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thelittleliars · 22 days

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Detecting Love

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: A person with the power to detect lies meets the spy who has been trained to lie her entire life.

Warnings: fluff, light angst

Words: 6169

You have the power to detect lies.

Now, it’s not exactly strong enough to be a hero, but you can honestly say that it has been useful in your life.

Sure, it gets annoying at times, but one of the many lessons you’ve learned is to ignore minor instances of dishonesty — white lies or small things like that — since it helps reduce unnecessary confusion or chaos with others.

People lie. That is an undeniable fact of life.

And while one may believe that being able to detect such things is great, the truth is there are times when you find yourself resenting your power.

Because, of course, everyone experiences moments when they wish that someone important to them isn't lying.

Like when your fiancée tells you she loves you.

There wasn’t really a malicious reason behind why a usually affectionate statement suddenly became so hurtful.

There was no cheating.

There was no fighting.

It was just another one of the many lessons you’ve learned in life.

That sometimes…a truth can also become a lie.

It’s just unfortunate that this lesson happened to you in such a way.

These kinds of moments make you wonder if maybe it’s better that people shouldn’t always know when someone is lying to them.

Then they don’t end up alone, drinking at a bar late into the night, trying to numb the pain of a broken heart.

You let out a heavy sigh as you stare at the pair of rings resting on the bar top, remembering the conversation that ended with one of them being returned to you.

It was a heart-wrenching discussion where your fiancée confessed her steadily changed feelings for you, leading to the resolution to remain friends.

And while neither of you is completely at fault for why things ended, you can’t help but blame your stupid power for putting you in the situation in the first place.

You sigh heavily once more before swiftly downing the glass the bartender had set in front of you.

At least your current attempt to drown your sorrow is going well, judging by how the rings start to blur in your vision.

With a sad sigh, you reach for the rings to put them away, but in your clumsy state, one slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor.

Just as you move to retrieve it, a hand beats you to it.

Looking up, you find a red-haired stranger standing before you, offering the ring to you with a charming smile.

She looks familiar but the drunken haze in your brain makes it hard for you to remember where you’ve seen her before.

“Here, you dropped this,” she says, her voice low and smooth.

She’s beautiful and her voice sounds perfect. You think to yourself as you take the ring from her.

She chuckles lightly, “Thanks.”

Oh, did you say that out loud? You must be more drunk than you thought.

The woman offers her hand to you in greeting, and with a confident smirk, she introduces herself.

“My name’s Natalie. Natalie Rushman.”

Immediately, a red aura surrounds her, causing you to roll your eyes and return your attention back to the bar.

“Liar,” you mutter tiredly as you gesture to the bartender to close your tab, not really in the mood to deal with any more lies tonight.

At the corner of your eyes, you see the stranger give you a slightly impressed look.

Ready to leave, you stand up quickly from your seat.

However, the action makes the room suddenly spin in your vision, causing you to stagger backward.

A hand steadies you, resting gently on your back, and you unconsciously lean back against her surprisingly strong frame for support.

There’s a soft chuckle near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Let me try again,” she whispers smoothly, guiding you upright and turning you around to face her.

Offering her hand once more, she reintroduces herself.

“My name’s Natasha Romanoff. I’m here to recruit you to work for the Avengers.”

You blink slowly, trying to comprehend her words through your drunken haze. You wonder if the alcohol is affecting you more than you thought when no red aura appears this time at her words.

Chuckling to yourself, you shake your head in disbelief, unfortunately worsening the pounding in your skull.

Work for the Avengers? That has to be a lie.

Before you can think about it any further, you feel yourself falling once more, unable to remain upright.

Strong arms catch you, and as your consciousness fades, you see a blurry glimpse of her striking green eyes before succumbing to darkness.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

You wake to the pounding in your head and the bright sunlight streaming through your window. Turning away, you groan into your pillow, remembering that your fiancée – your ex-fiancée – would typically close the curtains before leaving for work.

Now that she’s gone, you’re going to have to adjust to living alone once again.

A cup being placed on the nightstand startles you into sitting up, as you turn in surprise to find the beautiful red-haired stranger beside your bed.

“For your headache,” she explains, placing some medicine next to the cup.

Your mouth hangs open as you struggle to remember the events of last night, some of which are honestly a blur.

You examine yourself, checking your clothes and finding them unchanged from the previous night, and then you scan your surroundings again and realize in relief that nothing was out of place.

Well, except for the presence of this stranger in your home, who’s patiently waiting for you to gather yourself.

Searching through your drunken memories, you think you vaguely remember meeting her last night. She had mentioned her name was — Nata…?

“Natalie?” you ask with uncertainty.

At her raised brow, you quickly apologize, feeling bad for not remembering correctly.

“I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember, but did we…did something happen between us last night?” you ask hesitantly.

Her face twists in genuine sadness and disappointment, causing a panic to run through you as you struggle to recall what could’ve possibly happened between the two of you for her to have such an expression.

“I’m hurt,” she finally says, placing a hand on her chest, “And after you even said that it was the best night of your life.”

Seeing the familiar red aura appear around her at her words, you let out a brief sigh of relief before realization sets in, and you give her a hard glare.

“You’re lying.”

Her hurt expression quickly morphs into an impressed look, and you are slightly startled at how effortlessly she was able to shift her emotions.

The woman straightens her posture and crosses her arms, adopting a commanding stance that seems more likely her typical demeanor.

“So it’s not just luck,” she remarks, studying you curiously.

At her words, you quickly rise from your bed in confusion.

However, the action causes you to wince in pain at the pounding in your head.

Shutting your eyes tightly, you hold your head in comfort and lean lightly on the nightstand for support.

As you do, your hand brushes against yesterday’s newspaper that you had been reading moments before your ex said those fateful three words that led to the heartbreaking conversation between the two of you.

When the pain subsides, you slowly open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the front page before doing a double take.

The front features an article about the opening of the new Avenger Compound, including a photo capturing the Avenger members posed in front of the completed building.

What catches you off guard is the uncanny resemblance between one of the Avengers in the picture and the woman standing before you.

Pointing at her in disbelief, you stammer.

“You’re…,” then, gesturing at the newspaper, you continue, “…her?”

She doesn’t respond to your question but instead nods toward your other room, inviting you to follow.

“Let’s talk,” she says, heading toward your door, then gestures at the medicine on your nightstand. “But drink those first.”

After freshening up in your bathroom, you take a moment to stare at your reflection in the mirror, noticing the remnants of last night’s tears in your slightly puffy, red eyes.

Sighing, you brush away the depressing thoughts of your failed relationship before taking the medicine and exiting your room.

You are greeted by the sight of your unexpected guest comfortably seated at your kitchen counter, flipping through a magazine with casual disinterest.

“You’re Black Widow,” you say confidently this time, positioning yourself on the opposite side of her.

She closes the magazine with a snap, placing it on the table before clasping her hands atop of it and meeting your gaze.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects you, before nodding at you. “And you’re Y/n L/n.”

“How did you…?”

She holds up a wedding invitation draft, displaying you and your fiancée’s names printed in fine lettering.

Realizing that she must have been snooping around your things, you give her a disapproving glare, snatching the card from her hand and hastily stuffing it into a drawer.

Feeling a mixture of emotions—irritated, sad, hungover—you turn to the fridge, deciding to make breakfast to give yourself some focus.

After you retrieve the eggs and other ingredients, you heat the stove before glancing at Natasha briefly, asking, “So, what does an Avenger want from me?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see her resting her head against her hand, watching you with interest.

“I told you yesterday,” she replies.

You roll your eyes, giving her a deadpan look, knowing she’s aware that you don’t remember.

“Remind me again.”

Natasha gives you an amused smirk, straightening up in her seat.

“Alright, I’m here to recruit you, more specifically for a sort of managerial position at the new Avenger Compound.”

Furrowing your brows, you question, “Why me? I don't have experience with that sort of thing.”

“But you can tell when someone is lying, can’t you?”

Pausing briefly in your cooking, you contemplate her words and its possible implications. Not many people know about your ability, and you don’t think you did anything to reveal it to the spy who’s currently staring expectantly at you.

So, in response, you shrug, replying as casually as possible.

“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people…psychology degree and all.”

A silence ensues, broken only by the sizzling of your cooking, until Natasha finally nods, seemingly accepting your explanation.

You breathe a silent sigh of relief, returning your attention to your current task.

But then she pulls out a folder filled with documents and places it on the counter, causing your nerves to rise again.

“Well, you’ve helped solve hundreds of cases with your interviews of the suspects,” she remarks casually, flipping through the folder before glancing up at you through her lashes.

“100% accuracy rate in the information that you provided to the detectives,” she continues, nodding at you in acknowledgment. “For a part-time profiler, that’s impressive.”

“Thanks,” you respond with a polite smile, but beneath the surface, a hint of suspicion creeps in as you begin plating the meal you made.

Natasha closes the folder with a definitive snap, making you look at her.

“You could say it’s almost impossible,” she muses, before a confident smirk forms on her face, and she tilts her head at you with a raised brow in challenge.

“Unless there’s some way you can guarantee that they’re telling the truth.”

Honestly, you should’ve known better than to think that the experienced spy hadn’t already completed thorough research and investigations into you and your powers before meeting with you.

If anything, this was likely just a test for her to confirm what she already knows about your abilities.

Sliding a plate across the counter to Natasha with a pointed glare, you relent, deciding there’s no point in denying it anymore.

“Fine, what do you know?”

Instead of responding, Natasha’s gaze lingers on the plate before her, a hint of confusion in her expression.

Her plate holds a fluffy omelette accompanied by a side of crispy bacon and a slice of golden-brown toasted bread.

As she glances back up at you with a questioning look in her eyes, you take a seat across from her, setting down a similar plate in front of you before also placing a stack of fluffy pancakes at the center.

“What’s this?” she asks, gesturing to the meal.

“Breakfast,” you reply bluntly, taking a bite from your plate.

Natasha raises a brow at you, remarking plainly, “It’s noon.”

“Brunch then,” you correct with a roll of your eyes.

Natasha's lips quirk up in amusement, and she shakes her head.

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.”

The red aura appears around her, and with your mouth full of food, you give her a pointed glare.

“Right,” Natasha says in realization, remembering what you can do. She pulls the plate closer to her with a soft thanks.

The atmosphere that followed was unusual but surprisingly not awkward. Despite being practically strangers, you find yourself slightly comforted by Natasha’s presence.

If she wasn’t here, you probably wouldn’t have dragged yourself out of bed today after what happened yesterday.

After a moment of eating, Natasha breaks the silence.

“So, how can you tell when someone’s lying?”

Pausing to contemplate your answer, you wipe your mouth with a napkin before responding.

“Well, when someone lies, there’s always this rush of chemicals that happens in their bodies,” you explain. “It ends up causing the typical indicators — things like fidgeting, sweating, or tone changes in their voice.”

“I didn’t do any of that, yet you still knew I was lying,” Natasha points out.

“No, you're right,” you admit, nodding. “You’re a perfect liar.”

From what you have seen so far, every expression and comment of hers appears genuine and honest, and if it was anyone else, they’d probably believe anything she says.

However, thanks to your ability, you know better.

Gesturing at her, you clarify, “You still give off the same chemical reactions though, and I have the ability to see that.”

Natasha leans back in her seat, crossing her arms as she processes your explanation.

“It’s mainly visual then,” she concludes before asking curiously. “You don’t even need to hear what they said to know that they’re lying?”

You nod, ruefully adding, “Yep, my world’s just filled with people glowing red at random.”

“And how long does this ‘glow’ stay around them?”

“Depends,” you reply with a shrug. “Usually not long, maybe a few seconds.”

Natasha hums in interest, tapping her chin, her brows pinching lightly in thought.

You can’t help but smile amusedly at the sight.

For a person who has such an intimidating reputation, the spy in front of you right now looks kind of cute rather than scary.

After a moment, you break the silence this time.

“So, what’s the job?”

Natasha’s eyes focus back on you at your question.

“Nothing too complicated,” she assures. “You’ll be in charge of interviewing the new employee candidates and conducting continuous reviews of the current ones.”

“You mean like screening them?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion, already aware of the rigorous and difficult process required to work at the Avengers buildings.

“Don’t you guys already do extensive background checks before hiring people? Why do you suddenly need me?”

At your question, a charming smile appears on her face, effortlessly shifting her expression like before, though now you understand she’s just hiding her true feelings about the situation.

“That’s confidential.”

You scoff in disbelief and cross your arms.

“You do know that just makes it harder to trust you, right?”

Natasha mirrors your posture, her pretty grin still in place, masking any other emotions.

“Fair point,” she admits. “But to be honest, you should never put your trust in people like me anyway.”

“People like you?”

“Spies,” Natasha clarifies as she begins to gather her empty plate and utensils. “Which is one of the types of people you’d be looking out for in this position. Their deception skills would be on a similar level to mine.”

You chuckle at that, causing Natasha to pause in her actions, raising a brow at you in question.

“Sorry, but everyone lies, whether you’re a spy or not,” you tell her, standing and taking the empty plate from her with a small smirk. “You’re just slightly better at it.”

A tiny offended look slips through Natasha’s expression at your little jab, her brow furrowing for a brief second.

Your grin widens at the sight of seeing a glimpse of her real self as you turn to place the dirty dishes in the sink.

Natasha quickly regains her composure, moving around the counter to lean back against the table next to you.

“In any case, the decision is still yours. I’ve already confirmed your abilities. It’s up to you to decide if you want to accept.”

At her words, you pause to consider your options.

A new job working with the Avengers is a great opportunity, but it would be a significant change in your life.

Then again, you’re already facing a huge change.

Your eyes unconsciously drift to the drawer next to where Natasha is leaning, where the wedding invitation draft remains, and your face twists in sadness at the memory.

You guess it wouldn’t hurt to add a career change alongside your new relationship status.

At least this way you can still earn a salary while also distracting yourself from the depressing thoughts of your failed engagement.

“Okay,” you decide, meeting Natasha’s gaze with a sigh, “I’ll take the job.”

“Great, I knew you would be agreeable,” Natasha remarks, extending her hand to you.

A red aura appears around her, causing you to huff and roll your eyes.

You take her hand in yours, giving her a tiny glare.

“Liar.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

You say that as you dodge another swing from Natasha, ducking under her arm to get behind her, only for her to twist her body around and deliver a kick that you narrowly block with your arms.

Still, the impact has you stumbling back.

“Really?” Natasha asks with an innocent tone as she circles you. “I thought I mentioned to you that training was a part of your employment.”

A red aura begins to appear around her, but you don’t have time to comment before she swings her leg at you again.

You catch it against your side with a small grunt of pain.

Having been a profiler for criminal cases before, you do have basic defense training, and you always believed that you could hold your own against most aggressors.

At least you used to.

This current fight is making you reconsider your skills.

With her off-balance position, you attempt to throw her to the ground, but Natasha swiftly regains her footing, catching herself on her hands and executing a fluid movement to flip upright. She then bends low, sweeping your legs out from under you.

You land on the mat with a groan, feeling the impact reverberate through your body. Another pained breath escapes you as Natasha expertly pins you down.

You catch the faint red aura fading from her before throwing your head back against the mat with an exhausted sigh.

“You’re such a liar,” you breathe out, your voice tinged with both exhaustion and playful accusation. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to catch your breath.

Natasha's laughter fills the air, resonating above you, her amusement infectious and drawing a small grin from you. You peek open your eyes, watching as she disengages from atop you and heads over to her water bottle at the side.

“I’m a spy. It comes with the job,” she says casually, taking a sip.

“Okay, and I’m basically just HR,” you counter, pulling yourself upright into a sitting position. “So how does combat training fit into that?”

Natasha gestures towards you with a sweep of her hand.

“You need to be prepared to defend yourself if you ever expose someone dangerous and find yourself without backup,” she explains.

“That’s unlikely considering I haven’t even encountered anyone suspicious since I started,” you remark with a sigh.

It's been a month already, and you're starting to question if your presence here is even necessary.

Before you can dwell further on your thoughts, the cold touch of a metal water bottle against your cheek startles you.

Recoiling, you look up to see Natasha holding it out to you.

Raising a brow, Natasha waves the bottle lightly in offer.

You snatch the bottle from her with a tiny glare, but she only smirks in response.

Apart from the new job, the other surprising addition to your life is your budding friendship with the Avenger.

After the whole recruiting ordeal, you honestly expected to only have passing encounters with her at the compound.

However, to your surprise, on your first day here, Natasha was the one who volunteered to give you a tour of the place, and in the days that followed, the two of you would often share coffee and chat before you had to head off to your respective jobs.

Those regular interactions with her also earned you a fearsome reputation among the other workers, which actually works out in your favor since they’re already nervous by the time you call them in for a review. This way they are more likely to slip up and reveal anything they may be hiding.

But, like you said, you haven’t found anything substantial yet.

With a heavy sigh, you pull your knees to your chest, resting your forehead against them, feeling the weight of failure bearing down on you.

Then you hear Natasha plop down beside you.

“Back when we met, you asked me why we needed you,” she begins.

Curious at her words, you turn your head slightly to glance at her, waiting for her explanation.

Natasha leans back on her hands, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as she continues to speak.

“A couple of months ago, our surveillance revealed that someone within the compound staff was plotting an attack during the opening ceremony of the new building. However, we couldn’t confirm who it was without risking exposing that we knew of their plan."

Your eyes widen in confusion at the revelation. From what you remember, the opening ceremony was a success. There hadn’t been any news of an attack that day.

“But you caught them, right?” you inquire.

“No,” Natasha responds, shaking her head before meeting your gaze. “You did.”

Surprised, you straighten up, giving her a questioning look.

Natasha offers a small smile, elaborating, “You had recently interviewed him as a suspect for another case, and in your notes, you labeled him as dangerous and untrustworthy, despite everything about him proving otherwise.”

“And you believed me?” you ask incredulously.

Natasha shrugs, “Well, I had no other leads at the time anyway.”

You scoff in exasperation at her teasing, playfully pushing her away.

She chuckles softly before adopting a more serious expression.

“Trust in your abilities, Y/n,” Natasha says with a genuine tone. “If it’s you, not finding anyone suspicious is a good thing.”

You watch her closely, waiting for the red aura to appear.

But as a couple of seconds pass and nothing changes, you tuck your forehead back against your knees, this time to hide the smile threatening to spread across your face.

“Alright, break’s over,” Natasha announces, giving your back an encouraging pat. “Let’s go again.”

You groan in reluctance, remaining in your curled-up position.

“Come on,” Natasha urges, her tone coaxing. “I’ll go easy on you this time.”

You don’t even need to look up to know the red aura is surrounding her.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“What’s this?”

Natasha's voice draws your attention away from the task of pouring cooked popcorn into a bowl.

She's sitting on your sofa, examining a small, elegant card that you had accidentally left on the table.

Widening your eyes in realization of what she’s found, you hurry over to her, but her narrowed eyes tell you that she has already read the names on the card.

“She’s inviting you to her wedding?” Natasha exclaims, disbelief coloring her tone. “It’s only been a year since your breakup, and now she’s already getting married?!”

Sighing in disappointment, you had hoped to keep this information from Natasha, who developed a strong dislike for your ex after you shared the details of your breakup during one of your girls' nights.

Placing the bowl of popcorn on the table, you take the invitation from her hand and head to the kitchen, intending to tuck it away in a drawer.

As you slide it open, you catch the sight of the old wedding draft buried at the bottom, which causes a tiny pang of sadness in your chest at the memory of that time, of how everything changed so suddenly.

You can't help but wonder how your life might have unfolded if your engagement hadn't ended.

Would you still have accepted Natasha's offer if you hadn't been seeking a distraction from your failed relationship?

“You’re not thinking about going, are you?” Natasha's voice interrupts your thoughts.

Glancing up, you notice a peculiar look in her eyes, though it quickly shifts to a neutral expression at your gaze.

After a whole year of spending time together, you could tell underneath her impassive expression that she was upset about something; though, you figured it was just outrage at the situation.

Tossing the invitation into the drawer and shutting it, you offer her a small reassuring smile before returning to your seat beside her to start the movie.

“No, of course not,” you tell her.

As the opening scenes play, you maintain a normal, nonchalant expression, aware of Natasha's gaze still lingering on you even as the red aura fades from around your body.

After a while, Natasha huffs in disbelief before finally settling into the sofa, pulling the bowl of popcorn into her lap.

“You better be sharing that, Romanoff,” you tease, your eyes fixed on the screen.

Natasha scoffs before tossing a piece of popcorn at you.

“Of course, I will.”

Just as you're about to turn your head to look at her and confirm her honesty, she swiftly shoves a cushion pillow to the side of your face, blocking your view.

After a few seconds, she releases it, fluffing the cushion casually before leaning her head against your shoulder and tossing another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

You chuckle at her antics, amused by her playful behavior, before returning your attention to the screen.

A few days later, you find yourself standing on the outskirts of the wedding area, observing as servers and workers hustle to complete the finishing touches.

A sad, bittersweet expression tugs at your lips as you recognize familiar details chosen by your ex, mingled with hints of a stranger’s preferences in the decorations.

To be honest, you don’t intend to stay for the wedding. You're just here to confirm something for yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, conjuring your ex’s face in your mind, and whisper to yourself.

“I’m in love with her…”

Opening your eyes, you exhale slowly, a content smile on your lips as you notice the red aura surrounding your skin. It's a relief to be able to find closure regarding your feelings for your ex.

“You know, I don’t need powers to know you were lying,” a voice remarks from behind.

Startled, you turn to find Natasha approaching.

She stops beside you, her gaze fixed at the scene ahead as she accuses, “Saying that you weren’t going to come here.”

You look at her briefly before returning your attention to the field.

“I got curious about something,” you admit. “Figured that this was one way to confirm it.”

Excited and happy chatter fills the air as your ex appears, surrounded by friends and family.

Suddenly, thoughts of what-ifs from the other night resurface, prompting you to ask out loud unconsciously before you can stop yourself.

“Do you think I should’ve just pretended that she was telling the truth at that time — when she said she loved me?” you ask Natasha. “Maybe it might’ve worked out between us if I just kept my mouth shut.”

There’s a beat of silence before Natasha finally responds, her tone tinged with wistfulness.

“From my experience,” she begins, “I can tell you that living a lie would not make you happy…no matter how much you wish for it to be true.”

You chuckle lightly, “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I am,” Natasha says confidently.

A comfortable silence falls between you as you both observe the preparations from a distance.

“She is a fool for letting you go, though,” Natasha suddenly adds, her tone casual.

You laugh softly, gently chiding her, “You can’t call the bride that on her wedding day.”

“Alright then,” Natasha concedes, turning to you. “You’re an even bigger fool for coming here by yourself.”

She returns her gaze to the field, muttering under her breath with a hint of irritation, “…still visiting the one who broke your heart.”

Amused, you tilt your head to catch her eyes, chuckling at her words, as you tease, “You know, it almost sounds like you’re jealous.”

When Natasha doesn’t respond or look at you, you raise a brow in surprise and poke her side.

“Wait, seriously, are you jealous?”

She swats your hand away.

“Stop that,” Natasha reprimands, before gritting out, “I’m not jealous!”

A small grin forms on your face as you notice the red aura appear, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and walk away.

“I’m leaving,” she declares firmly.

“Aww, come on, Natasha,” you call as you trail behind her.

Glancing back at you and seeing your pleased expression, she points at you in warning.

“That smile better be off your face by the time I pull up, or else you’re walking home,” she states before continuing on her way.

Watching her go with a fond smile, you find yourself softly repeating the words.

“I’m in love with her.”

Looking down, your smile widens when you don’t see the red aura appear, confirming what you already knew about your feelings for the red-haired spy.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

As you sit in your office at the Avenger compound, you feel a sense of fatigue wash over you at your busy schedule of back-to-back interviews.

Across from you, the final candidate squirms in her seat, clearly nervous under your scrutinizing gaze.

A chill sweeps through the room, courtesy of the cold blast of air from the AC, and you can't help but regret your decision to have it set so cold, a choice originally intended to maintain an intimidating atmosphere during interviews.

With a sigh, you reluctantly pull your hands from the cozy warmth of your hoodie pocket and turn to the next page of questions.

"Let's talk about handling confidential information," you begin, your voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Can you share a time when you had to ensure the secure handling of sensitive data?"

The candidate responds with some slight hesitation, but you sense it’s more from her nerves than any dishonesty, so you continue, moving on to the remaining questions.

Luckily, the rest of the interview goes by quickly and smoothly with her answering the other questions without any problems.

However, now comes the final question of the interview.

“Among the Avengers, who do you consider to be the hottest?”

Clearly caught off-guard, she stumbles over her words, “W-what?”

Maintaining your serious demeanor, you repeat the question.

“Who do you believe is the hottest Avenger?”

After a moment's pause, she softly answers, “Black Widow..."

Setting your clipboard down, you extend your hand.

"Thank you for coming. It was nice meeting you," you say, signaling the end of the interview.

As she thanks you and leaves, you flip to the last paper on your clipboard, revealing a sheet with tick marks beside the names of your Avenger friends.

With an amused smile, you add another mark at the end of Natasha’s already leading line.

“I don’t think that last question was approved by Steve,” a voice accuses from the doorway.

Glancing up, you see Natasha leaning against the frame, her arms folded.

You shrug in response, “Makes it more interesting though.”

Natasha hums curiously before moving to your side, perching on the edge of your desk. Her narrowed eyes fix on you.

“Is that my hoodie?” she asks in suspicion as she tugs at your sleeve.

“Maybe,” you reply, hastily pulling the hood over your head to conceal your guilty eyes.

Natasha had left the piece of clothing at your place after her last visit, and given the chilly room, borrowing it seemed harmless enough.

“Don’t you have a briefing to get to?” you deflect, attempting to change the subject.

Natasha huffs knowingly before responding, "I had some spare time, so I came to bother you."

"I’m honored," you quip sarcastically, though inwardly your heart warmed at the fact that she thought of you.

Natasha chuckles lightly, then gestures towards your clipboard.

"Ask me some questions," she prompts, her tone playful yet eager.

Deciding to indulge her, you reach for your clipboard and adopt a serious demeanor.

“Name?” you begin.

Natasha shoots you a deadpan look, prompting you to show her the document with the question written on it.

“If they lie about their name, then that’s a red flag already,” you defend, giving her a pointed look.

“Natalie,” you mock.

Natasha chuckles, shaking her head at the memory before extending her hand.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects, playing along.

Skipping past the other general questions, you delve into more targeted inquiries related to threat assessment.

“Have you ever been associated with any extremist or radical groups or organizations?” you ask.

“If you consider working undercover to gain intel on them, then yes,” Natasha responds without hesitation.

“Have you ever participated or been involved in any violent behavior where someone was hurt?”

This one makes her pause for a moment before she finally admits softly, "…yes."

As the questioning continues, Natasha's playful demeanor gradually fades, replaced by a rueful tone.

By the time you reach the final question, she places her hand on your clipboard, gently setting it down on the desk.

"Maybe these questions aren’t meant for people like me," she says sadly, her tone filled with regret.

Observing her disappointed expression, you scoot closer and rest your hand on hers to draw her attention.

“Do you still want to hear my final assessment?” you ask gently.

After a contemplative pause, Natasha nods, curiosity evident in her eyes as she gestures for you to continue.

“Well, based on your answers,” you say with a dramatic pause, flipping through the papers before shaking your head firmly.

“Absolutely not. Extremely dangerous. Definitely a high-risk candidate.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief at your teasing and gives you a playful push. As your laughter subsides, you soften your tone, meeting her gaze sincerely.

“But…I’d trust you,” you admit genuinely.

Natasha's eyes widen slightly before she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. Her fingers toy with the clipboard, flipping to the last page and seeing the score sheet, before chuckling in amusement.

Turning back to you, she tilts her head with a raised brow.

“I don’t get the special question?” she asks.

You take the clipboard from her, offering a knowing look as you begin to organize the documents on your desk.

“I think we both already know your answer to that question,” you reply.

“Then ask me another,” Natasha insists.

Her request makes you pause as you ponder what to ask. Only one thing comes to mind, the question you’ve been hesitating to ask her for a long time.

Meeting her expectant gaze, you find yourself wanting to know the answer, despite the fear in your mind at the possibility of causing another big change in your life again.

Summoning your courage, you face her directly.

“Would you…,” you start, faltering momentarily before gathering yourself with a deep breath.

“...would you say ‘yes’ if I asked you out on a date tonight?”

There's a moment of silence, and just as you consider retracting the question, Natasha reaches out and adjusts the hood atop your head.

Perplexed by her action, you watch her suspiciously. Then, in one swift motion, she pulls the hood down over your eyes, obscuring your vision.

“No,” her voice responds to your question.

Hearing her stand, you quickly remove the hood to see Natasha already making her way out of the door, but before she disappears from your view, you catch the red aura surrounding her slowly fading away.

As an excited smile spreads across your face at the revelation of her true answer, your phone on the desk pings with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from Natasha.

I’ll pick you up tonight.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Thank you for reading! I know I said I was going to take a little break, but I had some time so I ended up finishing this and decided to post it now instead of later.

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thelittleliars · 24 days

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I LOVE THIS SO FREAKING MUCH 🥹

GIVE ME WHAT THEY HAVE PLS

𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙬𝙡 | n.romanoff

pairing; natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary; after having a restless night, you decide to head to natasha's room to relax and watch a film with her.

characters; friday and liho.

warnings; pure fluff, cheesy (near the end), (sort of) established relationship, nat's a bit of a james bond nerd (sorry not sorry), i waffled on (may re-edit it later), r is ticklish.

my notes; i love the fact she memorises the dialogue to the james bond films (she's so real for that). credit to the owner of the prompt, (i got it from a generator). also it's my birthday!!

2.6k

3:36 am.

Deep silver pools of moonlight gently cascaded through the thick curtains, blocking out the silver star-ridden sky gleaming down on the deserted streets.

The night was still. Not a single soul was awake for miles on end; it felt as if the world slept to the everlasting stretch of silence coating the streets of New York like a pearly blanket of snow.

The Avengers Tower carried such a serene atmosphere that if someone were to drop a single pin, those living in the tower would hear the minute-clattering noise it made upon impact.

Those are often the best kinds of nights.

Tonight, unfortunately, was not one of those peaceful nights. Not for you and not for several other earth-saving heroes (it’s hardly surprising given that some of them have insomnia).

Tonight was one of those rare nights that dragged on continuously; the seconds turned into minutes and the minutes into hours. The longer time ticked on, the more you gradually grew restless.

The only noise that floods your bedroom is the rustling sound of the bed sheets as you toss and turn for the umpteenth time in the hour alone. Right left, left right. No spot was comfortable enough to fall asleep.

Whatever direction you find yourself in, it feels like you are lying on a large slab of rock rather than the usual soft cloud. There weren’t many thoughts occupying your mind at this hour, but for some reason, your mind was completely wired, which prevented you from sleeping.

With a quiet and exasperated scoff, you push yourself up into a sitting position, causing the blankets you were wrapped in to drop from around your body. You shiver at the sudden coldness of the night’s air seeping into your body.

Someone turned the thermostat on the floor down again. She has a habit of doing that.

Everything goes dead silent. There is no sound of rustling bedsheets, no distant police or ambulance sirens, just pure silence.

Your eyes wearily glance around your bedroom so you can soak in the pale moonlight, tinting your belongings with a gentle glow. Your hands gently rub against your bleary eyes before they rise to smooth out your messy strands of hair.

“Friday?” You call out to the AI, expecting an immediate response. You let out a soft yawn.

“Yes, Miss L/n?” Her familiar and cheerful Irish voice answers your call immediately. Just as expected.

“What time is it?”

“Currently, it’s 3:36 am, Miss. You’ve been tossing and turning for over an hour; is there anything I can do to help?”

“Uh, no, thank you, Friday.” You quietly reply, just as another yawn falls from your lips. You peel back the duvet. “Is anyone else awake?”

“Miss Romanoff and Mr Stark are currently the only ones awake.” She informs before going silent until her name is addressed again. You murmur a soft ‘thank you’.

It wasn’t surprising that those two were the only ones awake in the tower—besides you. Natasha has always been a night owl; Tony is one of those who have insomnia. They’re usually up taking in the silence while doing their things.

You need to kill time fast.

You could open your laptop and start scrolling through Netflix to watch a film or series, to take your mind off things until you fall asleep; even the thought of scrolling through seems tedious.

Too tedious for this hour, you think to yourself.

Another option includes sneaking down to the training facility to get a few extra hours of training under your belt; the thought of being sore and sweaty had your face scrunching in disgust. Most certainly not.

Maybe you’ll go and keep Natasha company for a little while.

You swing your legs out of the duvet and off the bed so your feet can touch the cold floorboard under your bed. A slow shiver rolls down your spine as you rise to your feet with an exhausted sigh.

You slowly wander away from your bed and across your bedroom, so you can quietly swing open the door and make your way out. You sluggishly walk down and across the hall, where Natasha’s room is.

From outside her room, you could just about make out the sounds of her TV playing at a low volume, which is presumably done not to wake you. Even late at night, she’s still thoughtful.

You silently thank Tony for putting you and Natasha on the same floor and that she was in her room tonight, not wandering around or in the training facility to relieve her tension (which she has a habit of doing).

You notice the fact—as you get closer and closer—that her door was open just enough to let the soft, warm glow from her bedside light trickle out from the crack. It paints a section of the floor beneath your feet amber.

“Nat?” You whisper as you poke your head through the crack between the door and the white-painted door frame. “Is it okay if I come in?”

You push the door open a little wider to catch the perfect glimpse of her. She looks peaceful and content with the silence while she watches another James Bond film.

She was sprawled across her bed—with her red hair splayed across her pillow—as she silently mouthed along to the dialogue of the 007 film. If you’re not mistaken, she’s watching ‘From Russia With Love’.

It’s like she’s seen the film franchise way too many times to count; she probably has seen them all so many times. You wouldn’t blame her if she did.

The second her emerald gaze finds your weary one, her lips curl into a warm and inviting smile. She pauses for a minute or two before scooting over—to make enough room for you—while pulling back the duvet and patting the bed.

An invitation to join her in watching her film, or knowing her, a marathon. An invitation that you gladly accept.

“What are you doing up this late, detka?” She coos as you remain by the door frame for a few minutes longer. “It’s unlike you to be up this late; is something on your mind?”

You shake your head as you wearily make your way over to the bed. You intended to climb in to watch the remaining half of the film with her like you’ve done many times before.

Standing by the doorway for so long meant that you didn’t initially notice the ball of black fur curled up on her other pillow (plus it was dark), so you were pleasantly surprised to see the other guest as you reached her bed.

Liho.

Natasha swears that Liho isn’t her cat, and she’s nothing more than a stray who loves following her around; you know otherwise.

“Hey, Liho, do you mind giving up the pillow?” You whisper to the cat before leaning over to scratch behind her ear, making her purr quietly. You turn to Natasha with an amused look.

“Don’t,” she says sternly while focusing on the screen.

“I thought she wasn’t allowed on your bed.”

“She’s not,” she replies as she glances over at the black cat, who looks happy where she is. “Someone keeps letting her in. I bet it’s Bucky; y’know how he is with Alpine.”

You chuckle to yourself before scooping the cat up and practically sinking into the softness of her mattress and duvet. You let out a peaceful sigh as you could feel your muscles relaxing, and Liho nuzzled her head against you.

“She’s not that bad, y’know. She’s sweet.”

“Mhm, you didn’t answer my question from earlier. Is something on your mind?”

“No,” you mumble as she shuffles so she is close enough to encase her arms around your torso. “I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t mean to interrupt your film. Is this your first James Bond film of the night?”

The back of your thighs was touching hers, and your back was pressed firmly into her chest. Her grip around your waist was gentle, while her fingertips brushed over your hip in a soothing circular motion.

“No,” she quietly replies. “Second.”

Natasha’s soothing motion against your hip had you mirroring the motion onto Liho’s head (behind her ears). Liho’s purrs grew louder, which made you smile softly.

At this point, it was almost second nature for her to pull you as close to her as possible while her hands rested somewhere on your body (usually on your back or hip). It’s like an instinct for her.

“Chronological order, Nat?”

“Mhm,” she hums while lifting her fingers from your hip to absentmindedly run them lightly up and down your forearm. They feel cold against your warm skin. “I just finished watching Dr. No.”

“Is that the one with Sean Connery or Roger Moore?” You ask, already knowing the answer yourself.

Honestly, you just wanted to hear her enthusiastically talk about it. Her quiet excitement about certain things has you falling even deeper in love with her, which seems impossible to do.

At the same time, you want to tease her so badly. Tease her for being so sweet and slightly nerdy.

It’s not the smartest idea to tease an assassin about how sweet and nerdy she is when she talks about certain things. No, you wouldn’t wake up the next day, so it’s best to keep the thought to yourself.

“Sean Connery, detka,” she replied to your question with a soft chuckle. “Moonraker is one of Roger Moore’s films, which is a good film too.”

You let out a quiet ‘ah’ sound before shuffling in closer to her—if possible—to bask in the warmth she was still radiating. It’s relaxing, even soothing.

“Have I-”

“Yeah, you’ve watched Moonraker with me.”

Hm. You didn’t need to get the words out for her to know what you were about to say.

“I never did ask why you were up so late, Nat,” you whisper as you weaken your grip on Liho, who is asleep. “But I’m going to assume that the mission you just came back from is messing with you.”

She lets out a small sigh. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

Missions aren’t always easy; sometimes they can go pear-shaped to the point where they're compromised. You’ve been on many missions that have gone off the tracks, but every single time you’ve dealt with them head-on.

“Put it out of your mind,” you whisper as you tilt your head upward to catch her softened and tired gaze. “That was one day; tomorrow is another.”

“Alright, Miss Wisdom, that’s enough for one night,” she lightly teases as she looks down at you for a fleeting minute before looking back at the screen.

You weren’t following along with the story in the slightest. You don’t have much interest in watching James Bond at this hour; you are too busy enjoying her warmth as she gently holds onto you as if you were delicate.

You remain silent in her arms while she occasionally nuzzles her nose into your hair for that extra stretch of comfort and reassurance that she’s not alone. She’ll never be alone.

“He wouldn’t be able to do that,” she grumbles, clearly unamused. Ah, there’s the habit that you love and hate. “He’d kill himself right away.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing, detka,” she murmurs before quickly kissing your hair while inhaling the scent of your shampoo. “I’m just talking to myself.”

Anyone who knows her well enough should know that Natasha tends to correct any inaccuracies in spy films. Half of the time, she doesn’t even realise she’s doing it, so it’s almost like it's an instinct for her to correct the character’s mistakes.

While it’s very endearing to see her so invested in something, it can get annoying. Yelena has the same habit as Natasha, making it harder to watch spy films with either of them.

“You know, you and Yelena have the same habit,” you whisper as you drag your hand down the cat’s back before she climbs out of your arms.

“Oh yeah?” Natasha replies as she watches the screen before looking down at you. She’s smiling lovingly. “And what habit would that be, detka?”

“You both love pointing out and correcting any inaccuracies in spy films.”

“I do not do that,” Natasha denies, even though there is a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Oh, you don’t? Because, if I recall correctly, you just said ‘he wouldn’t be able to do that’. It sounds like pointing out to me, Nat.” You tease before squealing as she gently digs her fingers into your hips.

In one swift move, she is hovering over you with one hand by your head to hold herself up while her other is wiggling at your side. If there’s one sound Natasha loves more than your voice, it's the sound of your pure, unbridled laughter.

“Nat! Stop!” You squeal out as your hands reach up to her forearms to try and get her to stop attacking your sides. She doesn’t stop; she smiles at you with a loving gaze.

“I’ll only stop if you admit that I don’t have a habit of doing that,” she says in a slightly proud tone. “Yelena might, but I certainly don’t.”

“Okay, okay,” you say before holding your hands up like a truce. “You don’t do that.”

She grins triumphantly before lifting her hand and placing it on the other side of your head so she can get a better view of you and how red you’ve gone from laughing.

“Neither of you can go a single film without pointing a mistake out for the rest to see,” you say quickly, causing her to roll her eyes and pepper kisses all over your cheeks.

“Ugh, fine,” she grits out in between each kiss she lays on your cheeks. “Maybe I do. Okay, I correct and point out mistakes in spy films; it’s not my fault they are often inaccurate.”

“Alright, we’ll agree to disagree. C’mere.”

Natasha doesn’t waste any time when it comes to sinking back into her mattress behind you. She snakes her arms around your waist before pulling you flush against her chest, like before she started tickling you.

The last thing that Natasha is focused on is what Sean Connery’s Bond is doing or saying on the TV screen. No, she’s focused on how your nose scrunches as you yawn softly or on your weary smile.

It is pretty late, so she wouldn’t blame you if you fell asleep in her arms. She wants you to, selfishly, because she loves it.

“Sleep, detka,” she coos softly in your ear before pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere; you’re safe with me.”

“I always am,” you whisper before sighing contently after yawning for the second time in a minute. “I just want to stay up and talk with you. Or at least finish watching your film with you.”

“We can talk more in the morning; just close your eyes.”

Her thumb softly dragged your knuckles back and forth due to your hands being laced together, while her other hand softly drew circles into your exposed arm. So soothing.

Put both of those together, and you’re on the verge of sleep.

It wasn’t long before you were quietly snoring while nestled in her protective embrace. Natasha stayed awake a little longer to soak up your gentle sounds mixed with Liho’s content purrs.

The mischievous cat was back laying on her pillow, despite not being allowed anywhere on her bed.

Nothing mattered as the world stood still as she gazed lovingly at her girls.

You and Liho are her girls (even if she’d never admit the cat was hers; everyone knows Liho is her cat). She likes how it rolls off the tongue.

“I love you,” she whispers as she presses a feather-light kiss to your cheeks as you sleep. Her eyes drifted closed. “More than you’ll ever know.”

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thelittleliars · 2 months

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Thank you to everyone who got me to 10000 likes! 💚

#10000 likes #tumblr milestone #thank you

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thelittleliars · 2 months

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(1) running into you | competing series

hockey coach!wanda x fem!ex figure skater reader

tw: creepy man hits on r, flirting (r and w), mentions to past injury (r), some mommy issues mentioned whoops, the nephew’s name is Tyler (💀)

a/n: not proofread oopsies. DON’T steal/repost my works. anyways enjoy this piece of shit. I’ll come back and edit this later.

It’s a transition going from spending every minute in the rink to living vicariously through your nephew’s newfound interest in the ice. You’ve been taking him to lessons since his parents, your brother, has had to work every minute to make a decent living.

Seeing an ice rink after two years was strangely nostalgic. Spending every waking hour here until you’d gone and screwed your leg during practice.

You would’ve been better off without your coach at the time, your mom, yelling in your ear to get up. It’s in the past and you’re hoping it stays there.

Your nephew was about young teen, unfortunately a stereotypical teen boy who played sports. He was a good kid, but too confident for his own good and feeling the need to size up other players.

The coach of the team had been running them through drills. They were mainly on how to skate and learning specific techniques for hockey such as stopping quickly. He was picking it up quick, again too confident in his efforts but it did get him somewhere.

“Who’s yours?”

You faced the man beside you, “I’m sorry?”

He pointed, waving his finger around and it clicked for you. You waved him off, saying you were here for your nephew.

“Is he your sister’s? Your brother’s?”

“My brother’s. He’s thirteen.”

“And picking it up now? That’s a bit late.”

You laugh, “what?”

The man shrugs and leans back, “he may not be able to make varsity. I mean look.”

The frustration burned through you, feeling annoyed at his audacity. You begin to grab your stuff and move down the bleachers.

“These are kids, and they can do it as a social pastime. I did figure skating and I made it into the region competitions. I was thirteen.”

The man scoffs, “I’m talking about the young boy here and an actual sport, not twirling on the ice. I mean you didn’t go far if you’re here on a Monday night.”

With a shake of your head, you leave and officially move away to the other set of bleachers, closer to where the players got off the ice. It was surprising how aggressive some parents were with their kids doing a sport. It concerned you how concerned they were with their kid succeeding in a sport they once did.

You had sat near the railing towards the bottom, resting your head on it. There was an attempt made to forget your coursing adrenaline, watching your nephew work on sliding across the ice.

It was futile, especially with the way the man was holding his stare in your direction. Whatever his problem was, you wanted nothing to do with it. Men were weird, especially when they’re under some sort of influence.

The group huddled together in the rink, the words being spoken echoed throughout the room. The only word you understood was when they announced their team chant.

You waved back at your nephew when he skated by the window, mouthing something about, “watching him.” It was practice time, where they’re given ten minutes to skate around and practice what they learned.

He flailed around but he still got up proud, acting as if his stop and falling onto the ground was meant to happen. It was amusing, but entertaining and failed for you to realize the man was walking near you yet again.

“Hey ma’am, sorry for the inconvenience. I just thought you were quite beautiful.”

You cringe, “being mean is your flirting technique?”

“Usually chicks dig it.”

You nod and look back to your nephew but he’s relentless and doesn’t want to take no for an answer, even stepping closer to you.

“You alright here miss?”

A woman in skates appeared near you two. She was adjusting the heavy coat around her shoulders, moving to take it off with the obvious sweat on around her face and neck.

The man speaks for you, “we’re fine.”

She raises her eyebrow and tosses the coat onto the bleachers, eyes slowly looking to you for confirmation. You move away from the man and it was enough confirmation.

“Hey buddy, she’s not interested. There’s plenty of fish in the sea but a woman twenty years younger than you isn’t the move.”

With a patronizing smile and wave he began to yell at his son to leave. You thanked her, moving to do the same when she stopped you.

“Who’re you here for?”

“Tyler, what’re you here for?”

She looks confused for a moment, making a subtle gesture towards the skates on her feet, “I’m the coach.”

You swear you feel your confidence melt into a puddle. How long have you been taking him to practices and you’ve never cared to greet the coach?

“I’m terrible sorry,” you put your hand out to shake hers, “I should have introduced myself when I had begun to take him to practice. It’s nice to meet you.”

She smiles and pushes your hand away, “no need. How’re you feeling though, need someone to walk you to your car?”

“That’s quite alright, I believe I’ll be fine.”

Your nephew exits the rink then, coming to sit near you two and untie his skates. He either didn’t notice you two conversing or he didn’t care, because he had come barreling in. You take his helmet off, reminding him to not forget his bag in the locker room.

“You did a great job today, Tyler, how’re you feeling about your stops now?”

“I’m definitely better. I think I’m better than Micah too, he slides into the walls. Man has no clue on how to slide.”

She hums, “then I’ll see you tomorrow. Night.”

He waved and begins to walk behind the bleachers towards the locker room, and she looks back to you.

“I could stand at the door and make sure you two get to your car? I can see him standing at the tables looking this way. My word, is he drunk or something?”

You look and find him standing outside by himself and accept her assistance. It wasn’t that you necessarily trusted her, but she was more trustworthy than the other.

She grabs her coat and stuff on the seat, ready to go just as Tyler had ran out from the locker rooms. He smelt terrible and for some reason felt the need to stand where his sweat melted onto your skin.

“Maximoff what drills are we doing tomorrow?”

She looks relaxed, her eyes focused on him and tone kind while it feels your nerves are spiking when you see the man in your peripheral vision. He doesn’t seem to pay you any mind anymore, he looked distant while his son finished packing up.

“Okay, I’m heading off. Have a good night you two,” she looks to one more time, and you mouth your thanks. She jerks her car door open, throwing her stuff in and climbing in after.

“I love Maximoff. She’s a great coach, very professional if I could add.”

You shove him into the car, and start driving out of the parking lot. It’s fun to watch someone gain traction in a sport and see how much they enjoy learning the next steps to getting better.

“Are you staying for dinner tonight?”

“I am. Your parents aren’t getting back until later tonight, so I’m staying over tonight. Anything you want to do?”

He doesn’t seem very interested in anything you suggest, wanting to go to bed right after you both have dinner. And it’s understandable.

He had gone to bed four hours before his parents had finally begun to come home, your brother being the first home. He found you on the coach, “hey, how’re you?”

“It’s swell. I got hit on at the rink, but other than that it’s fine. Tyler’s asleep now.”

“You got hit on at the rink?”

“Opened with insults and everything.”

He empties his water bottle, his voice slightly muffled from where he was in the house, “are you okay with continuing to bring him to practice? I feel bad enough as it is. We can’t thank you enough.”

“No it’s fine. It was just sudden. I enjoy being able to see you all often,” you dangle your keys, “I’m going to head back to my apartment, I unfortunately have work tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow, get home safe. Maybe tomorrow we can all eat dinner this weekend, we’d like to catch up”

“I’d love to. Sleep well, goodnight,” you wave before shutting the door behind you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ✧ ⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Tyler,” you say while finishing tying his skates, “I don’t want you to hang around Josh anymore okay? He’s a terrible influence.“

“But he’s the second best. At least he isn’t sliding into the walls.”

“I mean his personally is shit, just focus on learning the fundamentals and talk with the others.”

“Isn’t that a bad word—”

“Just get on the ice.”

He puts his hands up in offense and stumbles into the rink. You wipe your hands on your pants, “I swear—“

“That you do,” she comes beside you.

She sets her bags down beside you, leaning her shoulder against the wall. Your attention follows her fingers, a part of you hating the way she’s tying her skates. The other part got caught judging from the expression on her face.

“Are you judging how I tie my skates?”

You get slightly flustered, apologizing and fearing you’ve made her uncomfortable but all it does is grow the smile that was already there.

“Should be sorry unless you have a valid reason.”

“I figure skated,” you blurt and she looks amused.

“Do you still skate?”

“Not anymore after an injury my junior year.”

She looks earnest in her apology. In a response to not spiral you laugh it off.

“I bet it’s painful to realize you won’t be able to enjoy your passion again, but you’re here supporting him.”

“It’s not the end of the world, but it’s disappointing,” you laugh, “And of course, Tyler loves hockey. Especially when he has a coach like you.”

She leans to grab her coat, “what’s special about me?”

It’s something you’re still learning. That being how you have a knack for being flirty when you aren’t usually meaning to. In this moment though? You don’t mind.

You smile cruelly, “it’s 2:00.”

She checks her watch for confirmation and dramatically steps back onto the ice with a sigh. You feel your heart race from within your chest at the look she gave you after.

It felt like you were being called out. Her attention was on you before and after each practice. You enjoyed familiarizing yourself with your nephew’s coach (you were flirting). It would make sense to leave everything where it was, but you didn’t want to.

You learned it was more than a simple surface friendship with your nephew’s coach when she slipped her number into your back pocket. And maybe the details on there that she wanted to take you out that Saturday at 8.

masterlist | next chap.

tags

@xxxtwilightaxelxxx @emiliaisdead

@esposadejoyhuerta @shinysuitcloud

@xxsekhmet @casquinhaa @r0manxff

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thelittleliars · 2 months

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Surprise

Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Warnings: fighting, being drunk, mention of homophobia, mention of deceased parents, angst with a happy end

Words: 3.5k

Summary: You wanted to surprise your girlfriend but instead you were the one that got surprised.

A/N: Here it is: the Angst with a happy ending one shot as the majority of you voted for! Btw I did not proof read it so be aware.

Flying wasn't your thing; sitting for hours in a thing that is high in the air with nothing to do but to sleep, eat, watch or read something. And airplane was a capsule of boredom to you, that was why you'd never fly unless you had to. Unfortunately you had to fly for your job since it required you to fly overseas from time to time. This time you had a 15 hour flight back home, itching to not only to see your girlfriend Natasha but also to surprise her, your supposed flight was scheduled for only three days later and when you were given the go to fly back earlier you took the chance and told her nothing about it. You hadn't seen her in weeks so you were extra excited to see her again.

The uber stopped in front of your apartment complex, as you got your things out of the trunk you thanked them for the pleasant ride and wished them a good day. You were quick to arrive at your door, the apartment was one on the top floors, before unlocking it with the your key. The smile on your face vanished when you saw Natasha standing there with three people you had never met before. Your mood became a little sour as you didn't like that your surprise didn't go as you had planned. "Who are you?" You asked confused as nobody including your girlfriend made a move to introduce each other.

They stared at you with critical eyes, sizing you up and down as if you were a criminal or some other threat. The younger woman with blonde hair spoke up first. "Her family." Your heart stilled for a second thinking of meeting her family like this wasn't great but you dismissed everything quickly because you remembered that her family was dead. "No, that can't be. Her family died when she was young." You looked confused at Nat, then back at those strangers again. When nobody responded you got a bit anxious, Natasha wouldn't have lied about that right?

The man spoke up next, bringing you out of your head of spiraling thoughts. "Who are you?" But before you could answer that question happily, the other woman gave her thoughts to the situation. "She's most likely the roommate Natasha always talked about." Roommate. You whirled your head towards your red headed lover, looking baffled at her already guilty expression, pain appeared in your heart and you swore that nothing cut you as deep as the statement along with her silence and facial expression. You pursed your lips to hide how much she hurt you, it would be too embarrassing to throw a fit in front of her family. Natasha opened her mouth but before she got to speak you jumped in. "I just had a 15 hour flight and all I wanna do is take a shower and maybe a nap afterwards. I guess I see y'all later." You said to all of them before you fetched your suitcase and disappeared into the actual guest room that the two of you had for emergencies.

In the shower you sat down and let the water fall onto you. You overthought everything you thought you knew. It was obvious that it was her family, she lied about her parent dying. Why would she do that? And if she lied about that what else did she lie about? Evidently about your relationship. The roommate Natasha constantly talked about.. That statement hurt immensely. You couldn't understand why were a roommate, not even a very good friend no, just a fucking roommate. It made you angry, especially because you loved that woman deeply and it made you wonder if she actually loved you. You also deliberate about if you could ever forgive her about this betrayal.

After the long shower, your phone started ringing the second your t-shirt hit you body. It was strange for someone to call you at this hour but when you saw it was your friend Wanda you answered without a question. You couldn't get a hello out because she was talking fast. "Open your door, there's a surprise for you!" The excitement in her voice was refreshing after all the work talk you had done overseas for days. "Wands, I don't like surprises."

"I know and I'm sorry to do this to you but this one's really worth it. Please believe me and don't hang up!" You tried to put all the faith you had left in her and walked out of the guest room as held your phone against your ear. "I won't hang up don't worry." While you passed by the open kitchen-living room to get to the door, you felt the red head's and her family's intense eyes on you. You ignore them as you opened the door and there she stood, the great Wanda Maximoff with some tickets in her hands. She practically shoved them into your hands. Only then did you hang up the phone and looked at what the tickets were. Your eyes widen in shock before you threw yourself at Wanda, hugging her happily. Natasha jealously was seething so she decided to speak. "What is your ex doing here?"

You turned around smiling at her but not as bright as you had been a second before, you still waved the tickets with joy telling her what the tickets were for. "She got me tickets for a sold out Hayley Kiyoko show!!" Natasha knew how much that meant for you since you had never seen her live even though you had tickets for three concerts at one point. You hated it so much that your job always came in between the dates, making you sell your concert tickets of the singer that was your first crush and gay awakening. This whole situation gave Natasha another pang of jealousy, she should have been the one giving you the tickets, not your damn ex.

"The lesbian Jesus?" The blonde woman whose name you still don't know asked. You nodded and saw her face breaking into a proud expression. "Since when do you know that?" Natasha asked her sister in almost an insulting tone. "Kate Bishop, where else?" After Nat narrowed her eyes the blonde explained further with a shrug. "She told me that I need to widen my horizon in pop culture." At that you turned your attention back to Wanda, minding your own business while picking up your conversation again. "I- I'm.. thank you for the tickets Wands. I truly don't know how to thank you." She smiled at your overwhelmed but giddy state. "You could take me with you?" She joked as she also pointed to the tickets. You agreed to her idea incredibly fast, maybe a bit too fast considering that you had a girlfriend you usually asked and took with you to concerts. But in that split of a moment you didn't give a shit about asking her to go with you, going with your ex sounded way better. "It - it's tomorrow already. Wait, hold on. How'd you even know that I'd be back by then?"

"Oh yeah about that.. I might have talked with Josh." She smiled sheepishly. Josh was a mutual friend but also your co-worker. But you'd never have thought that Josh would talk about your (early) return. Especially since you told him you wanted to surprise everyone. "Are you lovebirds actually coming in or stay in the doorway all night?" Alexei teased you both, you didn't how how to feel about that. You were still together with his daughter and him teasing or shipping you with your ex was beyond something you thought you'd experience. The frown on Natasha face was something you didn't miss and you actually had to bite your tongue before saying something you'd regret. To your luck, because you knew biting your tongue wouldn't help for long, your lover pipped in. "They are ex-girlfriends and not lovebirds." She stated hard. Her father continued to reason with his daughter. "Doesn't have to mean anything Tasha bear. How often did your mother and I break up and got back together hmm?"

You ignored their conversation once again, turning to the red head that stood still in the doorway you told her to wait for you. "Let me switch pants and then we go get a drink somewhere yeah? That way we can catch up and they can continue having family time uninterrupted." Natasha wanted to interject, deny you going out with Wanda when she desperately wanted to explain herself but she feared that stopping you would dig her grave with you only deeper so she let you go. When you were about to leave, Yelena and Alexei teased you both a last time. You felt a bit bad for Natasha but it all were also a part of consequences of her actions. "Don't come home too late." Was the only thing she told you. You still heard Yelena's such a mom and Alexei's don't be a cockblocker Natasha through the door.

-----------------------------

You were passed out in Wanda's arms as she carried you bridal style towards your apartment. It wasn't planned that you drank this much alcohol, but once you got a taste of it you just couldn't stop, it numbed your feelings and problems that you badly wanted to forget. Natasha was at the door quick, relieved when she saw you in Wanda's arms, she lead you both towards your bedroom watching how your ex put you on the bed gently.

"Thank you for bringing her home." She commented. The other woman only nodded before leaving fairly quickly, not wanting to be there in case you woke up which she knew was unlikely but didn't want it risk it anyways. Hungover you was something she did not want to witness ever again.

The next morning was rather midday by the time you woke up. You walked into the bathroom first, quickly peeing and splashing some water on your face before wandering to the kitchen, there you saw Natasha sitting at her kitchen counter with a coffee in one hand and her phone in the other hand. "Morning." You hummed grumpily, acknowledging her without actually talking to her. She huffed before she tried to talk to you again. "Y/N I-" Natasha started but you cut her off immediately. "I don't wanna talk."

"But I really-" Her next attempt to talk got quickly cut off by you again. "I SAID I DONT WANT TO TALK NATASHA!" You didn't yell, you simply rose your voice a bit to get your point across. She shut up afterwards. "Gosh just give me space before you ruin my day. I still have a concert to attend to." Your words and the situation cut her deep, it hurt to know this side of you - that she was the reason for bringing this out of you and inflicting (you) pain. She never wanted any of this.

-----------------------------

After the incredible amazing concert you dragged Wanda into a bar to get some well deserved fries and drinks. It didn't last long until you spilled your relationship problems and some evil thoughts you had in your head. The cruelest one was to text Nat asking her if she'd give you permission to kiss another girl during Hayley's performance of Girls Like Girls. You'd never cheat but the itch to get back at her in some way for betraying you was big.

"I know you want to hurt Natasha back a bit because of what she did but is it really worth it? Wouldn't that just truly ruin your relationship?" Wanda was concerned about your state of mind and what you might would do. She knew how rash you were in doing something when you got hurt by someone close to you. "It's hardly a relationship if it's build on lies." You stated without any emotion in your voice and expression. This only showed her that her worries were valid. "Maybe she had a good reason for it." The red head tried so hard to see the positive but of course with your mood, nothing was getting to you.

"I can't think of a single good reason of why she'd lie about her parents passing. I also came up short when I thought of a reason of her hiding our relationship. Like I'd have understood if it were the same situation as it was in our relationship, when you were a baby gay with parents who oftentimes said homophobic remarks and you being afraid to come out. But her father and sister teased us lovebirds and it seemed very genuine, they weren't homophobic." At the mention of Wanda's past, she felt the need to voice her thoughts. "I still feel like they stopped with the remarks after catching Pietro watching gay porn." You gave her a tiny sad smile. "Well either way, at least you had the decency to tell your family that we were not only very good but also very close friends. I'm just a roommate to them."

"I'm sorry." She said it genuine, without any pity or whatsoever. You nodded but also sighed at her apology. "Not your fault Wanda. Don't apologize for something that's out of reach." It was quiet between the two of you for a long moment, eating and drinking to make it less awkward before you asked her if you could crash at her place. "Of course, you're always welcome." Later, right before you went to sleep, you texted your girlfriend that you'd stay at Wanda's for the night.

-----------------------------------

When you got home the next day, Natasha was nowhere to be found, it gave you enough time to ponder if you should simply break up with her and get all your things with you, it would have been a coward move on your part and you were already cowardly enough by staging away from her the night before. You quickly changed into a new set of clothes the grabbing your headphones and went into the kitchen, getting out ingredients from the cabinets to bake something, you still needed to distract yourself before facing Natasha.

The second she entered the apartment and heard movements she knew were only yours, she stopped dead in her tracks as she wasn't expecting you to the apartment yet. She thought that you were staying at Wanda's for a while longer but since you weren't she took the chance to finally talk to you and explain herself. You were startled by the tap on your shoulder, you hadn't heard her come back with the headphones on yours ears blasting angry rock-metal music. Pausing the music and taking the headphones from your ears, you turned around to face Natasha, she had messy hair with dark circles and bags underneath her eyes. It told you that she had a sleepless night.

"I don't want to talk." You told her simply because it irritated you that she disrupted your baking time. She groaned in frustration. "But I need to talk. Y/N I want to fix my mistakes, I want to fix us." She was desperate, you heard it in her voice, but that still didn't change your mind. "Maybe the magnitude of your mistakes are too big to fix." The words you said left her stunned. With the little courage she had left she asked you the important question. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"Not yet." It came out weak, nearly matching the weak tone of the question Natasha asked second before. A bit of relieve flooded her system but she was still tense m, fearing your answer to her next question. "What's holding you back?" You weren't sure if you wanted to let her know your reasons but you ended up opening anyways. "My gut and my trust in you."

The silence that followed was nearly deafening, the redheaded woman simply was at loss of words because it felt wrong for you to still have trust in her. "I haven't shattered your trust yet?"

"Hard to believe right? Despite all your lies I still trust you.. even if it's on a thin thread." There was another couple of minutes of silence before she finally could apologize without you cutting her off. "Then let me apologize because I really have to apologize for how the other day went down. I'm sorry for lying about my parents and that I lied to them about our relationship. I didn't mean to hurt you but I did and now I have to own it up." She started before moving to sit down on a chair. "It's true that my parents died at a young age. Who you saw was my foster family, we didn't always get along which resulted in me distancing myself from them for a decade. It wasn't until we were a year deep into a relationship that we started to have contact again."

"But why lie to them about us? Your father and sister seemed pretty open about homosexuals." You asked, still confused about certain things that needed to be cleared up.

"My plan was to ease them in telling how I'm not only queer but more so a lesbian. Last time I really knew them they were homophobic so I was surprised by their remarks. I hadn't met them in person for so long, I guess they changed a lot during that time." You took your hands in hers. It was a small gesture of you supporting her in quietness. "I'm sorry detka. I should have told you a long time ago about my foster family. And also that I told them you were my roommate."

"I just don't get it. Why tell them we're roommates and not friends?" It was the question that plagued your mind. She bit her lips then shaking her head and looking everywhere but at you. "It wouldn't have been believable. I always ruined all my friendships." You squeezed her hands in hope she'd look at you again and she did even if it was only for a few seconds. "Is there anything else you lied about?"

Her eyes rose to yours, this time you could see her bare soul laying out for you. She removed her hands from yours before answered honest. "Uhh.. my job?" It was barely a second that passed by before you shrieked out her full name. "Natalia Alianovna Romanova!" She squeezed her eyes shut as her name fell from your lips like you called her satan, then she fumbled with her hands until they found yours again. With an honest look in her eyes she apologizes again. "Y/N I'm really sorry okay."

"Sorry doesn't make it better! Natasha you do realize how fucked up this is right? Especially because we talk about work at dinner every other day. Gosh." You felt sick to your stomach when you thought back at the countless of conversations you had. "If-if you're not a secretary then what exactly do you do?"

"I'm actually a SHIELD agent." She leaned closer to you when she noticed your lack of response. When you did reply it made Natasha even more nervous, anxious even, she feared that you decide to break up with her right then and there. "A SHIELD agent?" You repeated calmly, a bit too calm for your girlfriend's liking, a calm person is always one to fear during a fight, they most likely are already done with everything. "A SHIELD agent." Natasha confirmed.

"Were you going to tell me?"

"At some point." You nodded then removed your hands from hers all while you were telling her you needed to go back to baking, you turned around finished your cupcakes. Natasha stood there awkwardly, not knowing what else to tell you or where to go. When the first batch of cupcakes were done you held one in between your fingers, you walked straight up to the redhead with no expression on your face, her heart pounded so wildly that it felt like she was going to die. "As much as I hate you right now, I'm still completely and utterly in love with you." You offered her the cupcake that she gladly accepted with a small smile. "I might be an idiot for even attempting to forgive you but I can honestly see us having a great and long future together."

"I want that. The long and great future with you, I mean." She looked down and smiled shyly

"Good. But it can only happen if you won't lie to me anymore Nat. I'd rather be hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie."

"Okay."

"Okay?" She nodded. "Good. Now come here and give me a kiss."

"Can I eat my cupcake first?" She asked with a twinkle in her eyes. You shook your heard, told her 'no' before you grabbed her head and kissed her like there was no tomorrow.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x you #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #black widow x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #black widow x female reader

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thelittleliars · 2 months

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Happy International Women's day to the one person who made it all possible 🫶🏻

And of course, a special thank you to Scarlett Ingrid Johansson for making this all possible!

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thelittleliars · 2 months

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And I LOVE both 🥰

annihilator » hala | carol danvers destroyer of worlds » earth | daisy johnson

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thelittleliars · 2 months

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I love this so much 🥹

Tattoos for troubled minds | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha struggles to trust anyone when it comes to touching her body. But that becomes rather difficult when a tattoo idea comes into her mind that she just can’t shake

Warnings: mentions of scars, tattoo needles, slight internalised homophobia

wc: 3.6k

note: I don’t actually have tattoos (despite wanting one so badly) so this is probably really inaccurate. I do apologise if this doesn’t make sense. also, I hate this so much but the guilt of not posting is eating me alive so I’m sorry

-⧗-

Natasha was a quiet soul. She kept to herself, usually sitting at her own table in the Shield cafeteria, eyes focused on her plate of food as she ate quickly, just wanting to get out of there. None of the other agents dared make conversation with her, too spooked by her fighting skills to approach. But that didn’t bother her. Her hyper independence made her hesitant to trust people.

Clint was the only one she spoke to outside of working hours. They weren’t exactly friends, but she tolerated him enough to flash a small smile if she saw him in the hallways or feel slightly relaxed if they were paired for missions together.

And he liked her too, especially since her first words had been a jab at his choice of weapon.

“Bow and arrow? What did you do, get your training in a forest?”

But he didn’t take offense to it. After all, he’d made the call to save her and she owed him her life. Which is how, two years later, she was sprawled on his couch, chewing on take out pizza for the second time that week with a scowl.

“I think I want a tattoo.”

Clint frowned at her, wondering where her brain cells had disappeared to. “What?”

“You know, the permanent drawing-“

“Yes I know what a tattoo is Tasha,” he rolled his eyes at her teasing smirk, already over her sarcasm. “But you know it’s a bad idea for spies to have unique markings like that.”

Natasha shrugged, tugging up her sleeve to reveal a strange shaped scar across her bicep. “I’d say I’ve got enough of those naturally. And it would be hidden on my ribs or something.”

Clint just shook his head and turned back to his food. He was used to Natasha’s odd comments and her tattoo phase probably wouldn’t last in his eyes. Just like her ‘wanting to be blonde’ phase didn’t.

But it didn’t end. A month later and Natasha had fallen down the rabbit hole that was tattoo designs on pinterest, courtesy of a fellow agent who introduced her to the app. She didn’t understand it at first, but now it was 3am and her tablet screen was still glaring bright in her face, a plethora of images scattered across her screen.

She saved a couple to a board, now set on design and placement, before placing it to one side with a grin on her face. Natasha climbed out of bed and padded over to her mirror, pulling up her shirt and smiling softly to herself. But the dim lamplight made her scars glisten and she caught herself, a sudden feeling of repulsion shuddering through her body. She looked like a freak and no tattoo artist would want to go near that. Her scars weren’t normal and she wasn’t ready for the questions yet.

Tears glazed her eyes over and her arms snaked across her stomach, her reflection in the mirror now blurry. Even as the salty tears dripped down her cheeks and soaked the collar of her shirt, she didn’t step away, too engrossed with how disgusting she felt in her body.

That stubborn hope that the redroom failed to squash out had ignited inside her once more, except this time she just wanted to laugh at it. Natasha would never be normal. She was what they’d made her into, and a tattoo was never going to change that.

Clint noticed the change in her demeanor when she sat down at breakfast. Natasha barely engaged in her usual small talk, more focused on her food in front of her.

“Did you do anymore tattoo research yesterday?” He asked, knowing that would catch her attention. But instead of the usual spark, she remained dejected, stirring her yogurt half heartedly.

“Yeah,” came her response, albeit rather forced.

“There’s probably a lot of places in DC that would kill to tattoo a shield agent.” Nat shot him a look. “Just saying!”

“Sure. But I don’t think I can anymore.”

Clint looked at her with a frown. “Why not?”

Natasha just looked down and tugged at her sleeve, suddenly feeling exposed in her tight fitting suit. The image in the mirror from last night came into her mind and she pushed her food away, no longer hoodie. And beside that, she didn’t trust people she worked with, so how would she trust a complete stranger to add something permanent on her body? Getting a tattoo would be nothing but a dream for her, she knew that, but it still crushed her.

Clint studied his best friend for a moment in thought, before he placed his hand gently on her arm. “I might know someone who can help.” Natasha looked up, now interested. Her face was still stony but Clint knew she was excited. “A friend of Laura’s, we helped her out even before you came here.”

“An agent?” Clint hadn’t mentioned anyone like that before and it confused Natasha.

But Clint shook his head. “No, nothing like that. She came to Laura and I when she was a teenager and had nowhere else to go. And you know my wife-“

“Can’t let anyone suffer,” Natasha finished for him, warmth spreading in her stomach at the thought of the soft woman she’d grown to adore. Laura really did have the biggest heart out of everyone.

“Exactly that. Y/n was fourteen, I think, parents kicked her out of the house. How she got to ours, I’ll never know, but she just appeared on the doorstep one night and Laura melted at the sight of her.” Clint’s expression softened at the memory. “But anyway, what I’m saying is that she’s a tattoo artist. She’s got trust issues just like you and I think she’ll help.”

Natasha scowled at the last part, wanting to protest his comment. But she knew he was right; her trust issues were what got her into this mess in the first place.

“But she’s a kid?”

“No, almost the same age as you,” Clint said with a laugh. “You’ll like her, but she can be a little scary.”

“Scarier than me?”

Clint smirked. “Oh, you’d be surprised. That glare of hers rivals yours.” This vague description intrigued Natasha and Clint could see the cogs turning in her mind. “She knows what we do and she’s seen my scars. Trust me, they won’t put her off.”

Natasha’s head shot up, staring at her best friend with confusion. Was she that easy to read? Or did he just know her too well?

~~~

With the news of her favourite girls coming back home, Laura had been in a frenzy of cleaning and preparing. Clint had texted to say he was only minutes away so she left the dishes to soak and headed to the porch, anxiously staring at the track beside their house as she waited.

Anyone would have thought she was married to Natasha over Clint by the difference in reactions she gave them. Sure, Clint got a kiss and a hug, but Natasha truly got the special treatment, with Laura scanning her to make sure she wasn’t injured and quizzing her about how she was. Poor Clint was left to grab their bags as the women disappeared into the farmhouse.

Tea was poured and snacks were eaten in the cosy kitchen before the doorbell rang and Laura excused herself, leaving an anxious Natasha on her own for a moment. Muffled voices could be heard but she tried to go against her instincts of listening in and instead busied herself with a loose thread on the tablecloth. She heard footsteps approaching and turned in her chair, ignoring the way her heart thumped loudly in her chest.

The woman who walked in the kitchen doorway was stunning, Natasha couldn’t deny it, and her eyes darted to the patchwork of tattoos that littered her exposed arms. Their eyes met, and Natasha swore she could see the walls up in the other woman’s mind. But it didn’t scare her off. No. It brought her a weird sense of comfort and her body started to relax.

Clad in a black cropped tank and black cargo pants, Y/n hesitated in the doorway, duffle bag slung over her shoulder hitting the wall gently. Laura appeared behind her, gentle hands falling to her shoulders.

“Y/n, this is Natasha, the one I told you about.” The y/h/c girl made no effort to move. “She’s Clint’s partner.” Clearly not much of a talker, Y/n just nodded, not hiding the fact she was scanning Natasha from head to toe. She didn’t trust strangers, but she trusted Laura and Clint who seemed to love Natasha. So maybe she wasn’t a threat.

“Hi, you can call me Nat if you want.” No one called her Nat except Laura, but it was a feeble attempt to make the atmosphere more comfortable. Another nod came but Laura smiled.

“Do you want to go set up? All of your stuff is still exactly where you left it,” Laura addressed Y/n who adjusted the grip on her bag and disappeared down the hall without a word. Natasha’s eyebrows raised at Laura who watched her go, a fond look in her eyes. “She does speak, I promise.”

Natasha shook her head, brushing her off. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I can tell you care about her a lot.”

“She’s like a daughter to me, kind of like you are.” Natasha’s cheeks flushed at that. “She doesn’t have anyone except us, so I worry. She’s a real sweetheart though, she’s just been through a lot. Kind of like someone else I know.”

“I’ll be kind, don’t worry.”

Laura couldn’t help but smile as she stirred her tea. “Oh I know. She already likes you, you don’t need to worry about that.”

Natasha let out a sigh and started to play with the hem of her zip up jacket. It suddenly felt real, the whole tattoo thing. And whilst she weirdly trusted Y/n, it didn’t help ease her nerves any less.

The redhead sensed a new presence before she spotted her, standing in the doorway just like she was before.

“Ready when you are, Nat.” Her voice was slightly raspy from lack of use and she spoke quietly, almost as if she was scared she’d get into trouble. Natasha smiled softly at the sound of her nickname and squeezed Laura’s hand before she followed the y/h/c girl down the hallway of the house she considered her second home.

Clint’s office had been turned into a makeshift tattoo studio with all new equipment and furniture decorating the small space. The tattoo bed had a fresh paper layer on top and Y/n gestured for Natasha to take a seat.

“Ok, do you have an idea of what you want? And where?” Y/n sat down at a small table and picked up her pen before looking at Natasha expectantly.

“I’ve got a couple of reference pictures on my phone.” The small device was handed over and Y/n swiped between them, nodding in approval before setting it down. “The last one is just for placement ideas.”

“I’ll work up a sketch and you can tell me what needs changing.” Luckily Natasha’s design was incredibly simple and it didn’t take long for Y/n to hold up her page.

Natasha slid off the bed and slowly walked over, not wanting to startle the skittish girl. But Y/n just moved over, clearly welcoming the redhead into her space.

“I love that a lot,” Natasha praised, studying the simple lines. “But maybe it could be a bit smaller.”

“I can scale it down when I make the stencil, no problem. But is the design alright? Remember, it is permanent so I want you to be completely happy with it.”

Natasha studied it for a moment, a smile tugging at her lips as she imagined it on her body. Y/n had talent, anyone could see that even from such a simple drawing, and Natasha nodded before she slid the notebook back to her.

“I love it, I really do.”

Y/n nodded, grabbing her stencil paper from a drawer by her leg. She wordlessly began making the stencil and Natasha took this as her cue to return to her seat. She peered around the room, admiring a few pictures that were on the walls. Incredibly complicated tattoos which she guessed Y/n had done.

The young girl sketching away in the corner thoroughly interested her and something inside Natasha was drawn in. She wanted to get to know her because aside from the shy and hesitant exterior she was effortlessly cool and seemed sweet. Maybe Y/n could be the start of Natasha’s project to make friends.

“If you lie back on the seat and lift your shirt, we can make sure this is exactly how you want it before I start.”

Natasha took a deep breath and slowly lifted her shirt and lowered the waistband of her sweatpants so her hip bone was exposed. She shivered despite the room being warm, fully aware that her nastiest scar was on full display on her lower stomach.

But Y/n didn’t care. Or at least she didn’t make it obvious if it bothered her. “Is it ok if I touch your hip?” She asked, looking Natasha straight in the eyes. The redhead almost melted at her words, not used to ever being asked that question.

“Of course, do what you need.” Y/n’s fingers were soft and delicate as she placed the stencil on Natasha’s skin. She didn’t touch anywhere she didn’t need to and worked quickly, making sure it was fully stuck down before stepping back to allow Natasha to step over to the mirror.

Although it wasn’t permanent, Natasha’s heart was racing as she saw the way the black ink stood out against her pale skin. The symbol was small but perfect in her eyes, and she turned back to Y/n with a grin.

“It’s perfect!”

“Then I’ll get started.”

Due to the design being so small, it took no more than fifteen minutes for Y/n to complete. Her hand was incredibly steady and Natasha’s pain tolerance was so high she barely felt it. The room was silent aside from the faint buzzing, no conversation stemming from either woman. Questions spiralled around Natasha’s head but she knew this wasn’t the place to ask them.

Completely lost in her head, Natasha failed to notice the silence or the fact that her hip bone was no longer burning. Y/n kept working, wiping away the excess ink and making sure she hadn’t missed a spot. But it was perfect, as usual, and she gently tapped Nat on the thigh to snap her out of her head.

“You’re now free to look.”

Natasha grinned and hopped off the bed, holding up her shirt again as she looked in the mirror. Tears almost sprung to her eyes as she admired the finished product, and they probably would have tumbled down her cheeks if she had been alone.

A small spider sat on the front of her hip, legs slightly bent. It looked so delicate on her skin and for the first time in her entire life, Natasha actually liked looking at herself in the mirror.

“It’s so beautiful,” she began to ramble, unable to tear her eyes away. “You’ve got real talent Y/n, I can’t thank you enough. It’s so perfect.”

Y/n blushed and couldn’t stop the smile that graced her lips, catching Natasha’s eyes in the mirror and making the redhead freeze.

Her smile.

The young woman hadn’t smiled the entire time she’d arrived, but seeing her now was like a breath of fresh air. Smiling looked so good on her and Natash couldn’t get enough.

“If you want to show Laura, you can, but you’ll need to come back so I can wrap it safely.” Natasha glanced at her new addition and nodded, but hesitated once she was by the door.

“I think you should come too. The artist and her artwork.” Natasha spoke with a smirk and Y/n couldn’t ever imagine saying no to that woman. So she nodded again, her usual response, and meekly followed her back down the hall, pulling off her gloves as she walked.

Laura was already waiting for them in the kitchen and she placed her reading glasses in her hair to get a good look at Natasha who still hadn’t dropped her shirt down. She’d never seen the Russian with such a wide grin before, her usual collected expression completely out of the window.

“It looks beautiful, Nat, truly. You did such a good job Y/n.”

“You never told me how talented she is!” Natasha stepped to the side to allow Y/n to come forward, but the humble woman stayed where she was, already hating the attention. She didn’t see her art as talent, more like a form of escapism. But it made people happy and that was all she wanted.

“I wanted you to see for yourself,” Laura replied. “And besides, she never believes me when I tell her how good she is.”

“You’re really easy to tattoo. You don’t squirm or cry like other people do, so really I should be thanking you.” Laura was taken aback by Y/n’s comment, not used to more than three words coming out of the girl’s mouth. But the more she observed her, the more she saw her change. The darkness she’d noticed since Y/n was a teenager had lifted a little and she seemed a lot less guarded, looking over at Natasha with a soft expression.

And Natasha looked back at her just the same, purely in awe of how gentle she was. As Y/n gestured for them to return to the office and offered to hold Nat’s shirt, Laura felt like squealing like a child.

Two of her favourite people in the world had found each other and, despite both being so broken and fragile, fit together so perfectly it was like they were made for each other.

Natasha was strong enough and sure of herself enough for the both of them, and Y/n treated her with such delicacy and care that it slowly broke away Natasha’s trust issues and allowed her to open up. And Natasha’s protective nature came out around the other woman, wanting to keep her safe from the world.

With a quick word about going to show Clint, Natasha disappeared into the front yard with her newly wrapped hip, leaving Y/n to find Laura again. The older woman welcomed her with a hug and pulled a chair close to her own.

“You like her, don’t you?”

Y/n kept her gaze on the crossword Laura was doing, not wanting her eyes to give her away if she looked up. “She’s nice.”

“Hey,” Laura said softly, carefully taking Y/n’s hand in her own. She didn’t miss the way she flinched but unfortunately she was used to that by now. “You’re not back there. You’re allowed to like her if that’s what you want and feel. She’s a good person, but so are you, you don’t need to be scared.”

Y/n’s eyes followed where their hands were clasped up to Laura’s face, trying to find any hints that showed she was lying. But all that came back was the soft and caring face she’d grown to love, one that didn’t lie to her and didn’t hate her for who she was.

“I don’t like her like that.” Call her a hypocrite for lying, but Y/n had her reasons. Loving a woman was still unnatural in her eyes, despite her contrasting feelings that longed for it.

“Y/n…” Laura’s ‘mom’ tone was one she was used to and she knew she was caught out. “I’m not asking you to tell me now, but you deserve happiness, as does she. And I haven’t seen either of you that relaxed in a really long time. So please don’t push her away.”

Y/n didn’t know what to think. How could she? Her whole life had centred around hating who she was, so how could anyone ever like her like that? It messed with her head and Laura could see that.

But what was Natasha if not a life saver. She came strolling into the kitchen, her tshirt now tucked up into the band of her sports bra to allow her tattoo to be on full display. Y/n smiled slightly at the sight.

Sinking down into the chair beside her, Natasha noticed the clasped hands of the women and wondered what she’d interrupted. But that wasn’t her place to ask, so she turned to Y/n.

“How can I pay you? How much do you charge?”

Y/n shook her head frantically, pulling her hand away from Laura. “Nothing, honestly. You’re a friend, it’s no big deal.”

“Absolutely not. If you won’t take money, at least let me repay you another way.”

“Nat-“

“Dinner? How about you let me take you to dinner next week. You’re from the city, right?” Y/n nodded, her brows creasing. She turned to Laura for help but the older woman just smiled widely and nodded, giving her as much non verbal encouragement as she could. “Please, Y/n?”

She’d said yes before she could even process what was going on. After all, they were just friends going to dinner. People in the movies that she’d seen did it, so she could too.

What was so wrong with that?

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thelittleliars · 2 months

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The 4 times you care for her and the One time she lets you

Summary: Exactly what's in the title. The 4 times you care for her and the one time she comes to you.

Warnings: Physical injuries (mild), Talks of trauma and nightmares. Feeling overwhelmed by emotions. Otherwise, this is just a fluffy comforting hurt/comfort fic

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The 1st time

The apartment was a haven cloaked in subdued light when Natasha returned from a mission, her usual air of stoicism carrying the weight of a fresh wound on her side. You were absorbed in a book, engrossed in a world far removed from the shadows she navigated. The door creaked open, and you looked up to find Natasha, her expression betraying nothing.

"You know, I've had worse," she said, a half-smile attempting to conceal the pain etched on her face.

"Maybe, but this one needs attention," you replied, putting the book down and motioning towards the makeshift infirmary in the corner of the room.

"I don't need a doctor, Y/N. I heal just fine on my own," Natasha protested, her usual stoicism intact.

"Even the strongest need a helping hand sometimes," you countered, guiding her towards the examination table. As you prepared to clean the wound, the room filled with the antiseptic scent, setting the stage for a moment of vulnerability.

The quiet rhythm of stitching punctuated the room, Natasha's attempts at deflecting the situation with nonchalant conversation proving futile. She squirmed under your touch, a mix of discomfort and a stubborn desire to maintain her composure.

"I can handle pain," she insisted, though the tightness of her jaw suggested otherwise.

"I don't doubt that. But there's strength in allowing someone to share the burden," you replied, securing the last stitch. Natasha's gaze lingered, a silent acknowledgment that maybe, just this once, she didn't have to bear it all alone.

The room settled into a comforting quiet, and as Natasha's gaze met yours, she whispered a vulnerable "Thank you." With a playful smirk, you leaned in, "Just doing my duty, Doc. Next time, though, try not to bring back souvenirs from your missions."

The redhead simply smiled, leaning over to give you kiss

The 2nd time

The apartment's warmth contrasted sharply with Natasha's exhausted demeanor after a mission in a hostile climate. She brushed off your concern with a tired smile, but the thermometer in your hand betrayed the fever coursing through her veins.

"Just need some rest," Natasha murmured, attempting to push herself off the couch.

"Rest alone won't fix this," you said, pressing a damp cloth to her forehead. "You need more than solitude."

"I'm used to it," Natasha admitted, her eyes flickering with a vulnerability rarely shared. "But I suppose a bit of company won't hurt."

Her protests waned as the hours passed, the fever gradually relenting under your care. Natasha, usually the unyielding Black Widow, lay on the couch, looking more like a person with needs than a formidable warrior.

"Stubbornness won't always keep you strong," you remarked, sitting by her side.

"I'm not being stubborn, and who said anything about trying to stay strong"

"Accepting care is a strength of its own, Nat," you replied softly, despite her defensive tone. In that moment, the shadows of her resistance gave way to a soft light—the first step in acknowledging that even the most formidable warriors needed someone to tend to their wounds. With a smirk, you added, "Besides, even superheroes need a super cool sidekick sometimes, right?"

The 3rd time

Weeks passed, and Natasha, usually the master of hiding her vulnerabilities, found herself wrestling with nightmares that lingered long after the mission had ended. One night, the echoes of her dreams woke her in a cold sweat. Silently, she slipped into the living room where you were engrossed in a book, unaware of the turmoil unfolding within her.

"Bad dreams?" you asked, sensing the weight in her footsteps.

Natasha nodded, a rare vulnerability flickering in her eyes before she returned to her stoicism. "No"

"Nat" you sighed, "Everyone has nightmares, you can trust me" you say softly, your gaze meeting hers with understanding. Natasha hesitated, the fortress around her momentarily lowered.

You opened your arms for her to crawl into, which she did, burying her face in your neck and gripping you with her hands, as your arms wrapped around her, as you hummed gently, lulling her back to sleep.

The following nights were a symphony of silence and uneasy slumber. One such night, she had denied to share the comfort you offered, instead opting to sit up against the headboard as you sat beside her, your presence a silent comfort, allowing her to think herself. The vulnerability etched on Natasha's face was a rare crack in the fortress.

"They don't usually get to me, but lately..." she finally said

"Lately, they've found their way past your defenses," you finished her sentence, your tone soft and understanding. Natasha hesitated, her guard momentarily lowered. You intertwined your fingers as she leant her head on your shoulder

Through whispered reassurances and shared silences, the nightmares slowly loosened their grip. Natasha, still reluctant to admit the depth of her struggles, found an unexpected solace in the safety of your presence. The unraveling threads of her guarded emotions began to weave a new narrative—one where vulnerability became a source of strength.

The 4th time

Natasha's life was a perpetual storm, her emotions buried beneath layers of steely resolve. Recognizing the toll it took on her, you gently persuaded her to take breaks. These moments, however, were met with resistance.

"I don't need breaks, Y/N. I can handle it," Natasha protested, her words a shield against the vulnerability she sought to avoid.

"Handling it doesn't mean doing it alone," you countered, placing your hands on your hips signifying there was no room for discussion.

In the stolen moments, the two of you discovered the art of finding peace amidst the chaos. Laughter echoed in the quiet spaces, and shared silences spoke louder than words. Despite her initial reluctance, Natasha found that strength wasn't just in facing the storm but also in finding moments of calm within it.

The quiet moments became a refuge—a place where Natasha could shed the layers of her tough exterior. Amidst the chaos of her life, your shared laughter and quiet conversations created a haven. Natasha, accustomed to the roar of battles, slowly learned to appreciate the beauty in the whispers of stillness.

Through these stolen moments, the tapestry of your relationship grew, weaving threads of peace and understanding into the fabric of your lives. Natasha, though still guarded, began to find solace in the simplicity of shared moments. The fortress around her heart started to crumble, brick by brick, revealing the vulnerable core beneath.

The one time she comes to you for comfort

The apartment was bathed in a soft glow as you immersed yourself in your book, unaware of the storm brewing within Natasha. The weight of a recent mission's emotional toll manifested in her weary steps. She stood before you, a crack in her stoic facade.

"I'm supposed to be stronger than this," Natasha's voice was barely audible, but the vulnerability echoed through the room.

Startled, you looked up from your book to find Natasha standing before you, her mask of resilience slipping. Without a word, you closed the book and made space for her on the couch, silently tapping the empty space beside you for her to join you.

"I don't want to burden you," Natasha admitted, her voice tinged with vulnerability, after she had taken her seat beside you.

"You're not a burden, Natasha. You're human," you replied softly, your gaze meeting hers with unwavering support. In that moment, the fortress around her heart crumbled, revealing the raw emotions she had long kept hidden.

Tears welled in Natasha's eyes as she allowed herself to break, the weight of her burdens lifting with each shared confession. You listened, offering no judgment or solutions, but simply the comforting presence of someone who cared. Through the emotional storm, a sense of release emerged, and Natasha found that vulnerability didn't diminish her strength—it added a layer of resilience she hadn't known she possessed.

And so, with that, you turned on Friends, and while she watched and laughed at the show you looked at her with heart eyes, as you held the woman you loved dearly in your arms.

As the evening wore on, the echoes of Natasha's emotional turmoil faded into the quiet of the night, replaced by a newfound sense of peace. In that shared moment of vulnerability, the bond between you deepened, anchored by the understanding that even the strongest souls needed a shoulder to lean on from time to time.

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thelittleliars · 2 months

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I'm like halfway finished with my next one-shot but I don't know if it should be like pure angst or just angst but with a happy ending. What do y'all want??

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #black widow x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #black widow x female reader

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thelittleliars · 2 months

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Valentine's day getaway

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: fluff

Words: 1.6K

Summary: A little roadtrip on Valentine's with your girlfriend.

A/N: a little one shot for valentine's day because I want Nat to be my Valentine 😭

The sun rays shone directly through the window of the car where you sat. You didn't mind feeling the warmth of the first few sun rays on your skin, you actually liked it. What you didn't like was the long sitting, you itched to stretch your legs and get that pain away that your butt got from sitting for nearly three hours. Those two little breaks you already had did not help a bit. You groaned in discomfort. "Tell me, why are we even driving again? We could have borrowed a quinjet." Natasha, your girlfriend quickly looked over to you with a grin before focusing on the street again. "Because I like driving and I love spending time with you."

"I always love doing something with you Nat, but driving 3 1/2 hours just to a cabin up in Northville is not something I imagined when you say you want to spend time with me."

"Yeah well.. I wanted some alone time with you, away from everyone and it's a cabin nobody knows about." She told you softly. You nodded and then added your thoughts to it. "Nobody but your sister, you mean."

"Only because she helped me with the final decision." Your girlfriend revealed as it made you even more excited to arrive there. "That's nice of her." Natasha snorted, knowing Yelena only did something nice if it benefitted her. "It's obvious she only did that for her own gains. It'd be another safe house."

"That or so that she could annoy her big sister." You teased but it kind of backfired when you heard more of an angry grumble. "Probably both." You instantly shifted the conversation back to the cabin alone. "I want a whole tour when we arrive." Natasha didn't say anything else, she only gave you a smirk that made you sigh in relief, she wasn't angry or mad.

The rest of the drive was silent except for the punk-rock radio station that was playing in the background. You became giddy as your girlfriend pulled into the tiny driveway. The cabin looked small but also cozy from the outside. Natasha quickly hauled your duffel bags out the trunk and joined you at the front door. She unlocked it with the keys she had and let you in first. You were too amazed with how pretty it looked that Natasha had hushed past you to even close the door. Only after you heard her cursing further in the cabin, you put your admiration aside and rushed after her. Then there you saw the blond widow, Yelena Belova as she had made herself comfortable on the sofa.

"I made plans Yelena." Natasha didn't shout or yell at her sister but her frustration was still very clear in her voice. The blonde girl ignored it and smiled at you two. "Great! Now you can include me in those plans." You didn't know if the little widow had the same idea as you, a weekend away from the Avengers or if she knew about the older woman's plans and simply were here to annoy her.

"No." She said it sternly and glared hard at her sister, hoping that the little widow would get a hint. But she did not or she ignores it and continued to fuck around with the older widow. "Why not?" You waved to her as a little hello, she greeted you back with a grin and a nod. "Because that would be fucking disgusting!" Yelena furrowed her eyebrows. "So you're calling me disgusting now?" You were holding yourself back from laughing. The sibling interaction was too funny for you.

"Let me spell it out for you since you can't seem to get it." Natasha grunted. "I have planned romantic and sexualthings."

"Eww why'd tell me about that?! I didn't need to know it." Yelena made a gagging noise while she shows the disgust with a clear expression on her face.

"As if you would have stopped at the romantic part!" The redhead basically growled out in anger. The younger sister seemed to take it as a direct attack. "I would have!" She countered back with the same amount of passion in her voice as Natasha. "No you wouldn't and I know that for sure because you came along on so many of our date nights." You put a hand on Natasha's arm to calm her, you knew how deeply it affected her whenever her sister came to your dates. All Natasha wanted was to be the hopeless romantic she knew she could be but without getting teased for it and with Yelena in tow it was simply not possible.

Before it got out of hand you decided to speak up. "Yel, it's Valentine's day.. and we really need some time just for the two of us." The younger sibling looked at Natasha intensly. "My god." She groaned and sighed in annoyance. "If you're really that desperate then okay I'll be gone in an hour."

"You better be." Nat's voice was so cold that if you wouldn't drag her away something awful would happen. You took her hand in yours and dragged her outside. Once you were near the water, you sat down on a stump. It seemed like the tree that was once there got chopped off a while ago. "Don't let her get to you. She'll be gone within the hour and we'll be all alone and have a lot of me & you time." A small smile tugged at her lips when you pulled her towards you, hinting that you want her to sit on you. She willingly placed herself on your lap, exhaled loudly as she leaned against your front with her back, your arms wrapped around her waist.

This was heaven for her, being held by you and hearing you hum soft melodies. "You know, if I knew you'd drag me out of bed early in the morning on Valentine's day then I'd have gone to a flower shop the day before to get you the most beautiful bouquet." She turned her head towards you. "I told you before that I don't need a physical gift for today. Being with you is all I want." She laid her warm hands on your arm, squeezed it gently before simply just holding onto it.

"Do you even realize how much my heart always melts whenever you say stuff like that and with that look in your eyes?"

"Well now that I know I won't ever stop doing it." She teased you.

"That is cruel my love." You joked back.

"Being loved by me is cruel now? Weren't you the one who told me not to stay around toxic people?" Tilting her head to the side she gave you a pointed look.

"You have way more green flags than red flags so I guess I'm good." You smiled happily at her. "And don't you even start with you being an ex-assassin is the biggest red flag of all time because you my dear black widow redeemed yourself a thousand of times."

"I don't know what to say."

"Say you love me."

"I love you."

"And I.. love you more." You hugged her tighter. "You know.. I've been here for a hot minute and I can already see how we grow old and settle down in this humble abode."

"Hmm, that sounds amazing. Are we married in your vision?" She bit her lip. You shook your head. "No. I don't have anything against marrying you though." Nat raised an eyebrow. "So you'd want to be married to me?" She asked warily.

"Oh c'mon Nat, you're an amazing woman. You have skillsets like no other, you're very intelligent and funny, you're humble and a big soft heart and let's not forget you're beautiful like a goddess. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a wife."

She turned away from you as she started to blush deeply. "Stop it or I slap you." She threatened as you nuzzled your nose back into her neck and though you couldn't see the redness in her face, you could feel the warmth radiating from her.

"I don't mind being slapped by you. Maybe you'd even do that thigh move of yours to stop be completely huh?"

"I want you to be alive."

"I trust you to not crush me. Though I wouldn't min-" She cut you off. "Get those sick thoughts out of your head Y/N. I liked you better with a rather innocent mind."

"You definitely won't get that wife title if you stop me from trying to communicate my needs with you." You loosened your grip on her to poke a finger into her side. She turned her head towards you and mumble an 'I hate you' before she leaned in to kiss you. "If I hate you is the new I love you then okay I hate you too babe." You both continued sitting there in comfortable silence.

A gust of wind blew from time to time, tossing Nat's kinda shortish hair right in your face but you didn't mind that, the birds chirped and the ducks that were on the lake quacked. The soft rustling of trees intruded your ears as if it was a soundtrack playing in the background of a movie. And then there was suddenly the noise of a bike starting and driving off. You guessed that it was Yelena leaving. But before you two got up you to go back inside, you watched some cute little ducks walking on the shore a few feet from you.

The rest of the day contained a lot of giggling, chasing each other around the house and making out. Towards the evening you had a very romantic candle light dinner that you both helped to get it done. To top it all off you two had a very intimate night with the promise of repeating everything at one point in the future.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x you

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thelittleliars · 3 months

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P.S. I Want You | Chapter 4

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: dirty talk, mentions of fireworks, (i think that's it)

Words: 5.3K

AN: I wrote like 95% of the chapter months ago and only recently it felt like the right time to edit it and change some things. I had plans for a chapter 5 & 6 happening but I'm honestly not really feeling this series anymore. I still love it dearly and that's why there will be another chapter at one point. I can't leave it all hanging like this! P.S. I Want You Masterlist

Morning rolled in way too fast for your liking. You did sleep in but it simply wasn't enough as you still felt very tired. The sound of your doorbell ringing worsened your mood, you grumpily stood up and walked towards your front door. You let out a breath of air before taking a long breath in and prepared yourself for social interaction but it was as if the universe was having it with you that day because when you opened the door, you somehow knocked your elbow against it, the pain hurt like hell. "Fucking shit!" You shut your eyes before collecting yourself and look at the person standing in front of you. Natasha stood there all shy and for a moment you didn't realize that it was her but when you did you tried to remember what happened the night before. It came to you fast that the two of you fell asleep on your couch. With one look at her clothes you instantly knew she had left at some point at night. You didn't know why you felt sad and betrayed that she just left without waking you up and telling you it face to face but the fact that she was here again had something to mean right?

She looked in your eyes for a while before asking if she could come in. You of course let her in and closed the door after she stepped into your apartment. Why she was here so early and in a new set of (changed) clothes was something you were wondering but had no desire to ask with that sour mood of yours. Without another word you went into your kitchen, Natasha followed you silently and only spoke when she saw you started to make coffee.

"I hope you're not mad at me for leaving without a note. Everything was suddenly too much for me and I had to get some air. This morning I felt guilty for leaving you so I wanted to buy you coffee to make it up to you but literally everything seems to be closed today." She frowned.

You shook your head. "I'm not mad even if it might seem right now. All I need is coffee to wake up properly."

"Okay." The small grin that appeared on her face made her look even more adorable but you didn't tell her that. Instead you told her to wait here as you wanted to freshen yourself up. Natasha took a look around your apartment again as you quickly brushed your teeth, made your hair and changed clothes before grabbing your phone from your nightstand and headed back. "No wonder everything's closed today. It's the 20th - St. Stephen's Day!" You grabbed two mugs and poured the fresh hot coffee in it, then walked over to the kitchen table where Natasha had sat herself when she saw you entering the room again. You quickly walked back to get the milk. "Need any sugar for your coffee?"

She shook her head. "No, I drink it black. Sometimes with milk to switch it up." At first she only sipped on her coffee to test the taste of it, which was heavenly, she had to complimented your coffee making skill that made you giggle. You appreciated her words anyways. "St Stephen's Day huh? Does anything open at all today?"

"Museums and thermal bath are open and so are most restaurants but that's it. Today's national holiday is to celebrate the name day of the first king of Hungary, King Stephen but also the day of the foundation of Hungary and 'the day of the new bread'." You told her as much as you could, which was barely anything but she still listened intently. And boy you felt how intently she listened to every word that came out of your mouth. Her gaze was hot as it wandered around your face, taking in every micro expression as you talked, and every now and then went to your lips. She knew you noticed it as she saw your ears turning into a shade of pink. "Would you be up to go to a museum? Wait not forget it. It's gonna be packed." You were embarrassed that you didn't think it through before opening your mouth to suggest something. What you didn't expect was how sweet Natasha was reacting. "I wouldn't mind going with you but after what happened last year I don't think it's the wisest to go outside when it's packed. There's a high chance of people recognizing me and I don't want to ruin our time together. I came here for you and only you, not for other people recognizing an ex-fugitive and Avenger."

"So a day in? Just you and me and our sexual tension." You wiggled your eyebrows. Natasha was suddenly taken aback from your boldness, she also wasn't expecting you voicing your sexual attraction so openly. You constantly look so innocent that she hadn't gotten in her head yet that your mind is very dirty. "I give it to you. You hide the lust well, I almost don't see it in your eyes but there are seconds where you crack. And what I see then.. oh lord it's fucking sexy." The redhead's body froze, her eyes widen in shock and desire, her breathe got faster as she tried to stop the thoughts from rushing in her head, she failed miserable though. She slowly could feel how turned on she got, that's what had her shift in her seat, you saw it and hid your smirk behind your mug as you drank the coffee. "It's quite hot in here maybe I shou-" She cut your teasing short. "NO! I mean it's not that hot in here. A window should do it otherwise I recommend a cold shower."

You smiled at her before you looked down at your mug. "I'm sorry for teasing you so shamelessly. I don't know what came over me. All I know is that you gave me a huge boost of confidence."

"Wow look at that. First being so bold and now getting all shy?

"It's all your doing! You drive me so crazy that I don't know how to act around you."

"I do have that affect on people." She smiles smugly. It's as if she wanted to kill you.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" You changed the topic. She told you that she didn't had anything but your coffee so when you offered to make something she quickly agreed. It was not much but you both were alright with scrambled eggs, bread with cheese or jam and some oatmeal. The two of you ate quietly breakfast quietly, only asking each other a few questions occasionally. Afterwards you retreated onto the couch with another fresh cup of coffee. As you watched a tv show you couldn't help but stealing glances at her. The woman looked so stunning with her loosened braid and the redness of her hair.. it amazed you each and every time you saw it, even drove you almost mad because you couldn't believe how she was real. Your glances turned into a stare at some point. When you got caught you got lost even more in wondering how she could be real that you didn't notice how close she came and where her hands went. "Y/N?"

"Gosh Nat." You almost moaned because of her beauty. "How are you even real? I have trouble believing that you're not heaven sent." The moment you finally realized her closeness to you, it felt like as if your heart wanted to jump out of your chest, it was beating that fast. "Right now the biggest urge I have is to make you mine. You intrigued me the second I first saw you and the more you wrote me your postcards, the more I knew I won't ever be able to let you go. We don't know each other that long and I honestly don't know that much about you but I like you a lot. But I'm honestly so afraid to scare you away by asking you to be my girlfriend so instead of asking I'll just let you know my feelings and when you're ready you can ask me or simply say an answer. Until then can I kiss you to still my urge?" You were right of having to be afraid of asking, Natasha was too overwhelmed and scared to answer. Though she had no doubts about kissing you so she leaned forward and closed the gap. Those soft kisses she indicated turned into a full make out session because you couldn't seem to get enough of her. Something in her mind had switched and everything turned more heated. Open mouth kisses lead to tangling fingers in each others hair and hot kissing trailing down your throat. "Oh sweet fucking Jesus." You cursed and moaned quietly. "I want to fuck you so bad and then I want you fucking me til it's dawn."

Natasha stopped and looked into your eyes that were hazed. "You sure do have one hell of a dirty mouth for a virgin." You raised an eyebrow. "I'm way too old to be a fucking innocent virgin. Virginity is overrated anyways."

"Who needs an innocent virgin anyways when you can get a dirty mouthed virgin because that - that is way sexier." You smashed your lips against hers again all while grabbing her waist to push your bodies so close together that there wasn't any space. Despite the kissing getting wild again, you nor her made a move beyond that. You both kind of knew it wasn't the right time. "I think I need an awful cold shower."

"Me too. How about we save water by taking one together?" She teased you a last time. You groaned and hid your face in her neck.

"You're the worst." You mumbled as you continued to hold her.

Later that day, hours after Natasha had gone to the place she rented and you had a cold shower, you hit her up with a text message.

Today 6:34 PM Fireworks along the Danube start at 9pm. Wanna go with me? I can give you a cap and sunglass as cover.

Today 7:22 PM At what time should I be at your apartment?

Today 7:24 PM Around 8:30 would be great.

Today 7:29 PM Okay sounds good. See you then :)

Exactly at 8:30 pm the doorbell of your apartment rang. Natasha was punctual and that impressed you significantly. You were once again shocked when you saw her in a grey black striped hoodie and a grey-brownish jacket over it. That outfit suited her so well. After giving her a compliment, you grabbed your keys and stuffed them into the pocket of your pants.

Together you took the metro that stops at the Parliament. There were already a tons of people which shouldn't be a surprise but it was anyways. You took Natasha's hand in your own to move through the crowd without loosing her. After a couple of minutes you found a perfect spot to stay and watch the fireworks. "I really hope that not more people will come right now. I hate when crowds basically squeeze you to death."

"You have me here so you won't get squeezed to death. I'll protect you."

"Well thank you my dear knight in shining armor." The redhead didn't say anything, she only raised an eyebrow. "Sorry my bad. I meant to say thank you my dear Avenger."

Natasha scoffed and shook her head. "You're unbelievable." You grinned at her and asked her why that was so. "You didn't know about the Avengers until a few days ago and now you're poking fun at me!"

"Wrong. I knew about the Avengers just not that all of you are the Avengers or what you look like." You explained. The banter continued until they started the firework show. And it blew you away, fireworks always blew you always since it fascinated you deeply. The sound, the colors, the patterns, the explosions. Somewhere in the middle Natasha turned your head towards her and pulled you into a sweet kiss. During that moment it really felt like a once in a lifetime kiss that created butterflies in your stomach. It was probably the start of you falling for the Black Widow.

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On the other side of the world, Yelena laughed her ass off as Kate showed her what tabloids had written about her sister. She found it extremely funny that Natasha had gotten recognized overseas this quick. She had left New York only 3 days prior and now headlines were flying around without stopping anytime soon.

Black Widow was seen with alleged girlfriend in Budapest.

Black Widow back in Budapest!

Black Widow spotted kissing an unknown Woman in Budapest.

Black Widow getting cosy with a local in Budapest.

Yelena not only sent screenshots of the headlines of the articles to her sister but she also sent the blurry photo that showed you and the redhead kissing in the middle of the crowd.

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Today 12:44 PM When are you off work?

Today 2:16 PM At 4pm, why?

Today 2:17 PM I'll be waiting for you at your apartment then. Need to talk to you as soon as possible.

Her text seemed very urgent to you, it confused you to why she needed to talk to you asap. The curiosity was killing you especially because you couldn't just call her to ask what was up. You were still at work, you had your break a little before Natasha first wrote so there was no way you were able to get another one. For the remaining two hours you were plagued by wondering what Natasha wanted to talk about. It made you incredible nervous when you saw that she wasn't standing in front of your door. You quickly unlocked your door and went inside. Natasha was pacing around your open living room and only stopped after the sound of a door closing. She quickly shoved her phone into your hands, the chat with Yelena was open - you noticed the tiny heart behind your name, the blurry photo of you together was the first of the many screenshots Yelena sent Natasha. You had to admit that the photo was pretty cute and made you feel all warm inside but that was before reading the countless headlines.

"I thought we were safe yesterday!" She started pacing again. The frustration on her face was something you noticed instantly. You stood there nervous, not knowing how to feel about everything. There weren't paparazzi's here so you should still be safe in a way.

"Nat look, we tried our best among the thousands of people that were on the streets. I know it only took one to recognize you but we are still lucky that the photo is very blurry to even make out my face." You tried to see the positive side of the situation. "And now when we go outside together then well I guess I have to wear a cap and sunglasses too. But I don't mind that as long as I'll have you."

She stopped in her tracks as she needed to be still in order to analyzing your face. The sigh you heard from her sounded defeated, you can only imagine what she must be feeling like. "I don't want you to hide yourself just to be with me but if that's the only way not to drag you into this public shit.. god this is so fucked up!"

"We just have to lay low for the next couple of days. And after that we just need a cover."

"What if I cut and die my hair?"

"W-what?" You wouldn't mind seeing a new hairstyle on her but it still shocked you.

"Nobody would recognize me of I cut my hair short and die it blonde. I always wanted to try it out and this is the perfect opportunity for it."

"Are you sure Natasha?" She nodded. "Okay uhh one of my co-worker's husband a hairdresser. They're both always discreet with things. I could ask her tomorrow at work."

"You'd really do that?" You nodded. "Then yes please ask her." She walked over to you and gave you a kiss. "Thank you." Once again you only nodded your head. Suddenly your stomach grumbled loudly, you had yet to eat something before starting dinner. Natasha playfully scolded you for not having eaten yet. You then took an apple and ate it in front of her. "Do you want to stay for dinner?" She hesitantly agreed your invitation. "Okay good. I need to go to the grocery store though. Wanna stay here or come with me?"

"I think it's best to stay, if that's alright with you?" You assured her that it was fine and to make herself feel at home. Grocery shopping didn't take long but you came back to Natasha sitting in your reading chair with your fluffy blanket and a book in her hand. A cup of hot coffee or tea and a lit candle were on the small wooden table next to her. The sight of her melted your heart and since it seemed like she hadn't heard you coming in, you took the chance to secretly take a photo of her. After looking if the photo came out good you proceeded putting all the groceries in the kitchen.

Then you were leaning against your bookcase that was near her. "How's the book?" You asked softly, not wanting to startle her. She immediately put a piece of paper in the book and closed it. "It's amazing." Her attention was fully on you.

You smiled at her answer. "I'm glad to hear it. That's one of my favorites."

"I figured." She replied. "You have a lot of different editions of the book and you even put those post it notes in it." She pointed to the colorful index makers you had put in it. And since you loved annotating every book you read, you had your stuff for that in a small box on your shelf.

"I'm usually very picky and cautious of giving other people my books but if you're certain that you want to finish the book then I'll even allow you to annotate it too." You came closer and pointed to the markers. She was thinking about it before something else came to her mind. Natasha decided to snatch your hand and pulled you onto her lap. She then gently put the book onto the table. "I might want to finish something else first." The woman told you as she leaned towards your face.

"Something or someone?" You asked while watching her eye movement closely. She sighed and rested her forehead against yours. "You're driving me crazy."

"What if we just decide to have sex?" You asked boldly. "I mean we're both adults with clear conscious of what we'd do. We also went on a date already.. so what do you say?" She sighed. "I don't want your first time to be rushed. I'm afraid that one day you'll regret losing your virginity to me." Her concern was heart warming and instead of answering as softly as her you needed to make it more jokingly. "Aren't first times always something you regret?" You raised your brow.

"Let's wait and see if you still find me attractive with short and dyed hair." She countered back. You gave her a sad smile. "Not gonna lie, I'll miss your red hair." You rested your arms on her shoulders and put your hands in the nape of her neck playing with her hair. "I definitely need a photo of us where you still have your red hair."

"You have that paparazzi or rather fan photo." That was true but it wasn't the same. "But it doesn't show my pretty side." You pouted.

"You have a pretty side? Since when?" She joked. You put your hand over your heart. "Man this is cruel. My confidence took a hard hit from your words."

"Let me make it up to you with a kiss." She said before she kissed you gently.

"I need more than one kiss." She was about to kiss you again when your stomach announced itself. You kissed her quickly before standing up. "Apparently my body need me more than I need kisses. Sorry! I really should start dinner."

"Now this is what you call cruel." She groaned while you giggled.

Natasha went back to reading as you cooked dinner. You did a simple creamy tuscan chicken pasta for her. If you had more time you would have made Csirke Paprikás (Chicken Paprikash) but the spaetzle for that dish take a while to make. Maybe you could invite her to stay over the weekend and surprise her with the delicious food.

When you were finished cooking, you set the table and called Natasha to come. Both of you made light conversation over the food that the redhead seemed to love. As it was getting later she said her goodbyes and thanked you again for dinner. For the first time in a long time you slept like a rock that night.

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The next day around 12 pm Natasha received a text message from you, telling her that the hairdresser husband had some free time and could squeeze the redhead in if she was sure to really cut and dye her hair.

Natasha was very conflicted if she really should do it but she knew she had to choose quick so she didn't think about it too long before she texted you her answer.

Cancel it. I have a better idea.

You didn't hear another word from her that day and half of the following day. Shortly after she knew your work day were over she asked via text message if she could come over. You texted her back, saying she was welcome anytime. So it wasn't a surprise to see her in your apartment when you arrived home. "How'd get in?" You asked her as you studied Natasha. She still had her red hair and it was also still the same length as before.

"Picked your lock." Then she shrugged like it was nothing. You closed the door behind you before taking off your shoes and walking further in the room. "I need to buy a better lock then. So.. you haven't changed your hair."

She hummed and nodded in agreement. With slow but steady steps she was quick to be right in front of you. "Something constantly reminded me the sad and longing expression you had on your when I said I'd change it up." That was only part of the whole truth. She couldn't never admit the other part out loud. She'd come off too strong otherwise.

"You should do what feels right for you and not get influenced by others." You told her. "Though I'm actually a tiny bit glad you're still a redhead."

"You sure are into redheads huh?" You blushed deeply since she was spot on. "I'm flattered."

"Y-you're flattered? When you look like that." You looked up and down her whole figure. "Like a - like a literal goddess and I look like a potato!" She leaned towards your ear, feeling the hot air that was her breath, it gave you goosebumps and as soon as her raspy voice hit your eardrums you got weak in the knees. "Potatoes might look average to some people but once you change them into fries, those 'potatoes' are suddenly pretty popular."

"You're seriously comparing this with actual potatoes??" She nodded. "Yeah why not?"

"Because that doesn't make me feel less flustered." You admitted quietly while she smirked at your confession. "Oh my, Y/N does this little teasing actually turn you on?"

"How couldn't it? I mean with a voice like yours..! Anyways -" You tried to change the direction of the conversation but she cut you off. "No, no don't change the topic on me now this is too interesting. Tell me, what are things that turn you on?"

"You can't be serious Nat."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" She looked so serious that it kinda frightened you. "I uhh-" Your brain was empty, you didn't come up with anything. "You put me on the spot and now I can't think of anything!" Natasha giggled, she loved the affect she had on you. "Enough about me, what is something that turns you on?"

"The other person being dominant especially in a domestic environment. And when someone plays with my hair." She clears her throat and looked away after she said the last sentence. The woman had said the other reason that she swore she wouldn't admit out loud of why she did not cut her hair cut. You gasped as you realized exactly that. "I guess there are more things but I-" You cut her off with a short unexpected kiss. Natasha thought she'd be embarrassed after admitting something so personal but she didn't feel that way. It was because you didn't judge her, there was no need for judgement in your eyes. She leaned her forehead against yours as she took in the needed comfort you gave her. You saw her relaxing even more when your arms went around her shoulder and your fingers curled in her hair. "I guess your voice is the biggest turn on for me. The different tones of your voice when you talk, especially your teasing voice has just something.. I don't know how to explain it but let's just say the range of your voice is sexy as fuck. But don't get me wrong, I can and do appreciate your voice simply as it is without getting turned on! I don't want you to think that I sexualize anything you do or say."

"Thank you for being honest and treating me like I'm human." With the way she talked you assumed that most people didn't treat her well and that broke your heart. You were lucky that people weren't cat calling you on streets so you can only imagine how much worse it must be for women who are as stunning as Natasha and also who were in the public eye constantly. "Fuck everyone who doesn't treat you like human! You are not a puppet, you are not a robot or some toy to be played with! You and every other single woman are human beings that simply should be treated like any other human being." You took a deep breath to calm you down. "The idea that just popped into my head is ridiculous. I wanted to show you how you should be treated.. with sex but that's not the only way to demonstrate being treated right or be intimate with one another. So my dear Natasha Romanoff, what does your heart desire? Do you like flowers? Chocolate? Or books? Some people like CD's and Vinyls better. I'd even buy jewelry if you're into that? I'd even make those self made 'friendship' bracelets for us even though I don't have patience for that type of stuff."

"Your consideration is very heart warming Y/N." You felt her playing with the hem of your shirt. It made you think that she was a bit nervous. "I honestly don't know if I like to be showered with so much affection. I had a rough childhood with a much more difficult teenage hood so maybe a hug is all I need right now."

And so you hugged her for a long time. Turned out you needed a hug as badly as she did too. After a while you both moved to the couch and cuddled. At some point though you had the urge to hold Natasha in a spooning position. She agreed when you asked if it were possible to spoon for some minutes. Those few minutes turned into 30 minutes of enjoying each other's closeness. That half an hour was intimate and it somewhat bonded you both in a way you couldn't describe. "Are you ready to get up?" You asked as you planted a kiss on her shoulder. She turned her head as much as she could towards you. "5 more minutes?" You nodded and quickly stole a kiss from her. "I hope you don't mind me stealing so many kisses from you. Also in those five minutes you requested, could be switch positions? I wanna be hold by you now." You pouted with your mouth like a little puppy.

"Your kisses are always unexpected but I let it slide since they're nice." She then turned her body with her hands on you, ushering you to do the same. You groaned at the sudden warmth change but turned around anyways. The arm that was looped around your waist had a nice comfortable weight and you almost didn't want to change that if you hadn't schemed another plan already. You wanted her hand to rest somewhere else, somewhere where it'd be more cozy, and that would be your boobs. You grabbed her hand and lead it up your t-shirt until the palm of her hand was touching your breasts. "This is so much better." It was the only thing you said. Not even a minute later, you felt soft pressure as she had started to groped your boob gently. The bra you wore was holding back a lot but from everything that you did feel was simply heavenly. "If only I were naked." You uttered the words with an almost inaudible moan. To tease you even further Natasha began to leave warm - nearly wet kisses on your neck. "Oh fuck, don't stop please." The pleading was now turning on the redhead. She never thought that being a little submissive would be so sexy. "Sweet Jesus I'm in heaven."

"We've barely even started yet Detka and you're acting all on edge already." She mused. You groaned again but this time at the little embarrassment you felt. "It was one moan! Don't judge me for something you are doing to me." The redhead grinned then dove back into kissing you. She lulled a few more moans out of you before she stopped. "The 5 minutes are over. Let's get our butts up and do something productive."

"If your 'productive' isn't making sweet love in the bedroom then no thank you."

"Do you own a strap on or a vibrator?" You shook you head. "Then we won't make sweet love in your bedroom."

"Why are you trying to find an excuse right now? You of all people know that we don't need that to have fun. You have ten wonderful functioning fingers and big mouth to use. Not only that but scissoring, tight riding, abs riding exist."

The Widow looked embarrassed to the ground while trying to find the courage to tell you the truth. She huffed before speaking up. "I have scars."

"Scars? That's it? Wow that makes you really so inhuman I'm scared." You joked which you then realized was the false move since you saw Natasha visibly tense. "I'm- I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. Look, we all have scars. Either visible ones or hidden inside of us but those just show us how human we are, that we're not invincible." You took her hands into your. "Nat, having scars doesn't mean you're damaged or ugly. It means you survived the worst and shows how strong you are. And besides the point, I find scars so incredible sexy that I'd fall to my knees and worship every little one you have." She smiled at that before her lips crashed into yours. Hot and wet kisses were happening followed by a swift move of her lifting you up by your ass that got you wrapping your legs around her waist. Before you even knew it your back hit the mattress and your hands were pinned above your head. Her mouth wandered around your whole body, later followed by her hands that left not spot undiscovered.

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