Natasha Romanoff X Fem!reader - Tumblr Posts
Requesting Rules
please don’t send the same request to me and multiple other writers. also, please don’t request another person’s idea for me to write.
Specify who you want your request for (and the more details the better, if you have something specific in mind!)
I will try to get to your request as soon as possible, however don’t spam me if not
I try to write requests that I personally love as well, if something isn’t written it’s either cuz I haven’t had a chance to, it’s against the guidelines, or it might not speak to me in the moment and that’s ok!
What I do not write: hateful speech of any kind, pedophilia, racism, transphobia, incest, piss kinks, scat, spit kink, foot fetishes, non-consensual sex, men x reader (platonic is fine), male!reader. Under NO circumstances will I write about any of these topics. If you’re unsure if something you're thinking about requesting is something I will not write, send me a DM or ask me and I’ll gladly answer. I do not give anyone permission to repost, plagiarize, or take credit for my original work. If you see this anywhere please let me know. Reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated
Let the light in
Summary: The Avengers are separated after being hunted down and forced to live life on the low, causing a painful break up with the love of your life. What happens when she finds you again? Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader
A/N: Based off of this request
Warnings: Angst, violence, loneliness, blood, breakup, team separated, depression, kissing, comfort
Song: Let the light in- Lana Del Rey
The team sat around the dark living room, the familiar voice of one of New York's most famous news anchors echoing in through the air, “Good evening New Yorkers, today we open our headline with some shocking news: Former Stark enterprise building, located on the upper east side, exploded earlier today by a missile attack on the Avengers. Sources say Tony Stark was currently using it to house new plans for an updated Avengers training arena and larger compound. Two architects, three investors, and one security manager was injured. Two of the victims later succumbed to their injuries after the explosion. Reports confirming the source of the violence are still unknown, however the Avengers were believed to have been inside the building at the time- hence the attack. The founding members of the Avengers Initiative such as Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Thor Odinson, Y/N L/N, and Clint Barton have yet to speak out. This marks the second targeted attack on our world’s heroes in nearly a month since the Maximoff twins incident in Barbados, where Pietro Maximoff was nearly assassinated. It raises the question for us all: Are our heroes being hunted?”
The screen went black, bye bye news lady. The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop. “What’re we gonna do Tony?” You got no answer.
“Cap?”
For the first time in the decade you’d known the team, (except for the Maximoffs & Peter) you saw uncertainty in all of their eyes. Tony threw his classic sunglasses on the couch, squeezing the middle of his nose in a useless attempt to massage an oncoming headache away, “Fury… thought it’d be wise if we split up for awhile-,” he was quickly shut up with protests from the group.
“It’s too dangerous. This isn't easy for me, but we're facing a threat that's beyond anything we've encountered before. I've crunched the numbers, run simulations – the Avengers need to disband temporarily. We scatter, go off the grid, and regroup when the dust settles.”
“This is bullshit, Tony. You know it is. This is exactly what they want-”
“Tasha,” your gentle touch on her back always softened her heart, but not today. She didn’t even look at you.
“It’s not the end, Nat. It’s like a strategic retreat. We're ensuring we'll live to fight another day. For once, I’m with Stark on this. We play it safe, keep low profiles, and spread out,” Steve sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and taking a hard look at everyone, “we’re family, we keep each other safe. And this is how we do it.”
As much as the idea made your stomach churn, he was right. He always was. This was your family. Every holiday, happy memory, laugh and cry and battle and bruise was all with them. This team is how you met the love of your life. You loved each other, and if this is what needed to happen, then you’d do it.
But that didn’t sit well with your girlfriend.
“No, end of story. We’re not separating.”
“You know I don’t think it’s just you’re choice, Natasha. I mean we have to decide this together,” your fingers lightly brushed the edge of the bed, nervously playing with the soft sheets you had just bought.
“Exactly, and I. Said. No.” She was acting like a stubborn toddler that didn’t want to eat her veggies, crossing her arms and raising her voice an octave.
It was then when you saw something different in her eyes, those beautiful green orbs that held so much sadness and joy at the same time. But today they were cloudy, like a storm was brewing in her mind. You gently slipped off of the bed and stood in front of her, pressing your forehead to hers, “You know it’s going to be okay, right?” soft palms caressed the side of her cheek, immediately feeling her sigh into your touch. “It’s going to be okay, you’ll see.” You wish your words were true.
Two months later the Avengers were spreading out all across the U.S., saying choked up goodbyes and packing your things. It was agreed upon that there’d be a team meeting once a month, every month, for the next year until you could figure out who the threat was, and how to eliminate them. You thought San Francisco sounded nice, fresh, and a little more peaceful than the hustle and bustle of New York. And it was, for a time. You got a haircut, dyed your gorgeous h/c locks to a rich h/c shade. You bought a sweet little home with a bay window over looking the Golden Gate Bridge, started building an in home gym and library, and kept an extremely low profile. You finished file work and other Avengers paperwork at home, with a high security grade laptop. Natasha on the other hand, refused to dye her hair, or keep a low profile. She didn’t want to admit that she was depressed, but it was glaringly oblivious. Being thrown out of her comforting routine put a wrench in Natasha’s life that not even you, her beautiful girl, could fix. All day she would do her paperwork, workout, and just keep to herself. It was like you weren’t even girlfriends anymore. Finally, in the fifth month of living “undercover,” she finally agreed to go on a low key date with you to a small, cozy bar on the outskirts of the city. You got dressed up for the first time in what felt like forever, did your makeup real pretty, and even did braids on Natasha’s silky hair. She looked happy, finally. Adorning a brown leather jacket, dark blue jeans, and a low cut green top- her classic silver arrow necklace sitting pretty on her chest- your girlfriend looked like her old self again...absolutely perfect.
“You look gorgeous, baby,” swift arms swept you into a gentle kiss, smirking against your lips and pulling you close to her waist.
You thought that night would be perfect, but by 11 pm you two were home and icing her bloody knuckles, static tv voices echoing in the background. You felt hot tears rising to the surface, but you never let them fall. It’s not like you were just mad or angry or disappointed…no this was something more. You were embarrassed. Embarrassed by Natasha. You thought you’d never say that sentence, but then there you were, apologizing to the bartender for your girlfriend's rowdy behavior, and throwing $20 to the guy she completely knocked out before nearly carrying her out of the bar and into a cab. Within the next two weeks she packed her bags, and your home was changing once again, now empty.
8 months later
The team said that you’d only be separated for a year, or less, but you were coming up on a year pretty soon and none of you were any closer to figuring out who the threat is. But you, you moved on, strived forward, and kept going. Your breakup with Nat had been one of the most painful moments of your life, but you didn’t let it stop you. These days you hardly cried over her at all, never even thought of the old days. Well, except for last Tuesday, when you saw one of her old sweaters and lied in bed for the rest of the day, or on Thursday when you heard her favorite song and- well, never mind that. You were at the top of your fucking game.
Ms. Romanoff, on the other hand, had moved out of San Francisco completely and settled in Washington D.C. from the last you heard. She attended the monthly zooms, same as you, but you two never addressed one another. Natasha pushed all of the heartbreak she harbored deep, deep down until she would lie down for bed and reach out next to her…but you were never there.
N.R. Master-list
Fluff: ~ Angst: !
I do not give anyone permission to repost, plagiarize, or take credit for my original work. If you see this anywhere please let me know. Reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated :) Men DNI
Let the light in pt. 1 pt. 2
Mom!Natasha series
Meet Cute series
Runaway Bride
Breath of fresh air
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Pregnancy, kissing, small hurt, mention of injuries
It was so nice to finally get outside and have some fresh air. The last few days you were stuck looking out the bay window as it poured and poured. Natasha, your wife and soon to be mother of your child, was extremely overprotective and made sure while she was gone that Laura watched over you from time to time.
The Barton’s only lived less than one acre over, on a small but beautiful farm of their own with their 3 mini Barton’s. They had actually given you and Natasha the idea to live off the grid, and who better to have as neighbors than the people who had become your guys’ family.
Especially Laura, she was one of your closest confidants and you loved causing chaos with her. Being a recent agent-out-of-commission due to your pregnancy was different, especially not training as hard and sleeping in, but as your symptoms really kicked up, you were grateful for the break. Recently entering the second trimester had not been easy. It was nice having someone like Laura to talk to, who really understood.
Natasha was scheduled to come back next Wednesday, and God were you ready for her to be home. It was hard to sleep without her soft touch, the Russian lullabies she sang you and the baby every night, and the way she'd gently rest her hand on your back throughout the day as a reminder she's there for you. Sometimes she'd come home with baby clothes or an extra teddy bear she'd seen for the baby's nursery, and in those moments there was no doubt in your mind that she’d make the most beautiful mother.
As you were drinking your tea and reading your favorite piece of poetry, an extremely loud whirring sound caught your attention. Using your book as a shield from the sun, you looked up to the sky to find the Quinjet making a rocky landing in your field, swaying the grass in waves. Almost immediately, Laura came out of her house with her kids trailing behind, worry and confusion written all over their faces. You went to each others sides, "What's going on Laur? Are they okay?"
"I'm sure their fine, relax, it's gonna be okay," but you heard the breathlessness in her voice as she held you close and away from the unpredictable helicopter in the middle of your flower field.
The door to the jet slid open and revealed a group of ruffed up, exhausted Avengers. The whole pack was there from first glance: Tony, Steve, Clint, Fury, Maria, Thor, Bruce, but no- oh there's Natasha. You and Laura exhaled at the same time, half walking and half skipping to Natasha and Clint. Finally, landing in her arms again. Her hold was tender but tight, tighter than ever as she closed her tired eyes and breathed in your scent and held the back of your head. The team gawked at you and Laura like alien specimens in your lovers arms.
"I'm just gonna say it- who the hell are you two?" Of course, Tony was the one to break the sweet moment.
Natasha let out a mix of a sigh and a chuckle, before sharing a glance with Clint. "This, Tony, is my wife Y/N. Y/N - the Avengers, Avengers - Y/N. There, the formalities are over." Clint soon did the same with Laura.
The sound of leather could be heard crunching as Fury walked toward you and Laura, embracing you two too hard, nearly making you cough. You gently reached up to give him a hug, "Nice to see you too Nick."
"HOW DO THESE TWO KNOW NICK?" Poor Bruce, he looked like he was trying to solve a math problem.
"We're agents with Shield, dipshit. I'm just on leave due to-," you gestured down to your visible pregnant belly, "and the fact that Nick is my boss so technically I have to listen to him. But Laura and I have actually known all of you for years, which is how we met Clint and Natasha...unfortunately." You chuckled when Nat lightly shoved your arm.
Good ol' Steve Rogers was the first to stick out his arm, "It’s a pleasure, Miss." His grip was firm, but not too hard. You smiled up at him kindly, "Nice to meet you too, Rogers. And call me Y/N, are you boys hungry?"
A few hours later you were in the kitchen, freshly showered and bandaged Avengers sitting at your dining room table, causing a ruckus and playing poker. You loved the sound of a full house and conversations mixing together to make one babble of laughing, foul mouthed heroes. It was music to your ears.
A gentle figure hugged you from behind while you were over the sink, placing their soft hands on your belly, you closed your eyes for a second and sighed happily.
“Missed me much sweetheart?”
“You know I did,” you craned your neck to give her a gentle kiss on the temple.
That night, as the worlds mightiest slept in your spare bunks and sleeping bags, you fell asleep safe and sound with Natasha’s arm around you and your baby-to-be.
Welcome to the world
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Pain, birth, crying, water breaking
Cold sweat lined your forehead when you opened your eyes, adjusting to the darkness in the room. You flung your sheets off the bed and sat up, immediately holding your tender belly. You felt nauseous, cramped up, and sweaty- the worst combo. Immediately, you waddled over to the restroom, splashing cold water on your face and taking shallow breaths in and out. Phew- you were calming down, everything was okay. Just the normal symptoms when your 38 weeks, nothing new.
You hoped the warm light pouring into the bedroom wouldn’t wake up your exhausted wife that only got four hours of sleep the night before, tending to your early morning sickness. You felt bad but hey, you were equal, it’s not like you got any sleep either with this little one growing inside you. You finished drying your face off with a towel and drinking some water through the sink when you decide to head back to bed and try to get more rest, it was probably just some Braxton hicks pains. That is until you felt a gush of water down your legs, your water broke
“Nat-,” she didn’t even stir. You gripped the side of the door frame, hands turning red as you groaned out in pain, “Natty!”
Two hours later you were in a delivery room, damp with sweat and a worried, but excited, wife holding your hand. The hospital lights flooded your vision as nurses and doctors came in and out, checking your dilation.
Tender lips brushed the top of your head, “Shhhh detka, this is the moment we’ve been waiting for, just a little earlier than planned. Breathe, that’s it, in and out, just like that sweetheart,” and when you looked into her eyes you’d never seen so much love from another human. Your stomach immediately cramped again, pain washing over you as you closed your eyes and took shaky breaths out loud.
Clint was on his way with Laura, the future uncle and aunt of your child, speeding down the highway. Steve, your baby's future Godfather, was two hours away picking up flowers for you, a teddy bear for your little one, and candy for Natty and himself. The rest of the group was getting back from a mission overseas, no doubt they would miss the birth, but you knew they’d be there ASAP.
The warm glow of the bright lights kept you up, even as you tried to shut out all other senses. Closing your tired eyes and imagining what the cries of your baby would be like was the only thing that brought you comfort. Once the pain subsided and nurses stopped poking and prodding you, images of your new family of three eased your mind.
Natasha was right by your side, rubbing your back through the pain and nausea, dabbing your forehead with a cold compress for the hot flashes and feeding you ice chips. In this moment she swore to herself you’d never looked so beautiful. You were her dream come true. All three of you. An hour later your redhead had to step out to update Maria and Fury on what was going on.
At first, sure Fury was disappointed to lose one of his best agents for a couple months for maternity leave- but he couldn’t hide his excitement either.
Laura’s sweet gaze was above you in the meantime, gently lifting your head up to press cold compresses on your neck and chest.
“Hey momma, how’re we holding up?” She grabbed some water for you and adjusted your pillow.
“Well, for starters I feel like a tiny human is kickboxing with my insides…so right on point I’d say.” You tried to sit up on your elbows, wriggling your way through the copious amounts of hospital sheets.
It felt like hours before the nurses gave you the go-ahead to start pushing. You had never been so glad for any decision like the decision to get an epidural during delivery. Was it still painful? Hell yes. But did it hurt a lot less? Also, hell yes. Natasha felt useless watching you, not being able to help. It was like being stabbed in the chest every time she heard you scream or start to cry. The best she could do was not keel in pain when you practically broke her hand from squeezing it so hard. And then- in a magical instant- she was here.
Mae Lena Romanoff.
This beautiful, new child you just delivered was crying and being wrapped in a blanket.
You and your wife’s biggest dream had arrived and she was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. Her nose was the same as her momma’s, with your e/c eyes. She had a full head of brownish-reddish hair like Natasha’s, damp on her small head. You couldn’t help yourself from crying, sobbing really, as you looked at this little doll in your arms. And as you looked up at Natasha, she was crying too.
The nurses started cleaning you up and doing all the usual routines after giving birth, making sure not only your baby was healthy but yourself as well. Natasha took the baby in her arms and sat by you, marveling at this little joy she created with her wife. Her gentle arms cradled the baby close to her ear as she whispered to her, “Welcome to the world, little one. As long as I’m here, no one will hurt you. Not ever.”
An hour later the room was filled with Clint, Laura, their kids, and Steve. All of them gently stroked the baby’s head, cooing and “awww”ing. You held her close and pointed to everyone in the room, “That’s your Uncle Clint, he’s going to teach you how to shoot a bow and arrow. And that’s your Auntie Laura, one of the best people you’ll ever meet. Those are your cousins that are going to play with you until you’re all grown up. And that right there, is Steve. The best Godfather anyone could ask for. Later on you’ll meet Tony and Pepper, they’ll get you into so many adventures. We’re all going to love you so much, sweet baby. ” If you could freeze this perfect moment in time, you absolutely would. You knew that as long as you had Natasha, your daughter, and this village to help raise her- your family would always be okay.
Mom!Natasha
Breath of fresh air Welcome to the world
Meet cute
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: nerves, money troubles, female reader, popular girls? A/N: In works to be a series, more parts soon! “I love you…but I will never stop hating you,” you practically whispered out the last line. The small phone booth you were in smelled like cigarettes and dust. You heard her breath on the other line, shakey. She said nothing. The endless rain created a waterfall on the glass windows, making your wife, Jamie, look like a blur of colors on the other side of the road, standing there with your two children. That was the last time you ever spoke to her.
1954-Junior Year- NYC
The first time you ever talked to Natasha was on the first day of Junior Year at Manhattan School for the Gifted. It was one of the most prestigious highschools in New York City and only few above a certain IQ were accepted. You were lucky enough to be above that IQ and be riding on a scholarship. You’d always seen her around the halls, classy, preppy, talking with her friends or teasing the poor boys that drooled over her (they didn’t stand a chance). Everyone knew her family, the Romanoffs, and her father, the head chief of the NYPD. To be frank, your opinion of her was nothing short of the rumors you’d been told- Natasha Romanoff was a rich bitch that only got into this school because of money. You know what they say, money makes the world go ‘round. So it shocked you when she gently tapped you on the shoulder as you were putting your books away in your locker, “Y/N right? I’m your locker buddy.”
“Yeah, Y/N L/N. Pleased to meet you,” you felt weird about shaking her hand but there it was, awkwardly waiting for hers to shake back. Being forced to look at her also made you realize what pretty eyes she had, as if someone took the greenest pieces of the forest and made them into her soft orbs.
She gently swatted your hand away, laughed, and pulled you into a soft hug, “I’m a hugger, silly.” The innocence of it genuinely touched you, and an unfamiliar feeling sprouted in your chest. That first day of Junior year, for whatever odd reason, she followed you around to break, lunch, and even got on the same bus as you after school, the fabric of her soft skirt rubbing up against your leg the entire ride home. As sweet as she was, the tension in the air was thick as you both knew her hanging around you was nothing short of unnatural.
Yes, you were beautiful in your own right with big e/c eyes and soft skin, bouncy hair and sharp intelligence, and you could easily fit in with someone like Natasha- but your friend group wasn’t exactly popular. You were all working class girls who had to catch a job after school, instead of hang around the popular spots like some of the other kids in your grade. The girls that were able to hang out at the vinyl shop or at Joe’s burger spot didn’t let the difference between you and them go unnoticed- and most of those girls were Natasha’s friends.
Natasha rode your subway all the way to Brooklyn, where you worked at the corner bodega, your parents shop. Right before she followed you in, you turned around, “Uhm- sorry, Natasha. It’s not that I don’t want to be friends and all, but you’ve followed me a whole 45 minutes to my job just because?” You saw the way she bit her lip and hugged her played with her hair out of nervousness, “Well, I mean I do want to be friends, of course…but I also heard you were pretty good in the STEM area. Look, Mr. Stark has a project for us that he’s going to show at our end of the year fair and I don’t know shit about robotics. I was thinking…maybe you could help?” She looked at you with doe eyes and a little smirk after her rather colorful language that told you maybe there was more to this girl. Maybe. The way she talked to you was different too, not necessarily just friendly- and anything but cold. You shifted your weight to lean against the wall, contemplating her words. A part of you wanted to say no, but she slowly pulled a small little envelope out of her book bag. Your heart leaped at the thought of it being what you wanted most…cold, hard, cash. Cash that your family really needed.
“This is just a starting amount, is $85 a week okay? You could come over to my house maybe twice a week for a few hours and we can work on it.” “I’ll start Monday.”
Later that night, as you tied your hair into rollers and tucked yourself into your cozy bed, Natasha lied awake in bed as she thought about your interaction. Her mind replayed your smile, nervous laughter, and the way you made your friends laugh so hard at lunch that they cried. She wished she enjoyed her friends that much. Each time her eyes closed, your face popped up in her mind. The redhead started retracing your features like a picture. What was wrong with her? A warm feeling blossomed in the pit of her stomach, slowly working its way up to her chest- but she stopped it. Not again. Natasha Romanoff is completely normal, completely perfect…and completely straight.
Meet Cute series
Meet Cute
Natalie, the sweet one
The family
Natalie, the sweet one
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader
Warnings: feelings developing, light touches, that’s all I think :)
Summary: Your relationship with the rich redhead slowly, but surely, blooms
Song: Opera house- Cigarettes After Sex
Nimble fingers quickly buttoned the slippery pink buttons that accented the white blouse you had on, hugging you perfectly in every corner. Swatting away the dust that fell on your black skirt in front of your mirror, you realized it showed the scar on the side of your thigh. The scar you hated. Nevermind that, you fluffed up the bouncy h/c hair that sweeetly framed your face before grabbing the cherry lipstick you stole from your mom, running out the door and down the flight of stairs in your apartment. Right as you were about to open the door leading out to the smoggy street you lived on, the tip of your shoe bent a tad too far and sent you tumbling down the last three stair steps, sending you face first into the door before your arms awkwardly caught you.
By the time you arrived at Natasha’s beautiful home in Manhattan, a small cut on your lip started to come apart and mix hints of blood with the cherry lipstick that adorned your pouty lips. Your rang the doorbell to the Romanoffs home. The ring sounded so perfect, like it belonged in one of your favorite shows with a perfect family. A dark haired, tall, lean woman with deep eyes opened the door for you with such poise and grace- Natasha’s mom. Something about the two was very similar, but it wasn’t necessarily by features. Her mother smiled, extending a gracious hand with a jewel the size of a rock on her ring finger, “Make yourself comfortable, she’ll be right down I’m sure.” This was your third time being over to their house as you two have started working together, and you found Mrs. Romanoff to be unexpectedly sweet. As you were guided into the living room, your curious eyes wandered from luxury to luxury, capturing everything like a camera. What a life. Especially their perfect family portraits, the entire family looked so beautiful and well put together. Each piece of clothing they adorned was brand new, most likely no hand-me downs.
The click-clack of Mary-Jane’s caught your attention, your study buddy ascending the winding stair case to the living room. Her eyes lit up as soon as they caught yours across the room. You two always worked in the study that sat untouched while her mom was always away doing…well no one actually knew. She just had a busy energy to her. The study is a quaint, old-fashioned space, tucked away. Time seems to stand still while your there, and 3:00 pm quickly turns into 6 before you know it. It’s filled with the comforting scent of aged paper and polished wood. The room is lined with tall wooden shelves, packed tightly with books of all kinds—some worn and weathered, others crisp and new. The shelves reach up to the ornate ceiling, where brass chandeliers hang, casting a warm, golden light that dances softly across the room.
As much as you tried to keep the conversations to concepts for the robotics project, your chats often drift beyond the pages of your textbooks. The two of you end up talking about everything, from your hopes to the constraints of your small high school, and even working after college. Natasha speaks of places she’s been, the things she’s seen. Through all of this, you get a sense that she’s lonely…that maybe no one really talks to her. It resonates with you. You notice that the redhead that sits so close to you is such a funny girl. She genuinely makes you laugh. It’s nice to not have to be the comedian for once. A part of you hurts though, when you remember the poisonous little thoughts of your mean stereotypes toward her.
As it gets later and creeps into the evening, the sun sets, casting a warm, golden glow through the windows. Natasha reads aloud from a book, her voice smooth and captivating, the words of the textbook spilling the space between you.
As she reads, you find yourself mesmerized, not just by the words, but by her. There’s something in the way she looks at you, a softness in her eyes that you’ve never noticed before. The world has taught you that feelings like these are dangerous. But in this moment, everything else fades away.
She finishes reading and looks up, meeting your gaze, “I just,” her chest falls with a sigh, “I want people to know that I’m smart. When people look at me, it’s like they see nothing. But I really am, you know…smart.” There’s a moment of silence, and the air is thick with unspoken words. You see a flicker of something in her eyes-hesitation, vulnerability. “I know you are, Nat. I know that.”
You look at her sympathetically, and gently touch her hand. Does she feel it too? This inexplicable connection that seems to grow stronger with each passing day.
Finally, Natasha speaks again, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you ever feel like you’re not quite where you’re supposed to be? Like there’s something more out there, something that you can’t quite name but you know it’s meant for you?”
You nod, unable to find the words to express that you know exactly what she means.The room feels smaller, the walls closing in as your heartbeat quickens. You move closer, whispering, “I think I know what you mean.”
“I knew you would.”
The tension between you is palpable, an invisible thread pulling you together. Nat reaches out, her hand lightly brushing against your knee, sending a shiver down your spine. She hesitates, giving you a chance to pull away, but you don’t. You can’t. And just like that, a line you didn’t know could exist, was blurred.
Tag list: @kkreader78o
The family
Summary: Your family is very different from the Romanoffs. Maybe that’s okay.
Warnings: secrecy, criminal activity, mafia inuendos, kissing, lmk if I forgot anything! A/N: This part kinda serves as family background context
Family, family, family. You love em’ or you hate em’. When you really thought about it, your family couldn’t be any more different from Natasha’s. You came from a middle class family, while the Romanoffs were so removed from that life. You two weren’t different just in terms of tax brackets- no, the culture was different too. You had an older brother, your mother, and your father. Nothing really out of the ordinary, and you had family spread all throughout New York- extremely tight knit. Something the Romanoffs didn’t seem like they had.
The business of your two families, that couldn’t be more different. Natasha’s father was the head of the NYPD, an upholding citizen of the law. Your father- well, he ran a corner store with your mother, and as much as all of that was true and honest, they also ran a background business with your Uncles. You had always assumed it was petty goods or something minuscule, unimportant. That was until your favorite Uncle randomly got taken away one Tuesday afternoon at the dry cleaners he ran, and your family quickly cut off all ties with him. As if he ceased to exist. Their business affairs became much more secretive, organized, and quiet after that. That was the first time you ever felt that maybe the underground business your family ran wasn’t so unimportant…or underground. All of that was nearly three years ago, and now you understood the scope of what your family had going on- or that is, at least you thought you understood the scope of what they had going on. Either way, you came from a line of hard workers, entrepreneurs, and a loving home. Not perfect, not always pretty, and not shiny, but there was love in it. And you knew that. The sharp, young mind that you had would have never considered anyone in your family criminals- like truly bad criminals. Real criminals. Unfortunately, that’s not what Natasha’s father, Jon, saw when you stepped foot in their home. He knew all about your little family and their businesses, both above and underground. He just didn’t know what exactly they were doing underground, but he heard whispers of it from colleagues, friends, customers.
Natasha’s father is a man of few words, but his presence commands respect and fear. He’s not the type to show affection openly, and when he does speak, his words carry the weight of unspoken threats. You know he’s not the dad that kisses his daughters goodnight, or watches as they descend the stairs before their first school dance. He’s the type of dad to give you a firm pat on the shoulder, and go back to his study. Meanwhile Natasha’s mother was soft spoken, nice- but not kind, and distant. She was in two places at once when she talked to you, never quite giving her full attention.
On the other hand, your family was so warm, like a fireplace. Your dad was funny and so protective, but sometimes he could be so angry. Sometimes, he scared you. You now know he’s involved in something more than just the legitimate businesses he fronts; the hushed conversations in the study, the late-night visitors who never stay long, the subtle nods of acknowledgment he receives from men who walk with a certain air of authority—they all point to a darker truth. That never stopped him from being a good dad though, your dad. Your mother is equally enigmatic, a woman of grace and elegance who runs the household like a queen. She’s fiercely protective of you, but there’s always a sense of something unspoken, something lurking just beneath the surface of her calm demeanor. And her love for you two is fierce beyond belief. Then there’s your older brother, who’s already being groomed to take over the family business. He’s charming and charismatic, the kind of man who can talk his way out of anything, but you’ve started to see the darker side of him too—the cold, calculating stare, the ruthless determination to protect the family’s interests at any cost. As deep as your love runs for them, sometimes you wonder if you’re safe. Really safe.
Through you and Natasha’s “friendship,” or whatever it was, there were unspoken rules that lingered between you two: 1. Don’t get caught. 2. Never be affectionate in public. And perhaps the most impotent rule of all- 3. Our families can never know. She explained all these rules to you while sitting on your lap in the attic, kissing you between every rule.
Runaway Bride
Summary: There’s only one person you really want on your wedding day
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Weddings, love, crying, running away, lots of angst
Song: Someday I’ll get it by Alek Olsen
You were out of breath by the time you got there, crisp cold air hurting your chest. Your throat was as dry as sandpaper. Natasha was there, waiting for you like she always was. Your legs were tired from running, broken nude heels in your hands, beautiful and forgotten. The white flowy, soft fabric of your dress touched your body delicately, dragging and picking up the color from the wet mossy grass. Sore legs lowered down to sit on the grass next to the girl who once captured your heart…but she was silent. Just you two, alone. The air was so cold it hurt your bones.
You rested your head against the large oak tree that sat behind you two, making a little cove under its branches. So many thoughts were racing through your mind, “I’ve ruined everything. What will people think? I have to say sorry.” But once you saw your favorite spot waiting for you, with your favorite girl, everything melted away. You shouldn’t even be here right now, you shouldn’t have been thinking about Natasha, but she was the only person that ran through your mind.
“Long time no see, Natty.”
You’ve gotten used to her silence though, it kind of became her new character trait these days. Sometimes you pretended it didn’t hurt anymore, but it always did. A little more each time. Rain droplets started to fall around you, wetting every inch of dirt and stone. More green from the grass started to slowly seep into the beautiful white fabric of your dress. You knew her deep gaze was on you, looking at you with pity…maybe with love?
Your chest tightened as you blinked hard, vision blurring, “I was supposed to get married today, you know,” a sad laugh escaped your throat as you played with the fabric of your dress, “I looked beautiful. My hair was done and my makeup was perfect and-I was supposed to be happy today,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I was supposed to be standing at that altar, looking into her eyes, promising forever. But I couldn’t even say the words. Because every time I looked at her, I saw you. And I hated myself for it.”
“I’m so tired of missing you. Some strange part of me thought getting married would make me happier. But all I see is you. When I say my vows, it’s your name they’re written for.”
I think of you all the time, now that you’re gone.
The rain poured down in relentless sheets, soaking through the dress. The sky above was a swirling mass of dark clouds and angry wind. Digging your manicured fingers into the soft mud, it felt like the only grounding thing. The feeling of mud seeping under your nails was the only anchor you had.
You checked your phone, trying to wipe the rain off of it and realized that you’d already been there for over an hour with Natasha. You needed to get back, answer all the missed calls and texts. This would be the last time you two saw each other…something inside you was certain about it. Shaky legs stood up, using the big oak tree as support and grabbing the bouquet you forgot about next to you.
You slowly kneeled down in front of your first love, first everything, and pressed your forehead against her cold grave stone, “If love could have saved you,” breaths came in short, sharp gasps, salty tears falling into your mouth, “you would have lived forever, my Natasha.” Soft lips kissed the engraving of her name as you gently lied the bouquet down for her, grabbed your broken heels, and said goodbye. It took all your strength to not look back as you walked out of the private cemetery.
Wish You Well
Inspired by Song of the day
Pairing: Natasha x Fem!Reader
Words: 252
Warnings: Endgame spoilers!!
~
You reminisced about her eyelashes, so luscious and long. They would stand up just right, the bold black they presented made them even more impressive. You remembered the first time the both of you met, you asked where she got her lashes done then stood in shock when she claimed they were her own.
What a great first impression.
You felt her ghosted lips on yours, craving the feeling again. You’d imagined them meeting yours for so long. But you couldn’t help it, her lips were just the right shade of pink. Not to mention, they were so full and tasted like candy.
Now, every time you ate cotton candy, you thought of her. Her, and her outstanding eyes, the same green optics that reminded you of a cat. Then, you thought of her cat-like reflexes. How fast and sneaky she was. And how amazing she looked in that tight, midnight black super suit of hers.
She had these fantastic red bunches of hair that would frame her face oh so perfectly.
Gosh, how you wondered what she could be up to at that moment. Her perfect face surrounded by her ideal hair. Because the last time you saw her eyes, they were glossy. Her eyelashes had been coated with her tears. Her lips had peanut butter sandwich crumbs.
You queried how long this minute would be. Because you couldn’t stand waiting another second of hoping. Hoping that she was alright where she was…
Wishing she was well up in the clouds.
Natasha: My head hurts
Yelena: That's your brain trying to comprehend it's own stupidity
Natasha: I can't believe this.
Y/N: believe what?
Natasha: that you'd do this to me,,
Y/N: what did I do-
Natasha: YOU'RE MAKING YOURSELF LOOK CUTE AGAIN, I'M TOO GAY FOR THIS
Clint: have you met my Russian assassin girlfriend, Nat?
Kate: and what's Nat short for?
Clint: I don't think vodka makes you grow much...
Natasha: [sees a dog]
Natasha: [high-pitched Russian babbling]
Screw The Pancakes
Imagine: Waking up next to your wife, Natasha
~
"Mommy!"
The little voice pulled you out a slumber.
"Mommy!!"
This time louder and more impatient. Looking through your eyelashes, you could zero in on a little girl who seemed to be a spitting image of both you and your wife.
"Mom!"
This time now fully awake, you quickly snatched your daughter from the ground, lifting her over you. Her giggles filled the air while someone grunted next to you.
"What are you doing up, little missy?" You teased, planting sloppy kisses over her face. "It's pancake day!" She shouted, Saturdays were always pancake days.
You heard a soft groan from your left side, it belonged to your wife. The one and only Natalia Alianovna, your wife.
Putting a finger to your lips, you and your daughter watched as Tasha snuggled into your side, trying to nuzzle her head between your stomach.
Your daughter leant down carefully. "Mama?" She whispered softly, moving a bit of your wife's gorgeous red hair from her face. "Mom?" She asked again, this time tilting her head.
"How about you go downstairs and get out a bowl while I wake up your mother?" You pulled yourself up a little bit, lifting your little girl off your lap and back on the ground.
"Loki Doki!" She nodded enthusiastically, clearly excited about pancake day.
Once you watched her leave the room, you turned over to face the sleeping beauty. "Hey, Tasha, it's wakey time," you smile at her, caressing her cheeks lightly.
A small whine escaped her lips as you softly woke her to sobriety. "It's pancake day," You pushed your limits with the assassin, chuckling like your daughter had.
"Screw the pancakes." Your chuckle soon turned into a full laugh at the grumpy widow's morning bedside manner.
"Shut up," Natasha grumbled into the pillow, "You're too loud." You snatched her comfort pillow and watched as she groaned some more.
"Wake up, your daughter wants pancakes." You smirked at the mess of red hair in the black tank top snarled at you.
"Screw the pancakes…" She whispered once more before forcefully throwing her face into the mattress.
Note to self: It's impossible to wake up Tasha before 8 o'clock.
saturn's orbit 🪐
welcome to my blog!
ABOUT ME ✧*。
—dani. she/her. eighteen. bisexual. filo. and a libra
—I love reading, fiction and films. I love writing and watching movies A LOT ( I'm a writer I think )
my inbox is open for anyone who wants to talk and I'd really love it if you'd ask me questions or suggest what type of story you want me to write.(*˘︶˘*)
rules for request
MY MASTERLISTS ✧*。
❥ marvel
[ mcu! ]
❥ criminal minds
❥ broken record player
[ song fics ]
you do not have permission to copy, translate or steal any of my writing!
romantic lover
PAIRING—natasha romanoff x gf!fem!reader
SUMMARY—Natasha's many ways to say I love you, without actually having to say it to you
WARNINGS—pure fluff, established relationship, Natasha's a romantic, GAYYYY, Natasha's a lesbian, allusions to sex?
A/N—The writing probably sucks but I loved the concept so much I just had to write it, ALSO MY FIRST NAT FIC 😍
Natasha could say I love you in many different ways, in many different languages even but she says I love you the most when she doesn't actually say it.
She says I love you through her actions, through the little things and you don't care because for you—it's the little things that matter the most.
Natasha doesn't have a problem saying she loves you, the relationship has gone on long enough that she's comfortable in saying what she truly feels but you can't help but be touched because you can clearly feel her genuine love for you even without having to say it.
You couldn't help but love Natasha Romanoff more with her four special ways of secretly saying " I love you ".
KISSES
Natasha kissed you in a lot of ways, from small pecks or needy kisses that lead to a very hot make out session.
She had a way of kissing you that clearly meant I love you, she'd start with a one minute kiss with her soft lips to yours, then a brief kiss to your nose accompanied by an eskimo kiss, and lastly a gentle peck to your forehead while her gentle hand cupped the side of your face. She'd do this the most often, especially when leaving for yet another mission.
You love Natasha endlessly and even more because she never gets tired of showing immense affection for every part of you. She'd kiss your hands in the gentlest manner, from a peck to your palms to a peck on your knuckles as she keeps her eyes on your reddening cheeks.
She'd also never get tired of making you as red as her enemy's blood.
The most favored kiss by you, is the long lasting type, the one's she'd give that are so needy and full of passion. The kiss that makes you out of breath as you pull away because it feels overwhelming, that's the kiss that makes you feel all the feelings Natasha buries, the kiss that shows her vulnerability. She'd never be afraid to show you her vulnerability, her utmost sincere love for you because she'd never want to make you think that she doesn't love you enough.
ACTS OF SERVICE
She'd never get sick of doing things for you, for the sole reason that everything she does is for you because all Natasha would want is for you to be happy.
Natasha tries to make it subtle and not noticeable but having a spy as a girlfriend makes you learn a thing or two. You'd never point it out, slightly afraid she'd stop doing these little things for you if you said anything about it. Not just because your girlfriend's a trained spy but it's because you notice everything about Natasha, you watch her like she hung the moon and all of the stars. In your point of view, Natasha's the world and that just means you watch her and everything she does because for you—everything she does is simply extraordinary.
When she eats, she always gives you the first piece because you deserve to have everything, even the first chip from the bag. She also does the opposite and save you the last piece of everything, like the last slice of pizza or the last slice of cake.
She also doesn't hesitate to let you take her heart piece by piece. As the time goes, you've taken almost every part of Natasha. You've also taken full ownership of her heart as you chipped piece by piece through the years as well as taking down the walls that she built.
Natasha will always be yours as you are hers, you'd always own her while heart because she knows you'll never break it, not intentionally anyways.
MORNING COFFEE
Simple things like coffee made you have another special thing with your girlfriend.
Every morning would never be boring as you wake up to the most breathtaking view. The view of Natasha's face laid against a soft pillow as her wavy red hair contrasts against the sun looking like it's in flames. Your morning view couldn't get any better as you admire Natasha's sleeping form, her naked back peppered with kisses that lead her to wake up with a small nose crunch and a wide smile.
Every morning the two of you would have the routine of making coffee together and drinking the hot beverage while conversing about anything possible. You enjoyed sitting down as the sun shined peeking against the blinds and as you drank your coffee while talking to your lover.
You'd never get sick of Natasha's coffee, she made coffee as you simply get the matching dark red mugs and wait for the coffee in her embrace. She likes making coffee, only if its for herself or for you because it didn't feel like a chore or a duty but a habit she liked.
You can see the spark in her eyes as you both take the first sips of coffee with eyes locked.
HUGS
Every touch Natasha gives, gives you life. She's not much for hugs but she'd never ever pass the opportunity to give you one or to pass a hug given by you.
The first few hugs you've shared were brief and short but you knew she loved them anyways as you feel here tightening her embrace every time you give her a hug.
Your hugs were a source of energy for Natasha, a day without your hug felt like hell. The hugs you gave were a necessity for her, a hug that she needs to feel, a hug that feels like home.
All the hugs she shares with you are the longest, and if she could she'd make the hugs last a lifetime, because that's what she'd want a lifetime of hugs—with you.
NATASHA ROMANOFF MASTERLIST
open for requests!
• most of my works will be x fem!reader or x original female character
* —smut + sexual themes
❀—favorite
SERIES
[ more than 10 parts ]
MINI SERIES
[ less than 10 parts ]
ONESHOTS
romantic lover | fluff
" Baby, its 3:00 am " | fluff ❀
DRABBLES & HEADCANONS
headcanons of nursing Natasha who has flu