Natasha Romanoff + Text Posts

A Case of You

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: A soft angst kinda one shot. Reader used to date Natasha and gets a call from her during the night. Mentions alcohol and toxic past relationships.

She called you in the night. You answered. You always answered, but it felt dirty. 

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Summary: Facing the threat of deportation to her home country Russia, book editor Natasha Romanoff comes to an agreement with her assistant to get married. With that, comes a visit to the assistants hometown and meeting all of her family. Can they fool everyone that they’re in love? Will they have to pretend for the rest of their lives?

Tags: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Natasha Romanoff Fic, Natasha Romanoff Fanfic, Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow Fic, Movie Fic, The Proposal (2009), Reader has Daddy Issues, Natasha is Readers Boss, Fake Marriage, Fake Dating, Meeting Family,

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Sex, Marriage?, Daddy Issues, Boss x Assistant,

Word Count: 3.4K

Taglist: @timmyslover (please ask to join through asks or message me!) Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series :)

A/N: this fic is based on the 2009 movie The Proposal with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds. some of the events have been changed to fit Natasha and to make it easier for me lol. please please leave comments or come scream at me about it :)) i’m actually estatic about this fic istg. also i’m seeing spider-man for the first time today wish me luck. just got my booster shot so i’ll exercise my arm while wiping tears

The Proposal Chapter One

Working for Natasha Romanoff is hard on a normal day. On a day like today, it’s absolute hell. You woke up later because the power in the building went out sometime in the night. Which leaves you where you are now, rushing around your apartment, looking for anything you can put on. There’s one clean dress shirt hanging in the closet, and you find the slacks you wore yesterday on the floor. They look clean enough, so you put them on, hopping around on one foot frantically while putting on one shoe.

You practically run to the Starbucks that’s close to where you work. Kate, the barista, already has your drinks made.

“You’re a lifesaver, Kate.”

“Don’t forget it,” she calls back with a smile.

You go as fast as you think you can with hot coffee, yelling apologies behind you at the people you bump into.

The elevator doors shut behind you just as you make it into them.

“Just in time,” you say to yourself, casting glances and awkward smiles at the people next to you. As soon as you hear the ding for your floor, you get again start hauling ass to Natasha’s office. Unfortunately, because that’s how today is going to be apparently, you crash into someone, spilling coffee down the front of your shirt.

A string of curses falls from your lips as you help the man up. Your shirt has dark stains all down the front. You’re pretty sure it’s not something Natasha will accept in her office.

You walk down the row of desk and stop in from of the first person you see that’s wearing something you can match with and not look like you picked a random shirt.

“I’ll give you company seats to the New York Avengers if you give me your shirt. You have five seconds to agree.” You start counting, and they run to the bathroom to change. You follow, thanking them profoundly along the way.

You rush to Natasha’s office, getting there right before she does. When Natasha walks in, you’re waiting by her desk, coffee in hand. She curtly thanks you and sits down at her desk, going through her paperwork.

She’s wearing a dark blue dress with a matching belt. Her hair is pinned back in the illusion of a simple bun, but you know how long she probably spent doing it. You’ve never seen her hair down. You know better than to ask.

“Your immigration lawyer called,” you say quickly, wanting to get this part of the day out of the way and go back to your desk.

“Cancel the appointment. And add open up my schedule on that weekend in September we talked about. Fury has decided to do Oprah.”

“Fury decided or you worked your persuasive magic on him and made the decision for him?”

“They’re the same thing,” she dismisses.

“Right. You have a conference call with Steve Rogers in 37 minutes and a staff meeting at 9:00. Also, someone called about the winter release for-“

“Tell then it is what it is and that if they think I can change time they should pay me more.”

“I’ll tell them politely no.”

“Waste of time,” she mutters. You’re about to leave when you remember that you have one more think to ask about.

“Did you have the chance to read the manuscript I sent you?” you ask, standing on the opposite side of Natasha’s desk.

“I started it, but I lost interest fairly quickly. Nothing really impressive about it.”

You start to exit the room and relax a little bit at your desk, but Natasha calls you back.

“Wait. Who is Kate and why does she want me to call her?”

You turn around slowly, meeting Natasha’s uninterested gaze. “That was mine. Yours spilled.”

“You drink a lavender latte with almond milk and foam?”

“Yes,” you say convincingly. “It tastes like summertime in my mouth,” you end lamely, your statement sounding much more like a question.

“Hm. It’s strange, because that’s my exact drink order. You wouldn’t possibly be ordering my drink for yourself in case you spill one of them because you’re scared shitless of what would happen. No, that would make you very much pathetic.”

That’s actually exactly what you do. She knows it. You know it. You should admit it. But what comes out of your mouth instead is: “Of course not. I just really like lavender coffee.”

“Mhm. The phones are ringing. Go do your job and answer it.”

“You got it.”

Again, before you leave she calls out to you. “Oh, one more thing. There’s a book fair this weekend that I need you to go to with me.”

“This weekend?” you ask.

“Yep,” she says, popping the p loudly. “Is that a problem?” Yes.

“No.”

You spend a while at your desk, taking calls and filing through the manuscripts that Natasha thinks are worth her time. You make sure to check the simple things like format and grammar, outlining them in red pen so she doesn’t have to do it.

Being an editor has always been your dream job. Growing up, books had been your form of escape from the overwhelming weight of your family. They led you through good times and bad, and gave you something to look forward to during the worst. Being Natasha’s assistant gives you an amazing opportunity to be just that, if you can make it.

You’re interrupted from a thrilling story when the phone rings.

“Ms. Romanoff’s office, how can I help you?“

“There’s my baby,” a familiar voice says.”

“Hi, Mom. I’m at work, is everything okay?”

“You sound stressed? Is that devil woman working you too hard again?” she frets. You can hear her frown.

“When is she not? Look, mom, I needed to talk to you anyway. I can’t come to Grammy’s birthday this weekend.”

“What?” You have to hold the phone away from your ear, wincing at the sudden volume of her voice. “You already bought tickets. You promised you would be here.”

“Yeah, well plans changed. It was nothing I could control.”

“Put your boss on the phone. I have a few choice words for her.”

“If only I could”- you look up to see Natasha walking over to your desk-“offer you a better deal, but unfortunately our prices are set. Goodbye.” You hang up the phone and turn to Natasha.

“Was that your mom?” she asks, walking down the aisle.

“Yep.”

“Did she want to kill me like usual?”

“Yep. She’s mad you’re making me miss Gammy’s 90th birthday.”

“Good. Consistency is key.” She stops at the door marked for D. Dreykov, knocking and pushing the glass door open.

“Ms. Romanoff, it’s good to see you,” acknowledges Dreykov, putting down his drink. With a vague sense of puzzlement you notice that it’s whiskey.

“It’s fucking eight thirty in the morning,” you murmer, low enough so Dreykov doesn’t hear. You’re pretty sure Natasha does, but she hides her smile by turning away. Even if she wasn’t, you’re going to pretend she does just to annoy her.

“You as well. How are you?” she ventures, looking pointedly at his glass.

“The same. You?“

“I can’t complain,” says Natasha, turning to a huge wooden armoire in the corner of the room.

“Is it new?” she inquires, tracing it with her fingers.

“It’s an eighteenth century piece,” he brags. “But to my office, yes it is new. You can't come here to talk about furniture, Ms. Romanoff. How can I help you?” You brace for what comes next. Knowing Dreykov, this isn’t going to go well.

“You’re fired,” Natasha says bluntly, no look of sympathy on her face. It’s a face you never hope to see looking at you.

“You better be joking,” laughs Dreykov.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“You’re overreacting. You got Fury to do the show anyway.”

“Am I? You have two months to find yourself a new job. Everyone will be told that you resigned.” With that, Natasha walks out, you right behind her.

“What’s the update? How’s he looking?” she asks, questioning you about Dreykov’s reaction. You look back and see Dreykov pacing around the room.

“Fuming. Trying to decide if he’s going to come over here.”

“Shit. Don’t do it, Dreykov. It’s the wrong move.”

“He’s doing it.”

“Damn it.” Natasha turns around to see Dreykov coming towards her.

“You bitch,” he seethes. “You fired me because you thought I was better than you! You’re threatened by me, so you took me out. This has nothing to do with the Fury interview.” His voice raises volume, attracting interested stares from the people in the office. The same people who are quick to look away whenever Natasha starts speaking.

Calmly, she explains. “You’re right. I didn’t fire you because of Fury. That would be pointless and putting my own neck on the line. I fired you because, not only are you lazy and an asshole, you treat everyone in this office, including me, your boss, like they owe you something just for being in your presence. You show up late, drink all day, and turn in shitty work. And, frankly, I just don’t like you. So there you go. That’s why you got fired. If I hear another word I’m going to have my assistant over there call security to escort you out. Looks like you won’t be resigning after all.”

He starts to speak, but Natasha cus him off. “Not another word.” Her eyebrows raise, almost challenging him to speak again. He doesn’t. Instead, he storms off to his room like a child.

“Upstairs called my office directly. I’ll have to go up there in”-Natasha checks her watch-“five minutes. After ten in the room, I want you to make up an excuse and come get me. We have to much to do.”

“Sure thing.” Natasha heads the opposite direction while you go back to your desk. The office relaxes significantly as she leaves, people starting to talk about what just happened. You almost hear a sigh of relief sweep across the office when she’s gone.

You wait ten minutes, answering one call and sitting there the rest of the time. Then, you take the elevator to the next floor, deemed by everyone “the upstairs.” At the end of the hallway is a large office with huge windows.

You pop your head into the door of the office and are met with an immediate call to get out. Such polite people.

“Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen. Natasha, I have Sam Wilson on the phone for you. I told him to call back later, but he insists that it’s important and cannot wait.” You expect her to come with you like she always does when she tells you to do this, but she doesn’t move. She just stares at you, then looks back at her bosses, then back at you.

She mouths something to you that you can’t decipher. She does it again, and motions for you to go stand next to her.

“I understand the situation that I’m currently in, that’s why I think it’s important that you know…”

She puts her arm around your shoulders awkwardly and announces: “We’re getting married.”

“Who is?” you question, a fake smile on your lips.

“Us. Me and you. The lovebirds of the office,”she says through her teeth.

“Uh, right,” you turn to her bosses and smile at them, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.

“You know, she’s just so…” Natasha trails off, looking at you.

“I feel like it shouldn’t take that long to think of an adjective,” you mutter.

“Honest,” bites Natasha sweetly. “She’s honest to me. It was all those late nights together and early mornings, you really see the worst of each other. But that couldn’t stop us, could it sugarbear?” Sugarbear? Really? You send an unamused look at Natasha, who smiles pointedly back at you.

“Sure, honeycomb,” you grimace at the endearment, hoping it doesn’t sound half as ridiculous as you think it does. “We just couldn’t help ourselves from the attractive pull.”

“Something simply happened between us that I can’t explain,” concludes Natasha.

“Something definitely happened. And there’s definitely no logical explanation,” you agree.

“Is this-this is what you want, right? This is good?” Natasha motions between the two of

you, looking at the two men in front of you. They’re both wearing business smiles.

“Just make it official,” one says, pointing to his ring finger.

“That’s hot,” says the other. You want to punch him. You don’t think your fiancé (?) would appreciate that, though.

“Great. We’ll go to the immigration office right now and get this all sorted out. Thank you, gentlemen.”

“Of course. Ms. Romanoff, Ms…” the man at the desk trails off, giving up on remembering you name. He shrugs and goes back to his work.

“Ouch,” you murmur. You walk the rest of the way in silence, trying to figure out what’s going on. Natasha looks completely calm and in control.

Once you make it to you office, you shut the door, expecting some sort of explanation. Instead, Natasha sits down and starts working.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Do you want to tell me what that was about? Because last time I checked we aren’t engaged and very much aren’t in love.”

“I was going to be deported to Russia and fired. This makes it where that doesn’t have to happen,” she states simply.

“And why would I comply with this? No offense, but I don’t need you to have a career here,” you inquire.

“Because if you don't, do think you’re going to be fired.” You raise your eyebrows at her, and she continues. “Dreykov, who we just fired, is going to take my place. You think he’s going to keep you around? I can answer that for you. No. He’s not. So if you want to be an editor, you’ll do this.”

“Jesus fucking shit.”

“That’s quite a swear,” notes Natasha mildly. “Don’t stress about it. We’ll get married, wait for me to get my green-card, and then get a quick divorce. Easy.”

“Easy,” you repeat, not convinced. Natasha tells you to clear her schedule for today and get all the papers ready to go to the immigration office. By the time you’re done, she’s waiting at your desk for you. “Let’s get this over with. Did you make an appointment?”

“I don’t think you know how this works.”

You’re proved correct when she skips the line, cutting in front of tons of people.

“You can’t just do that,” you protest.

“I just did.” You sigh and follow her, apologizing to the people you just cut in front of.

“I need this to file for a fiancé visa, please,” she says. She slides the papers across the desk, and a man approaches.

“Ms. Romanoff?” he asks.

“Yes?” Natasha answers, looking up from her phone.

“I need you to follow me.”

She turns to you. “See, I know how to do this.” The man leads you to a small room with a table and three chairs. He sits in one and the two of you sit across from him.

“I’m Mr. Smith. And you just be her fiancé?” he asks, looking at you.

“Yes. That’s me. Natasha’s fiancé,” you say smoothly. Natasha kicks you under the table.

“We appreciate you seeing us on such short notice. It all just happened so quickly,” thanks Natasha.

“That it did,” you agree. She kicks you again.

“I just have one question to ask you, and then you can be on your way.” He turns to face you. “Are you marrying Ms. Romanoff to save her from being deported to Russia, therefore committing fraud which has a penalty of five years in prison?” You stare at him with his mouth open like an idiot. Natasha tries to speak up, but he stops her.

“Because that’s what we think you happen to be doing, let me explain the steps that you will have to go through.”

“First, we ask around. Friends and coworkers will be asked if they know anything about you. Then, we ask families. After that, we check phone records and sightings. Lastly, there’s an interview. You will be asked everything about each other. If there’s even a slight difference in your answers, Romanoff will be deported and you will be put into jail for at least five years under the charges of fraud.”

“Unfortunately, your scare tactics won’t work because I’m totally and completely in love with this woman,” says Natasha, startlingly convincingly.

“What she said,” you second, trying not to sound miserable.

“If you’re not going to cooperate, things are going to get worse.”

“Ms. Romanoff, have you told your family about the engagement?” he asks blandly.

“My birth mother is dead and even she didn’t know who my father was. My adoptive father just got out of prison in Russia and my mother is on a farm with no way to contact her,” states Natasha matter-of-factly.

“It says here that you have a sister, Yelena Belova.”

“I haven’t seen her in years.”

“Are you currently in contact with her?“

“Yes, but we don’t talk about our dating lives,” Natasha says.

“What about you, ma’am? Have you told your family?”

You try to stutter out an answer, but nothing of substance comes out. You look at Natasha, hoping for a lifeline.

She rolls her eyes at you. “We were going to tell her family this weekend. It’s Grammy’s birthday.”

“How old is she turning?”

“90. Right, baby?” Natasha asks you. You nod.

“That’s a big one. She can’t come here. Where does Grammy live?”

You’re completely positive that Natasha doesn’t know this. “Why am I answering all the questions? It’s her family,” laughs Natasha effortlessly.

“My family is from Sitka. Everyone but me lives there.”

“Fine. Friends? Do any of them know? Or does anyone at your work know?”

“We couldn’t tell them because…” Natasha looks at you for help.

“Because of my big promotion. I was going to be promoted to editor next year, which was a decision made before we started dating, and we didn’t want people to think-“

“Right,” he cuts you off. Mr. Smith sighs and tells you that you can go. “I’m warning you, though. I’ll make sure that this is real.”

“God forbid the book editors start taking over America,” mutters Natasha. “Thank you for your cooperation,” she calls back at Mr. Smith, flipping him off.

You walk quickly out of the building, Natasha right on your heels.

“We’re going to have to push back all of our meetings for this weekend. Can you call Steve and tell him? And we need to get a first class plane for today to Sitka. And get me the vegan meal, last time I had this terrible chicken salad,” says Natasha.

“I’m sorry, were you not in the same meeting as me? I could go to jail for doing this, and the only reason I am is so I probably don’t get fired,” you exclaim, halting your walking.

“Well, what do you want?” she asks impatiently.

“I want to be an editor.”

“I’m not promoting you to editor,” she laughs.

“Then I’m not doing this. Being your assistant for the next few years isn’t worth the possibility of jail. Have fun in Russia.”

“Fuck,” she groans. “Fine. Welcome to the fucking team.”

“And I want my manuscript published.”

“Ten thousand copies,” she agrees.

“And if I’m going to do this, you’re going to have to ask me nicely.”

“Fine. Marry me,” she says flatly.

“You can do better than that. Come on, get down on a knee and ask me to marry you.”

“I’m not doing that,” she hisses.

“Have fun in Russia, Natasha,” you reply cheerily, starting to walk away.

“Jesus. Okay, okay! I’ll do it.” Muttering insults under her breath, she slowly gets down on her knees. “Dearest love, will you marry me? Nothing would make me happier.”

“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, but I accept,” you say.

“You don’t really have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” you say lightly.

“Is it really a choice when one of the options is absolutely shitty?” she questions, still on the ground.

“Sure it is. I’ll see you at the airport.”

“You’re not going back to work?” she stands up clumsily, her skirt getting caught on her heel. It’s one of the only times you’ve seen her not the epitome of perfection. It’s almost endearing. It would be more so if she wasn’t asking you about work, but you’ll take baby steps.

“Fuck no. I’ve earned the day off. Bye sugarbear.”

“Piss off, homeycomb.”

good morning little gay people in my phone

notes- am I making this a wandanat fic? Who knows! I'm just having fun with the story right now but I'm always open to suggestions and requests. I hope you enjoy, happy reading! Xxx

Overview- you are a high ranking Hydra agent but you want out. What will happen when a group of heroes you have tried to take down take you under their wing. They say, love is an unpredictable force and you might just find it here.

So wrong it's right

part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Part five-

Bruce and Tony were rigging you up to several machines for testing whilst Steve and wanda watched on anxiously.

The fluorescent lighting of the lab mixed with all the loud chattering gave you a splitting headache. Wanda had picked up on it immediately and began to rub soothing patterns into your skin. “Your eyes are glowing” she whispered gently while you leaned into her touch.

Her warm touch and soothing words grounded you. You sighed contently and kept your eyes trained on hers, causing the blue glow to fade away. “Good” she hummed as the light diminished.

“Wanda, how did you just do that?” tony marvelled from beside a machine you were hooked up to. “I didn't do anything” wanda replied mirroring his confusion. “Y/N had enough power around her to light up half of new york and as soon as you touched her it disappeared. Meaning you either absorbed it or bootleg Elsa here can create and destroy energy as she pleases.”

“Electricity... Power.... Energy. THATS IT TONY! The powers surfaced after being exposed to the arc reactor and since we can safely assume that she was tested on in some capacity while with hydra, We can deduce that y/n was exposed to a power similar to the arc reactor which gave her the powers. This leaves us with three big questions, what was this power source? Why is her power fabricated through ice and water? And why would hydra train her as an assassin if they knew she had the power of element bending.” Bruce interjected before typing frantically on a pop-up screen.

“Well, before I froze the entire tower I had a vision of myself being pushed into a snowstorm by a scientist but that's all I saw. No technology like the arc reactor” you replied from the examination chair.

“If we can trigger another one of these visions, then we can learn more about the power” Bruce replied with determination. The whole room turned to you expectantly. “I don't know how I did it, I was just talking to nat and then next minute I'm watching myself being experimented on” you sputtered while your mind was in a spin with all the new information.

“I could try to look ?” Wanda asked calmly. Bruce and tony agreed without hesitation but she waited patiently for your response.

You nodded hesitantly, despite steve’s interjections.

Her warm hands now buzzed with power as they touched your head. She was scarily concentrated as she rummaged around your mind. Silence filled the room for several minutes before she leaned away and her power faded.

“I could only find some doctors notes, they were fuzzy and hard to read but i could make out some important pieces.

‘Subject 246

The subject is responding to experimentation well; just as hypothesised she is beginning to control electricity as well as the previously discovered water elemental magic. It seems the more energy we expose her to, the more her power progresses.

I have approved phase three of testing

Be cautious when interacting with the subject, the testing has provided her with an unprecedented amount of intelligence.

The rest was too hard to read.” she informed the group curiously

Steve made his way to you and began to pull of the wires and pads littering your body. “Thats enough. Go and rest before training” he ordered and the room erupted into loud arguing. It wasn't clear whether the argument was actually because of your predicament or if something was underlying between tony and Steve.

“She's just a kid! You're making her relive her torture, in the pursuit of what? Your own knowledge?!”

“Stay out of it rogers, this is not your war”

The shouts echoed through the corridors as you wandered out of the lab. You began to slowly make your way towards the bathroom for a much needed thoughtful shower.

There was so much for you to ponder as you stood under the rainfall of hot water. Electricity? It seemed out of the realm of possibility but so did water bending until last week. Your trip to the lab had opened so many questions, where did this all come from? What else could've had energy similar to the arc reactor?

“Youve been in there for an hour, can you get out? I need to shower before training” Natasha called from outside your bathroom. Her cries were accompanied by several knocks that were far too forceful

With a huff you turned off the shower and made your way to the door with your towel wrapped safely around u. Steam billowed into your cold room as you opened the door to reveal an impatient nat.

“don’t you have your own shower” you asked angrily. She rolled her eyes in response as if you were supposed to know why she was trying to use yours. “Yes, I have my own shower but it is broken. Obviously.” she replied shortly.

You pushed past her into your own room and allowed her access to the bathroom. “Thanks, frosty” she mocked before shutting the door of your bathroom in your face. The nickname almost felt like a dare to you, daring you to turn her shower ice cold.

The slight irritability she had sparked in you began to conjure up a small ball of icy blue tendrils that pushed their way towards the shower. You could have stopped you magic but you didn't want to. You allowed your magic to enchant the showerhead and cause the water to drop to just above freezing.

To your dismay, no reaction came from Natasha. Not a word.

Defeatedly you pulled on a combat suit Tony had provided for you and waited for Nat to finish. She was in there for barely five minutes before she came bounding out in just her underwear.

“I would've asked you to help keep me warm in there but it seems you're the reason it was cold in the first place” she accused whilst several drops of water fell from her hair. You stayed silent as you watched her muscles tense and relax as she pulled on her suit.

“Hello?!?” she called, bringing you out of your trance.

“I didn't make your shower cold” you feigned offence at her comment and did your best to cover up your staring. She grabbed your hand and held it up to your face revealing a familiar layer of frost “yes you did” she replied coldly before dropping your hand forcefully.

“Training ladies, I have a surprise I think you're going to love” Steve poked his head into the room to give a playful wink before sprinting towards the gym. Nat followed close behind him and reluctantly you pulled yourself up to follow.

Okay, I've been noticing some tension between some of us so for the next twenty-four hours we are going to be stuck with the person we have the weakest connection with. Meaning that for better or for worse the couples will be as follows: Tony and me, Thor and the big guy, vision and clint and finally wanda, nat and y/n will be in a trio”

Natasha starred daggers into Steve as he revealed we would be stuck together but wanda didn't seem even slightly phased by the instruction. You gave Tony a pleading look, hoping that he would overrule the captains instruction but instead he just laughed hysterically and clapped steves back. The three of you stood in an awkward silence for several minutes as the severity of the situation settled in.

“So, what now ?” You asked awkwardly. Natasha whirled towards you in response and punched you square in the face. “Combat” she chuckled as you stumbled backwards into wanda.

It took you a few moments to compose yourself before your flipped towards her and kicked hard into her side. She yanked your leg up from her waist, with an ironclad grip. You used your other leg to propel yourself onto her shoulder. With your thighs wrapped around her neck you flipped and slammed the both of you into the padded floor below. You both hit the floor with a hard thud, leaving you winded and bruised.

Natasha didn't give up though she forced herself up through ragged breath and pounced on your injured body. You winced in pain as she pinned you into the floor, grabbing both of your arms as she went.

“That was for ruining my shower” she growled into the closing space between your faces.

Your free legs kicked forward bringing both of you up from the floor. Natasha’s thighs were still gripped around your waist as you landed but she immeadiatly flipped backwards creating a small distance between you.

Almost instantly, Natasha came barrelling towards you and kicked into your stomach with both feet. You flew into the wall behind you sending a horrifying symphony of cracking throughout the room. The pain of the impact caused you to slump lifelessly on the floor and clutch your wounds.

A slow clap began to ring from behind the both of you. Wanda leaned against the wall behind Natasha with a devilish smirk. “Impressive Natasha but you should ask before breaking what's mine”

You and Nat both shared the same look of worry as wandas hands began to glow with her Scarlett power.

Nats face flew away from yours as she was slammed into the roof of the training room. A shower of plaster fell down on you and you watched nat squirm under the force of wandas power. Tight ropes of the crimson magic were holding her precariously up above you.

Looking back at wanda, she was now enthralled in her own magic and you couldn’t help but stare in awe as her hands moved so addictively. She met your eyes with a seductive grin for a split second before flicking her magic away.

Natasha came falling down from the ceiling.

Instinctively you threw your hands up and a pressurised stream of water spilt out of your palm. It cushioned around Natasha instantly and held her in the air a few metres from your face.

Everyone watched in awe as the stream of water held her effortlessly. As you realised what you had done you began to drop the pressure and let Natasha reach the ground gently.

Both you and Natasha were drenched in your own water while wanda wiped a few droplets from her brow. The training room shared a similar fate as water pooled on the padded ground below.

You rushed to nat to make sure she was okay after the fall but she just brushed you off coldly and made her way towards wanda. You thought she was going to do something to wanda but instead she just pushed right past her causing Wanda to smirk triumphantly.

You summoned a strong gust of wind that swept all the water away with it, leaving the training room as if nothing had ever happened.

“I think thats enough training for today” Steve commented in utter shock as he looked between the two of you.

When you and wanda turned to see where Natasha had gone the entire group stared back at you in shock and awe.

Hours after the training room altercation, you were enjoying some much needed time in starks workshop. You were trying to do some calculations to hopefully find some sort of power source like the arc reactor but of course none of them could compare.

“Hey kid, you okay?” Tony asked kindly as he stepped into the workshop. You continued to tap away at the hologram in front of you “yea, trying to find a lead on the stuff banner was talking about” you replied absently. Stark began to roam over your many calculations with concern. Lines of information, diagrams and calculations decorated the entire workshop yet none seemed to have the answers you were looking for.

He pulled you away from the screen you were working on and began to close many of the other screens crowding his workshop. As the glow.from the screens left the room, the bright moonlight began to filter in. Without even realising you had worked right into the night.

“Bruce and I will figure this out I promise” he smiled kindly before pulling up a new screen for you which showed a model of you. “If you want to stay here then you can begin designing your suit but no more calculations!” he said cheerfully.

You complied, not wanting to leave the serenity of the workshop. The suit designing was far more enjoyable than the calculations and you found yourself genuinely enjoying it.

Your model was now in a tight navy blue suit and you began to start some calculations that would determine whether or not you needed the arc reactors power. Stark however closed your pop up screen with the calculations in an almost fatherly manner. “I’ll do the math, you just design” he scolded lightly.

“I thought I'd find you two in here. Cap wants you both back upstairs immediately” Nat ordered coldly as she leaned in the doorway.

“Romanoff! We're working, so unfortunately we cannot join your boyfriend's little rendezvous upstairs “ stark quipped back.

“Y/N is playing dress-up and you are masturbating over your own technology. Upstairs now!” she ordered again before sauntering out.

“Always a delight” stark mumbled jokingly and you both headed upstairs.

I love ur

I love ur too lols 😎/j

blood kink nat blood kink nat blood kink n

warnings: blood kink, implied violence. NSFW

Shakily, you stood in front of Natasha with blood dripping from your arms. The silence was unbearable and your thoughts ran and ran until they couldn’t anymore.

But your lover stood still in front of you with wide eyes and a silent mouth. She didn’t judge. She didn’t say anything. Instead, once she found the courage to step towards you, she drags you into the bathroom where the sight of yourself in the mirror makes you whimper.

Natasha caresses your painted cheek, cooing gentle sayings as she sat you under the shower. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t move. Natasha joined you shortly and when the water touched your skin, you shivered.

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head and then felt your lover draw your hand up, watching her as she took a bloodied finger into her mouth and licked the substance off.

Your eyes grew wide and under the wet steam of the shower, between your legs, your arousal grew with every lick and hum from your lover.

“Natasha...”

Your head fell against her bicep, watching with a curious gaze to your eyes as your fingers disappeared into her mouth; which had been bloodied but now came out clean under her tongue.

You shivered and hummed at her actions. Her tongue drawing circles against the tip of your fingers, before she pulled them out and moved on to another.

You shook under your girlfriend’s hold, her free arm gripping your wrist tightly while her eyes fluttered open to find you staring. She smiled against your hand, slightly bit at your skin before slowly and painfully slipping your fingers out of her month.

“Tastes so good, baby.”

it was neither 😔 im sorry i meant that genuinely

OH lmao my bad I'm doing okay, how are you? :)

I need more mediocre gfs please!! Maybe like Reader getting hurt in an attack like I’m curious how she would act

sure but i didnt rly do that bc nothing serious ever happens in the mediocre gfs verse<3 welcome to the circus babies<3

Your relationship isn't public in the sense that neither of you thinks it's particularly wise to advertise to Nat's long, long list of enemies that she fostered any sort of positive emotion towards any specific member of the general public. It isn't particularly wise to advertise that Nat experiences any emotions, really, since unpredictability is the name of the game. But it's okay if people know she, perhaps, might like her coworkers because her coworkers could kill someone accidentally by, like, breathing too hard or something. You, on the other hand, are entirely normal. Maybe not well-adjusted, mentally at least, but you're not an alien with super strength, nor are you a mutated superhero borne from unethical scientific experimentation. Just normal human you.

Her friends and family know, obviously, since Nat is as unrepentant and shameless as they come. She likes to flex the fact that she's not emotionally stunted enough to not be able to bag a girl, basically. You're glad, at least, that you don't have to stop yourself from throwing yourself at Nat during house parties.

Nat also likes to lounge on an armchair with you perched on her lap, looking like the cat that got the cream; she said, one time, that it makes her feel like she has a huge cock. You had rolled your eyes at that, arms looped around her neck, and assured her that her cock was, indeed, quite large. She had smirked and kissed your neck and said in that insufferable tone: "I know." And Clint, who had been sitting on a nearby couch, had made a noise of revulsion and disappeared into the kitchen so he didn't have to hear Nat and you being so annoying. The two of you were a joy, to say the least, at Avengers dinner parties.

So, it comes as a surprise to both you and Nat--and your superhero friends when they hear about it afterwards--when you're shoved into a crummy alley by gunpoint because no one is supposed to know about your relationship to her outside of your inner circles. It's also a surprise because, you know, there's a gun pointed at you by a really menacing looking dude.

You're supposed to be safe. Everyone made sure to keep your relationship under wraps. How did they find you?

He's shouting at you, but you're too panicked, fumbling with your bag and backing into the wall, to really process what he's saying. Nat, who had been on a call with you, is also yelling at you in alarm through the AirPods Pro she had gotten you as a gift. You don't know what the fuck is happening. Maybe you shouldn't walk around the city with the noise-cancelling function on.

Suddenly, she goes quiet, and you glance at your phone, seeing the call has been dropped, and so too, then, does your stomach. A heavy feeling of dread sinks into you, and you find yourself shaking.

The barrel of the gun waves closer to your face, and you let out an undignified squeak, and then the man is wrenching your phone away with a curse when he realizes you had been on a call. Now, you are paying lots of attention to the man with the gun.

He is a mugger. You are being mugged.

"Oh, thank god," you let out in a rush, basically hurling your AirPods case at him. "Here. I-I'll get my wallet, too. It's- It's in my bag."

He is taken aback by your change in attitude, clutching the case like his life depends on it. "What- Hey, lady. What the fuck?"

You nod rapidly. "Yeah. Yeah, don't worry about me. Well, you can. I mean, don't shoot me. I have to get my wallet, okay?"

"...Okay?" The gun lowers. Dark eyes blink at you through his ski mask in utter bewilderment. "I mean-" He draws the gun back up with a scowl. "Just give me the bag."

You frown now, too. You had bought Nat a sandwich. It's in there. "But..."

"Give me the fucking bag!"

"Right! Yeah! Jesus, okay," you yell out, shoving the bag towards him and flinching away when the gun once again comes too close to comfort. "I just want you to know that my girlfriend's going to be so mad at you."

He ignores you. Why would he reply, after all? He's a mugger. You're his victim blathering on about your girlfriend. Your totally regular girlfriend.

Your girlfriend, whom you have yet to spot swinging off the roof and onto the fire escape above. Until, that is, her boots hit it with a loud clang, and both of you jerk up to look.

Then, it's over for him because Nat comes down swinging with a furious look on her face, utterly silent aside from her grunts when she lands on him and throws him upside down into the dumpster. A gunshot rings out, hitting the wall far enough away from you that you don't immediately piss yourself, but it's still a gunshot, so you still jump away with a screech.

You fall into the wall, dropping your bag, and scramble on your ass towards the main street. By the time you've gotten your bearings, Nat's straddled the mugger, gun kicked far into the alley and is midway through her third punch into the guy's face.

"Nat," you gasp out, pulse racing, throbbing, really, in your temple, "Nat!"

Your cries fall on deaf ears. She's still giving this guy hell, questioning him in a tone so cold you're glad you never have to face her for real. She seems to be under the impression that he's a neo-Nazi terrorist or something.

Quickly, you crawl over, scuffing your knees on the sidewalk, and place a hand on her back. She stills, still glowering down at the crumpled mugger beneath her. But then you put your other hand on her back, and you slide them onto her shoulders, and you cling on with a shuddering sigh.

She feels safe. She feels warm and solid and real. It hadn't felt real these past few minutes, you realize belatedly, and you cling on tighter. Suddenly, there are tears in your eyes. You feel a bit stupid for them since this is something that happens every day in the city, and Nat's faced worse, and here you are, about to sob your eyes out.

In relief, though. Relief. Sweet relief in the arms of your equally shaken up girlfriend.

She plants a hand on the guy's head, forcing his nose into the cement, and slips her free arm around your hiccupping shoulders.

"It's okay," she murmurs into your hair, a strangled note to her voice. "I'm here. It's okay."

"He-He was just mugging me," you manage, stilted, and so very much in love with Nat. Acutely aware of your love for her when you feel her relax and then stiffen up and then relax again once she's registered what you said. You keep blubbering on: "You crossed four blocks in as many minutes because I was getting mugged."

"Well." She sniffs, pressing him harder into the ground and disregarding his pained moan. "Yes."

"I love you," you say around a ragged breath. Your tears are subsiding.

Nat stiffly pats your back and glances down at him. "Yes."

"You should probably call off whatever national security agency you contacted," you say after a moment.

Both of you pay the mugger's squawk no mind. Nat just nods and says, again, "Yes." She releases you to pull her phone out of her pocket, face entirely unreadable, as she does as told. "You should also apologize to Carol."

"Me?" You make a face. Shuffle closer on your knees. "Why?"

"She, uh," Nat starts, then stops with a grimace. Rolls her eyes. "There's a war happening. Like, a few galaxies away."

"Galaxies," you repeat.

"Yeah. She's probably halfway here already."

"Galaxies."

"Yeah, baby," she says into her phone as she taps away. "She says that she's glad that you're all right, but you owe her a round of drinks."

You yank her arms closer to you--or, rather, she lets you pull her phone to your face. "She says you owe her drinks."

"We owe her drinks; that's what I said," Nat says. Finally, you see the wobble of her lips. Up and down, and up again. "You... You're okay?"

You smile softly, wiping the dampness from your cheeks. "Yeah. What about you, honey?"

Nat just nods. Then, she looks down at the guy under her and gets up with an out of place grace. He instantly tries to get up and run, but Nat just steps on his back, and he goes down again.

You pry your AirPods case out of his grip and get to your feet to pick up your bag. You put your stuff back in and shuffle back to Nat, who's palming her forehead and staring at the sky.

You curl your fingers around her tense forearm, rubbing a thumb into her skin until she turns to look at you.

"I love you," you repeat.

Nat lets her lips slant upward, and she cups your cheek. "Me too. About you."

You lean into her, nosing at her shoulder with a sigh. "How did you even get here?"

Nat lets out a breathy laugh. "Breaking and entering, and parkour on top of rooftops."

"Thank you," you say after a beat.

She shakes her head, hand pressing harder into your face. "Don't thank me."

"This is, like, cute and romantic, but I think you broke my ribs and my nose," says the mugger who has since dragged himself up to sprawl against the dumpster.

"Shut up," Nat snaps. "You should be glad I didn't break more."

He huffs and crosses his arms.

You wrap your arms around Nat's waist, smiling widely into her jacket. Nat can tell, of course, because she always knows. She tangles her hands in your hair, cradling you close to her chest, as fond of you as you are of her.

"Oh," you remember suddenly, "I got you a sandwich."

The cops find the three of you like this: Nat munching on a club sandwich with you draped over her side and the mugger looking awfully put out opposite you guys.

That night, and in the days following, Nat refuses to let you leave her sight. Very awkward to wash your hands in front of the bathroom line that had all seen a stoic Nat barge her way into your stall. You wouldn't change a single thing about it.

me showing you my romantic side: I wanna go grocery shopping with you

Naughty Girls

You and your mommy, Natasha, have some fun during movie time. Until you misbehave.

Mommy kink, man handling, se*x toy usage (dildo), implied age gap, reader gets penetrated, vaginal penetration, coc*k warming, grinding, thigh riding, sex with clothes on, WLW sex, Natasha gives reader neck hickies, Reader gets called puppy, baby, honey and little girl, reader comes without permission, implied mutual consent, degradation, squirting, light begging, implied punishment, reader misbehaves, implied rules

Hurrah! I'm alive! Thank you for being patient :)💕

You do not have permission to translate and or repost this story thank you :)

Your head felt warm and fuzzy, a tingling sensation rippling up and down your spine. A warm chuckle sounded from beside you. "Is my little girl having some fun?"

The TV was still on, a natural wildlife documentary you had quickly forgotten about. You whimpered softly, still feeling dizzy and near drunk from the cock that Natasha had pushed into you. Warm wet slick smeared over your soft inner thighs, shorts and hoodie uncomfortably hot despite the cool night air.

"My baby still needs to learn some manners apparently." You could hear the smirk in her voice. "Use your big girl words, honey."

---

"Mommy-" you whined softly in frustration, hips grinding down against the sofa covers.

"Please, please."

Her arms tightly wrapped around your waist before you were settled in her lap. Mommy's knee wedged itself between your thighs, smoothly grinding against the dildo's base. Natasha's eyes were bright, pinning you in place easily. She smiled. The flickering lights from the TV wreathed her fluffy baby hairs.

The short rocking motions increased the pressure inside you, silicone ridges dragging and pushing. A needy keen escaped from your parted mouth, head falling back in pleasure.

Natasha apparently wasn't satisfied, pulling you forward onto her thigh. Her large callused hands slayed out over your waist before forcefully grinding your hips in tight circles. Mommy harshly sucked marks into your skin. Your swollen clit rubbed against soaked panties.

"Does that feel good puppy?" The coil in your tummy writhed and twisted tightly, pussy clamping against the toy. Your head felt hazy, hands clumsily fisted in Natasha's shirt.

The pleasure crested and then burst abruptly. You whined and moaned needily as your pussy clenched and fluttered against the toy, wanting more as you tried to grind down on Mommy. A warm wetness seeped out from around the toy.

Natasha's hands tightened painfully around your hips. "Little girl-" Her tone was dark yet amused. "Did I say you could cum?"

Your eyes widened when you realised your mistake. Mommy's smile grew wider.