy walked up to them. “Oh that’s just great,” I sighed but Nat was quick to jump to action. “Oh, no. My fiancé was just helping me with some honeymoon destinations.” “Your what?” My eyes widened and I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Right! We're getting married.” “Wow, don’t jump out of your skin, Rogers.”
“Congratulations. Where do you guys thinking about going?” Asked the guy. “Say New Jersey,” I said quickly but Steve looked at the screen. “New Jersey,” he said unsurely. Great, just great.
“Oh…” the guy looked at Steve like he just recognized him. “That’s amazing, what did I say about this? I wanted to ignore the same exact thing!” I spoke in the comms.
“I have the exact same glasses.” “Wow, you two are practically twins,” Natasha said with no interest in their conversation. “Yeah, I wish. Specimen. Uh...if you guys need anything, I've been Aaron.” “Well, fuck you, Aaron,” I said as I watched him walk away. “Y/n, please don’t make me laugh,” Nat snickered. “Wasn’t intentional.”
“You said nine minutes, come on,” Steve said, hurrying Natasha. “Shh, relax. Got it.” Rogers looked at the screen and his face was in shock. “You know it?” “I used to. Let's go,” he pulled the drive out and they made their way out.
“Standard tac-team. Two behind, to across, two coming straight at us,” I shared what I saw. “If they make us, I'll engage, you hit the south escalator to the metro,” Steve spoke.
They soon reached the escalator and the next moment I saw Rumlow on the other side of it. “Rumlow at 11!” I said loudly and Nat quickly recognized the situation and turned around.
“Kiss me.” Excuse me?! “You did not just say that,” I murmured and leaned back in my seat. “What?” Steve asked, his cheeks already getting tinted. I could see them even through the goddamn cameras. “Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable,” Natasha stated. “Don’t you dare, Romanoff.” I already took out my comms and just watched the screen.
Natasha quickly pulled down Steve's head and kissed him, making Rumlow look away as he went past them on the escalator. Once they let go, Natasha’s hood fell off which was very unprofessional by the way, and they made their way downstairs.
***
I left the key on the dash at the front and quickly got into the back before I had to speak with either of them.
Once they neared the car, Natasha was already looking for me. But I ignored her.
“Ready to go?” Steve asked awkwardly. “Sure.” “Y/n I’m-“ “Don’t talk to me. I don’t care. There were millions of ways to get out of that situation and you chose that one,” I said and I sat behind her so I could see the back of her head at tops.
***
It was a 3,5-hour drive. A very long time for 3 people who were in a very tense situation. And Natasha was the first to break the silence.
“Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?” “Nazi Germany.” “That’s oddly depressing,” I said. “And we're borrowing. Take your feet off the dash,” Steve instructed Nat, and as he asked she took her feet down. “Alright, I have a question for you, oh, which you do not have to answer. I feel like if you don't answer it though, you're kind of answering it, you know?” “What?” “Was that your first kiss since 1945?” She asked. Of course, your girlfriend is not sitting in the back at all.
“That bad, huh?” Steve said with a grumpy look. “I didn't say that,” a way to say it was good. “Well, it kind of sounds like that's what you're saying,” poor man can’t read behind the lines. “No, I didn't. I just wondered how much practice you've had,” I’m gonna kill her.
“You don't need practice,” Steve defended himself while he was trying to concentrate on the road. “Everybody needs practice,” and she presses and presses. “Steve, can you stop for a minute, please?” I interfered with their conversation.
He looked at me through the mirror and Natasha turned around to take a look at me. “You okay?” He asked. “Yeah, just need a minute.”
Rogers pulled to the side of the road and the car stopped. “Romanoff, get out of the car,” I said and I stepped out. Walking a little away from the car, I heard the car door opening and then closing.
I turned around and saw her standing a few feet away from me, hands in her pockets.
“I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” I started and she opened her mouth to speak. “No, I’m talking,” holding up my hand she nodded.
“Remember when we talked about how you don’t know much about a healthy and honest relationship?” She nodded. “I didn’t want to believe in the pink clouds phase because I really thought that this is different.” I shrugged and started to walk around a bit. “But you know, this, what you’re doing right now is so fucking… I don’t even know how to describe it,” I threw my hands in the air and she just listened carefully.
“You are such a good agent, a spy and you really want to tell me that kissing him was the only option to get out of there? Natasha, I’m not stupid,” I shook my head. Her eyes were filled with worry and she was chewing on her lips. I hate to see her so anxious but I’m mad and I need her to hear me.
“And you are just pressing this whole conversation in the car like I’m not even there! I understand that this is new, but we’ve been together for a little now and I can’t believe you didn’t get how this works.”
If you think about it, this is our first fight. Would people say I should break up with her because she kissed someone else while we were together? Someone probably would. But no. I love her, and even though I hate her to my gut right now, I know that probably tomorrow night we will be all cuddly with each other after a long talk.
She took a deep breath and looked down at her feet. “I know that you hate scolding me so thanks for this… I guess. But uhm… I am sorry. Sometimes I don’t think about these things, which is a problem, I know, but I’m trying most of the time. And Steve… I don’t like him, not even attracted to him, he’s just so easy to mess with and sometimes I can’t control this and I’m sorry about this too,” her big doe eyes just dripping with guilt.
Natasha slowly walked closer and carefully took a hold of my hand. I looked at our intertwined fingers, her thumb softly brushing over my hand.
Picking up my head, we locked eyes and all I could think about is how much I need her in my life, and without her, I would be dead.
“I love you with my whole heart Natalia and I don’t want to lose you. So please don’t flirt with Steve, or anyone on that note,” I cracked a smile and she nodded with a cute smile too. “Can I get a kiss?” She asked and I laughed. “Not before you wash your mouth, I’m not kissing you after you kissed grandpa.”
***
“Nobody special, though?” Asked Nat as we continued our journey. Steve scoffed. “Believe it or not, it's kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience,” he said. “It would be very boring if people only dated people with whom they share the same experiences. You need to expand your horizons, Rogers,” am I not right?
“Well, that's alright, you just make something up,” said Nat. “What, like you?” Not personal at all…
“I don't know. The truth is a matter of circumstances, it's not all things to all people all the time. And neither am I,” the smirk on her face did not disappear. “That's a tough way to live.” “It's a good way not to die, though,” she looked back at me with a look in her eyes that gave me butterflies like I was some crazy teenager.
“You know, it's kind of hard to trust someone when you don't know who that someone really is,” Steve gave her a look and she thought for a second then answered. “Yeah. Who do you want me to be?” “How about a friend?” He asked and she smiled. “Well, there's a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers.”
#natasha romanoff x stark!reader#natasha romanoff x female reader#natasha romanoff x female#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow x reader#black widow x y/n#black widow x stark!reader#black widow x you#black widow x female reader#gxg#marvel#natasha romanoff#black widow#stark reader#y/n stark#natasha romanoff imagines#steve rogers
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Stranger Things Fic Rec Masterlist
Masterlists
Masterlist @belokhvostikova
Steve Harrington
Come Back to Me @crappymixtape
Eddie Munson
If you’d taken an arrow (and run it right through me) @iliaclwrites
Everybody’s talkin up a storm (act like they don’t notice) @iliaclwrites
My girlfriend from Canada @dropletscarlet
Cruel Confessions @hellfirewhxre
Second Chances First Times @msgexymunson
Sauron's Secret @emeritusemeritus
Robin Buckley
The girl of her dreams @slightly-smarter-nat
Lucas Sinclair
Little Misunderstanding @refiwrites
Eddie x Reader x Steve
welcome to the dungeon... @bimbobaggins69
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If your requests are still open, could you write one where Natasha got really drunk at one of Tony’s famous parties at the compound, and when R helps the Russian to her room. Natasha would ask R to stay tonight, which she does, and Nat reveals she has feelings for R? And then R is caught off guard and because of the alcohol in Natasha’s system, her walls are down and she’s emotionally vulnerable and disheartened because she thinks R doesn’t love her back? But R reveals she in love with her too and hopes she remembers in the morning. And Nat does and it’s a very fluffy ending. Please and thank you! I live your fics!!
Drunk On Love || Natasha Romanoff
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Warnings: Slight angst- ends in fluff; mentions of alcohol consumption; explicit language; intoxicated characters; mentions of painkillers. If I have missed any warnings, please let me know.
Word Count: 9027 words.
A/N: Thank you so much for the request anon, I apologise it’s so late. I kind of went off topic with the request, so to the anon that requested this fic, if you would like me to re-write it more specifically to the request, I’ll happily do so. I hope you all enjoy! Please note this is an au so some character’s behaviours may be different to what is expected.
Please do not repost (on here or any social media platform), copy, translate or take ownership of my work. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3.
Masterlist
*Italics/boldness indicate dialogue from the show the Reader and Natasha are watching.
‘Anna please, I-it’s not what it looks like! Me and Martha are-‘
‘What Daniel? Good friends? Platonic or romantic? God, you can’t even make your own mind up until you’re both under each other doing god knows what.’
‘Hey, that’s not fair. You know I loved you, yet you threw me to the curb like I was a piece of trash-‘
“You know what is trash, this show.” You remark towards Natasha as the two of you mindlessly watch TV after promising yourselves to have a relaxing, once in a lifetime day off from being world saving heroes.
Natasha glares towards the screen, concentrating on the drama unfolding in front of the two of you- and attempting to keep up with the current storyline of the show, “You’re the one who put it on, and besides it’s rather entertaining when you figure out what the hell they’re talking about.”
You laugh at her words as you shuffle further into the cushioned couch; throwing your feet up on the coffee table in front of you to replicate the optimum comfort position of complete and total relaxation, “In my defence, there was nothing else on and- wait Martha is walking towards the kitchen where Daniel and Anna are arguing!”
Natasha instantly grabs an Ash shaded pillow from beside herself to hug in support and in anticipation of the drama that is about to commence, “Oh god, this can’t be happening.”
Part of you notices the rare and yet delicate occurrence of Natasha being completely relaxed enough to let out this side of her. A side you often see and cherish; knowing your best friend trusts you enough to see what she’d consider and definitely deny to be her ‘soft side’.
However, escaping from your thoughts, you subconsciously drop your feet back to the carpeted floor as you lean forward towards the TV, losing yourself in the chaotic scenes on the scripted, yet somewhat addictive new reality show playing out.
‘Please, just hear me out-‘
Daniel’s plea is silenced with a deafening strike across his face-delivered by a vengeful hand belonging to Anna.
Having lost yourselves in the show, Natasha and yourself release a gasp in unison; not expecting the rather hysterical character to deliver such a harsh statement through her actions, opposed to her words.
As you study each pixel conforming on the screen in front of you with a newfound interest, you unfortunately start to pick at the skin encasing your nails- a nervous and unbreakable habit you have yet to overcome.
Natasha’s ears pick up on the telltale signs of your destructive actions, knowing the unique clicking sound resounds when you’re in deep concentration or in deep trepidation in concern with something.
“Y/n/n, you’re doing it again.” Natasha gently scolds your habit, causing you to snap out of your TV induced trance and notice your now red and broken skin. You silently curse yourself as the irksome stinging sensation makes itself known on your now raw skin.
Natasha shakes her head as she guides her gaze back to the TV screen, “I thought you were using that nail polish I gave you to stop you from dissecting your nail beds?” You groan at Natasha’s question, knowing she’ll refuse to drop the topic now that she is aware of its occurrence once again.
Harvesting a deep breath, you center your tone before answering the red head, knowing she’s only trying to support you, “I did… but I ended up picking it all off during Steve’s latest briefing on our upcoming mission schedule.”
Natasha smirks at the irony of your conflicting actions with the mechanism designed to refrain you from messing with your nails entirely, “Okay, I’ll cross that one off the list as a failure. What about using bandages across your nails?” Natasha moves through her mental list of ways to help you kick your unwanted anxious habit, knowing it’s becoming an insecurity of yours.
In sync with Natasha, the two of you raise your feet from the ground and bury them underneath your bodies as you move to address each other further, “I tried that one already, they just irritate me throughout the day. Plus Parker thought it was double-sided tape and had the audacity to think I was replicating his ‘sticky fingers’ situation.”
Natasha lets out a low chuckle at your statement, though not hesitating to guide her amused gaze towards your stern one.
However, only a few seconds pass before the two of you break out into laughter; never having a dull moment between the both of you.
“Well, I know one technique we haven’t tried if you’re up for it y/n?” Natasha says evenly, keeping her gaze locked on yours.
You can’t help but fidget under her gaze, long forgetting the show on the TV, but happily becoming lost within Natasha’s ethereal sea of green irises, “W-what is it?” You practically whisper, studying her face intently as you await her suggestion.
Natasha silently reaches for one of your hands, delicately brushing over your skin as she encases her hand with yours in a supportive manner.
You watch her actions in surprise, sure you’ve held hands with her before, but this time you’re convinced that the initial touch of her skin on yours was electric.
Natasha gently pulls the hand taken towards herself to place on the cushion obtained earlier, “This way, if you try to do it again, you’ll have to go through me in order to do it.” Natasha says with a tilt of her head, attempting to ignore but most likely enjoying the heated blush working its way up your neck and across your cheeks from her actions.
You attempt to stagger out a response, knowing your feelings for Natasha are ever increasing, yet part of you wants to deny them in fear that she doesn’t return your affections- in turn the current situation is proving that task difficult. Natasha isn’t exactly the most open book of all, deciphering her feelings towards others is a challenge in itself.
Having words fail you, you allow yourself to bow your head slightly and escape her curious gaze. What she’d do to have a moment to hear your thoughts on her outgoing movement- little did you know, her heart is near enough hammering out of her chest, fearful that you’d reject her motion of love in the most subtle way she can ponder without giving you an opportunity to outright decline her care.
“Y/n-“ Natasha finds it within herself to push you for an answer to silence her tormenting thoughts. That is until she hears the bellowing voices of Yelena and Kate travelling down the hallway and into the living area where the two of you are currently occupying.
Your gaze snaps towards the former Widow and Archer, loosening your hand away from Natasha’s in fear of creating a tense, yet ecstatic questioning session from Yelena at the contact-knowing Yelena is desperate to see you and Natasha become a couple. You’d hate to create a false sense of hope, not only for Yelena, but for yourself too.
Though, Yelena has never shied away from creating ‘coincidental’ circumstances of you and Natasha being paired up for every training session; team task and missions. That cannot work wonders between the fears surrounding rejection surging through Natasha and yourself; but it has made you somewhat closer.
As you turn yourself on the spot to give the two women your undivided attention; you fail to see the flash of hurt run across Natasha’s features at your effort to distance yourself from her in the presence of her Red Room Sister and Kate. Her hands now feel cold from the loss of your warmth that she so desperately craves.
Kate takes quickened steps to reach the back of the couch before Yelena, who wanders over with her hands nestled in a pair of the many pockets decorating her impressive and rather practical hunter green vest.
“Hey guys, what are you two up to?” Kate asks curiously as she goes to lean across the back of the cushioned couch to spy what plays on the screen central to the room.
You smirk as you go to reply to the Archer, “Oh we’re just watching some lame show-“ Before you have a moment to finish your explanation, Kate eagerly and enthusiastically interrupts your words.
“No way! You’re watching ‘Heartbreak in New Asgard?! I love this show!” Kate exclaims as she attempts a graceful clamber over the backing of the couch to lumber herself in between you and Natasha.
You groan in discomfort as she uses a tightened grip on your head to assist herself over- allowing Yelena’s disturbed gaze to land on her disheartened sister, “Sestra, are you okay?”
The saddened features tainting Natasha’s face snap back into that of a stoic nature, displaying an unreadable resting face for the Widow, shielding herself from further pain of sympathetic questioning she’d rather escape, “I’m fine, why are the two of you here?”
Natasha quickly dismisses Yelena’s concern, sending a pang of turmoil through the blonde assassin with her miserly tone. However cryptic Natasha may be, Yelena never fails to notice a shift in Natasha’s demeanour; though she also knows never to push Natasha to open up, she’ll come to her when she’s ready- she hopes.
Yelena clears her throat as she eagerly moves her gaze away from Natasha, “Kate Bishop and myself are planning on working on some well needed combat training. Isn’t that right, Kate Bishop?” Yelena teasingly directs towards her newly acquired friend, knowing Kate’s impressive and enhanced Martial Arts are in no way of a comparison to Yelena’s extensive Red Room training-yet.
Kate moves to rest her elbows on her knees, leaning forwards in fondness of the show commencing, “Huh? Yeah, yeah sure whatever you say Yelena. Sounds awesome.” Kate mumbles out in response, not caring to take in the conversation playing out between the Widows, but directing her entire attention on her favourite guilty pleasure.
You wave a hand in front of Kate’s face, laughing at the way her vacant expression signals out your action to follow along the show, “I think we’ve lost her.” You announce, causing Yelena to groan.
“Ugh, you are impossible Kate Bishop.” Yelena lets out, knowing a mass effort will now be required to remove Kate from her current area of fixation.
“Anyway, we wondered if the two of you wanted to join us. You can see how well I kick Kate Bishop’s ass. My current record is under two minutes.” Yelena proudly announces to Natasha and yourself; secretly hoping it’s enough to entice the two of you to join the training session.
You go to respond positively to the question put forward, until you catch Natasha’s eye; part of you wonders if the furrowed gaze is begging you to reject Yelena’s offer and stay with her a bit longer. Having a sudden urge to bask in the lone company of Natasha, you conform your answer.
“Thank you Yelena, but Natasha and I are having a chill day so no training is allowed- Romanoff’s orders.” You say in a light manner, hoping to not offend the younger Widow, but assert your promise to Natasha.
Natasha releases a relieved sigh, though she adores Yelena, she knows she has a better chance of moving things forward with you if the two of you are alone.
“Sestra, maybe another time we can see your self declaration of superiority over Kate’s skillset.” Natasha addresses Yelena, hoping no offence has been caused towards her sister on her part.
Yelena can only smile in response, knowing her offer was likely to be declined in favour that the somewhat undetected, yet mutual pining between her sister and her friend would advance into something more.
“I’ll hold you to that Sestra.” Yelena moves to bring Natasha into a heartfelt hug; striking the opportunity to whisper supportive words into her Sister’s ear in the hopes that she will lift her dismal mood.
The words remain unintelligible to you, until your attention is peaked from Yelena blowing a wave of nuisance air into Natasha’s ear; causing the redhead to shove the blonde away with an amused mumble of ‘grow up’.
Yelena chuckles in giddiness, never passing the opportunity to tease her Sister in the most troublesome way she can muster to think of, “Okay Sestra, okay we’ll get going and leave you to whatever this is-“ Yelena waves a finger between Natasha and yourself, earning an eye roll from her Sister; “Come on Kate Bishop.” Yelena attempts to remove herself and Kate from the situation.
Kate waves Yelena’s words away with a dismissive hand, “Shhh, it’s getting to the good part. They’re about to make up.” Kate lets out with her enrapt gaze remaining upon the TV.
Yelena releases an unamused sigh as she goes to lift the Archer up by the purple collar of her combat gear; causing Kate to follow the forceful tugs from the couch she wishes to remain on.
Kate releases several protests of annoyance at Yelena’s incessant tugs; grasping the message that it was in fact time to leave.
You and Natasha shake your heads at Yelena’s antics, she never fails to amuse the two of you.
Just as the two women move to leave the room and bid you a goodbye, Tony Stark decides to grace the room with his presence.
Yelena moves to nudge Kate, stifling a laugh enough to let her words out, “Oh, look Kate Bishop, it is the grown man that I made cry the other day. How exciting.” Yelena teases, never one to shy away from putting Tony in his place from his vulgar words.
Tony firmly shoves his hands into the compact pockets placed on his custom made jacket, giving his throat a clear in the process, “Belova, a pleasure as always.” He sarcastically remarks as he moves towards the couch; ignoring the shared amusement being vocalised by Kate and Yelena on the way to their destination.
Tony removes one of his hands to bring it towards your head, ruffling your hair into an unwanted mess as he goes to address you, “How’s my favourite Avenger doing on this fine day?” Usually when he directs such a title to yourself it’s because he wants something from you- you dread to think what it could be this time.
You groan in irritation as you slide away from his vexing movements, “I was okay until you showed up Tony.” You grumble as you try to style your hair down from its now hectic state, courtesy of Tony Stark himself.
Tony smirks in response, loving the practical sibling rivalry the two of you unknowingly created from your friendship.
As Tony is an intelligent man, he knows not to replicate his actions of greeting with Natasha, knowing she wouldn’t hesitate to display an unfriendly manner to his pestering ways.
He nods his head in Natasha’s direction in greeting, “Widow.”
Natasha folds her arms with a gentle sigh in response, “Stark.” She simply lets out, loving the way she can intimidate Tony with just her presence alone.
You stare at Natasha in wonderment, “Okay, you’ve got to teach me how you do that.” You say in reference to the successful taming of Tony that Natasha can so easily manage.
Natasha smirks in pride, grasping onto that small essence of rendering you stunned. That is until Tony invades the conversation.
“You love it really, y/l/n. Anyway I have some very exciting news to share with you y/n.” Tony announces as he rubs his hands together in motion of hyping up his upcoming statement.
You twist your facial features slightly in curiosity, and a mixture of hesitancy, “Oh god, what have you done now?” You question in uneasiness.
Tony scoffs at your words, “What makes you think it’s something bad, in fact I am offended at your negative tone towards my ingenious idea-”
Natasha picks up the conversation from her point of view, “In all fairness Stark, as of late, your plans have ended in complete and utter chaos- no offence.”
Tony waves a dismissive hand towards Natasha, “Offence taken. Anywho, before I was rudely misjudged, I’ll tell you what I need you for. Tonight I’m throwing a totally kick-ass, ‘you have to be there’ party and you’re coming; no arguments.”
You drop your mouth in protest, “Wait, what?! No way, why?!” You practically stutter out, failing to recall even putting your name forward for this extravagant idea.
Tony rolls his eyes as though the reasoning would have become obvious to you upon revealing his request, “Okay, I may, or may not have announced that you’d be a guest of honour per se to show off our newest Avenger to some of the board members at some new, rival tech company trying to out-do my image. Regardless, your ass better be there or I’ll have J.A.R.V.I.S wake you up every morning at 2 am for two months.”
You shake your head in annoyance, “Not like I haven’t been on the team for ten months already.” You mumble alongside a dramatic shift of your body and folding of your arms for good measure.
Tony shrugs at your statement, “You win some, you lose some kid. Widow, you are of course invited, and by that I mean you have to be in attendance also.”
Natasha widens her eyes as she goes to object to Tony's offer, “No, I was serious when I told you I would not attend anymore of your ridiculous charades that you so adamantly hold for no reason. I’m not going; in fact, I have plans.” Natasha simply claims.
The ending of her statement catches your attention, causing you to snap your gaze towards Natasha in a questioning manner- she hasn’t mentioned any unknown plans throughout the entirety of the day.
Tony smirks in a mocking manner, “Let me take a wild guess and put forward that it will include something as mind-blowing as your current activity of choice. I would never have thought you’d stoop so low as to resort to watching trashy TV on a weekday Romanoff.” Tony clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth several times to add to his disapproval of Natasha’s refusal to go to the party scheduled.
Natasha shrinks into herself lightly, choosing to contain the thought in her head that she may or may not have been considering catching up on the series later on in her room, “…no, plus y/n put this on. I’m not interested in the slightest.” Natasha firmly rejects the idea of being engrossed with the show, avoiding suspicion.
You turn to Tony with a smile, knowing that if you’re going down in regards to Tony’s party, Natasha is going down with you, “Don’t listen to her, it’s her most favourite show in the entire worl-“ Your exaggerated statement is put to a halt once you feel a firm strike to your chest, originating from Natasha’s pillow being swung towards you in hopes of silencing your teasing.
“That’s enough out of you y/l/n.” Natasha playfully scolds, grabbing the pillow once more to place back on her lap.
Tony shakes his head as he attempts to refocus the conversation, “Romanoff, I can assure you that this party will be one to remember. For all the right reasons of course; give me one more chance to prove it to you. If I’m wrong, I’ll even watch whatever monstrosity is captivating you all so much on the screen. What do you say Widow?”
Natasha bites her lip in thought, part of her wants to join in on the fun of having the team together for some drinks and a bit of dancing. Though she also wants to have an easy night as previously planned with you.
Tony attempts his best pout, unintentionally putting Natasha off the idea more with his odd choice of convincing.
You reach over to nudge Natasha’s knee with your hand to gather her attention, allowing her gaze to fall to you, “I’ll definitely go if you go. That way we can still hang out together and control the hectic levels of fun I’m sure Stark is so desperate for us to have.” You say lightheartedly, hoping to convince Natasha to join you.
Natasha thinks on your words for a moment, deciding that a night in your company will be perfect, no matter the setting.
With that notion in her mind, she gives you and Tony a nod of approval, “Alright, I’ll be there.”
If only Natasha knew what she was getting herself into.
———-
*The Party*
You harshly throw yourself down into a sitting position on one of the many couches decorating the frenzied, yet remarkable party playing out within the Compound.
Through your heavy actions, you earn a distasteful glare from Yelena as she mumbles several curses in Russian before addressing you properly, “Watch yourself y/n, you nearly made me spill my beer; this jacket isn’t cheap you know- well so the guy told me as I stole it from him-“
You raise a surprised eyebrow at her words, earning an eye roll from the blonde, “Oh come on, I am totally kidding… well not entirely, I needed information, he wouldn’t give it to me, blah, blah you know how the story goes.”
You let out a light laugh at her words, failing to see where the story was heading, and opting for the safe option of not asking anymore questions in regards to the topic- the less you know the better, “Sorry Lena, I’m just exhausted. I’ve been here for forty minutes and already I’ve had to display fake smiles; engage in exasperating small talk and in all honesty I’ve lost count with how many strangers I’ve had to shake hands with to please Tony Stark himself. That man is a nightmare.”
Yelena smiles at your dismal tone, allowing your features to cross in confusion, “What?” You ask.
“Oh, nothing, nothing. Let’s just say Stark has a surprise waiting for him in his room upon his return, courtesy of Kate Bishop and myself, that he will truly hate, and in your current predicament, I think you will love.” Yelena proudly takes a mouthful of the bitter and intoxicating beer in her grasp- revelling in the knowledge that through the shared boredom of her and Kate they can produce the most mischievous plots known to the existence of the Avengers.
You release a satisfied breath at Yelena’s cryptic words, allowing a surging happiness to course through your system that all this hassle will be worth it by the end of the night- you hope.
“See, I knew I liked you for a reason Belova.”
Yelena hums in acknowledgment, “What is not to love, I am pretty cool. Though, something tells me I am not as cool as Natasha-“
Without even moving your glance towards Yelena, you send her a warning jab with your elbow, earning a menacing chuckle from her as she goes to take another sip of her beer.
Before another word can be uttered, Wanda and Kate take a seat on the opposing couch- having collected their choice of beverage to get them through the night. You give them a nod in greeting as they direct quick ‘hello’s’ towards you; having seen Maria Hill quickly making her way towards your newly formed group.
“Hey, have any of you seen Carol? I’ve literally searched the entire Compound and I cannot find her anywhere.” Maria frustratedly lets out.
Wanda tilts her head in thought until she opens her mouth in realisation, “Oh, yes she is currently challenging Thor to an arm wrestling match. They’ll be on the third floor most likely.” Wanda reveals with a smile, hoping to ease any worry within Maria.
Maria groans in annoyance, “Of course she is, man she’s a hard one to find when you need her. Um, how do you get to the third floor again?” She asks unsure, knowing the Compound is like an endless maze thanks to Tony’s continuous modifications of the building.
You gather yourself up to stand by Maria, readying yourself to point an arm out to direct her gaze to the concealed staircase used to access the third and fourth floor.
Before you can verbally direct Maria, your eyes land on quite potentially the most magnificent sight to ever be graced upon you.
Natasha slowly makes her way into the colossal room, allowing her viridescent eyes to roam the guests dancing and mingling their way across the open space.
Her image is flawless; her wine red and signature hair perfectly reflects the multitude of colourful lights that easily roam their way throughout the room; her chosen outfit entailing a ravishing black dress that hugs her body to an impeccability that can only belong to Natasha Romanoff herself. However, the detail that traps your attention most is the cherry shaded lipstick blanketing her addictive, plump lips.
Having noticed your engrossed state, Wanda takes it upon herself to guide Maria over to Carol herself; biting her lip at the blaring thoughts your mind can conjure in appreciation for Natasha’s goddess capabilities.
The nearing of clicking heels snaps you out of your own mind, as Natasha spots you from a far and eagerly makes her way over to you.
You allow yourself to close the distance at a heightened pace, refusing to withstand another second without Natasha being near you.
Through your diverted attention, you frustratedly stumble towards Natasha; who luckily stabilises you with ease, “Oh, careful y/n. I’ve not even been here for ten seconds and you’re already falling for me.” Natasha teases with a smirk.
You quickly compose yourself and mumble a ‘thank you’ towards her before finding your voice, “You wish Romanoff.”
Unbeknownst to you, she truly hopes she has such an effect on you.
Filling the silence, a sharp pain strikes you at the back of your neck, producing a grimace from you as you notice a metal bottle cap drop to the floor, beside your foot. You turn to the direction of its supposed origin- noticing the impressed faces of Kate and Yelena at the obtaining of your attention.
“When you are quite finished drooling- I mean talking to my Sister. Would you be so kind as to fetch us some more drinks.” Yelena taps her empty bottle in emphasis of its now drink-free state.
You roll your eyes with a shake of your head at Yelena words, turning your sight back towards Natasha who is failing to stifle a laugh at Yelena’s teasing, “I swear I’m going to kick Barton’s ass for teaching Kate that bottle cap trick.” You rub your neck in a soothing motion from the strike inflicted by the Younger Archer.
Natasha hums in agreement, knowing Clint has the tendency to show certain members of the team the more rebellious tricks opposed to the ones instructed for delivery by S.H.I.E.L.D.
“So, can I get you something to drink? My treat.” You remark, knowing it’s an open bar and hoping to catch a smile from Natasha.
She doesn’t disappoint as her alluring smile forms at your offer, “Hmm, surprise me.” She responds, earning an unexpected ‘oh’ from you.
“I’ll be right back, Miss Romanoff.” You take your leave to collect the drinks requested by your closest teammates; hoping to rush back so you don’t get dragged across the room to meet another one of Tony’s guests that he insists you greet.
Natasha watches you go before finishing her journey to the area of couches you were occupying before her arrival.
As she goes to sit down in a vacant seat, she intentionally ignores Kate and Yelena, who in their less than sober state have taken it upon themselves to replicate yours and Natasha’s conversation- with some additional kissing noises and outrageous flirtation that has Natasha contemplating in the not so subtle act of bashing their heads together, in hope of knocking some maturity into them- hope being the key word.
Luckily for you, but not so lucky for Natasha, a rather giddy and lightheaded Tony makes his way over to her; having made thorough use of his own open bar.
“Widow! Natasha! There you are, I have been searching all over for you, you little minx.” The little filter that Tony had in the first place has completely shattered with each dose of alcohol that he has consumed over the party’s duration.
Tony shuffles over to the seat next to Natasha, causing her to move over quickly to avoid Tony’s lack of awareness of his surroundings to cause him to unintentionally sit on her lap.
As he snuggles his way into the seat, he nods his head towards Yelena and Kate, not caring to strike up a conversation with the two, “Now, Romanoff, part of me thought you’d be too, well your earnest self to attend my little shindig.”
Natasha decides to entertain Tony in his current state, knowing he’ll soon move on once his boredom reaches its peak, “Oh really, why is that may I ask?”
Tony sways his movements slightly to turn towards Natasha, intaking a deep breath to keep his thoughts in check, “Well, to put it quite simply Widow; you’ve lost your touch. You’re not as fun and exciting as you once were. We want the old Romanoff back-“ Tony interrupts himself with a strike of a firm hand towards his leg, directing attention to his apparent plea.
Natasha scowls at Tony, “What are you talking about? I haven’t lost my ‘touch’.” She attempts to defend herself, forgetting that Tony’s mind is not of sober thoughts.
Just as Tony goes to open his mouth once more, you arrive back to the area; passing over Yelena’s and Kate’s drink as they mindlessly take them from you, having lost themselves in their own conversation.
“Hey, what’s going on?” You ask cautiously, noticing the unnerving glare Natasha is directing at Tony- who seems completely unphased and unaware of the impact of his words.
“Oh, just telling Widow here how boring she is now, and how we’re all glad she could join us.” Tony rambles on, attempting to grab at the chilled beer in your hand that you gathered for Natasha.
You swiftly pull it away from him, “Tony, stop being an ass. Nat is probably, actually no, is the most entertaining member on this team. Natasha and boring don’t mix.” You effortlessly defend Natasha, knowing insecurities of her impression towards the others has come up in conversation. Yes, Natasha is a confident woman, though the inflicting damage caused by the Red Room still infiltrates her mind in cruel and vile ways in which she feels as though she has to change the person she was created to be, to be the one the team loves and supports.
Tony obnoxiously blows a surge of air through his lips in disbelief, “Please, we all know I am the most interesting member present. I mean, take this example for instance: if we got a rock, a plain, ordinary rock, I would find it highly taxing and difficult to differentiate between Romanoff and this boring rock that I somehow acquired.” Tony loses himself in his mindless babbling.
You look over towards Natasha, feeling your heart pang in turmoil at her disheartened features. All of her tormenting worries are being announced right in front of her; assisting in the miserable tears cascading down her face.
You go to reach out for Natasha before she abruptly stands up and removes herself from the scene.
The sudden action captures Yelena’s attention, filling her with concern for her sister.
“Nat? Sestra!? What is going on?” Yelena loudly questions, noticing your fuming gaze towards Tony.
Tony sleepy looks over each member present, completely unaware of the hurt caused by his stupidity in the moment, “Since Romanoff has left us in such a hurry, can I have her beer?” Tony reaches out once more for the drink furiously clutched in your hand.
You choose to slam the bottle down on the table placed in front of the couches, not caring over the alcohol now tainting the surface, “You’re lucky you’re not wearing it Stark.” You harshly direct towards Tony, opting to leave and find Natasha in hopes of consoling her.
Yelena watches the scene unfold in puzzlement, Natasha has never walked away in such a manner before, allowing her to conclude that Tony has struck a nerve with her.
Tony lazily moves forth to claim the unattended beer; ignorant to the enraged stares being directed towards him by the two younger Avengers.
——————-
You don’t know how much time has passed, but in the duration you’ve failed to locate Natasha.
With endless apologies and light shoves, you make your way through the crowded room; eyes scanning frantically in hopes that you’ll find Natasha and attempt to fix the mess created by Tony.
Frustration gets the better of you, as you rub your hands across your face to centre yourself, you’re running out of not only ideas, but places to search.
As your hand moves to cover your mouth, you spot Wanda, Maria and Carol clambering in a drunk manner up a set of stairs; releasing bouts of roaring laughter as they desperately clutch onto each other to avoid a nasty fall.
With your luck thinning out, you push your way towards them rapidly, considering the possibility they may have seen Natasha.
“Guys, have you seen Nat?” You breathlessly ask, feeling the effects of not only the exertion to travel throughout the compound as quickly as your legs can take you, but the rising heat of the hectic room.
Carol pouts in thought, “Urm, Nat? Which one is that again?” She asks Wanda and Maria, who find her fake confusion comedic.
“Carol-“
“Oh, the one with the shield huh? Or is it the bow and arrow set? I can’t quite remember-” Maria dazedly asks you, struggling to maintain focus on your features as she sways towards Wanda for stability.
“Can you all stop acting like complete and total jackasses and answer my question?!” The raise in your voice snaps a partial moment of sobriety into them.
A flash of red passes through Wanda’s irises as she attempts to assist you with her mystic abilities, “She’s at the minibar, you know the one where Thor stores the Asgardian liquor?”
Your eyes light up at Wanda’s answer, finally being one step closer to finding Natasha, “Wanda, you’re a lifesaver. Thank you so much!” You shout as you jog towards the specified location.
You make it across to the minibar in record time, refusing to waste one more second. As you release that final push through the remaining guests that stand in your way, that’s when you find yourself witnessing the rather destructive behaviour Natasha is displaying.
She readies herself another shot of what can be presumed to be one of Thor’s many alcoholic delights that decorate this area of the room.
With one quick swirl of the liquid filling her miniature glass, she releases a breath and quickly downs the shot in one; barely flinching at the burning sensation making its way down her throat.
As you near Natasha further, the drunken features that have progressed are obvious: her usually impeccable posture is slouched across the bar as she desperately raids the supply available to her; her eyes are glazed with a depressive shine- a battle between the red strain of her tears against her vivid green eyes highlights her sorrow further.
Just as Natasha goes to pour herself another drink, you place your hand slowly across the opening of the glass; preventing her from serving another round of regret and earning a scoff from a displeased Natasha.
“Move your hand, I won’t ask again.” Natasha grumbles, her voice carrying a huskiness to it that is most likely from the continued burn of each drink she has ingested.
You use your hand to slide the glass away from her and across the bar, “Natasha, maybe you should slow down. I know you’re upset, but Tony had no right to-“
Natasha staggers back more forcefully than the two of you would have expected, causing you to reach out to keep her in balance, “God y/n, I’m fine. I’m doing what I’m supposed to at parties, getting wasted and having fun. Since, I-I apparently don’t know what that is-“ Natasha rambles on her drunken words, quickly dismissing your concern.
You sigh at her state, hating the fact that she truly believes drinking her problems away will bury them- though they always find a way to re-surface, usually in the morning with a hangover on the side.
“Nat-“
Natasha shakes her head to silence you, “No, I didn’t ask for your help or your pity. Now you either join me and have fun, or you can go away.” She releases a heavy breath at her own words, knowing the alcohol is catching up with her and flooding her bloodstream.
As you move to grab the bottle Natasha is choosing to hug close to herself, a tightened grip is placed on your shoulder, “Ahhh, there you are Widow, we missed you over in our little corner-“ Tony decides to implement himself in an unwanted scene.
Natasha picks up the bottle of liquor and takes an immense gulp from its contents as she storms away from Tony. You try to follow her, until Tony stops you once more, “That reminds me, I need to introduce you to-“
You audibly groan at Tony’s incessant disregard for Natasha’s feelings, “Tony! I do not give a fuck about who you want me to meet. I’m trying to clean up a mess that you caused since you’re clearly too self absorbed to deal with it on your own tonight-“
Tony turns his features down in a rare calmness, seemingly taking your sour words towards his behaviour.
That is until Yelena rushes towards you, “Y/n, where’s Natasha!?”
“She was just here until-“ Your words are drowned out by the thunderous beat of the speakers placed around the room, as they begin to blast out a steady beat belonging to the iconic song ‘Hypnotize’ by The Notorious B.I.G.
Tony releases an ear-splitting set of whistles as his eyes land on the scene that the crowd around you eagerly rush towards.
As Yelena and yourself look towards your left, you’re met with quite frankly a horrifying scene of Natasha hoisting herself up on a steel table.
Without a second thought, you rush towards the edge of the table. Having to listen to the crowd now encouraging and cheering Natasha on for her drunken performance.
Natasha effortlessly moves to the beat resounding throughout the Compound, playing up to the chants of her name as she swings her arms in calculated movements to the rest of her body.
Each sway of her hips allows her to sink further into her routine, losing herself in the music.
Yelena attempts to catch Natasha’s attention, though the music easily overpowers any protests made, not that Natasha would listen to reason anyway.
Natasha rubs her hands across the darkened material of her dress, accentuating her features concealed by the tailored covering.
You can only watch in disbelief from the side, mortified that the situation has escalated so quickly.
As the music continues, so does Natasha’s movements. She picks up in confidence and drops her knees to surge back up into a twirl, earning a chorus of cheers.
As Natasha drops to her knees completely in front of you, she uses her focused gaze to study you; choosing to thrash her arms and body in rhythmic ways. You shake your head at her behaviour, especially when she chooses to caress your face with a gentle hand before pushing it away suddenly, attempting to get a reaction out of you.
Failing to do so, Natasha shrugs and manoeuvres herself back on her hands and knees, using the flat surface of the table to assist her movements easily. She lazily lets her hair dangle down as she continues to move her body to the music.
With a forceful flip of her head, she resumes a standing position, allowing her feet to mindlessly move for her. Though, the surrounding crowd heightens as the song goes on, causing spillages from glasses to splash wherever they may please. Natasha’s foot catches on a spillage of Vodka, causing her to slip off the table.
You instantly unfold your arms and catch her before she can hit the floor. The crowd failed to notice her fall, too engrossed in the music and atmosphere.
Natasha wraps her arms around your neck as you attempt to stand her up. However, from her drunken state and constant twirls, her head takes a turn for the worst and sends her vision spinning. She chooses to fully relax into your arms, refusing to stand.
Yelena grabs Natasha’s arm in order to pull her up some more, “This is not like her at all, I do not know what to do.” Yelena announces, worried for her Sister.
“Lena, I’ll look after her and make sure she is okay. You go find the others and try and get everyone to go home.” You offer to Yelena, knowing her increased worry may not be the best for the situation regarding Natasha currently.
Yelena nods and gives you a grateful smile; briefly hugging Natasha before making her way across the room.
Having time to ground herself, Natasha stands up slightly. You move a steady arm under her as she wraps one arm across your shoulder, giving her the guidance needed to stagger out from the crowds.
As Natasha is incredibly unsteady on her feet, her constant sways and staggers resort to you practically carrying her to the elevator; deducing that stairs to the Avenger’s living quarters may not be suitable for Natasha at this moment in time.
Taking the last steps towards the elevator doors, you tighten your grip on Natasha as you use your free arm to press the ‘call’ button for the elevator.
In the distance the music slowly dies down, allowing you to hear Natasha’s words, “That was such a good party, we should do more things like that, huh y/n/n.”
You find yourself agreeing with Natasha, hoping to keep her awake enough and in light spirits to make the journey back to her room easier.
As the doors open, you guide Natasha forward, until she refuses your help and leans against the bar fixed onto the wall of the modern elevator. You make a point to stay close to her, knowing her confidence in her own balance is greatly misjudged.
“J.A.R.V.I.S, can you take us to the living quarters level please?” You input your desired floor choice to the A.I. system, receiving confirmation.
“No, let’s go up to the roof, the stars will be out and we can look at each and every one of them.” Natasha slurs out.
You shake your head at her words, “I think what you need is sleep.” You direct towards an unimpressed Natasha.
She pouts her lip in challenge at your words, “Well maybe sleep needs me, did you consider that y/n?” Natasha asks seriously, causing you to chuckle at her confusing remark.
“I do apologise Nat, how silly of me for not considering that option.” You play along, allowing Natasha to rest her head on your shoulder at your agreement.
“Mhm, very silly. Hey J.A.R.V.I.S, did you see me dance?” Natasha sleepily questions the A.I. as the elevator shifts in movement to journey upwards towards the correct floor.
“Indeed Miss Romanoff, it was rather… splendid.”
Natasha closes her eyes and beams at J.A.R.V.I.S’ words, earning an eye roll from you, not forgetting the stress it caused to Yelena and yourself.
As you arrive at the designated floor, you whisper to Natasha in order to not disturb the serenity created from the sudden silence, “Hey, we’re here.”
Natasha intakes a sharp breath through her nose as she goes to move forward, though this time she reaches out for your help- which you gladly provide.
You pace yourself towards Natasha’s bedroom door, only experiencing the odd trip from her unsteady feet.
Once you make it, you’re stopped by Natasha’s curious questioning, “Why are we here? This isn’t my door.”
You frown at her words, “What do you mean? This is your door Nat.”
Natasha shakes her head defiantly, “No, this isn’t my door, my door is charcoal coloured.”
You look towards the charcoal door in front of you, smirking at the realisation that the alcohol isn’t done influencing Natasha’s serious nature.
“Well if it isn’t your door, who’s is it?” You question.
Natasha studies your face intently, quite possibly attempting to gauge an answer from you, “Hmm, I guess we’ll never know.” Natasha sighs out eventually.
You hum in agreement as you input Natasha’s passcode on the Lock Screen sealing the door- having exchanged each other’s passcodes for any late night visits the pair of you have picked up on along the months of your ever-growing friendship.
Once the code is accepted and a successful beep is heard, you push down on the handle of the door and enter Natasha’s well organised room.
Natasha gazes in astonishment at the tech, apparently never having seen it before- rejecting the possibility of her daily use of the tech to enter and lock her own bedroom.
As she slurs out her pure amazement at the action carried out, you guide her into her room and gently allow her to sit on her bed, moving to switch on the closest light.
As the desk light partially illuminates the room, Natasha flinches at the bright source, grumbling some curses at the pain straining her eyes.
She uses her hands to rub at her eyes in an attempt to work out the pain, unknowingly smudging her once perfectly kept mascara across her eyes.
As she looks up at you, you notice her make-up predicament and move towards her en suite to fetch several make-up wipes to remove the excess marks now smeared across her face.
“Come here.” You say as you sit next to her, guiding her gaze towards you as you gently move the damp wipe across her face delicately.
Natasha closes her eyes and relaxes into your movements, not having the energy to do much else and feeling the initial buzz of the alcohol wearing off.
As you continue to clear her face, she mumbles out a quiet ‘thank you’.
“What for?” You speak gently as you concentrate on your task.
Natasha opens her eyes once she feels your movements stop, reaching for another wipe to remove her lipstick, “For looking after me, for always being there for me. For being you.” She lets out slowly.
“Always Nat, you’re one of the most important people in my life, I’d do anything to be there for you.”
Natasha’s head suddenly lolls to the side, causing you to put your hands up either side of her to prevent her from falling until she steadies herself- tiredness settling in.
As a few seconds pass for Natasha to regain herself, she speaks once more, “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier when you tried to help me.”
You wave a hand to dismiss her words, “Don’t worry about it, you were upset and Tony was being an asshole. I get it.”
As you go to bunch the used and now dried out make-up wipes, Natasha suddenly finds herself asking, “W-would you maybe stay the night?”
Her eyes widen momentarily in fear of rejection, until you smile at her words, “Yeah, of course I will.”
Natasha feels a bubbling of excitement in her stomach, with having you taking care of her and willing to stay, she uses her missed opportunity from earlier in the day to fuel her newfound confidence from what she can only assume to be the alcohol, “Y/n, I have feelings for you. Not like a best friend kind of way, more of a I want to spend every waking minute of everyday loving you kind of way.-“
You freeze in your place, never expecting those words to ever leave Natasha’s mouth- of course you’ve hoped for them, but to hear them out loud is everything you could have dreamed for and more.
Unfortunately for Natasha, she doesn’t have insight to your mind and fails to notice the now heart fluttering thoughts bursting with the idea that Natasha reciprocates your love clouding your mind.
Natasha retreats into herself, silently scolding herself for being so careless with her emotions. How could she be so naive to think you’d feel the same way, she should have never assumed you’d automatically understand her love for you. She should have never got into this state because now she could have cost herself your friendship.
Natasha continues to torment herself, unwillingly reliving the haunting lessons and words originating from the Red Room itself.
That is until you speak up, “Natasha, I have feelings for you too-“
Natasha meets your gaze with tear filled eyes, to which you instantly move closer to wipe away any that dare to escape.
She can’t help the sobs that escape her, pure relief of knowing you feel the same way about her as she does for you.
You steadily bring her into a hug, choosing to shuffle the two of you back towards the headboard of the bed and seeking a more comfortable position.
Natasha moves herself to lay against your side as you draw soothing circles across her arm. From the mixed emotions of the night and the alcohol, it was bound to end in tears, she’s just thankful to have you here to comfort her.
“I was so scared you didn’t feel the same way.” Natasha sniffles out, causing you to give her a reassuring squeeze.
“Nat, I’ve always known how much I love you. Everything about you is so captivating. You never fail to make me smile or laugh; you’re always there for me when I need you. You make me want to be the best version of myself Natasha. I know I’d be lost without you, because without you Nat, life would lose all meaning. You give me so much to look forward to, it was just being able to hang out with you and see your mesmerising smile in the morning; that or some sarcastic remark that I should probably take offence towards but you’re so quick witted, I’ll let it slide. Though now, I get to look forward to so much more, like-“
You choose to look down and come to the realisation that Natasha is asleep, soft snores sounding from her as she uses half of your body as a designated pillow.
Refusing to disturb her peacefulness, you relax your body into the mattress and allow a form of slumber to overcome you, not before whispering a soft ‘goodnight’ to Natasha, finally knowing that the woman that stole your heart all those months ago, is the woman you’ll happily love for the remainder of your days.
———-
A soft heat spreads across your cheek as your eyes flutter open from the sunlight that trickles through the gaps of open blinds across the room from you.
In your sleepy haziness, it takes you a moment to register your surroundings, until the events of the previous night come rushing back to you.
A slight shift from the woman beside you catches your attention, as does the sticky note attached to her shoulder. You slowly move to peel it away, successfully not disturbing Natasha as you move to read the note.
‘It is about time you two declared your undying love for each other!
Y/n, thank you for taking care of Natasha and always being someone we can all rely on.
Sestra, I have left some painkillers and water on the side for your undoubtedly raging headache- and yes I will be back in the morning to remind you of all the embarrassing things you got up to.
Lena. ’
You smile at the handwritten note, looking over to see the stated painkiller and water combo for Natasha’s awaiting hangover on her desk- Yelena must have come in to check on Natasha after everyone went home.
Your thoughts are disturbed when a rather groggy Natasha speaks, “My head feels as though the Hulk himself has played football with it.”
You chuckle at Natasha’s words, loving the way she snuggles further into your embrace. As you are about to ask Natasha how she is feeling, she beats you to the mark with her own question.
“So, you love me huh?” Natasha suddenly asks.
You look down to see her eyes now fixated on your face, “I wasn’t sure if you would have remembered.” You let out, relieved beyond compare that Natasha recalled the conversation from the night before.
“Of course I do, when you love someone for all that time and they say it back; you make a point to remember it y/n/n.” Natasha smiles up at you, admiring your beauty up close, desperate to stay in this moment forever- despite the throbbing head and burning throat.
“Now, if you really do love me, then you’ll get me some painkillers and-“
“Already taken care of.” You pass Natasha the note left behind by Yelena. She squints furiously as she attempts to decipher Yelena’s note, widening her eyes and closing them several times to work the tiredness out of them.
Natasha groans in displeasure once she reaches the end of the note, “Oh god, was I really that bad last night?” She asks as she uses the note to cover her embarrassed features.
You tilt your head in pretend thought, “Well… yes, you were very soft and it was quite the experience but don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
Natasha playfully smacks your arm, moving herself to hide her head under her pillow to mumble out a false ‘I hate you’.
You laugh as you remove the pillow from her face and lean down to see her, taking care not to disturb her pained head too much, “I love you too.” You reply in the same manner as Natasha, allowing her to lean up and place a soft, yet well worth the wait kiss on your lips.
As you pull away, you fail to disguise the blush spreading across your face; using Natasha’s tactic of using the pillow to shield your face from her teasing manner.
A few stolen kisses; many whispered ‘I love you’s’ and unlimited heartwarming hugs later, you could finally admit that life couldn’t be more perfect.
It’s safe to say that you’re officially drunk on love.
————————
Taglist: @beefromanoff
#natasha romanoff#marvel#mcu#black widow#natasha romanoff one shot#natasha romanoff x reader#marvel fan fic#slightly smarter nat’s writing#slightly smarter nat#slightly smarter nat’s requests#natasha romanoff fic#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha x reader#anon request#black widow x reader#avenger reader#avengers imagine#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff fanfic
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Helloooooo
🎂- for Hatter Yelena
🎃- for jock Kate
😤- for mean Kate
🌑- for mean Carol
💀- for beast Kate
💍- for King Valkyrie
Heyy bestie, thanks for the asks 😊 half of these au’s are just crack ideas that we’ve came up with but I love them 😭 sorry these are kinda shit
🎂: A birthday headcanon 
She goes all out for your birthday. Balloons, streamers, banners, and the nicest cake she could get her hands on. Of course she had a lot of Kate’s help, but she’d never let you know that. She’s perfectly happy to let you think she managed it all on her own. Anything for her perfect little Alice.
🎃: A halloween headcanon
Kate was so excited about costumes, but because we all know she can never focus on one thing for long, she’d get distracted a million times and completely forget to sort out her costume. So you’d end up going around New York, dressed in the costume you had been planning for weeks, followed by your slightly disappointed girlfriend dressed in one of her sports jerseys, who kept telling people she was dresses as a basketball player.
😤: A jealousy headcanon
Its extremely rare that Kate allows you to be anywhere but by her side while in public, so its more than likely that you had managed to sneak off. It didn’t take Kate long to fund you, a few minutes at most. But when she finds you, you’re talking to one of the workers at your favourite store in the mall, completely obvious to their obvious flirting. Kate would drag you out of their in a second and wouldn’t even wait to reprimand you until you were home, dragging you to the nearest bathroom to scream at you, uncaring of who hears.
🌑: A dark headcanon
Carol is absolutely obsessed with pressing down on the bulge in your stomach where her strap sits. She presses down on it hard enough to make you scream and mocks you for how wet you get even at that.
💀: An injury headcanon
Beast Kate is almost obsessive when it comes to your safety. After all, the first time she met you, you had just been running from a pack of wolves in the middle of the woods. You arent capable of looking after yourself. If you get injured, itll definitely be whole Kate is out of be room. A paper cut or accidentally burning yourself on a candle. No matter how minor the injury is, it would send Kate into full on panic mode.
💍: A marriage headcanon
Most likely an arranged marriage. Of course Valkyrie certainly doesnt object, but you had no choice in the matter when your family essentially sold you as property to the King of Asgard. Ans Valkyrie takes full advantage of the fact that you are indeed her property.
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🎶✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨
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Yay!
Hey everyone! Today is the one year anniversary of the first fic I ever posted on here! It’s crazy to believe it’s been a year and it started with just a random time I went out on a limb and wrote something.
Thank you for every single like, comment, and especially reblog of my fics and other stuff I post! It means so so much to me.
I’m so thankful for the awesome people I’ve met along the way. I’ll be tagging some of y’all below, but again thank you to everyone I’ve interacted with even in a small way!
You’ve made a difference in my life! 💙
First off to my besties: @gracebutnotgraceful @i-wished-for-you-too Thank you for encouraging me to start posting my fics! Couldn’t do this without y’all!
And to @wandasbb thanks for being my best internet pal! Love you lots!
To everyone who deals with my day to day randomness: I love talking to all of you! Sending love to each of y’all! @didntalwayslookthisrough @maximotts @tastetherambeau @lilaloubear @kitmoas @crescent-witch @sidneyishere @a-real-fucking-legacy @furys-eyepatch @wndnat @thatsimplepoet @scarlet-clarity @themidnightcrimson @innocentdxll @wandasobsession @wandasdolly @chelleztjs18 (if I missed anyone, just knock me out and I’ll fix this)
@maximoffwitch @flightplan-fox @romanoffscottage @vancityfire13 @alotofpockets @milfloverslut @lightupthemoon @tonystarksfavoritedaughter @jeyramarie @when-wolves-howl @mcu-romanoff @flosbelova @be-missed @natsfirecat @madamevirgo @slightly-smarter-nat @fxckmiup @imdoingsortagay @kassies-take @oncebit7 @red1culous @exhaustedfangirl @fanboygarcia @therunawaykind @romanoffsbish and all my other mutuals!
#chloe’s random thoughts#wow#thank y’all so much#natasha romanoff x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#florence pugh x reader#chris evans x reader#elizabeth olsen x reader#tom holland x reader#jennifer walters x reader#carol danvers x reader
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𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞 ⇢ 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐛𝐮𝐠
url change!
tagging sum moots to make you aware<3: @mad-elia @n0agranger @coreycom @milestellussy @evermoreal @starryevermore @starksbabie @morwap @munsnrot @munsons-girl @jamespottersmommy @padf00ts-l0ver @marauders3rawh0re @balenciagabucky @slightly-smarter-nat
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Just so you know, like 92% of this Kate fic has went through the process of @slightly-smarter-nat and I messaging about it, so it’s kind of on crack……she has the ability to grow a dick on command
Okay but that's a super power I really want sjakak
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