Natasha Romanoff Fanfiction - Blog Posts

kotenok part. twelve

while you and natasha share a moment of serenity with each other, it’s interrupted when you argue about the conflicts in your relationship.

older!natasha romanoff x younger!reader

kotenok masterlist

You wake with your head buried between her neck. Natasha smells like lavender, honey, and vanilla all at once. With her hair strewn across her pillow, crimson red locks, curled into little ringlets, they make way for the features on her face.

The way she scrunches herself nose in slumber, pink lips parted as she breathes, and the freckles say a quaint hello as the sun shines softly on the both of you.

It’s small.

The days like these where New York city isn’t in a cloud of pent up rain and thunder, the days where the sun is out to play, shows off for a daring sunset when it hits eight o’clock right on the dot.

The days where you get to wake up with the love of your life in your bedroom with your head buried in the crook of her neck.

You’re the first one to stir awake. Your limbs aching from prior activities from the night before. Only then, which to remind you of the purpling hickeys left on the skin of your inner thighs and thin parts of you neck.

A thumb rubs along the bruising colour on your leg, hissing when you realize it’s still fresh as a wound. You don’t mind it, it’s all what makes you owned by Natasha and you’re proud.

But as the chilly air of the AC hits you awake, you sit up against your body’s aching will and a yawn washes the sleep away.

Natasha is next to wake up. Her arm moving over to your side in instinct of searching for you. When she fails and feels your side empty, but warm, her eyes flutter open to find you staring at her with swollen eyes.

“Morning.” You beam at the older woman with a looped smile, which she returns in the process. But when the slumber in her slips away and Natasha leans her head against your back, you feel her warm breath fan against your skin.

Her arm circles against your tiny body and tugs you close against her front. The older woman has no trouble dragging you against her for the sole reason she overweights you in size.

When you melt against her front, feeling her mock your actions as she buries her face against your neck, your body loses all control in an effort to just feel your lover.

“Good morning, moya krasivaya devushka.” She whispers it like a nun in prayer, like you were the only thing she believed was worth worshiping.

And despite the language barrier, you welcomed her embrace and smiled through it all.

“I have no clue what that meant, but good morning to you too.” The redhead hums against your skin, her pale slender fingers drawing circles against the skin that protects your ribs.

She makes another noise of content, this time, pulling her head away to pepper open mouthed kisses on the paper thin skin of your pulse. You jerk slightly in response, but found pure and content comfort in her touch and hold.

The older woman held you like that, breathing in and out as her chest presses against yours. With the curve of your back pressed against her chest, her lips on your skin, gentle sayings were whispered along the way.

“I love you.” She tells you, and Natasha makes you feel it every day of your waking moment.

You smile in return, your head lulling back against her shoulder. The action makes the older woman pause and sigh. “I love you more.”

When you and Natasha finally find the energy to slip away from bed and enter the common room, the two of you are greeted by your friends. Steve is bright and awake, covered in his gym clothes, you have no doubt he just came back from running with Bucky.

Natasha has her hair in a braid, settled to one side, she dawns black leggings with a zip up hoodie that looks too small for her. You gave that to her, the grey hoodie from Lululemon that was a size too big for you, was then rewarded to your girlfriend when she said she was a size four while you were a zero.

She makes oatmeal for the both of you. Raisins in yours and she likes hers bland. Wanda enters the room, and when she does, awareness of her presence is inevitable. But she gently smiles when she sees the two of you.

Suddenly, it’s not all too bad.

When the two of you sit on the barstool next to each other, Natasha plans the day ahead.

You stand beside the older woman as she signs the receipt, with a big purchase like that, Natasha doesn’t even blink an eye at how the total exceeds two zeros.

You pursed your lips in tow, biting your tongue after to let the question from slipping from your lips. But just as Natasha finishes with the sales associate, the redhead looks up from heavy red lashes and stares with striking emerald eyes.

“What’s on your mind, darling?”

The sales associate disappears the moment the bag is in Natasha’s hand. She doesn’t bat another eye at the employee despite being well aware of his knowing look towards the famous Avenger.

It’s the first time Natasha calls you by such name in public and especially around people. As you stare into her gaze, the smile on her lips present and deepening the smile lines and wrinkles, you know it’s genuine.

You shake your head, smiling as you flush under her gaze. “Nothing. I love you.”

Her brows raise a bit. Her lips purse just as yours did, the only difference is that she’s forcing a smile away. Her pale cheeks are red now, you almost feel bad for making such a sensual woman blush within a simple advocation of admiration.

But she expresses back with a hand reaching out to yours. She squeezes your hand, and then she lets the grin rip all over her face.

Only then, you remember the very first time you’ve loved a girl. The brown headed girl, with the pale skin sprinkled with freckles, and her striking green eyes.

You don’t remember anyone else to love after her. She was only there for a brief moment in your life, a few years or so, sat on different sides of the steel bars, and only then, you remember what it is to feel in love.

You know, and you remember because as you stand there with a smiling Natasha Romanoff, you feel it in the bones that were once broken and bruised, now healed and kissed by none other.

She cocks her head this time, curious and concerned for the sudden silence on your end. And this time, she reaches out with a touch of comfort on the pads of her finger tips.

“You sure?”

You balance the weight of your body on your right feet, shoulders sagging as you blink naively at your lover.

“Did you see the smile Wanda gave us today?”

Natasha is the type to suppress her emotions. The type to have been trained to do so for her whole life. And with that training, comes a time of need. In this moment, you can’t read her.

Your shoulders sag and you purse you lips, waiting for her answer if if it were going to burn you.

“I did.”

“I’m glad.”

She raised a brow. “Are you?”

You nod this time, a small smile erupting on your chapped lips. “I am.” You sigh softly. “I think... Well, I hope, she’s opening up to the idea of my happiness with you.”

“I hope that’s her intentions.” Natasha stands taller now and the sales associate is long gone, had been since he handed her the bag. “You never know with Wanda.”

“She has been hurt, Talia.”

“As if you hadn’t been.” The redhead scoffs, almost offended. “Do not apologize on behalf of the woman who hurt you, darling. It only makes you look bad.”

You get angry with Natasha for a moment. Your heart aches with a hurt that you’ve haven’t felt.

“I’m not apologizing for her behalf.” You snap back accordingly and this time, Natasha stands to tower your small stature. “I’m merely sympathizing for her pain because I know what it had been like for someone important to me be taken away.”

You go on with a warm face and blurred vision. It makes Natasha look like a white blob with red hair.

“It’s not wrong to care, Natalia. It’s not wrong to care about people who have been hurt. And it’s definitely not wrong to care about someone like Wanda who’s experienced enough torment in their life. I am trying to be better than the people who have made me. But I am sorry if you cannot see that.”

“I’m not blind.”

You huff at your girlfriend’s words and for the very time, your throat aches at the idea of talking to Natasha about such a topic.

“I never said you were.”

“You implied it.”

You shake your head, attempting to remove the impending ache that spread across your temple and your front. You sigh when it doesn’t work and so, your shoulders sag in defeat.

“I’m ready to go home.”

And this time, Natasha doesn’t reply back. She doesn’t snap back with a comment, she doesn’t try to talk back to you with a tone that makes you want to step away.

Instead, she leads the way out of the store, then through the crowded floors of the mall, and then into the parking where a valet driver returns her car. You sit where you’ve always have, next to her, but as the silence settles in her Corvette, you realize how much the argument has affected her.

She even goes to grip the steering wheel with a hold that makes her knuckles white and she huffs. As she stares right ahead of her, through the glass and the line painted onto the concrete floor of the parking garage, she’s the first to break the silence.

“You’re right.” You blink up at her when she says the words and the anger you held for the older woman shatters with a crack. “I suppose I’m afraid of her hurting you the way other have done it. I just want you to be happy and I just want your life to be filled with people who do make you happy. Even if it means rejecting those who fit into mine.”

She goes on. “You’re right that it’s not wrong to care about people but I just want you to be careful about how you care for them. I’ve met the other end of the witch, darling, she’s just not all about the words she speaks. If she wanted, and that’s a big if, she could make you disappear.”

You swallow to speak but apparently, she had more to say. “Wanda... I never loved her. At least not in the way she wanted me to. We both craved something that we couldn’t fully give, I needed a distraction, she gave it, but she expected more and I didn’t. It’s hard enough loving someone who’s twenty years your junior and everyone is chastising you for it but doing it with a failed one night stand who seems to have fallen for you? I’d take you anywhere just to have peace with you.”

When the silence settled back in and she finishes, you reach for the love of your life’s hand with a touch so gentle, she would’ve never even felt it if you hadn’t slipped your fingers through hers.

“Wanda is someone we can’t force out of our lives.” Natasha knows that and you too. “But I want to keep loving you without fear or judgment of others. And if apologizing and catering to her will do that, I’d gladly take the opportunity.”

When Natasha turns her head and faces you, a pink shade to her cheeks, a frown blossoms on your lips.

“I never meant to chastise you for caring about people. I think it’s great that you do, but I worry and I just want you to live your life to the fullest. Wanda has no part in our relationship and I don’t think she should, regardless of what she used to mean to me.”

“I know. I know.” Your response to her apology is one that’s genuine. And as Natasha starts the car and backs out of the parking garage, you hold her hand and squeeze it. You turn to her with gentle eyes and an aching heart.

For a moment, she takes her eyes off the road, it’s empty anyways, Natasha has a sense of a bird, of an assassin. She’s always on guard. And for a second between that moment, her eyes shine with glimmer.

“I love you.”

Her hand squeezes yours, and the air runs through the locks of your hair as the windows come down. Your gaze never leaves your lover and you know, even now and even through the argument, you love her, no doubts, no hesitation, even through the worst of it all.

“And I’m sorry.”

You shake your head at your lover’s words. Despite it all, you know she means well, she means her words and her actions with all the love she has for you.

She’s willing to drop everything for a life of happiness with you and your heart aches at the thought of her selfishness, her willingness to just be with you.

You smile at Natasha when the car stops at a light, your features soft while she replicates your own.

“I know.”

There hasn’t been any certainty for a while in your life but as you look at the redhead, you know you’ll be alright.

Someone Who Answers

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: A small drabble where the Reader calls Natasha in the middle of the night.

Words: 600

You weren’t sure how long it had been since someone had answered your calls or texts.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have any friends. You had plenty. They were just busy with family, and life, and work. You were happy for them. Truly. You just wanted to talk to someone. You needed someone. And they left you with no one.

No one, except for Natasha Romanoff.

Even though you had her number in your phone, even though she said, all those years ago when she’d met you during some secret operation, that you could call her at any time, you had never done anything more than glance at the number. After all, Natasha was a very, very important woman. She had better things to do. Like save the world, or kill corrupt politicians, or clean her guns, or whatever the hell the Black Widow did in her free time.

You did everything you could to not call. You went through every possible excuse. She was working, she was saving the world, she was with a friend, she was practicing martial arts. All of them fell flat when, in the middle of the night, you found yourself aching for connection, however slight.

So, despite everything, you pulled your phone out, found the number, and pressed “Call.”

The second you pressed the button, you regretted it. Your heart felt to the pit of your stomach, your breath quickened, and your palms turned sweaty. The phone rang once. You pulled the phone away, preparing to hang up. The phone rang twice. You stared at the screen, waiting for something. You weren’t sure what for. Nothing happened, you didn’t get any signal, so you reached for the “End Call” button. But before you could press the button, a voice interrupted you:

“How did you get this number?”

You instantly brought the phone back up to your ear, a smile breaking free onto your lips. Oh, how amazing it was to hear someone speaking to you. Even if said person seemed less than enthused.

You took in a deep breath and forced the words out, “You gave it to me.”

“Oh,” Natasha said, and the harshness faded from her voice. “The humanities consultant for the Paris mission.”

“Uh, yes,” you said. You barely understood what had happened. All you could remember was that you were brought into this tiny room, sat down with Natasha, and she had you tell her about a remote, cut-off culture just East of Paris. Those twenty minutes were the highlight of your career. “Sorry I called you. It’s really late.”

“I’m in Cyprus,” Natasha said, and you hummed. It was a waste even wondering why she was on the other side of the world. You’d never learn, anyway.

“Good morning, then.”

“Thank you,” she said, then a few moments later asked, “Why did you call? Do you need something?”

“No, I’m fine,” you said. After a few breaths, you mustered up the courage to say, “I just wanted to talk.”

There was a pause on the other end. You thought she had hung up or simply couldn’t bother responding, but she ended up saying, “I’m free for the next hour. We can talk.”

And that was exactly what you did. It felt amazing. Not only to talk to someone, but to talk to someone who seemed so full of stories and complexities as Natasha was amazing. Sure, some of the stories veered on the edge of being dark or unbelievable, but that didn’t bother you. You had known what you were getting into when you started to talk to her.

Feeling So Tired; Falling Apart

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: You don’t think you could ever be loved again, until Natasha comes into your life and refuses to be pushed out.

Word Count: 1,051

Warnings: Severe depression, self-hate, loneliness, isolation, heavy mental health issues and discussions, angst, and cursing.

A/N: This is just a vent fic that I wrote for myself because I’m not ok lol and I cope with fictional characters. Again- this is a vent fic, and please proceed with caution. Title is inspired by My Kind Of Woman by Mac DeMarco because I cry to his music.

You didn’t know when you realized that you were unlovable.

Maybe it was when you noticed how during your entire childhood the kids from school wouldn’t talk to you or invite you over to their birthday parties, or when you would hear their laughter in the hallways when you walked past them.

Maybe it was when everyone talked about their best friends and their plans for the weekend, but you had just decided to take on an extra shift at work to ignore the loneliness you were drowning in.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was when you were finally fucking old enough to stop being so goddamn stupid, and realize that everyone who told you that they cared or loved you was lying.

The only person who maybe could sometimes make you feel loved was Natasha.

Natasha.

She was the one person who was there for you. And you loved her for it. God, you fucking loved her so much.

But even with her support, you couldn’t drive away your depression and your isolation.

Because, unlike you, Natasha had other people. She was reunited with Yelena and spent a lot of time with her. Wanda was her best friend, and you could almost always catch them together. Even though she was your girlfriend, it didn’t feel like Natasha thought of you as her favorite person.

Because, quite frankly, no one ever did. And no one ever will. And fuck, it was the loneliest feeling in the world.

A feeling that even Natasha couldn’t and wouldn’t understand. No matter how hard she tried.

“Please baby, please. You can’t just push everyone away like this.” Natasha’s voice broke, but you couldn’t even hear it. You were huddled under your blankets, tears streaming down your face. You couldn’t listen to her.

You took a breath in when you felt the bed dip and arms wrap around your waist. “Natasha, please go away.” You whispered. You reached out for your phone and huffed in annoyance when the redhead grabbed it out of your hands.

“You’re not doing this again. I will not watch you spiral, Y/N. We all love you and support you and care. I cannot stand by and watch the love of my life do this to themself. Please, just let us-”

You felt rage bubble in your stomach, and you threw her arms off of you. “Who’s us, Nat? No really, who’s fucking us? Because as far as I’m concerned, I don’t have anyone, Natasha! I’m fucking alone, and you can never fucking understand it!”

Natasha shook her head, “Baby, please listen to me. I hear you, and I understand you-”

“Fuck!” You yelled, tears streaming down your cheek as you stood up from your bed. “No, no you don’t! You have people who love you! Yelena’s your sister, and you talk to her! Wanda’s there and-”

“Y/N, listen to me,” Natasha said firmly, grabbing onto your arms and forcing you back down onto the bed. “Do you think in the Red Room that I never felt alone?”

You went silent, unable to respond.

“I was alone my entire childhood. Actually, I don’t even think what happened to me counts as a childhood. So please fucking believe me when I tell you that I know what’s it’s like to be so fucking alone. But guess what?”

You looked up at her.

“I found a family. The Avengers. I thought I’d be doomed forever too. It’s hard to get out of that mindset, I know. But you will find people who love you, honey. I love you. Yelena loves you. Wanda loves you.”

You shook your head and tried to ignore the sobs that were rising. “No, that’s different. You were made to be lovable because you’re… you’re a good person. You’re enough, you’re worthy. And I’m not.” You couldn’t hold back your sobs anymore.

You could practically feel the redhead’s heart break from your words as she pulled you into her arms, and refused to let you out of them. “You’re so worthy. So beautiful.” Natasha whispered in your ear, gently rocking you.

“No, I’m not. I’m so alone. I can’t do this anymore, I can’t-” Natasha shushed you and turned over, spooning you close to her. “Everyone says they love me but they never really do. I’m no one’s favorite person, no one’s top priority, I just-”

Natasha shook her head once again, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “But you’re my favorite person, honey. You’re my top priority, the light of my life. I need you, okay? I care about you so, so much. And other people do, even if you can’t feel it.”

“That’s not true. So many people say that and they’re lying- you’re fucking lying!” You couldn’t contain all the pent-up emotions from the years hiding anymore. You tried to escape the redhead’s grasp but she simply held you tighter and peppered kisses on your face.

“I’m not lying. Baby, I love you so much. It breaks me to see you hurting like this, it really does. I know the other team feels the same way. We all want you to be okay, we want you to feel happy. Because if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.”

You finally stopped fighting and let yourself cry. Natasha traced patterns on your back and whispered affirmations in your ear, unwilling to leave you alone, even for a moment.

“Go to sleep. I know you’re tired baby.” Natasha said in a soft tone, helping you get back under the blankets. “And when you wake up, I’ll get you some food, okay? Just rest for now, love.”

“I’m sorry, I just-”

“No. I don’t want any apologies to be spoken, okay? You have nothing to be sorry for. I love you and I’m not leaving you. No matter what you go through, I will be here. My love is unconditional, and I’m not going anywhere.”

With blurry eyes you looked up at her, “Do you promise? You promise you won’t leave me?” Your voice broke, and Natasha nodded.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

And with the redhead by your side you realized that with Natasha, you maybe had a chance.

You had a chance to feel better. To be better. Because unlike everything else in your life, Natasha stayed.

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