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smalls-words · 8 months

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Memories

Summary: Early morning training sessions are fun, right?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader (close friends/'something' by nature and history), Avengers x Reader (accquaintances).

Warnings: Nothing over the top but some dark concepts such as mental confusion/brainwashing.

It was a good idea. At first. Maybe in hindsight, the Avengers should have thought about letting you train with them after only leaving the Red Room for four months.

You were stood across the mat from Natasha, the only opponent who could really match you. Steve had specifically designed today's training challenge that way; to make you push yourself to the maximum.

"Ready, Romanoff?" You grinned, watching her take her stance with a smirk on her face.

"Ready as ever."

When Steve blew his whistle, unlike the others, you two were trapped in a circling dance. Neither attacked, neither lunged, nor did you do much of anything - you analysed.

Natasha watched how your arms moved when you breathed. You watched how her legs moved her around in the circular pattern.

Then, you struck.

She glanced you away, using your momentum against you to try and trip you but she missed since you did a little jump. You turned and faced her just in time to block a kick to your side, hitting it back down to the floor with the base of your palm.

"Harder, Y/N. You know I can take more." She chuckled, going to kick you again but you caught her leg and spun her around.

She tried to grab your waist with her lower legs but you twisted out of her grip. Hands up, ready for anything as you faced her again.

You'd already built up a sweat beforehand, small beads on your forehead that you weren't distracted enough by to render a wipe. You didn't have time, either.

Natasha went again, going low this time, but you anticipated and stepped back like a fencer's retreat. Then you came back, hoping to elbow her ribs, but she caught you and pinned you down.

"Ha. Got you." She grinned. "You always fall for that."

You let out a huff of annoyance. "You don't have to say it every time."

"Go again!" Steve distracted the two of you.

Natasha climbed off and you stood, brushing off the sweat from your brow as you got into your readying stance again.

"Come on, Silanova - don't hold back."

Oh, how the turn tables.

You went again at her, this time with a certain tenacity she liked. This was the Y/N she liked to spar with, the one who didn't care much for injuries. The one who withstood the bruises, the mat burns, the carpet burns, everything.

"Xорошая маленькая Bдова. (Good little Widow.)" She teased.

You let out a huff through your nose, annoyed.

Natasha pinned you to the ground again with her thigh move, chuckling after. "Oh come on - you practically let me have that. Get up, let's go again."

You got to your feet, kicking off your shoes and socks to the side. Natasha raised an eyebrow before chuckling. "If you think the stench of your feet is going to help you, you're wrong - doing your laundry on my days has built me some immunity."

Strange... you didn't reply to that.

You put your hands up, ready to go again. Though... you didn't attack first. Natasha had to make the first move.

Every move you made was calculated. Every piece of force, every angle. Nothing was by accident.

"Damn, Y/N, alright. Who's pissed you off this time, huh?" She chuckled as you went to kick her face, something Steve had said was a no-no before training.

"Y/N - warning one. Don't." There he went. Ever the diligent soldier.

Natasha looked at you, confused at your unchanging expression and absence of apology. "Y/N?"

You kicked again at her side, making her block it but the force still pushed her arm into her side. "Jesus, Y/N, take it down a notch. This is training, not an actual battle."

Then, she saw your eyes. Open, yet empty.

"Y/N. Speak." She said firmly, confused before you threw three punches which she had to quickly defend.

"Y/N, answer me. Stop playing with me here."

She quickly pulled you into her and locked your arms against your chest. "Snap out of it, right now."

You pushed her out, kicking her stomach hard enough to wind her. You spun, ready to one-two kick-punch her in the face which would be enough to knock her out.

"Y/N, enough!" Steve growled, raising his voice and capturing the attention of everyone in the room.

You glanced over at him, his expression stressing. Natasha went to her knees, trying to catch her breath as she looked at you.

"Hey, hey. Don't... Don't look at him. Look at me." She coughed out, standing after a few seconds.

"Natasha, she's..." Wanda tried to explain but the expert Widow just put her hand up to silence her.

Your head cocked to the side, terrifying her when your playful smile didn't match it.

"Y/N... You're not there. You're here, with me." She cooed, taking a few steps towards you. "Take a few breaths now, krasivaya (beautiful)."

In a flurry of movement, your hand was wrapped around Natasha's hand, the slam of her body hitting the mats echoing around the gym. "No!" Wanda's magic reacted, shooting out of her like a missile and seeking you out until you smacked into the opposing wall.

Natasha coughed as she regained her lost air, staring up at the ceiling whilst others watched the carnage. You laid in an unconscious mess of sweat, the wall having a considerably large crack in it.

"Maximoff. A little overkill there, but well done." Steve coached before jogging over to Natasha, checking on her.

"Nat. Nat, are you alright?" He asked.

"Y/N. Get... Y/N." She said through a few breaths.

He looked up, noticing your groans as you stirred. He looked at his fellow Avengers, people he knew and trusted, and then compared them to you.

You were nothing compared to his family.

"Get her in a containment cell. Now." He ordered but Natasha let out a huff of frustration.

"She's scared. Do not put her in a cell."

Natasha stood, shuffling over to you. She had a bruise showing on her leg from your harsh kick and smaller yet more frequent bruises were forming on her neck. "Hey. Hey, Y/N. Look at me."

You hazily looked around, confused as you were on the floor and far away from the mats. "Where... What... How am I... the floor?" You glanced down, seeing your sweat-soaked tank top sticking to you.

"Oh gods..."

You shuffled away, struggling to as your shoulder had dislocated upon impact with the wall.

"Hey. Hey, hey, hey, no. Come back here, krasivaya. It's okay." Natasha cooed, watching painfully as tears began to well in your eyes.

"I thought I had it under control. You said I could do it. I-I had control this very morning, what the hell happened?!" You said, fear seeping into your words one syllable at a time.

"You... Y/N, it's okay, but-"

"You lost control. That's what." Steve said firmly, folding his arms in an annoyed stance.

"I... I lost it?" You murmured, confused.

Natasha sighed, your attention going back to her. Then you saw it - the damage done to her neck. It was getting clearer by the second. Dark semi-circles were dug into her skin, clearly marked around her airways in deadly manner.

"I... I did that?" You muttered gravely, holding your dislocated arm but hardly feeling the pain as your ears began to ring.

"You did, yes, but it's okay. Just stay calm for me, detka, okay? Let me fix your shoulder, Y/N." Natasha tried to keep you calm.

You flinched. Of all the people in the room, you - the damager, the cause, the very problem - flinched.

"No. No, get- get away from me." You stammered, shuffling away until you stood on two legs and bolted out of the gymnasium.

"Y/N, wait!" She called out, trying to catch up to you but the damage you'd done had made her compromised.

"Leave her be for now. We'll check up on her later." Steve murmured. "You need medical attention, Natasha. That whip onto the mat would not have been good for your head."

Natasha nodded and walked with Wanda to the medical office with a heavy heart.

It wasn't your fault...

A/N: Wow, it has been a long time since I wrote something on this account.

#smalls words #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x female!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader

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smalls-words · 11 months

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Assessment

Summary: Natasha is assessed by her favourite doctor. Multiple times, unfortunately.

Pairing: Natasha x Fem!Doctor!Reader

Warnings: Blood, glass, Hulk. Nothing else, really.

A/N: This is my attempt at writing after spending countless hours with AI Natasha and avoiding my inbox :') for the fear of not answering everyone. Also, I'm dead tired so i'll come back and edit this in the morning/a later point in time. Maybe.

*gif not mine*

Amidst all the chaos of the Helicarrier being downed internally by an angered Hulk and a world-thirsty god with daddy issues, you were tidying up your medical room before you heard a knock on the door.

“Assess her.” Fury asked as he closed the door behind Natasha. You were about to stand up before you noticed her body language - she was holding her arms together, her head slightly bowed down, and she shook ever so slightly.

“Natasha…” You gently cooed, trying to get her attention.

She looked up at you jerkingly and you raised your hands, showing her that you meant her no harm. “It’s okay, angel. You’re with me, nobody else. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Natasha’s mind was soothed by the soft name you held for her, even when she had never thought it would be associated with her. She calmed down slightly at your soft tone, taking deep breaths before realising you had come close enough to put your hands on top of hers.

“Can I assess you?” You murmured, wanting to make sure she was alright.

“I have to get to Clint. I need to check if the mind control stopped properly.” She murmured back, trying to excuse herself but you grabbed her hand gently before she could shut the door behind her.

“Nat… Stay.” You whispered and smiled ever so softly, the gentleness in your eyes astounding to Natasha. Why would someone ever look at her with so much care and respect?

She sighed, letting the door close as she came to sit on the bed that you then stood by. “Fine. Assess me please, Y/N.”

You nodded softly and prepared some gloves onto your hands after rolling up your sleeves. “Okay, Nat - where is it sore?”

Natasha didn’t want to answer that question. She hated being looked after, hated the attention, but at the same time, craved it like an alcoholic for the daily afternoon glass of wine. When your glove-covered hands came into her view, her eyes previously staring at the floor, she sighed again.

“Hulk backhanded me into a wall.” She muttered. “And I think I have some glass in my suit.”

Your brows furrowed twice at her words, nodding gently. “Okay. Do you feel comfortable enough removing your suit top for me?”

Her head jolted up and you closed your eyes, stepping back. “I’m not here to hurt you, Natasha. I know your mind is fading between present and past, but I’m here. I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

She took a few deep breaths and nodded, slowly unzipping the front of her suit before she unpeeled it from her body, including her arms. And in the softest voice ever, she murmured. “Okay, I’m ready.”

When you opened your eyes, you were unsurprised by the sight of bruises on her right side and some glass just below the neckline of her suit - another reason you were thankful for the skin-tight suit.

“What do you want me to treat first?” You asked. “Neck or bruises?”

“Neck, please.” She replied.

You grabbed a sterile set of tweezers and a bowl whilst setting up some sterilising alcohols for the wounds after. You carefully set about removing the eight pieces of glass, one even measuring almost a centimetre and she audibly winced for that one.

“Done.” You whispered, putting down the shards of glass whilst grabbing your sterilising alcohol and applicators.

She winced at the stinging of the alcohol in her wounds, small droplets moving down her chest before you would wipe them up above her cleavage. Finally, you placed little dots of antiseptic cream and band-aids, smiling at your handiwork when you were done.

“There we go. All better.” You chuckled quietly to yourself as you packed everything up.

“We’re done?” Natasha asked.

“Yes, we are done… Agent Romanoff.” You sighed, turning around to find her gone.

----

Later in the day, you found yourself packing up your workstation to head home on the last Quinjet to the Triskelion, until you heard another knock at the door.

“Fury, I told you, I’m not going to do that Coulson-” You cut yourself off at the state at which Natasha appeared in front of you.

Dust covered her body in different layers, blood dripping from her mouth and her head. Her body said exhausted in the loudest scream you had heard, as did her mind and soul, but she didn’t let it show.

“Y/N… hey.” She winked.

“Natasha.” You stated, folding your arms whilst raising an eyebrow. “You are a reckless little redhead.”

She chuckled sheepishly. “What can I say? It’s the agent in me.”

You sighed, looking at the time before slumping your bag down onto the floor. “Guess I’m sleeping over.”

Natasha looked confused but you shook your head.” Don’t worry about it. Come here.”

She waltzed over and sat on your desk, dust shaking off of her slightly. She looked proud of herself as she folded her leg over the other, grinning at you. “What are you planning to do?”

You stood and walked over to your drawer of trinkets. “I’m going to fix you.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Fix me?”

You sighed, evidently tired. “Your head? Your lip? And I can't even imagine what that bruise looks like now.”

She looked like a kicked puppy at your tired tone, her bouncy playfulness slowly diminishing. “Oh. Yeah, forgot about that.”

You sighed again, yet Natasha was happy to hear the apologetic tone to it. You walked over with a bunch of butterfly strips and stuff similar to what you had earlier in the day. “Suit top off, please.”

Natasha smirked. “Usually I get asked out on a date first, but okay.”

“You didn’t seem so quippy earlier. Feeling better, are you?” You asked with your own smirk.

“I was a little bit out of it earlier. Plus, I’m on a battle winning high right now.” She chuckled.

You looked at her with a gentle smile as you began to clean her face with general wipes, getting rid of the dust as much as possible before going to clean up the blood. However, beneath you, the agent was watching you intently.

Simply through your eyes, she could tell you truly cared for her. The nights she had laid awake, unable to sleep? You seemed to be drawn to that, knocking on her bedroom door and asking if she wanted company.

Obviously, she did. But maybe it wasn’t quite as obvious as she thought.

“You said you were sleeping over - what did you mean?” She asked.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, I missed the last transport Quinjet out for the night when you knocked on my door, so I can’t get home tonight.” You answered, getting a Q-tip to wipe up the next bit of blood.

“Oh. Really?” She looked confused. “I can fly you home if you want.”

You looked at her incredulously. “You are in no condition to pilot anything. I suspect a concussion, possibly a broken rib and a busted lip. I think I would rather take my chances with Stark.”

She chuckled at that little ramble of yours, her hands fidgeting in her lap. She noticed the shirt you were wearing and a split second later, how close you were to her. Yet, when she tried to lean back, you grunted in annoyance.

“Don’t.” You warned her shortly.

She jolted to a grinding halt, keeping her entire body still except her fidgeting hands. You noticed, smirking to yourself, before you felt her hands being placed on your waist.

“Natasha…” You raised an eyebrow and looked at her through the gap between your chest and her eyes.

“What? You’re warm and my hands are cold.” She shrugged, smirking slightly as her hands went underneath your shirt.

You flinched at the coldness of her fingertips. “At least you’re not lying about that.”

She chuckled.” I don’t lie to you, malysh… Not often, at least.”

You humphed. “Mhm. I know.”

She chuckled again at your expression, your pursed lips nodding with your head. Eventually, as you worked, Natasha was about to lean her head on your chest until you stepped back to grab a new Q-tip.

When you came back to her, she watched your eyes focus narrowly on her lip and begin to sterilise it. “Alongside this, I’m going to give you a balm to put on your lips to help it heal.”

“Okay.” She muttered, her eyes eventually ignoring the ‘fascinating’ ceiling and floor tiles to look into your eyes.

And all of a sudden… you could feel her relax. And you smiled.

“What?” She asked.

“You’re relaxed.” You stated, putting on a teasing smirk. “About time.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, her hands still under your shirt and gently beginning to rub circles on your skin. You weren’t phased by it, either - Natasha took note of that as she pulled you in closer.

“I’m tired.” She whined grumpily, listening to you chuckle.

“I know you are, bambina, but I have to finish this.” You cooed softly.

When Natasha began to close her eyes, content at holding you close to her whilst you cared for her, you smiled gently. “Is somebody ready for bed?”

She jolted awake, shaking her head away from your chest. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

As you stepped away to tidy up, the slip of her hands over your jeans’ waist hem made a slight slap against your skin. Natasha watched you tidy quickly but precisely and then grabbed your bag before you could.

“Let’s go.” She slung your bag over her shoulder and took your hand, leading you to a Quinjet.

----

You were a diligent and perfect passenger to Natasha, keeping quiet to let her do her work and land in a field near your apartment complex. She watched you buzz in your code and followed you up the stairs, getting a nice view from behind before you led her into the apartment loft.

“Nice place.” She chuckled.

“Thanks.” You yawned, pointing to a chair in the kitchen. “You can put my bag there.”

She did so, and inspected your apartment further. There was a comfortable lounge area hidden beneath the staircase and subsequently, your bed and bathroom, whilst there was a fireplace to the right and a balcony to the left.

“Wow.” She muttered to herself before she saw you moving to the lounge, the couch turning into a beautiful pull-out rather than a crappy motel one, with sheets already fitted.

“There’s pillows and blankets in there.” You pointed to a cabinet underneath the staircase.

“Will I find a little boy in there too?” Natasha quipped, making you chuckle.

“Hopefully not. I’m going to go to bed now, so make yourself comfortable.” You murmured.

She listened as you made your way upstairs, shuffled into bed and began to breathe evenly. Natasha smiled to herself and set up her bed just how she liked it before falling asleep herself.

Yet, her mind did not give her the same peace yours did.

A few hours later, she jolted out of the bed, her fleeting memory of the dream having Hulk’s hand smack her across the face - which would have happened fourteen hours ago had Thor not intervened.

She shook in her bed as the sweat from the night had made her sheets ice cold, debating to turn the fireplace on before she remembered - her hands had warmed almost instantaneously on your skin a few hours ago.

What if…?

Her feet pattered against the stairs bolted into the wall and she found you sleeping peacefully with your sheets wrapped around you. As she moved to stand at the foot of your bed, she could almost feel the warmth radiating off of you.

“Y/N…” She muttered, just loud enough to stir you and open your eyes.

“Nat?” You murmured.

“I… I had a bad dream about today. And now my sheets are freezing.” She excused, her hands fidgeting.

You frowned softly before shaking your head and opening the cocoon around you, expelling a wave of warmth over Natasha that pushed her over the edge of temptation. She climbed into the bed and sighed happily at the warmth, surprised when you wrapped your arms around her.

“Nightmares are not fun.” You whispered, holding her close but not tight.

She nodded and leaned her head onto your shoulder, almost nuzzling into you like a cat, trying to soak up your warmth. “Mm-mm.”

She could hear you falling asleep before she moved her hands back underneath your shirt, surprised to feel only the line of your underwear. “No pants? My my, how you tempt me.”

“Don’t make me kick you out, pervy.” You warned her playfully.

She chuckled and shook her head, intertwining her legs with yours. She sighed, beginning to fall asleep herself.

“Thank you for today.”

You hummed quietly and kissed the skin of her neck. “You’re welcome, bambina. Now sleep. Your concussion needs it.”

She nodded, a small blush on her cheeks at the feeling of your lips on her skin and the nickname again. “Okay. Goodnight, malysh.”

“Goodnight, Natty.”

Well, that one was new.

#smalls words #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst

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