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Learning (To Trust Your Touch)

Taglist: @lynxwhispurrs

Summary: When an unexpected touch brings a realization to light, Natasha does everything to show her favorite person that it's real.

A/N: This was inspired by @missmonsters2's "Words Beneath Your Skin', a beautiful piece of art I"m not worthy of with my touch starved ass. I wanted to add my own little spin to it using my favorite assassin :3 Thank you again for giving me permission to do this <3

Warning: Open ended quote that might be interpreted as abuse. I'm not for sure, but just to be safe.

Natasha noticed.

To be fair, she is a assassin turned avenger. She notices a lot of things.

Natasha spent lifetimes learning about the human body. Where to break, where to shed blood most, vital areas that deliver poison faster than others….the list can go on.

She saw it when you visited her room. A part of the problem.

You were still new, not to the team, but to the compound. And even though everyone was mostly in and out on missions, your presence was very welcome to many.

Especially to a certain feline.

Liho was never one to welcome strangers, but your small peace offering of expensive canned tuna definitely made an impression.

Soon enough, you began to feed Liho, and her owner. Leaving small meals for both of them to find, and to keep finding you to ask for more.

You become both their favorites. And being a favorite of Natasha did allow certain perks.

“Found those limited edition chips you wanted.”

“Your shoelaces are untied,”

“Wanna go shopping?”

“I restocked the snack drawer and charged your computer.”

She pays attention as you start to settle into your new room. How you grab small snacks instead of sitting at a dinner table with the others, how you wrap yourself in a blanket when you’re in an empty living room. What snack you like best after a training session.

They’re small things, and to her credit, she was really just trying to say thank you for feeding them both. Thank you quickly turned into dates you thoroughly enjoyed.

It’s how you ended up in her room for the first time.

“I bought a few too many snacks at the store,” was the best excuse she could come up with, and she thanks whatever god there is that you bought it with that smile of yours.

Natasha’s room was interesting, simplicity mixed with sparks of modern and rustic all in one. Splashes of red and white mixed with shades of black.

“It’s pretty,”

Natasha gives you the smallest of smiles, genuine and true. “Thank you.”

Her bed is even softer. The mattress invites you, and you immediately burrow into the blankets like it’s second nature.

Meow

Liho follows suit after you open up your bag of potato chips and nestles in a spot close to you, and that night black tail swaying in pure bliss.

Then it happens.

Natasha looks at you, green eyes spotting remnants of chips resting against the corner of your lips. It doesn’t bother her, quite the contrary, you look absolutely adorable.

She brings it to your attention with a small chuckle, and hovers a finger over her face to point out the crumbs. Your focus on the movie, and perhaps looking a little too much at Natasha’s eyes and not her cue for you to wipe your face makes you brush away the opposite cheek.

A laugh escapes, and you wonder what’s so funny before she takes action herself.

Then she sees something.

How your eyes widened when you felt it. Hearing your heartbeat damn near thump out of your chest. Seeing the muscles tense up at the exact spot where the assassins hand brushes against your cheek. Feeling your face heat up at the intention, or even the very contact itself.

It’s how Natasha has her epiphany.

That you weren’t comfortable.

-

No childhood was ever really perfect, but coming to the root of it…was it really even normal?

Sure, your parents maybe made a few mistakes, but they gave you something, they gave you life. That’s probably the best gift they could give you. You didn’t need affection.

Right?

The memory of last night comes, how she…did that. Touched you. Lingering for only a few moments to the point where you thought you saw trees in those forest eyes of hers.

You look away from it, and she retracts, eyes quickly turning apologetic before you excuse yourself..

God…gardening was supposed to relax you. Not reminding you of the memory of a touch setting you off.

You gingerly touch the potting soil you laid out, placing a little in your hands and gauging the rich dirt. It’s not like grass, rooted to the ground. It’s flexible, vulnerable and-

Meow?

“Liho?”

You dust your hands off, and allow them to hover over the feline. You feel like a ghost, so close to her, but yet-

“Your momma must be mad at me, hm?”

Meow

“I know…not the smartest move to avoid her.” You allow your fingertips to ghost over the fur slowly. “I just…”

Liho makes an effort to listen. To stay as a friend, as a ear to listen.

“I don’t know.”

It’s an honest answer. One that makes Natasha’s heart break a little inside as she waits for you to finish your session with Liho.

She thinks about it for a moment, as she makes her presence known after you stop talking. A small wave and a soft “Hello” before she scoops liho in her arms and away from you.

The words slip out before you can think.

“Please…wait.”

Natasha stands still, liho jumping out of her arms in an instant and running back to your side. Natasha looks to the empty spot next to you in the green house, and when she looks at you this time, it’s different.

You see her ask. Green eyes waiting, despite everything inside her wanting to embrace and comfort you, for permission to get close to you.

You nod, and it’s the best decision you made today when you see her get comfortable on the ground.

“I’m sorry.” She starts. “I never meant to make you feel like I was going to hurt you. I would never hurt you.”

She feels like it’s her fault. For making you like this, so scared of this, of-

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Her eyebrows knit together, and she frowns as Liho makes her way to the redhead and nuzzles her thigh.

“What happened yesterday? Did I make you feel uncomfortable?”

You place your hands on your lap, the texture of your blue jeans giving some imitation of stimulation. The feeling is awkward and does little to ease your nerves, it’s baffling that jeans don’t have any other purpose than being expensive, but Natasha’s hand makes you stop.

Her hand is right in front of you. The early afternoon sunshine rests on her palm, extending towards you. She makes a conscious effort not to touch any part of your body, no matter what this urge is consuming her from the inside out.

Natasha only looks at you, and keeps her hand extended.

It’s another question.

I want to understand…please talk to me.

You take her hand, and allow your fingers to trace the lines on her palm before taking another step to full on hand-holding.

“It’s not you.” You shake your head. “Never you.”

She’s relieved, and quietly thanks a god as she looks at you. As she searches for those answers with you.

“I just…it felt so…different.”

She quirks an eyebrow at that. Before gently squeezing your hand. “Different how?”

“It felt…” You bit your lower lip in thought.

So soft, and gentle…how the warmth of her fingers rested on your cheek, her thumb swiping away the crumbs, how you felt so safe keeping eye contact with her when those few seconds felt like an eternity.

It felt like you wanted so much more of it. That..that touch.

But it’s wrong, in your mind.

It’s wrong to yourself to yearn for that feeling, to want it and to never let it go. To cherish its warmth like a fire on a cold winters day.

You find yourself not answering it. That feeling that keeps yelling at you to indulge in it.

“It felt so…new.” You explained. “Like it wasn’t going to leave. Like it was safe.”

Natasha nods. “Did it ever feel safe before?”

She waits for your answer, and feels the warmth of your hand slip away from her.

“Not everyone is like you,” You whisper. “Not everyone is good.”

She gets it.

-

Natasha never felt like this.

So determined, so hellbent on showing you something you’ve been denied for so long.

Take it slow, she reminds herself.

Natasha starts small. Hand and eye contact. A good start.

You see her extend her hand like she’s did in the green house during breakfast oneway, her forest orbs looking at you with that question.

Do you want this? It's okay if you don't.

Your decision is like that game show with the music for the final question. You’re over and under-thinking, worrying and doubting.

But she stays still and true.

You take her hand as many times as she extends it, and every decision getting just a little shorter than the last. She sees you start to intertwine your fingers with hers eventually, and the eye contact remains through it all.

You find yourself looking at her eyes so much. Sometimes it’s to check if she changed her mind, or if you did something wrong. But she brings you back with those green eyes of hers, an affirmation that it’s okay.

You're safe with me

She builds a foundation this way. Natasha slowly starts to stay a little longer by your side, she finds you starting to look for that feeling. She builds from hand holding, to sparring together, and from that, hugging.

She loves it when she gets to hug you.

The feeling of safety always washes over you when she wraps her arms around you, like she doesn’t want to let go. The subtle squeeze she gives you proved her point when Bucky called her out on it.

She didn’t want to let go. She never does.

Natasha slowly and consistently continues to build that foundation, and takes it at your pace. She’s patient, and attentive.

It gets longer, the contact.

You start to hold Liho for longer periods of time as Natasha sits next to you when you watch movies. Your fingers grazing over her fur as the assassin watches with adoration.

Hugs quickly became late night cuddling, and god it was heaven for you both.

You allowed yourself to initiate small touches. Brief hugs with the team as a greeting whenever in passing, high fives when Bucky says something funny at lunch, actually going to lunch instead of hiding in your room.

You became a permanent guest at Natasha’s bed, and you began sitting a tiny bit closer to her every time. Sometimes you’d lay on her lap as she braided your hair, others would be more comfortable sitting positions if anything else.

She sees a shift of sorts when you’re in bed with her one night.

The television show was long forgotten about ten minutes into the series, and she sees your crinkled brow under the covers. You’re not frustrated, far from it actually, and she’s relieved when she hears your heartbeat is steady.

Your body moves on its own accord. Gently shifting your position to sit up. Natasha immediately locks eyes with you, and turns down the volume with her other hand.

“Can you hold me?”

Her answer is a smile, and her eyes softening before meeting your own.

"May I?' She asks.

You give a nod, before she adjusts herself. Her movements aren’t as quick as her reflexes, she gives you the opportunity to see everything she’s doing, and the power to stop this.

You feel her hands brush against your sleep shirt, the warmth leaving as soon as it came. Her movements stop, as she gives you a moment to take in the result of her ministrations.

She’s under you, so many strands of red hair you try not count splayed all over her pillows, her hands hovering over the small of your back. Her eyes never leaving yours for a second.

“Is this-“

Her breath hitches when you take the initiative. Your hands find hers like your life depends on it, and she feels your body relax under her when you find the missing piece.

You see her look at you, and there’s something different about her.

You're beautiful

You both move in sync, you reach down as she rises to connect your foreheads together.

“How does this feel?”

Natasha’s voice is a mere whisper in the dimly illuminated room. Her raspy tone is prominent, calming, and intoxicating all at the same time. Hands ghost against your waist, holding you steady.

You lean in closer, your lips inches apart from hers.

“It feels like you..”

It does, everything feels like Natasha. From the way she holds you, to how she’s kissing you right now in this moment.

Her lips are velvet against yours, full of devotion, and adoration just for you. You take it all in, you feel it all in the kiss, and it’s euphoric.

It feels so…good, and warm, and soft and safe.

And you never want it to stop feeling this way.

You both pull away, and Natasha gives you a different smile, one that’s like the sun.

“It’s real…” she whispers incredulously. “This is real.”

“It is.” You whisper

It truly is.

You both find each other’s hands, and press your foreheads together.

Natasha squeezes, ever so softly.

“It’s always real when I’m with you”

Oh woww!! I love your new Colourful series, it's really good!! I'm really interested because their relationship started off really fast and quick so I'm looking forward to where it goes👀

The way you set up the whole reveal of Natasha's personality with the temptation of snooping online and in person, then feeling disappointed when the relationship and Nat's personality doesn't quite meet expectations was also done really well- If you meant it as a re-occurring theme lol🥰

The "lore" of the red soul bonds and the destructiveness (murder suicides) contrasted with the super strong life changing bonds was something I really enjoyed as well. I'm not sure if this is meant to be a dark Nat series, but I'm really enjoying seeing her true colours, she is so charismatic- suave (as you said💕) and like a dream almost yet she seems so jealous and possessive of what is "hers" like the first few chapters where she is uncharacteristically anxious, it is written super well!! I feel like Natasha is already very attached to reader because this is her first soul bond, and I suspect something she was super looking forward to after defecting from the red room

Also I'm not sure if you remembered an old comment I made on your other series but I'm really happy to read a somewhat 'darkish' series about Natasha falling for reader this time! Your writing has also gotten a lot better, the scene transitions are smoother and make more sense!! I'm also a personal fan of the plot as I'm interested to see how you write Nat falling for the ""original"" this time, we all know what happened with Katya haha

I tried to send this as an ask twice but my tumblr is acting out so I'm doing this as a reblog instead😅

Colorful - Mini Chapter 6.5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 6

But it turns out, there are a lot of expectations.

You wake up to more missed calls and text messages than you’ve ever had in your entire life.

ClaireBear: HUNTY! WTF?!

ClaireBear: CALL ME BACK THIS INSTANT OR I AM GOING ON TIKTOK ABOUT HOW MY SISTER IS THE BLACK WIDOWS SOUL BOND

ClaireBear: I swear to fucking all my lort hoebag if you don’t call me back by tonight I’m telling MeeMaw and I’m going over there with the receipts.

Ugh. 15 year olds are fun. You do need to call her though.

Yari: SO I was about to text you because I was a little concerned that you haven’t come home in like a week, but I don’t pry. But girl. Next time maybe tell me before I see it on TMZ. We’re friends… also are you moving out? Also are you still coming tonight?

You are friends. New friends but, she’s your roommate and you like her and you really should have let her know you weren’t dead this week.

Grubs: LOL OH MY GOD (shit ton of emojis)

Texts from unknown numbers and people you kinda knew in high school, your cousin in Birmingham and…

Ponyboy: Fuck you. I would have told you. I would have told you first.

Fuck.

You crawl out of bed, Natasha still sound asleep beside you, and go take a shower, scrubbing away the makeup you didn’t bother to take off last night.

She’s still sleeping when you dress yourself back in her clothes and walk into her kitchen to make her coffee and toast.

When she finally does emerge from down the hall, you’re reminded again of why you don’t really drink and you smirk a little into your coffee at her obvious struggle.

But she looks so cute like this -- soft and a little disoriented -- messy red braid, baggy gray shorts, smudged black eyeliner. She looks very normal. Very human. Very attainable.

But the texts and calls are rolling harsh in your stomach and they are a rude reminder of something you already knew--. This was too fast. You weren’t ready. And you didn’t trust your gut which is making itself so well known now you’re not even sure you can drink anymore coffee.

Still you smile when she walks up behind you in her cozy, vulnerable space, and wraps her arms around you and kisses your cheek. You are so happy, so relieved, that despite all of your discomfort and uncertainty, when her lips touch your cheek and her hands brush the bare skin of your abdomen, your bond doesn’t seem to reflect your concerns. It’s the same smoky, shiny red that it usually is.

And you want to keep it like that forever.

You’re so sick of watching gold turn to sand.

But this started way too fast and even though you know she won’t agree, you have to slow it down if it’s going to stand a chance.

You tried that before once. You thought everything would be ok as soon as that beautiful boy touched you and your souls connected. As far as you were concerned, you might as well have gotten married at that frat party covered in beer wearing someone else's dress. You were destined.

And you tried so hard for so long and so did he and it got… so ugly.

Maybe if you’d actually taken the time to fall in love with each other instead of just assuming that you should, you could have both saved yourselves a lot of pain.

And you promised yourself you would never again be the girl who lived for her soulbonds. You’d make your own way in the world.

Then the second you meet your next soulbond you're tripping all over yourself to do the same thing - keep them happy, make them love you - even though you know how that ends.

Pain pain pain. On both ends.

You squeeze the hands she has wrapped around your waist before carefully untangling yourself and making your way further into her kitchen to pour her a mug of coffee. (Her own coffee. That you’d just taken the liberty to make).

She takes the mug from you graciously and sits herself at her kitchen counter before asking, “So what should we do today?”

You tense a little and school your face before turning back around from the coffee pot to face her and say as casually as you can, “Well, I need to go back to my place in a few.”

She looks confused. “What? Why?” She asks.

You sigh.

“Natasha I haven’t been home since Wednesday. It’s Saturday morning, I have literally been wearing your underwear, Babe,” you laugh a little. “I just need to go home for a while.”

“OK,” she’s quick to agree, “Let me just change real quick, I can take you by your place to get some stuff.”

“No,” you cut her off a little more harshly than you meant to but you stop yourself and start again. “No, I can take the train, the station is right across the street. It’ll be faster anyways. Also, I have plans tonight.”

She goes still and her eyes narrow and you know what she’s thinking when she asks in monotone, “What plans?”

He’s here now. She knows. And that’s what she thinks your plans are.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and get defensive. Because those AREN’T your plans and you’re allowed to have a life. You drain the rest of your coffee.

“My roommate, Yari, she’s a photographer,” you calmly explain. “She has a showing tonight in a little gallery in Chelsea. You know, cheap wine and shitty cheese plates, but it’s a big deal for her.”

“Oh,” Natasha’s stiff shoulders sag. “That’s great. Can I come?”

What, no. And also how rude....

“Um,” you start. “I don’t… I don’t think that’s the best idea. This is a big moment for her, and, in case you haven’t noticed, you and I tend to pull a lot of focus. I don’t want to upstage her at her own show.”

It’s the truth but it’s only one of them and it’s the easier one and you just hope she can accept that as gracefully as she took her coffee.

“Yeah, ok that makes sense.” She sounds disappointed but not mad. “So you’re coming back here after, then?”

You swallow. “I’m not sure,” That’s a lie. You’re sure you aren’t. “I don’t know what the after party plans are.” She looks so sad, “But either way, let’s get brunch tomorrow, ok?” you give her what you hope is a reassuring smile.

“Yes. Absolutely!” she agrees quickly. “I’ll pick you up in the morning at 11 if… if you don’t come back tonight.”

You flash her a big grin as you make your way out of the kitchen and towards the elevator to leave. “Sounds great!” you say. “See you in the morning!”

“(Y/N),” she stops you as your hand pushes the down button. “I really do hope you come back here tonight.”

“We’ll see!” you say much more cheery than you feel just as the elevator doors slide open to take you back down into the world.

Tags: @hoeforwandanat @krispytidalwavesheep @blackxwidowsxwife

HI HAPPY NEW YEAR- mediocre nat and r having a night out and r saying goodbye after nat drops her off but not saying she loves her and nat is like ?? hello??

hello thats very cute and in character but i am so tired ive been ready to collapse for like over a day so whatever tf im writing after this is what ur getting

This Friday date night goes a lot better than Nat's McDonald's fuckery from last week. You take her to that bar she likes near work, paying for the french fries you shared and the first two rounds. There was some game playing on the TV that you don't really follow but Nat clearly does because she laughs every time one of the teams fails. You don't think she really has a sports team she roots for and she admits she just picks the one with nicer uniforms to care about anytime sports comes on the TV.

When her team of the night wins, she plants a kiss on you that has someone at the bar hollering. You wince when she pulls away to glower at the man.

After that, you'd looped your arm around hers and you'd had a nice walk through the park. Skipped rocks in the pond. She had done a better job. In character, of course, but annoying nonetheless.

Tomorrow, she leaves for a mission, so she has to head to the tower tonight to pack up her gear and you've got an empty house for the foreseeable future.

It's sad.

You spend the car ride to your house gripping her hand and staring at the streetlights. Nat turns up the radio and taps the steering wheel to the beat of the song.

Nat leaps out of the car the moment she pulls into your driveway while you twist around to grab your tote bag from the backseat. When Nat comes and opens your door for you, you smile and take her hand.

Still, there's a sense of melancholy falling over you already. You sigh for the fifteenth time tonight and Nat just squeezes your fingers.

"I'll be back before you know it," she says into your shoulder while you fish your keys out of your bag.

"Now I have to take the bus to work," you say, sullenly.

"Tony would probably get you a car service if you asked."

You huff. Sometimes, you can't tell if she's fucking with you or if she's really that dense. One of the downsides of how casual the two of you are with each other, how often you poke fun at each other.

"What?" she huffs when you stomp to the living room to throw your bag on the couch.

"Now I have to fuck myself if I get horny." You spin quickly to glower at her. "And don't even say anything about Tony. We both know you'd probably commit some sort of atrocity if I ever did that just because you're emotionally constipated."

Nat scowls too. "Pot kettle black much."

The both of you squint at each other for a few long moments before you give in--always you first--and cross the distance to where she's leaning in your doorway.

Nat watches, impassive, as you pick up her hands. Lets you tug her closer to your body. "You know I own a cellphone, right?"

"Phone sex?" you mumble into her shoulder. "On the job?"

You can basically hear her eye roll. "No. You are so not getting off while I'm gone. But you don't have to act like I've got a terminal illness just because I'm going on a business trip."

Business trip. As if her business trip isn't some life-endangering superspy mission in god-knows-where, Europe, involving superhumans and, like, missiles.

"Come on," she says, pulling back so she can bump your chin up with your linked hands. "Send me pictures of your meals or whatever the hell normal people do."

"You'd just leave me on read," you grumble.

"I'll send you pictures of MREs so you can ignore me too." She's aiming for levity.

You are too down in the dumps to do anything but force a tiny smile and lean in for a quick kiss. She has to go soon. Too soon.

Nat tilts her head to catch your eyes. There's a hint of concern on her face. "Back before you know it."

"Don't break into my house again," you say, hoping your smile is more convincing this time. She's a superhero. No need to worry about a clingy girlfriend.

"No promises." She presses in for another kiss before stepping back, releasing your hands. "Bye, baby."

"Okay," you say with a heaving sigh, leaning on your door. Usually, you would watch her get in her car, wave at her through the window, and then disappear down the street.

Today, Nat does not move an inch. Looks at you expectantly.

She raises her eyebrows. "...bye."

You frown. "Bye?" you say slowly.

Still, she waits.

"Don't die," you offer. No movement. "...I would be sad."

Nope.

"I might even cry."

"Jesus," Nat growls out, spinning on her heel and storming off your porch. She's actually mad. You can tell.

You fumble with the door, making sure it's unlocked, before chasing after Nat. She's already at the wheel by the time you're knocking on her window.

She gives the wheel a look so searing, you're surprised it still has the gall to exist. Then, she rubs at her eye with an aggravated fist. Then, the window rolls down and she looks over at you with a tired look.

"What did I do?" you ask immediately, hands curling over the car door.

"Nothing."

You reach out to touch her cheek, something inside your chest aching something fierce when she flinches. "Nat," you say softly, voice thin from how much this hurts. Unexpected hurt, really. Pot kettle black, indeed. "Come on."

"I," she starts, stops to wince, continues with more gusto: "I will miss you."

"I'll miss you too," you reply quickly, hand tilting her face to look more fully at you. "If you died, I think I would never recover."

"I won't die," she murmurs into your palm, eyes pinned on you now.

"Promise?"

Nat smiles, a small roll to her eyes. "Sure, I promise."

"Okay." You nod, tipping onto your toes and tugging her face in to meet you in a chaste kiss. "I love you, okay? If you break your promise, I'll kill you."

Nat looks at you like you've hung the moon and the stars in the sky. Disguised, of course, by a wry shake of the head. "Haven't broken a promise to you yet. Won't start now. But also that made no sense."

"Get off my property, truther."

Nat grins, then, yanks you in for another hard kiss before letting you back up a few steps.

Her taillights disappear around the bend. Your heart feels heavy in your chest. She'll be back before you know it.

These Hands of Yours Pt. 2

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, talks of therapy and allat, bruises, anxiety and whatnot

Summary: Can you forgive Natasha after she attacks you in her sleep?

A/N: again, a very rushed ending bc I literally never know how to end anything. even essays, corny ass ending.

Part 1

The sun shining through your window was what woke you up the next morning. When you opened your eyes you were met with Natasha’s green eyes that were a little puffy from last night. Her hand was still tightly intertwined with yours, her thumb rubbing you softly.

“Hi.” She whispered out quietly. You could finally see her features perfectly with the sunlight now covering the whole room instead of the moonlight. You watched as her gaze traveled down to your neck, and the events of last night flooded through your brain. You tensed up, and Natasha noticed.

“Good morning.” You replied in the same tone. You looked at everything but her, knowing that you would break down if you continued to look at her. Tears were unwilling pooling in your eyes, and you felt Natasha squeeze your hand.

“Baby,” she said in a pleading voice. “It’s okay. You can let it out now, Y/n.” You closed your eyes and shook your head, unable to speak any words due to the lump forming in your throat. “Can you look at me, please?”

A sob escaped from your lips at her comforting tone. Her voice soft and reassuring which is exactly what you needed to finally let go.

“I was s- so scared, Nat.” She pulled you into her chest, holding you closely as you cried and vented. “I- I thought t-that you were upset with me about earlier,” She closed her eyes as more tears formed in them, guilt flooding through her body.

“A-and then when I realized you weren’t yourself I was even m-more scared. You weren’t responding and I tried so hard to- I didn’t know what to do.” With all of the talking and crying you were gasping for air at this point, and Natasha sat the both of you up.

“I- couldn’t… I didn’t, Nat.” You were still crying and hyperventilating. She held your face in her hands, forcing you to look at her.

“Y/n. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, detka, but I need you to try and breathe, okay?” Natasha grabbed your hands and placed them on her chest, hers going back to hold your head in place. “Follow my breathing, detka. You can do it.”

You copied Natasha. Breathing in when she did, and out. It took a few minutes for you to finally calm down enough, being reduced to whimpers and sniffles. You were still breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath when you spoke up again.

“I didn’t know what to do, well I couldn’t do anything.” Your eyes drifted down to the bed sheets. “One of your hands was holding both of mine down until I slipped one out.” Natasha closed her eyes and brought you closer to her, kissing your forehead before resting it against hers.

“I am so, so sorry I put you through that, detka. I’m so sorry.” Tears were streaming down your face as you nodded at her. “I’ll do everything I can to make it up to you, okay?”

You shook your head and opened your mouth to tell Natasha that she didn’t need to do that, but she cut you off before you could speak.

“It wasn’t up for debate, Y/n.” You looked at her and only saw love mixed with guilt in her eyes, her hands hovering over you as if she was scared to break you. The ever so caring Natasha Romanoff here in front of you would never intentionally hurt you, and you knew that.

“I uh… I’m still a bit shaken up.” You mumbled out.

“Talk to me.” She demanded gently. By now you were both sitting face to face with your legs crossed on the bed. Her hands were on your knees while you played with yours in your lap.

“Well,” you gestured to your neck and shook your head, Natasha nodded in understanding. She knew when to push you to talk, and when to wait patiently for you to open up. For now she would do the latter.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments before your stomach grumbled. You groaned out of embarrassment and put your face in your hands. Natasha laughed lightly.

“I’ll go make breakfast. Is that okay?.” Natasha said while patting your legs. You nodded at her and smiled softly. She kissed your forehead and she hovered over your lips before pulling away. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” You answered her by pulling her back towards you, your lips connecting with hers in a soft kiss. She smiled when the kiss ended.

“I’ll be back. I love you.”

“Love you too.” You watched as she walked out of the bedroom, and the tension released from your body. You went to the bathroom to clean yourself up and your chest tightened at the sight of your neck. A dark red and purple mark where Natasha’s hand pressed against you was present, and you knew there was no way you could hide it from anyone.

You sighed and got ready for the day.

In the kitchen, Natasha was leaning on the counter with her head in her hands. She was beating herself up for allowing the stress to consume her to the point where she hurt you. In more ways than one. She thought back to how she snapped at you, and let you fall asleep alone. Natasha thought back to how scared and small you looked when you backed away from her after she had choked you. Tears were streaming down her face as she tried to suppress her sobs.

“Nat?” She straightened up her posture at the sound of your voice and busied herself with grabbing food out of the fridge. She turned around when she heard your footsteps get louder, and she melted at the sight of you in her hoodie and sweats. They were both a bit big on you, but neither of you minded.

“Yes, detka?” She asked as she set the food on the counter. She started to get bowls and pans out as you sat down on a stool at the counter.

“You need any help with anything? I can make the eggs while you do the pancakes?” You asked hopefully, but hesitantly. Your anxiety was telling you that you didn’t want to upset her again. You watched as she sighed and your heart dropped. Her demeanor the same as last night when she snapped at you while working.

“Are you sure you’re okay to be around me?” All of your worries washed away after hearing her small voice. You realized she wasn’t mad at you, but at herself. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, and clenched your fist to stop your hands from shaking.

“I- Yes. Natasha I’m okay to be around you.” She just shook her head.

“I can read you like a book you know?” She crossed her arms and looked at you softly. “I can see how on edge you are right now, and I don’t want you to feel like that around me.” You stayed silent. “Y/n, if you need space then I think you should take it.”

You fiddled with your hands and stared at your lap. You knew she was right. The whole situation was making your anxiety go crazy, and you didn’t want to feel like that around her either. Of course, deep down you know that she would never intentionally harm you, but your mind wasn’t letting it go so easily.

“I think…” You started and kept your gaze low. “I think you’re right, but I don’t want to break up.” You could see her move closer in the corner of your eye, and you looked up at her when she was in front of you.

“We’re not breaking up, baby.” She whispered out. Your eyes locked with hers as she cupped your cheeks with her cold hands. You leaned into her touch, the heat from your cheeks sending a wave of comfort through Natasha. “I just want you to be able to sleep with out having to worry about me. Maybe I can go stay at the compound for a bit.”

Tears were building in your eyes now, and she wiped them away. “What about the spare bedroom here?” You asked meekly.

“If that’s what you’re comfortable with.” She smiled when you nodded, and you found yourself doing the same. She leaned down and pressed her lips against yours softly but passionately. She pulled away and your eyes fluttered open when she cleared her throat. “I really am sorry about yesterday.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Natty, you were having a nightmare.” You frowned at her.

“No, not about that. Well, yes about that but no. I’m sorry for snapping at you. This mission is just bringing up a lot for me, and you were right I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” You were still sitting on the stool looking up at her, and you could tell she was about to cry again so you wrapped your arms around her and nuzzled your head into her stomach.

“I forgive you, just please talk to me instead next time. Or…” You trailed off not knowing how she was going to react with your next words.

“Or what?” She asked, her hands running through your hair and keeping your head on her.

“Or you could try therapy?” You felt her hands stop their actions. “I know you said you’ve went before, but if the job is pushing you to the point where you’re acting out in your sleep then maybe it’s time to go back.” She sighed and continued to flow her hands through your hair.

“You’re right. I’ll call Pepper to see if she knows any good ones, okay?” She felt you smile and nod against her stomach, your arms squeezing her a little tighter. “Now let’s get some food into your stomach before you go all Hangry Hulk on me.” You gasped and playfully shoved her away.

“You swore you would stop calling me Hangry Hulk!” You glared at the smirk on her face and crossed your arms. “Not funny.”

“That cute little angry face of yours is just proving my point, detka.” Your face burned and she laughed as she started on the food.

After Natasha called Pepper she told you that her therapy sessions with a Dr. Raynor starts next week. She told you that Dr. Raynor has helped Bucky and still does, so Pepper is sure that she can help Natasha as well. You told her how proud of her you were for trying, and that you were still there if she needed you to be.

The next three weeks were spent with Natasha sleeping in the guest room. She’s been meeting Dr. Raynor twice a week, and Natasha could physically feel the weight leaving her shoulders after ever session.

The fourth week you finally caved and snuck into the guest room when Natasha was asleep. You woke her up and asked her to hold you, and she did so without a second thought. Your mind and heart were finally on the same page about Natasha, your anxieties no longer consuming your every thought when you were around her.

The trust you had for Natasha was never gone, but it only wavered after that night. Now though, after weeks of reassuring, comforting, and chasing away each other’s fears, the two of you were better than ever.

And you still trusted her more than anything.

OMG YALL HORNY THOT: beefy!nat having you on her lap, your camisole is up and your tits are out, the camera is on for you guys’ live stream, her large hands are caressing your skin and the way she can feel your ribs when you arch your back into her palms, she loves it, she adores it and the way she pinches and flicks your nipples has you squirming... it’s all mysterious cuz the two of you never show faces but in the camera, you can see the red hair and the purple marks on your collar bones and that’s the only clue the two of you ever give... WET ASF

Y/n: Do you have any skeletons in your closet? Natasha: You mean literally or figuratively? Y/n: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

the winter woodworker

pairing: nat/f!reader

summary:

You spit out your name in blind fear when the woman steps closer as a threat. “My car broke down on the road. I was cold and-and scared, and the door was unlocked, and your house was- is very warm. And, um, nice.”

The woman looks at you for a long moment. You can’t really make out any features through the cloth wrapped around her nose and mouth, and the beanie tugged low on her head, but you can see the jade green of her eyes as she glares.

You twist up your sleeves. “Um, I like your, uh, your coat rack.”

notes: nsfw, mostly fluff, some smut, this bitch is long! 8k i think! basically nat hasnt talked to a human in months and youre also just a big naive idiot brat and shes very nice to u even tho she makes fun of u and makes u feel awkward because it amuses her

(ao3)

Keep reading

Marching On

(Bruce / Tony / Clint / Steve / Natasha)

Masterlist

(Gifs not mine)

(After the events of the Avengers, everyone moves into the tower; such broken people saved the world.)

1/ Bruce

He thinks she doesn’t like him.

It’s fair, he supposes, after the events on the helicarrier. He purposefully stays out of her way for the first month at least.

It’s easier when there are others around, and everyone makes an effort. Tony engages him in conversations of biomechanics and the theory of nanotech; and he watches Steve awkwardly adapt to the niceties of having money and time to live that’s not in war.

Clint, he watches more than the others. His quick smile and easy humour is genuine that he can tell, and he finds that when he’s quite he can hear the intelligence of the archer in all the things he doesn’t say.

.

Bruce moves into the Tower at Tony’s request. He’s been a nomad for so long that he figures it doesn’t really matter where he stays, and Tony promises to pump money into the vaccine program in India, where Natasha found him.

It’s probably more good than he’ll ever do.

There’s mandated therapy for all of them after the events of New York.

Guilt tears at him and he tries to explain to the therapist that he has had enough therapy for a lifetime, he knows he’s responsible for multiple deaths, and it’s things he lives with daily.

He tells her that her time would be better used with people that actually need it; children that have lost parents, people who have lost their partners, those that are injured, traumatised… the list could go on.

He should be last on the list, he tells her, of people getting help, and with that he’s promptly signed up to fortnightly sessions.

Tony laughs when he tells him, and says she said the same to him. He clasps him on the back and leads him to his lab.

“Build something,” Tony advises, “it helps.”

And Bruce knows that he’s made the right decision in coming here.

.

He likes watching people.

Clint the most, he thinks.

Tony is predictable.

Steve is aloof, polite.

And where there’s Clint, there’s usually Natasha.

It’s rare that they aren’t together and he can see how protective she is of him.

It’s little things. The way she walks through the door last, checking his back. The way she makes sure he eats, and refuses when he offers her some.

And the way she is quick with her words whenever anyone says a bad word against him.

She can be caustic where Tony is blunt, matches Steve’s quietness and there’s times that he’s left the room at her suggestion but it’s felt like his own idea.

He likes watching Clint, because it means he can also watch Natasha.

.

He feels particularly rattled after a therapy session, and he passes Natasha going in.

“Good luck,” he murmurs, and she smiles shallowly at him. He doesn’t think much of it and heads straight to bed even though it’s just after 3pm.

He wakes up some time around midnight, his stomach rumbling and his throat parched.

His room holds snacks, but he wants the left over fried rice they had two nights prior.

A beer would also be good, he thinks, even if the buzz he once experienced no longer occurs.

Slowly moving to the kitchen, he finds Natasha sitting at the breakfast bar eating cereal.

Purposely, he makes some noise to alert her to his presence but she already knows, standing and moving around the bench bringing her bowl with her, throwing the rest of the food into the disposable.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he opens with.

She shrugs.

“Was done,” she says, with a tired smile.

Bruce nods and pulls the rice from the fridge. Looks for the beer and pulls out two, offering her one that is declined as she seems caught between keeping him company and sneaking out.

“You can go,” he tells her, putting the food in the microwave and opening the beer as it cooks.

It works to catch her and social pressure makes her sit.

“You couldn’t sleep, either?”

Natasha watches him closely, as he pulls the hot food out and shakes his hands against the heat. He feels idiotic around her.

In a moment of abject honestly, she shakes her head.

“Clint had a nightmare,” she says, not looking at him.

Bruce finds it interesting, that in the middle of the night is when Natasha is most honest.

He nods, sitting next to her with his food and beer.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks.

He doubts that she will, as silence fills the kitchen.

So he offers up some of himself.

“Today in therapy,” he starts, “we talked about hyper vigilance and how I over obsess… over-estimate, maybe, the potential for danger at any given moment.” He takes another bite and wonders where he’s going with this.

“The practice was to be more mindful but not fearful of my surroundings.”

He scoffs.

“Why does therapy always seem so draining?” he finishes. He starts eating again, not expecting answers, even almost expecting her to leave as he sips his beer and finishes off the rice.

Natasha watches him closely, he feels her gaze run over him, and it’s likely that this is what the therapist was talking about.

“There’s three doors in this room, I have two guns ready, ones under the table,” she pauses.

“Tony is in the lab, Clint is asleep in his bed, and Steve is in the gym,” cocking her head, she stares at him.

“And you’re in here eating.”

Straight faced, they make eye contact.

“I think we must have had similar conversations.” She smirks.

Bruce grins.

“Tony should get a refund, that’s two for one advice,” he jokes.

“Was your homework the same too?” He laughs.

She grows serious, and he wonders what he said. As much as he watches her, he still has no idea what she’s thinking.

“Small acts of trust,” she says, as she stands and heads for the fridge.

He laughs.

“At least it’s tailored to our particular issues,” he deadpans.

He watches as she takes some string cheese from the fridge, slowly opening it, and pulling it apart.

He stands and disposes of his bowl and as he turns he watches her chew on the cheese as she disposes of the rest.

Shrugging, Natasha yawns, and bids him good night.

He replies in kind, and, as Bruce heads back to bed, it occurs to him that it was likely Natasha practicing what the therapist had asked of her.

Even if to him it seemed like nothing.

.

There’s a difference, Bruce notices in the way Natasha acts with him.

It seems that on days that therapy occurs they end up in the kitchen at midnight. Sometimes Clint is there, sometimes Tony.

It’s like a repair of sorts, where he offers her something of himself and when he’s lucky she offers something back.

Small acts of trust, he thinks, is a lesson they’re all learning.

.

pov: you survived 2021

𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 || 𝐧. 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟

a/n: because @twilight-99-tm and I couldn't get needy top beefy!Natasha out of our heads.. really that's all, hope y'all like porn! Technically a part of my Kinktober, but it's not a request, I just wanted to write this really badly

warnings: 18+, minors DNI; smut; strap-on sex {r receiving}; sex from behind; kinda restraint just because Nat is really strong, but all consensual obviously; denial/teasing {Nat receiving}; dirty talk {mutual}; a little overstim at the end if you squint; pet names {Natasha calls R baby}

summary: When Natasha comes back one night, she needs to alleviate an ache which just so happens to manifest itself in the form of making sure you're taken care of

words: 1.1K

kinktober event. || kinktober masterlist. || main masterlist.

“Please?”

Her words were so soft, way too whiny to be considered anywhere domineering. But her arms.. they kept you pinned in place, cheek pressed tight into the pillows below as your girlfriend practically rut against your backside. “I don’t know.. why should I?”

It was a cruel game you were playing, knowing she’d never do anything you said no to— but currently you were only saying no to torture Natasha. The thick length of her strap dragged back and forth between your folds, legs kept spread by the redhead’s strong thighs. “I know you want it as badly as I do… don’t be stubborn, malyshka.” Two groans rang in unison as the tip of her piece nudged against your clit, the devious part of the toy buried inside Natasha hitting a surprisingly sensitive spot. “I’ll fuck you until you’re begging me to stop. It’ll be so good, I promise, just— please.”

You hated denying her, especially when she was begging so sweetly in your ear, offering anything your heart desired if you’d just let her have this one thing, “But Natty…” Sleep was so close to claiming you when she’d come in, stealthily as ever. It was a mistake to think Natasha had come to bed so early just to cuddle with you, but you’d settled in her embrace easily, breathing in her sweet scent. When her slightly calloused hands began roaming your body, tugging at your flimsy sleep shorts, you knew you were done for. Something about your girlfriend coming to you so needy, so insistent that she couldn’t wait, drenched you in an instant and when you felt the telltale bulge of her favorite strap on press against the curve of your ass, it took everything in you not to cum on the spot. You’d managed though and theorized that you couldn’t not take advantage of her neediness.

So rarely was she in the mood to show you outwardly how much she yearned for you and so often, you gave in right away, letting her escape the need to beg. Not this time. “I know, I know you’re tired, but you don’t have to do anything. Just let me take care of you?” Ultimately, it was the fact that, amorous as she was, Natasha still only wanted to make you feel good that broke you. You’d never hear it aloud, but watching you come undone as many times as you could for her, crying out until your voice was hoarse and your only thoughts were her and how perfectly she was fucking you— that was better than chasing her own high.

The knowledge that you needed her as much as she needed you fueled her very soul, you knew it did. Every time Natasha’s pupils dilated just a tad bit wider when you asked for her and only her, when you sought her out amongst a crowd of people, when you were the one pleading for her to alleviate the ache between your legs; she adored tending to any need you brought to her. “Go on, fuck me. Fill me up how only you can.”

Exactly what she wanted to hear, Natasha pulled back just enough to align your bodies, one hand gripping your hip hard as if she was scared you’d twist away and deny her again. She sank in with little problem, your body accommodating the stretch and welcoming sting easily, “So ready for me and I hadn’t even touched you… did you get off on making me ask you to open up for me?” Her movements were slow and steady, drawing out each push and pull so you could truly feel every inch of her.

Natasha only let you move a little, just enough for her to know you wanted more, but not enough freedom to take what you needed. Needy as she was, Natasha was in control; she determined what you needed when. “Natasha… harder, go harder,” Like clockwork, her hips sped up, driving you almost painfully into the mattress.

“Like that, baby? You want me to fuck me so hard you’re walking crooked for the rest of the week?” You nodded, teeth biting down on your poor pillow as your fist balled the edge of your girlfriend’s shirt in a death grip. A rough hand met the swell of your ass with a sharp slap that left you crying out; Natasha wanted to hear you. “Words. Use them.”

When her words got clipped, it only meant one thing: she was close. “Fuck— fuck me, hard as you can.. ruin me.” Natasha’s pace quickened with your admission, frantic as she neared the onset of what she’d been waiting so long for. Holding back wasn’t an option for either of you, unabashed in using each other for your own pleasure. “Like that.. please, Natasha..!”

“You’re taking me so well, so deep,” Self-indulgent as she was tonight, Natasha knew if she wanted you to come with her, she needed that final push. “Does your needy little clit need some attention?” The only answer you could manage was a weak ‘yes,’ mindlessly trying to gain any friction, but Natasha still held you in place for her perfect angle. Sometimes you resented the fact that the woman never skipped an arm day.

She sacrificed one hand to find yours, guiding them down to where you were obviously dripping under her brutal fucking. Her fingers covered yours as they finally met your sensitive bud, circling and pinching perfectly in time with the silicone toy stretching you open. “N-Nat, I’m gonna.. can I cum? I need it so bad.”

Natasha practically growled, sinking her teeth into your shoulder as she desperately fought off her orgasm before you got yours. “Cum for me, do it now. Be a good girl and cum around my cock.” You came with an echoing cry, your fingers soaked with your own wetness as Natasha gave one final thrust, grinding your hips together until her walls were clenching around the bit inside her. She shuddered heavily, her body falling onto yours as you both came down from your highs.

You fell boneless onto the bed and the redhead followed suit, her front melding against your sweat-sheened back with ease. If you were tired before, you were exhausted now, the force of your activities threatening to drag you into unconsciousness. “Sleepy..”

Your girlfriend only hummed, peppering kisses along the back of your neck, over your shoulder blades, “You did so well for me, baby, I love you.” Her hands smoothed over your arms and hips; the massage should’ve been simple enough, but then the touches turned more suggestive again and stupidly, you tried wiggling away. Of course you didn’t budge and, tired as you were, when Natasha’s fingertips found your weeping entrance again, you pushed into her touch. “Think you can give me one more? I just missed you so much.”

Your head was nodding instantly, whimpering when you felt two fingers enter you to the hilt. The answer was always yes when it was Natasha. “Let me watch you cum again, just want to see you… that’s a good girl.”