#Natasha Romanoff x reader

[yelenasdiary]

soft fluffy nat where the two of you are in love with each other but haven’t confessed. nat is superrrr into the holidays like it surprises everyone but she’s proud of it. she knows you haven’t had the best christmas previous years and she’s determined to make this the best one for you. she loves everything like baking (nat cannot cook that is canon but i honestly think she could bake lowkey😭) putting up the christmas tree in the compound and decorating it. she’s just super soft around christmas and you just fall even more in love with her. you share sweet moments together throughout the days leading up to christmas and eventually the two of you confess and ugh i love soft nat i miss her

Waiting Under The Mistletoe

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Summary: You and Natasha have been struggling to admit your feelings for one another.

Fluff, Tiny Angst

Warnings: None, if there is any, please let me know! | 1.2K

AC: Happy Christmas Eve!!! Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy! x

Holiday Special Masterlist

It was that time of year again, Christmas. The time of year where you felt more of a burden than a blessing, but this year felt different already. The compound had turned from its usual dark grey vibe to bursts of festive spirit and colors. As you walked the hall towards the large meeting room, your eyes took in how perfectly the decorations were hung, compliments to Wanda, so you thought.

“Hey!” Natasha called out, making you stop in your tracks as you turned to face her. She smiled softly at you, “on your way to the meeting?” She asked. 

“Hopefully the last one for the year!” You chuckled as the two of you slowly began to continue the walk to the others. “What do you say we put the Christmas tree up afterwards?” Black Widow asked, making you cock a brow at her. 

“You want to put the tree up?” You asked, intrigued. 

“Of course, I mean, I already decorated half the compound over night” she replied proudly. 

“Wait, you did all this?” You stopped in your tracks once more, surprised by Natasha’s hidden love for the Christmas season. Natasha chuckled, “who do you think did all this?” 

“Wanda” you replied without a second thought. 

“Wanda is Jewish” the red head reminded you. 

“Yeah but she’s always making sure we’re together for Christmas dinner so I just assumed. You love Christmas? That’s kinda cute” you smiled softly. Natasha’s eyes dropped nervously as her iconic smirk tugged at her lips, “so I’ll take that as a yes?” She said, looking back up at you. 

“Alright, but I’m warning you, my tree decorating skills are horrible” you replied.

“I’ll take my chances” Nat playfully winked as the two of you entered the conference room.

It was hard to focus on anything Fury was saying during the meeting with your mind so focused on Natasha and the way her eyes were glued to the piece of paper in front of her, she was always good at putting life aside for work. Outside this room, she was a softy with a love for Christmas but inside the room she was Black Widow, listening to every single word that was said in the meeting with clear understanding. 

Once Fury added his last words, the room was dismissed. Nat looked over at you and smiled softly, “ready to put those horrible tree decorating skills to the test?” She teased making you chuckle lightly. 

“Are you ready for them?” You asked. 

“Like I said, I’ll take my chances, lets go!” 

----

Your heart swelled at Natasha’s enthusiasm; it was infectious as you watched her wrap the LED fairy lights around the fake tree while she hummed her favorite Christmas classic softly to herself. With the others hovering around, picking at the baked goodies Nat had baked last night while watching the tough Black Widow decorate a Christmas tree, you couldn’t help but fall deeper for her.

The room echoed with chatter from those around you, but all you could focus on was Natasha. She caught your eye and for a moment, the noise faded. “Now that the lights are on, help yourself to that box of ornaments and get decorating!” She smiled softly. Her soft tone snapping you back to reality as you gave her a playful grin. 

“I hope you’re ready for this Romanoff!” You teased, reaching for some of the ornaments in the box beside you. She shot back a smile, “are you sure you know where they go?” She asked in a teasing tone. 

“Ha, ha!” You replied sarcastically as you closed the small gap between you and the tree. Natasha stood back for a brief moment to watch you place the first ornament on the tree, she admired the way you took a second to think about where you wanted each ornament to be placed, hanging them on different branches before giving yourself a nod of approval. 

The two of you spent the afternoon hanging ornaments on the large tree and wrapping it in shimmering tinsel that sparkled softly against the fairy lights. Nat still softly hummed her favorite Christmas tunes, and you weren’t sure how long it was until they caught you in their trap. The two of you humming softly while twirling around each other. 

The days leading up to Christmas slipped by in a blur of laughter and sweet moments, each day your feelings growing stronger for the avenger, as if they could get any stronger. From Natasha sweet talking you into baking with her to helping her wrap presents for the others. Every moment felt more magical than the last. 

On Christmas Eve, you found yourself wrapped in a blanket on the sofa, watching holiday movies with the room dimly lit and the tree twinkling softly in the corner. Natasha looked at you for a moment and for that moment, time stood still. 

“Everything okay?” You asked, your cheeks feeling warm. 

“Yeah” she smiled softly, “everything is perfect” she added.

----

Christmas morning, you woke up to the sound of laughter echoing through the compound. You couldn’t believe you had slightly slept in, you rushed down the stairs where you found Natasha already locking eyes with you. She smiled softly, “good morning sleepy head” she greeted. 

“You didn’t wake me?” You questioned, almost forgetting there were others in the room. 

“Come here” she replied softly, her eyes sparkling from the tree beside her. 

You stepped closer, your heart racing as you realized what was hanging above the redhead. Your cheeks flushed under her glaze as you closed the gap between you two. “I’ve been waiting for this” she said, her voice soft like marshmallows. “I want to tell you something” she paused, her expression shifting ever so slightly. 

“These last few weeks have made me the happiest I’ve ever been in a long time and it’s because I got to spend every moment with you” she started, smiling softly. “You make me so happy, I love everything we have shared since we met. I’ve been too afraid to say anything to you because I’d hate myself if I ruined what we already have but, I’m so deeply in love with you that not telling you was driving me crazy. Last night, I wanted to kiss you and tell you but I didn’t want to ruin the moment” she added. 

The room fell silent, time standing still as you processed her words. You pinched yourself wondering if you were still asleep, dreaming of a different life but the pain was very much real and the woman you adored was standing in front of you, under a mistletoe, telling you how she felt. 

“I love you too” you finally said, your voice slightly breaking with emotions, “I’ve wanted to say that for so long” you added. 

A smile broke on Nat’s face, her hands gently placed on your hips as she pulled you closer. “Merry Christmas” she whispered before her lips pressed against yours, making sure you knew that she meant every single word. Kissing you deeply, the two of you not caring that half the compound just watched everything unfold. 

“Best Christmas ever” you whispered against her lips, her arms wrapped around you. She smiled softly, “agreed”.

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[please-destroy]

A Place To Be

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

.

You’d been training for this your whole life. 

It had taken effort, determination and skill to become one of the best Shield agents. It was a long journey but you were starting to be proud of the person you’d become. 

You hadn’t ever thought about one day becoming an Avenger, it didn’t seem like something that could be possible. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing when you were called to Fury’s office. Your mouth hung open as he explained that the request to join had come from a member of the team itself. 

Fury had gone on to outline your new training regime and the changes that this promotion would involve. Every detail, from moving to the Avengers Tower to training with Captain America felt like a dream.

You lay that night, your final night in the Shield Residential Quarters, and stared up at the familiar grey ceiling. It was hard to sleep, the events of the day had already felt like a perfect dream. You thought about the request to join. You felt confident it must have been Clint Barton. 

You’d trained in the presence of both Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton before and you’d naturally excelled at target practice, especially from long distances. It seemed like the sort of thing he’d notice.

.

Moving into the Avengers Tower was daunting. Carrying a rucksack with your most prized possession, you gazed around at the bright modern interiors. 

You’d disembarked from a Quinjet on the roof, before being directed through the building by the AI system. Standing there in a communal living room, expecting  your arrival were the other Avengers. 

You were surprised by the openness of the team to a new recruit. Each person greeted you with real warmth when they met you for the first time.

Natasha’s enthusiasm was the most muted. From the beginning, you noticed a carefulness whenever she addressed you. She gave you a small wave in greeting, instead of the hug or handshake offered by the others. She held back quietly as the team asked you questions and welcomed you to the building. 

You worried self consciously that she could tell just how excited you were to meet her properly. It was impossible to work at a place like Shield without admiring or envying the legend of the Black Widow from afar. Even small details from her missions spread like wildfire around that organisation. You’d heard every impressive rumour about Natasha Romanoff. 

Your paths had barely crossed during her time at Shield, but Natasha had always been unforgettable. 

You remembered the first time she’d smiled at you. It was during one of the target practice sessions that you’d excelled at. Clint had whooped loudly when you’d made an unlikely shot. The loud celebratory noise should have been what you remembered most from that session. But instead, it was Natasha’s pleased smile, arms crossed from where she stood quietly by the door. 

She’d looked beautiful. It had struck you then, and it still struck you now. 

Secretly, more than any other worry you had about Natasha’s quiet behaviour. You were afraid that maybe, despite your best efforts, she could tell you had a crush.

.

Your first in-the-field mission as part of the Avengers was an opportunity to shadow Natasha through an intel gathering assignment. 

You obediently hurried to the briefing room, following an announcement from the building’s AI that an Avengers meeting had been called. You sat in the chair next to Tony, and did your best to focus as the mission was outlined. 

You tried not to look too pleased as the realisation dawned on you that it was a mission for you to join. You were keen for an opportunity to prove yourself as part of the team.

.

Natasha approached you as soon as the meeting was done. You gave her a small smile.

‘I thought wearing necklaces was against Shield protocol.’ Natasha told you bluntly. The smile dropped from your face.

‘Yes. But this is the Avengers. (Y/N)’s playing in the big leagues now.’ Tony reminded her, brushing past the pair of you to exit the room.

‘I’ll keep it tucked under my clothes.’ You tried to assure her, hand reaching automatically to touch the silver charm around your neck. Natasha’s eyes were drawn to the movement. Your throat tightened at her attention.

‘It was from someone who cares about me.’ You added quietly, unable to help being a little defensive.

Natasha’s eyes glanced briefly back to your face. She looked thoughtful.

‘Lucky you.’ She murmured after a moment. You stood dumbly, watching her leave and feeling entirely off balance from the encounter.

.

Your first mission as an Avenger was a shitshow right from the start. 

Unexpected threats, incorrect mission information and a thunderstorm. 

You felt out of your depth from the very beginning. Soon enough, the fatigue of relentless combat began to wear you down even further. 

Natasha led you through the mission with ruthless efficiency. She undoubtedly kept you alive that day. She calmly refused offers of back-up over the comms. Her assuredness was almost undermined by the bullets ripping through the air above your heads. 

She was the best fighter you’d ever seen up close. She moved with a fluidity that reminded you of dance choreography. She never seemed to hesitate, moving from one action into the next. 

You did exactly what you were told; you trusted her instincts more than you trusted yourself.

.

The only time you felt at all useful was at the end of the mission, when you drove the car back to the pick up point.

Natasha had successfully retrieved the information but at the cost of a knife wound to the thigh.

She was dressing the wound herself, using the first aid kit found in the car’s glove compartment. You watched her carefully from the corner of your eye. Despite your worry about her injury and your own poor performance during the mission; you took a moment to marvel at how impressive Natasha had been to watch. She made being brave look easy.

It was only when Natasha’s leg seemed completely bandaged that you felt confident enough to talk. You reminded her quietly about the painkillers that she hadn’t yet touched.

Natasha refused, waving her red-stained hand back at you tiredly. You pressed your lips together, trying to think of a way to change her mind. You fiddled with your necklace absentmindedly, one hand on the wheel. 

‘You need them more.’  Natasha told you, glancing obviously at your own swollen wrist. 

You felt sudden unexpected heat burn your cheeks. Your wrist injury had come from an embarrassing trip and fall. Natasha’s leg wound had come from highly skilled hand to hand combat. Embarrassment flooded you as you realised how incompetent you must seem to her.

You took the painkillers silently and didn’t speak for the rest of the drive. 

.

For the rest of the day following that mission, you were dreading hearing Natasha’s report about your performance. It kept you up that night, like the stress of an upcoming exam result. You knew it couldn’t be good. Natasha clearly thought that you couldn’t even handle a swollen wrist.

You couldn’t have been more surprised when Steve’s hand rested kindly on your shoulder the next afternoon.

‘Sounds like you survived quite the mission.’ He told you simply. ‘Nat said you coped really well, all things considered. Just need a bit more practice with heavy fire scenarios.’

You only nodded in response, startled by the feedback. You wondered if that was what Natasha had really told him. You felt a growing certainty in the pit of your stomach that Steve had censored her report to be kind. 

You imagined Natasha asking Clint why he’d wanted you to join the team. You couldn’t get the image out of your head. It felt too plausible.

.

The next time you saw Natasha was in the communal kitchen area. She hesitated when she looked at you. You felt embarrassed when she glanced down at your now bandaged wrist. The silence between you lengthened uncomfortably. 

After that, you were purposefully quieter around Natasha, a weird kind of shame filling you whenever you caught her eye.

Natasha reflected your energy perfectly back. You often made elevator journeys together in that tense silence that always seemed to linger between you. You’d start to play with your necklace awkwardly and Natasha’s eyes would follow the movement.

Then, you’d think back to her chastisement about wearing it before that first mission and embarrassment would flood you again. 

.

Soon enough, life at the Avengers Tower began to settle into something like routine. The living quarters and regular team practice were effective in helping you get to know your teammates. You began to consider the other Avengers as some of your closest friends. 

As winter approached, you started to take on occasional planned missions with different individual members of the team. You didn’t get assigned again to Natasha. You tried not to think about why.

Though Natasha never avoided you, her carefully neutral tone told you that the awkwardness of your first mission together had not been overcome. 

.

The others definitely noticed the tension between the pair of you. It stood out against your comfortable dynamics of the rest of the group.

Soon, you started to notice their schemes to get the pair of you closer. 

Tony kept trying to encourage Natasha to give you flying lessons in the Quinjet. Every week Steve suggested that you partner up together for some additional training exercise. 

You never said no and neither did she. You never followed up on the suggested plans either. You let them float away, schedules becoming full at the last minute.

.

By the time December rolled around, you’d barely shared a handful of sentences with Natasha and every single one of them had been work-related.

So, when Tony held out an upturned Iron Man helmet filled with folded pieces of paper and told you to pick out your Secret Santa name, there was only one Avenger that you didn’t want to get.

‘This says Natasha.’ You eyed the paper suspiciously, wondering if it was bad luck or another sneaky scheme by the rest of the team to encourage the pair of you to make friends. ‘Do all the other papers say Natasha too?’

Tony snorted. ‘Please. If I was going to cheat at Secret Santa, then all the names in there would be mine.’ He snatched the helmet back before you could see for yourself and hurried away along the corridor.

You never got a definitive answer about the cheating. 

.

You did get a sympathetic pat on the shoulder from Bruce when you asked him quietly for gift ideas for Natasha. 

You were trying not to let the upcoming Secret Santa ruin the holidays for you. But the prospect of buying Natasha a present was beyond intimidating.

Bruce’s first story didn’t help you at all. He told you about the birthday party that the team had planned for Natasha the year before. Clint had loudly protested the idea from the start. He’d argued it was pointless, given that no-one even knew her correct birthday. 

Still, the plan had gone ahead with the surprise party scheduled for an upcoming Saturday. Tony had sourced several extravagant presents on behalf of the team. 

You perked up at this part of Bruce’s story, hoping to get some inspiration for Secret Santa. 

Bruce mentioned the full range of brand new Stark industries tech that had been procured as presents and your hope flattened out. He hadn’t been kidding about extravagant.

Natasha must have gotten wind of the team’s intentions. She disappeared without a trace on the Friday night before the party. She reappeared back in the Tower on the following Monday morning, as if she’d never left.

Within an hour of her return, all the expensive waiting wrapped presents with her name on them had disappeared from the Tower. 

Tony still made occasional comments about it under his breath, but no one had ever addressed it directly with her. When Natasha didn’t want to talk about something, it was hard to bring it up.

Your nervousness shifted now into a feeling of dread. You felt frustrated at the practical stranger that you’d only ever wanted to like you. You were certain now that Natasha was going to hate whatever you bought her.

.

After the ominous story from Bruce, you spent the next few evenings alone in your room, scrolling endlessly through online lists for gift ideas. 

It was during one of these evenings that Natasha burst into your room unexpectedly.

Her eyes scanned the space, finding you instantly. She didn’t move closer.

‘I have you for Secret Santa.’ Natasha informed you tensely. You fought the annoyance that bubbled up inside you at her stressed tone. You weren’t hard to buy presents for, especially not compared to her.

‘Right.’ You replied, trying to keep your own tone calm.

‘What do you want?’ Natasha asked directly, her eyes focusing intensely on yours. You stared back at her, unable to believe what she’d just asked. You felt like another mission she’d been assigned to.

Something in you snapped, like a release of tension from every silent elevator ride you’d ever shared with her.

‘Just get me whatever you’d like me to have, Natasha.’ You replied harshly. ‘That’s exactly what I want.’

Natasha’s eyes narrowed slightly. You watched her try to assess your tone and your words. You didn’t like the feeling of it.

You looked away, staring back at the laptop screen and trying to blink away the embarrassing tears of frustration. 

Natasha left then. You shut your laptop and covered your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. You hated that she saw you as such an inconvenience.

Now, you were certain you’d be getting an information pamphlet on Not Being Such A Little Bitch for Christmas.

In the end, you asked Clint for help. He gave you exactly one suggestion and you took it tiredly. A bottle of vodka was about as impersonal as Natasha felt to you these days anyway.

.

The team did the gift exchange on the 23rd of December, before those with holiday plans needed to leave. You certainly didn’t have any plans to head away for. You’d already moved away to work for Shield, and then again for this job. No one you knew even lived on this side of the country. 

You didn’t mind too much, in fact you were beginning to look forward to it. Eating a takeout meal in the Avengers Tower seemed like a novel enough way to spend the holiday.

The present exchange had a warm atmosphere from the start. The tacky plastic Christmas tree that Clint had obviously found in a dollar store seemed more cheerful than the professionally decorated one that lived in the main lobby. 

Your eyes kept flickering over to Natasha as she played with the fake pine needles absentmindedly. Her hair was tied back, not in its typical braid, but in a loose ponytail. It flicked over her shoulder every time she glanced between the little tree and the rest of the team. 

She’d dressed casually for the event, wearing black jeans, a black top and an oversized red hoodie. Her small smile was soft and her shoulders seemed relaxed. It was the first time you’d ever seen her look so unguarded.

You and Natasha were the last to exchange your presents. What you already knew became clear to the team. You’d both gotten each other in the Secret Santa draw. You swapped the gifts carefully. 

‘You first.’ Natasha nodded, something surprisingly tentative in her expression.

Natasha’s gift was small. Not wrapped, it sat in a plain gift bag. There was a small box and a white piece of card. You read the card first. 

‘I knew you’d make a great Avenger. 

Thanks for proving me right. 

Natasha.’

The words were simple, her signature looped itself prettily across the bottom of the card.

Your heart dropped in surprise. Your eyes found Natasha’s and a hot rush of emotion rose up inside you. Natasha gave you her small smile, it looked almost shy. 

She’d had faith in you from the start. She’d been the one to request your transfer into the team. You hadn’t even thought she’d remembered you at Shield. The smile she’d once given you in the training room flashed through your mind.

The heat rushed to your cheeks. You realised how much of her personality had gotten lost in translation. You remembered her offering you painkillers when you were hurt. You’d heard criticism in her kindness. You hadn’t been fair at all.

She nodded once at the box in your lap and you remembered the gift itself. You opened the box hesitantly, aware of the others’ curious stares.

Inside the box was a necklace. Your breathing shallowed out as you processed it. The charm was the same red hourglass that was the insignia of the Black Widow. 

You wiped the unexpected tears from your face. You caught Natasha’s look of anticipation and tried to smile back. Your ‘Thank You’ got lodged in your throat.

Natasha’s smile widened a little. She moved now to open your present. 

The change inside of you was abrupt. Suddenly, the world moved in awful slow motion. You felt hot shame build up inside your throat. 

You watched her pull the bottle out of the badly wrapped packaging. You watched her swallow as she realised what it was. Disappointment flickered briefly over her face before her expression shuttered itself into a neutral one.

You could tell she was aware of the onlookers. Natasha laughed once, dryly.

‘Thanks.’ She said to you, eyes still on the bottle. Her voice rasped. ‘I do like vodka.’

Now, an awkward apology got caught in your throat. Your hand wrapped itself tightly around the velvet necklace box. The room was quiet, you watched Natasha’s shoulders subtly tense.

‘Tony, maybe it’s time to order the takeout.’ Bruce suggested suddenly. All at once, the room around you became busy again. 

Natasha excused herself immediately to put her gift in her room. Her smile seemed honest, but you caught the emptiness behind her eyes when she turned away. 

Your gaze trailed after her until Tony blocked your view abruptly, asking if you wanted any wontons.

.

The urgent call for the Avengers to assemble came before the takeout had even been ordered. 

You were the only one left behind. There was no time to even debate you joining them; the team had left the Tower immediately. The emergency was upstate and two civilians had already been killed. There wasn’t even time to include you on the comms.

You spent the rest of the day waiting worriedly. You watched the news just to have a way to feel connected. 

You kept hold of the jewellery box, your thumb rubbing worried circles against the velvet.

The All Clear update only came through in the evening. You finally called in the takeout order, knowing the whole team would be starving upon their arrival. 

Everyone, except for Clint and Natasha, entered together. Your eyes scanned the elevator worriedly as it opened up on the floor.

‘Clint had to head straight to his folks for Christmas.’ Steve told you quickly, noticing your obvious concern. ‘I guess Natasha went with him.’

Disappointment flooded you. Clint wasn’t due back for a full week. You wondered if Natasha would be away for that long too.

You ate in silence, brooding over your missed chance to even thank her properly. You owed Natasha more than one apology. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket midway through the meal.

You slid it out to see a text from Clint.

‘Gone straight home for Christmas with family. Can you check Tasha got back safe?’

You read the text over again unnecessarily. You slipped the phone back into your pocket and quietly excused yourself from the group.

.

You headed straight to Natasha’s rooms in the Tower, two floors down in the elevator. You tried hesitantly to enter, expecting the door to be locked. But, the handle turned.

Natasha was sitting on the wide windowsill. Her eyes were rimmed red and she was staring out at the skyline of New York. You saw the bottle of vodka balanced between her legs, already half drunk. You felt sick.

She turned at the sound of you. Her long hair hung loose, framing her face. Her smile was too sad to seem genuine. 

The room felt too quiet.

‘I’m sorry.’ You told her immediately, rushing out the words that you’d been wanting to say all day.

‘For what?’ She asked softly. You couldn’t tell from her head tilt if the question was genuine.

‘I should have.’ You began to answer anyway, gesturing over at the vodka bottle. ‘I should have.’ You hesitated, trying to find the right words.

‘That was the best Christmas present I’ve ever had.’ Natasha told you suddenly. 

Disbelief clouded your mind for a moment. You paused in confusion.

‘It’s the only Christmas present I’ve ever had.’ Natasha added quietly, the side of her head resting against the pane of glass.

‘I thought you didn’t like presents.’ You admitted after a moment. Natasha’s eyebrow raised and you could feel her surprise at your words. 

‘Bruce told me about your almost birthday party.’ 

Natasha laughed once then. The laugh was genuine but the tone of it made you feel sick.

‘My mother abandoned me in the street. Why do I need a present for that?’ The hurt in the words stung sharply.

Natasha shut her mouth quickly then and you could tell that she was fighting not to cry. You watched her jaw tense. A tear rolled down her cheek and she rubbed it away. 

Your heart ached sharply. You wondered if anyone really knew Natasha. If everyone made assumptions, like you. 

You walked across the room. You noticed how harshly her hand had touched her cheek, seeing the reddened mark from the contact. 

You noticed her shoulders stiffen slightly at your proximity.

‘I think you’re exceptional.’ You told her softly, sitting along the same windowsill and facing her.

Natasha snorted, her eyes drifted between the view of New York and you.

‘That’s because I can kick your ass.’ She said lightly. You watched her try to crack a smile to relieve the tension. 

You stretched your leg out slowly and nudged hers with it. Natasha’s eyes met yours immediately in response, the half smile frozen on her lips.

‘No.’ You said firmly. ‘It’s because you are so kind.’

Natasha blinked at you in surprise. A frown pulled at the edge of her mouth, her disagreement was immediate.

‘You don’t know that.’ She muttered harshly. ‘I’ve done terrible things.’

Her thumb traced the glass rim of the open vodka bottle as she looked down at it.

‘Where did those birthday presents go then?’ You asked, already having guessed the answer.

Natasha rolled her eyes.

‘Those were ridiculous. Too expensive. Tony went beyond overboard.’ She told you, focusing completely on the vodka bottle now.

‘Someone always needs them more’ You murmured, echoing the words she’d once told you when you’d offered her painkillers. 

Natasha’s look was appraising as it focused back on you. Her eyes widened slightly and you wondered if it was at the accuracy of your memory or your guess.

Her mouth relaxed almost imperceptibly.

‘Not to mention this.’ You continued quietly, opening the small velvet box that you’d been carrying around all day. Your fingers trailed along the necklace chain.

‘I just figured you liked jewellery.’ Natasha muttered and her eyes glanced over to the necklace that you were wearing.

‘It’s perfect.’ You told her as you undid the clasp of the necklace around your neck, removing it and placing it on the window ledge between you. 

Slowly, you took the new necklace out of its box and began to loop it around your neck.

‘You don’t have to do that.’ Natasha told you, looking exhausted and embarrassed all at once. She watched you warily.

You ignored her, finally managing to hook the clasp together. 

Then, you moved to stand behind her.

‘Lift your hair.’ You told her softly. 

Natasha looked up at you, obviously confused. You picked up your old necklace from the window ledge.

‘No.’ She refused as the realisation hit her. 

You stayed steady in your resolve, waiting quietly. 

Natasha’s green eyes studied you, she looked uncertain. After a long moment, she lifted her hair up. 

You looped the necklace around her neck and fastened it carefully. Your fingers brushed her skin and you felt her shiver slightly.

Once you were done, you rested your hand tentatively on her shoulder. Natasha was only wearing her black top now and you could feel the warmth of her through the fabric. 

‘Happy Christmas, from someone who cares about you.’ You told her simply. 

You wished desperately that you had written it on a card like she had. You felt exposed as your words hung for a moment in the air between you. 

Then, Natasha’s hand moved silently to cover your own, holding it still against her shoulder. Your breath caught.

‘You want some?’ Natasha said after a moment, her knee nudging the vodka bottle.

.

That year was the first time you didn’t have any place to be for Christmas. 

So, you found one with Natasha.

[dirtyvulture]

Its 4 am cant sleep so hear me out, shy neighbor Natasha x amab OF creator reader, thoughts?

Oh 👀

18+ only, read at your own risk

AN: Got very carried away with this, but not sorry at all. Merry Christmas!

Natasha would be one of your highest-paying subscribers and she has notifications to your profile turned on so within minutes of you dropping a new video or photo she is online to check it out.

She is very loyal and only gets off to your content. When she uses a dildo on herself, she pictures it's your dick instead, thinking about how hard you would be throbbing inside her when you're about to cum.

One day, you open your account for personal 1-on-1 video calls for a steep price. Natasha is your first buyer. She's so nervous she's practically shaking when she logs onto the call with you, and doesn't turn the camera on her face but her body instead.

You ask her if she has any requests and she just asks if you can jerk off while looking at her boobs and you are more than happy to comply.

Natasha practically drools as she watches you jerk off your length slicked up with lube and pre-cum, grunting and moaning. The vein on your cock throbs the closer you get to release.

Her own hand dips into her panties, frantically rubbing her clit so she can cum with you.

"Almost...there..." you grunt, moving your hand faster. "I wish I was there so I could cum all over your pretty tits."

Natasha hums at the thought. "You're so close," she pants, noting the dual meaning of her words as she is in fact your neighbor three houses down.

You point your cock towards you so you can shoot your load all over your abs. Natasha grumbles at the waste of your seed, but there isn't much she can do now. Her own release is a little disappointing as she removes her hand from her panties and wipes it on a towel.

You end the call abruptly, but Natasha knows not to take it personally. You probably have a long line of people who paid to have you fulfill their fantasies. Natasha is just another customer to you.

She closes her laptop and takes a shower, suddenly reviled by her pathetic behavior. She knows she needs to stop spending her money on porn and focus on real life, but she can't.

There's a knock on her door just as she steps out of the bathroom. Natasha has no friends, let alone expecting any guests, so she's hesitant to answer.

But when she sees you standing on her porch, holding a single rose in your hand, she almost drops to the floor.

"I recognized your voice on the video call," you explain, handing her the rose and she takes it with trembling fingers. "But if you ever want a more...personal...call with me, I'd be happy to make it happen."

Natasha is too stunned and embarrassed for words as she watches you walk back towards your house. Finally, she finds her focus and dashes after you.

"Are you free tonight?" she asks breathlessly. She had never asked another person out in her life, and doesn't quite know where she has the courage to do so now. "Maybe we can get dinner and then you can come over--"

"I would love that," you say before she can finish her sentence. "I'll come pick you up at six?"

"Yes. Yes, that works."

You wink and retreat to your house while Natasha stands on the sidewalk, still holding the rose and unable to believe her luck.

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

AN: Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[wstviewvidal]

because tomorrow is christmas eve 🫶🫶

christmas blues- n. romanoff

pairing: natasha romanoff x r

summary: while attending a christmas party with natasha, she reveals her feelings towards you

a/n: hi! hope u are all enjoying the holidays if you celebrate! i wrote this last month and wanted to hand it over to you guys! enjoy!

minors do not interact

after natasha got out of a three year long relationship, she was fully convinced that she would never get into another again. she was absolutely heartbroken after maria broke up with her. she promised herself that her career would stay her main priority and wouldn’t entertain a love life again.

the breakup was messy, the whole company knew about it and everyone saw how natasha wanted to hide. she found herself laying in bed past ten in the morning— avoiding all responsibility for months.

natasha often stared at the ceiling at night, replaying the last fight that led to their breakup. maria’s voice would be sharp and cold. even months later, natasha still couldn’t couldn’t get rid of the hollow ache her ex-girlfriend had left. the alarm clock would blare, but she wouldn’t bother to turn it off— what was the point?

that was until you.

you caught her off guard, like a golden-pink sunrise after a harsh long night. somehow you’d brought life back into her eyes, you’d given her purpose again.

the first time natasha had a genuine laugh after maria was because of you. you’d spilled iced coffee all over your white blouse, but instead of getting angry— you made a joke out of it. she laughed hard enough that she snorted, something that surprised the both of you.

she’d forgotten what it felt like to have a genuine smile grace her face.

shortly after that, she found herself constantly in your orbit. not that you had an issue with it.

natasha couldn’t stop glancing at you in meetings, her fingers would graze yours under the table when she knew no one was looking. the way her eyes and voice softened when she spoke to you— natasha romanoff was in love, everyone could see that.

you two have been dating for almost two years now and it seemed like the honeymoon stage was never ending.

sure, you two had your arguments but the idea of either of you being mad at each other for over an hour seemed silly— so every problem was solved as soon as it even happened.

you two had been just colleagues before you two started dating. you’d nursed her back to life after the breakup and somewhere in the midst of all of that, you two became something more than colleagues and way beyond friends.

the fleeting glances in the hallway turned into knowing looks in meetings. the shared lunch break turned into dinner after work. you two had moved past being just colleagues and eventually became girlfriends.

you met her family seven months after you two started officially dating.

you even go out with her younger sister alone, you see her as your own sister now. when there’s a romanoff family event, there’s no doubt about whether or not you’ll be there.

you two were the epitome of lovebirds and everyone either cheered you two on or envied you.

“you and the mrs. coming to the christmas party this weekend?” tony asks as he walks into the kitchen where natasha is brewing a fresh cup of coffee.

looking over her shoulder at him with a slight eye roll at his teasing tone, “yes, tony, my girlfriend and i will be there.”

she lets out a gentle smile at the way that rolls of her tongue. she’s called you her girlfriend numerous times in the past two years but can’t help but feel like a schoolgirl every time. something about having someone to call her own is a feeling she’d never get over.

tony watches her with a glint in his eyes, his teasing demeanor gone and instead filled with pride.

although he can be rough around the edges sometimes, he cares deeply for his friends. beyond the smart quips and teases, he only wants the best for his people.

which is why he was beyond the moon when you two started dating. he’d tried to set natasha up with suitors numerous times before you came along but couldn’t quite get it right.

until you caught her by storm.

leaning against the countertop on the other side of the kitchen, he beams at natasha, “i’m really happy for you, you know that? you’ve come a long way, and i think your girl’s got a reason to do with it.”

natasha smiles at his words, knowing he doesn’t say that stuff often so she takes it to heart.

“thank you, tony. i think so too. after the break up with maria, i thought id give up on the whole dating thing. i’m so glad i didn’t.”

arriving home from work, natasha’s greeted with the smell of dinner and a james bond movie playing in the living room.

you’d always been attentive to natasha and have always known how to take care of her, something she’s always appreciated and voiced. she’d grown up always being perceptive and aware of others, so now that she’s the one being watched and listened to, her heart swells with adoration and affection.

coming up behind you as you cook, she wraps her arms around your waist and leans into you, her chin resting on your shoulder.

“smells amazing, my love. what’re you making?”

you smile and lean back into natasha’s hold, “remember when you took me to italy for my birthday earlier this year and i fell in love with that one plate? i found online and wanted to try it tonight.”

natasha had surprised you with tickets to italy, somewhere she knew you’d always wanted to visit.

before you two started dating, you’d spend a lot of time walking around the park and talking about your bucket list— you only told her about wanting to go to italy once.

natasha smiles and nods, remembering your vacation and how she wished she wasn’t such an over thinker. she would’ve proposed to you then and there at lake como.

as you finish cooking, natasha helps you plate the food and takes it to the kitchen table.

you two eat and talk about how your week has gone and how youre excited for tony’s party.

you’d gone out to buy a new dress, one that’s more on the holiday theme. the dark wine color is one you know natasha loves on you, which is why is hung up behind your bedroom door.

“we don’t have to be there for long. i know after a while it can get rowdy and i don’t know if you’ll be up for that,” natasha says as she brings a fork up to her mouth.

she avoids your gaze as she focuses on cutting her food. odd.

furrowing your brows and shaking your head at her statement, “nonsense, we’ll stay. don’t worry about it, we can just find a quiet place with our friends if anything. we usually do that anyway.”

the afternoon of the party, you two find yourselves in a familiar routine.

while you do your hair, natasha does her makeup. natasha usually asks you to ‘help’ her with her hair even though she really doesn’t need it— she just loves how you look when you’re focused.

especially when it’s her you’re focused on.

“you know, we don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” natasha says as she puts on her dangling pearl earrings. she’s said something along the lines of not going at least five times since last night’s dinner.

turning to look at her with your eyebrows raised, “do you not want to go? you’ve said that a few times already and it sounds like you don’t want to go.”

natasha looks over at you and sighs softly, “i do, i just wanted to do something today the both of us since christmas falls during the week this week. we could’ve had a personal christmas, you know, just the two of us.”

letting out an exhale of a laugh, you walk over to her as she sits on the bed watching you and place a soft kiss on her cheek.

“we don’t have to stay too long, okay?” you fix her hair so that it’s laying nice in place, “we can just show face.”

natasha nods softly and leans into your hand while you hold her face as you speak to her, “okay.”

you watch her through the mirror as you do your makeup and can see by the small furrow in her brow and the way she keeps fiddling with her watch, something is off with her.

you don’t acknowledge it, but want to get through tonight as quickly as possible to make sure you two can have the rest of the christmas weekend to yourselves.

the room is decorated beautifully in a festive atmosphere. warm christmas lights are all along the ceiling and the christmas tree is adorned with gold ornaments all around. you can even smell gingerbread in the air.

tony went above and beyond this year.

natasha led you in with a hand on your lower back and you can’t help but smile at the contact. she’s felt the need to always have a hand on you in some way. when you two sat down, she would rub your thigh in a soothing matter or would play with your hair as she stood behind you while you sat.

wanda waltzes up through the crowd with champagne in her hand, “you guys made it!”

she hugs you tightly and greets you with a friendly smile, then moving onto greeting natasha, “you guys missed it! tony got sam to sing karaoke and the whole place turned into a concert,” she beams.

the energy of the party sweeps you off your feet and it isn’t long before both you and natasha find yourselves engrossed in conversations with your friends. her hand never leaves the small of your back, it comforts both you and her. you and wanda share stories about your previous holiday traditions and natasha lets out a soft chuckle, warming the space between you two.

natasha apologizes to tony as you finally get to him almost an hour after you first walk in, “sorry we’re seeing you so late. we would’ve been here earlier if someone would’ve been ready sooner.” she subtly gestures to you with a tilt of her head,

you give natasha a playful glare as she says this, “i see how it is.”

natasha gives your waist a light squeeze, a gesture to show she’s joking with you. her green eyes dripping in adoration as she leans in closer to you, her voice dropping just enough for only you to hear it, “you look stunning, my love. always worth the wait.”

a blush creeps up your neck and you roll your eyes playfully, and tony laughs just before he’s pulled off into host duties.

the two of you walk around the party, exchanging pleasantries with colleagues and joking around with friends. sharing a drink, you two clink your champagne glasses in celebration, “to another stark christmas and to surviving the never ending hors d’oeuvres.”

the night is perfect and you find yourself feeling at home with natasha. you love the company— that the party has died down so now it’s just you two and your closest friends at the end of the night.

you all sit at the coffee table, nursing cups of coffee and sharing pastries that tony had hidden just to bring out for this time of the night. you’re leaned into natasha, her thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles against your thigh as she rests her hand on your leg.

you all are playing a friendly game of truth or dare and it was finally natasha’s turn.

she was dared by wanda to dance with you in front of everyone. simple.

“that’s your dare? easy,” natasha stands up and reaches out for your hand with a smile on her face, “milady.”

you giggle softly, shaking your head in disbelief and letting her pull you up, “you’re so corny.”

“but you love me,” natasha replies, matter-of-factly. she places a hand on your waist and holds your other in the air. your checks hurt from smiling widely and laughing all night.

natasha spins you around dramatically as you laugh heartily. she whispers softly in your ear that she loves you— you blush so noticeably that the group begins to whistle and cheer.

you two sit back on your side of the couch as the rest of the group continues, your head resting on natasha’s shoulder.

tony is in the middle of doing his dare when the elevator doors open up to a late guest. somehow, the door opening leads to the air feeling a bit tense. is it only you feeling that way?

“is that maria?” wanda whispers, it falling from her lips so quickly that she didn’t have the chance to hold it in before it came out.

natasha’s smile falters just a small amount before her face goes to a neutral expression in record timing. the hand that was just on your thigh a second ago is nowhere near your body, and she’s subtly moved in a way that made you pull your face away from her shoulder.

it’s like her warm and loving demeanor switched off in an instant, but then she catches your eye and gives you a half smile— is that guilt you see in her eyes?

before you can even ask her if she’s okay, you’re interrupted.

“sorry i’m late, i had to finish some last minute paperwork but i didn’t want to not show up at all.”

maria walks in commanding attention and respect. she doesn’t consciously do it, it’s just how she is— always has been. it’s not like you hated her, she never gave you a reason to.

she and natasha haven’t made eye contact, but you can feel natasha’s body go rigid right next to you, like shes expecting something to happen. the shift in natasha’s energy is unmistakable, one that leaves you uneasy as you sit next to her.

your heart sinks slowly as you realize that maria’s presence has dampened your girlfriend’s mood and part of you is worried about it. your heart sinks heavily, your body now feels ten times heavier.

the room didn’t go quiet, but natasha did. the hand that was always on you was now fiddling with her necklace, a tell you knew all too well. she was trying to anchor herself back down to earth.

maria finds a seat opposite on the couch, away from you and your girlfriend. you can see how natasha is averting her eyes from that area of the room and keeping her hands away from you.

you exchange worried glances with wanda who’s next to you, silently asking her what happened. wanda gives you a solemn look that you can’t quite place.

you sigh softly and try to place your hand in top of natasha’s, but just as you get close enough, she moves her hand away from you. it was so subtle that it couldve been mistaken as an honest mistake, but you know better.

you try to hide your frown as you look down, the stray piece of lint on your dress now looking a lot more interesting all of a sudden. you steady your breathing as much as possible, your emotions now getting close to boiling over.

the game continues and it’s finally natasha’s turn, she chooses truth.

clint smirks softly as he brings the beer bottle up to his lips, taking a swig before asking, “okay, let’s make this interesting. do you see yourself getting married?”

clint loves the two of you, matter of fact— everyone in the room has constantly rooted for the two of you. it took you two a while before you even officially started dating, so now that you two are together, the team loves how you bring the best in natasha.

the group laughs a little, almost like they already know natasha will, without hesitation, say that she does— with you.

natasha’s silence silences the group and you can see maria smirking subtly through the corner of your eye.

does she have something to do with why natasha’s hesitating to answer the question?

i mean, you and nat have both spoken about marriage in the past. she told you she couldn’t wait to get married and build a house an hour away from the city with you. why is she silent?

the group is now uncomfortably quiet at natasha’s red face and her lack of eye contact with anyone.

you glance over at nat, your heart heavy at the lack of response, apprehensive about her answer.

after a beat, natasha clears her throat and fiddles with the beer bottle cap in her fingers, “marriage? i.. i don’t know about that. maybe if i find the right person in the future.”

maybe if i find the right person?

your heart drops and you swear you could fall over any second. you try to mask your hurt by looking down at the ground. natasha had always reassured you about her feelings and intentions towards you. what happened?

“that’s understandable,” maria hums softly, her tone light, “you don’t want to vow your life to someone you don’t see a forever with.”

tony turns the attention away from the two of you quickly and finds another game to play, one that won’t lead to the potential demise of a relationship.

even though truth or dare is now over, you can feel some of your friends casting glances over in your direction to make sure you’re okay. you try to focus your attention on the jenga game that’s going on, but all you can think about is how natasha said she doesn’t see marriage with you.

is it because maria’s here?

you try to convince yourself maybe she’s having an off day, or maybe she’s just tired and wants to leave. after all, she didn’t want to come to the party in the first place.

the party slowly calms down and everyone is talking amongst themselves, but you find yourself growing quieter as the night progresses. natasha’s words echo in your head as you try to distract yourself by paying attention to whatever it is tony is talking about animatedly from across the couch.

natasha’s arm rests on the back of the couch, and you notice that ever since maria entered, she hasn’t reached for you.

maria is across the room talking to steve and sam about a past mission she went on and you can’t help but watch her. it’s not that you’re mad at her— why would you be? she didn’t force natasha to say what she said. you hate that you’re watching her every move now— especially because you can see that natasha is glancing in her direction every few minutes. it’s subtle and quick, but you notice it.

you get up and walk to the bar across the room. your girlfriend doesn’t follow.

you try your best to steady yourself as you make a quick drink. you watch from the other side, alone, as you see natasha talking to the group and laughing with them like nothing happened. you can see her gaze lands on maria for a few seconds longer than you were comfortable with.

you sigh softly and rub your temples as you try to bring yourself back to earth. maybe you’re overthinking and natasha will talk about it later with you at home.

the drive home is eerily quiet. you stare out the window and press your fingernails into your palms, an old habit that’s resurfacing. one that natasha helped you break at the beginning of your relationship.

“you’ve been quiet,” natasha says softly, almost hesitantly. maybe she knows what’s next. she’s treading with caution.

“i’m just tired”

“right,” natasha says as she pulls into the driveway and parks the car, “tired.”

you hold in a breath and exit the car, not even waiting to see if natasha will open the door for you. you know she won’t.

you try to gather the courage to say something as the two of you walk in and hang up your coats. you can feel your stomach heavy, your limbs feel like they could fall off at any second— you could break down at any second.

“what a par-“

“we need to talk”

you two speak at the same time and natasha immediately grimaces. it’s like she was hoping you’d forget what happened.

natasha tries to act busy as she takes off her shoes, her voice low, “about what?”

you scoff, “about what? natasha, you basically said you don’t see a future with me. we’ve talked about marriage before, about how it was what we both wanted— with each other..” you trail off, your voice wavers, but you press on. “is this temporary?”

natasha exhales harshly, making your heart drop, “that’s not what i meant by it.”

“really? because we seemed on the same page, but tonight when maria walked in, all of a sudden it was like our relationship didn’t exist.” you were letting your emotions out, no longer holding back your hurt.

natasha rubs her face and you look at her eyes. you see guilt and remorse, something that you rarely see with her— you feel sick.

exhaling sharply and looking at you with a guilt ridden expression, “she was my first serious relationship, the one i thought i would marry. after we broke up, i convinced myself i would never do that again— she broke me.”

you furrow your eyebrows and cross your arms, expression sharp, “and what does she have to do with me?”

“everything! she has everything to do with this!” natasha exclaims, her voice cracking, “when maria walked in, i realized i can’t give you the future you deserve. i can’t do it! i have so much baggage and you-“ her voice softens, “you don’t deserve to be with someone who’s going to throw that on you.”

you stand there, the weight of her words suffocating you, “so you’re going to push me away because you’re afraid?”

natasha looks at you with tears in her eyes and you can’t help but want to reach out to her, comfort her.

but this isn’t the natasha you fell in love with.

“i don’t know how to fix this,” she says, taking a few steps away from you, like she’s afraid for be near you.

you take a steadying breath and close your eyes, something about tonight has a sense of finality— one you didn’t ask for but can’t avoid, “natasha, i love you— so much, but i can’t be with someone and see a future with them when all they’re doing is looking over their shoulder at their past. it’s unfair to me.”

natasha’s lip quivers so subtly that if you didn’t know her so well, you’d have missed it, “are you leaving me?”

she places a hand on her chest, rubbing her collarbone in an nervous habit you can’t help but recognize. you can see how this is hurting her, but you know it’s unfair to continue being with someone who became unsure in such a short amount of time.

“i don’t want to, nat, but i think the fact that you saw maria for just an hour and this happened.. it means you need to figure out what you really want. seeing her one time shouldn’t have led you to being unsure.”

natasha watches you with tears in her eyes, fiddling with the ring on her finger. she nods softly, she knows it’s unfair to you how she switched up in such a short amount of time.

“i love you,” she tries to sound confident, but you can hear how defeated she sounds.

you smile sadly and place a gentle hand on her cheek, “you need to prove that to yourself, natasha. figure out what you want, without maria lingering in the back of your mind. it’s not good for you, us. maybe we can try again in the future when it’s past you.”

you pull your hand away reluctantly, the loss of her warmth hitting you immediately. natasha doesn’t stop you, not even as you pack your bags and leave.

[esouliie]

Christmas at the Romanoff’s

(natasha romanoff x reader) & (platonic!yelena belova x reader)

tags | christmas headcanon – friends to lovers, first kiss, fluff and comfort!

notes | hello, pls take this small headcanon as a thank you for reading and supporting all my fics even though i cannot keep up with demand lmao. i promise to do better in the new year. merry christmas! <3

It’s your first Christmas with Natasha, and you quickly discover that the Black Widow is… not exactly a holiday enthusiast. At least, not in the traditional sense. When you first arrived at the apartment she shares with her sister, you were greeted by Yelena’s unholy mix of holiday cheer and chaos. Mismatched ornaments hung precariously from a tree that was way too big for their living room, a plate of burnt cookies sat on the counter, and garish Christmas music blared at an almost concerning volume. Natasha, however, looked like she was about two seconds away from wrapping the excessive lights around her neck.

“I hate Christmas music,” Natasha mutters under her breath as you hang up your coat. Yelena’s halfway through yelling “All I Want for Christmas is You” with a Santa hat perched at an angle on her head. “She’s been doing this for weeks,” she adds, her voice low like it’s some covert confession. It takes you all but twenty minutes to realise that Natasha has a very complicated relationship with Christmas. She doesn’t hate it exactly—she just doesn’t really know what to do with it. With all the joy. When you try to hand her a burnt gingerbread cookie, she looks at it like it’s some kind of alien artifact. “Why would I eat a cookie shaped like a man?” She asks flatly, before breaking it in half like it personally offended her.

She then proceeded to argue how she’d be more likely to eat one of these ‘monstrosities’ if it was shaped like a woman…

But there are little moments where she tries, and it’s adorable in the most understated way. You catch her quietly fixing the crooked ornaments on the tree when she thinks no one’s looking, muttering under her breath about how “the reds need to go next to the greens.” One night, after Yelena goes to bed, you find Natasha scrolling through YouTube tutorials for how to wrap presents, muttering curses in Russian every time the tape sticks to her fingers.

And then there’s the stockings. Yelena insisted everyone have one, even though Natasha grumbled about it. But before you went to bed on Christmas Eve, you noticed that Natasha’s stocking was the most stuffed. There’s a random assortment of things crammed in there—protein bars, an extra pair of thick socks, a tiny first aid kit. You don’t have to ask to know that she filled her own stocking, long before Christmas Eve. The thought makes your heart ache in the sweetest, saddest way. She spent so many holidays alone that it just… became her normal.

Finally, it’s Christmas morning and Natasha is draped over the couch like a cat, one leg tucked under her, watching as you and Yelena clean up the mess from last night. She’s quiet, sipping a mug of tea, but you’ve learned by now that quiet Natasha doesn’t exactly mean unhappy Natasha. In fact, she looks content—eyes crinkling every time Yelena grumbles about your “lack of enthusiasm” in picking up all the decorative pillows.

What really steals the show, though, is the mountain of presents you’ve brought. You didn’t mean for it to get out of hand, but once you started, it was impossible to stop. You’d see something and think, Yelena would love this, or Natasha would smile at that, and next thing you knew, you were hauling six bags into their apartment like some sort of festive mule. When the gift exchange begins, Yelena dives into her pile like a kid on sugar overload. Her laughter is infectious as she opens each one: a set of retro pins for her jacket, a waffle maker, a framed picture of you and her after a mission (that one earns a rare hug). She’s glowing, grinning so wide it’s almost blinding. Natasha just sits there, watching her sister, her fingers loosely holding the edge of the blanket draped over her lap.

You notice she hasn’t opened her gifts yet—not even the ones with her name written in your careful handwriting. You nudge her gently, teasing, “what’s the matter, Romanoff? Afraid you’ll cry if I outdid you?” She gives you a half-smile, the kind that makes your chest ache a little because it’s soft in a way she rarely lets herself be. “Just... enjoying the show” She says, her gaze flicking back to Yelena, who is now holding up a pair of horrible light-up slippers you found at a charity shop.

When Natasha finally opens her gifts, it’s much slower, deliberate. You’re nervous, even though you know she’ll never let you see it if she doesn’t like something. But the small things you picked—a leather journal, a new cream scarf, a rare first edition of a spy novel she once mentioned—earn a quiet “thank you,” each one accompanied by that little smile. It’s the last gift, though, that gets you. It’s a snow globe. Inside, there’s a tiny replica of a mountain standing tall in the heart of Russia, the one Natasha had mentioned missing when she told you about her childhood. The one she only saw once and yet managed to comfort her throughout her life. Her fingers tighten around it, and for a moment, her expression shifts—just enough for you to catch it. Sadness, maybe, or longing.

She doesn’t say much after that. But when you look at her later, as Yelena’s dancing around in her ridiculous slippers and yelling about how she’s making everyone waffles tomorrow morning, Natasha’s looking at you like maybe you’re the best gift she’s ever gotten. And maybe she wouldn’t mind Christmas each year if you were around.

Later that night, you find her in the kitchen with a mug of hot chocolate she swore she didn’t want. The two of you stand there in the soft glow of the tree lights, listening to Yelena snore on the couch. “I don’t really get Christmas.” She admits softly, her voice barely audible over the crackle of the fake fireplace video Yelena left running on the TV. “But… I think this year was nice.” And when she looks at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips, you know she means it.

Without thinking, you step closer, reaching out to brush a stray curl from her face. “It’s more than nice. I’m so happy.”

And that’s when you hear it—a distant jingle. You glance up, realising Natasha’s holding a tiny branch of mistletoe above your heads, her expression smug but her cheeks just the faintest flush of pink. “Well, would you look at that…” You murmur, before giggling at her antics. She leans in slowly, her breath warm against your skin. The kiss starts soft, hesitant, like she’s testing the waters. But when you cradle her face in your hands, she melts into it, kissing you deeper, with a tenderness that leaves you breathless.

And when you finally pull back, her forehead resting against yours, she exhales a quiet laugh. “Okay,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper, “maybe Christmas isn’t that bad.”

From the living room, Yelena’s snore breaks the silence—loud and obnoxious. Natasha groans, but you can see the affection in her expression when she shakes her head. “Don’t tell her I said that.” She adds, smirking. And just like that, the moment is gone, replaced by the familiar warmth of Natasha’s dry humor.

But later, when you catch her adding an extra blanket over Yelena on the couch, you realise that maybe, Natasha likes Christmas more than she’d like to admit. And maybe this Christmas might bring more than just holiday cheer.

[strangelystrangestrangerrr]

The three times you trusted Natasha, and the one time you didn’t | Ch.1

I Prologue | Ch.1 l

Pairing: Natasha Ramanoff x Fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, trauma, unrequited love, descriptions of injury, kidnapping

Note: What if I tell you that this is the only chapter that contains “fluff”? :D

———————————————————————————

“y/l/n”

You looked up to see none other than Natasha greeting you as she entered the common room.

“Romanoff” You acknowledged and gave her a nod.

This was how your relationship with her first started off, professional and formal. Whenever you guys were paired up during missions, they usually go so smoothly that no one was able to comprehend how you guys were perfectly in sync with each other, communicating without needing to say things out loud. Natasha was glad to learn that you were a workaholic just like her, training with you became part of her routine.

As time passed, you both became accustomed to each other’s presence unknowingly. You’d ask her to join you for lunch after training together and she’d save you a spot next to her during movie nights. Things remained within a typical coworkers/friends boundary.

Until that one time.

It was a late afternoon, the air was warm and cosy. You were sparring with Natasha, again. You tried to punch her, and as a top-level assassin, she managed to dodge it. In return, she caught your arm and smashed you against the ground in a swift motion. Not wanting to give up just yet, you kicked her legs, causing her to trip over you. As a result, you guys ended up in an awkward position. To your surprise, she didn’t get up immediately, instead she stayed like that, with her arms beside the sides of your head and one of her legs in between your thighs, while she steadied her breaths. Then the realisation hit you, it was your first time being this close with someone, more intimate than anything you had experienced. You told yourself not to overthink it and tried to maintain your composure desperately.

“Why are your ears so red?” All of the sudden Natasha asked.

“Hm? My ears? Oh it’s nothing,” you frantically dismissed.

“Are you sure? Cuz they’re getting even redder.”

“It’s just that you’re hot-” Fuck “-NO, I mean I’m feeling hot cuz of…” you paused as you were distracted by a drop of sweat that was leaving a trail on her neck as it continued downwards…

“The training?”

“YES! Yes the training,” her voice snapped your attention back to her eyes.

Amused by your unusual stuttering, she smirked as she pushed further, “Are you blushing, darling?”

You wanted to crawl out of the boxing ring.

“What!? Nooo, what are you even talking about?” You couldn’t take it anymore so you pushed her off of you while avoiding eye contact with her.

You behaving like this was very new to Natasha. Sure, she loved the professionalism in you, always looking sharp and smart as her respected and trusted partner, but this? This did something to her. The way you became fidgety under her, looking all helpless and didn’t know what to do. She smiled to herself as she replayed your cute little expression in her head. She wanted to see more of it, she needed to.

Things changed ever since then.

She kept trying to catch you off guard. You hated the way she winked at you when you stared at her absentmindedly. You hated the way she sneaked up behind you while you were making her favourite meal. You hated the way she insisted that you should sit her lap while claiming that no other spots were available on the couch with that stupid grin on her face. Unable to control how your heartbeat quickened due to her tactics, you brushed her off every time by rolling your eyes or telling her to shut up. Much to your dismay, she got bolder and bolder, as if she was encouraged by your rejection. That was how you knew you were eventually going to lose in this silly game of hers.

She made her final move during one of Tony’s party. The night was strange, although you didn’t interact with each other much, the tension between you two was high. It was the fifth time you had locked eyes with her through the crowd of Tony’s guests, biting your lips, you couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious under her burning gaze. Acting like nothing happened, you continued the boring conversation you were no having with the guests. After a while you got tired of indulging them, so excused yourself to get some fresh air. Natasha wasn’t doing so great either, her mind was consumed by how good you looked with that black classy dress you had on. The way the fabric hugged your curves so perfectly and how the slit on the side allowed your long legs to peek out every so often. Oh, the things she could do to you. Lost in her trail of thoughts, she panicked when she could no longer find you across the venue…

You jumped as you felt a hand lingering on your exposed back.

“What’s a pretty girl doing here all by herself?” Natasha whispered into your ears.

The breeze was cold but none of you could feel it.

Feeling a bit tipsy, you turned to face her and answered, “waiting for you,” while ignoring the burning sensation in your stomach, in attempt to tease her.

Then you broke her. Being this up close, she was enchanted by your beauty. You were looking extra vulnerable, having your hair tied up neatly into a bun, with a few strands on the side. The way your big sparkling eyes look up to her, a shy smile hanging on your lips, silently challenging her. Natasha’s breath hitched.

“Natasha?” Confused by her seemingly lack of reaction, you called her as you waited for her cocky remark.

“Mm!?”

Couldn’t hold herself back any longer, Natasha closed the gap and kissed you. She was being so soft and gentle with you, you thought you would melt onto the floor, you had no idea that it was taking everything in her to not to be aggressive.

“Can I be your girlfriend?” She blurted out the question she’d been wanting to ask forever.

The sight of you was making her go crazy. You were panting hard to catch your breath. Head held down, clearly trying to hide your flustered state without knowing that your red little ears betrayed you. So fucking cute.

A million thoughts were forming inside your brain. Is this even real? It was no doubt that you were attracted to her, but why would she ever choose you? It made sense why you hesitated due to your past. You had tried to reach out to people, your parents, your friends, but you ended up getting hurt every time. So you reminded yourself not to get used to people’s comfort for your own sake and managed to move on. You were fine, you swear!

Looking into her sincere gaze, the feeling of hope was too overwhelming for you. Screw it, what’s the worst that could happen? For her, you were willing to take the risk. You trusted her.

After you nodded timidly, she beamed and pulled you into another heated kiss.

[naturesapphic]

mommy nat x little reader where she has an anxiety attack and nat holds her and sings her a lullaby to calm her down🤍

Lullaby

Mommy!natasha romanoff x little!fem!reader

Warnings: age regression, hurt/comfort, mentions of needles and a doctor

You were playing with your toys when you heard your mommy’s voice from across the room. She was busy doing paperwork and you haven’t gotten to see her much today so when you heard her voice, you immediately got up and walked toward it. You see that she’s talking on the phone so you waited until she was done.

“Yes, yes she will see you tomorrow Doctor Cho. Thank you goodbye.” Nat said as she hung up the phone and you felt your heart drop at the name your mommy just mentioned. Dr. Cho. Meaning that you will be going to the doctors and you absolutely hated going to any sort of doctors appointment. Natasha looked up to see you looking up at her with a terrified expression which caused her to sigh.

“Baby-“ Natasha started to say but you cut her off by running away crying. You ran to your room and hid under your bed as you sobbed your eyes out, while holding onto your stuffie. Natasha came into your room and heard your cries which caused her heart to break at the sound of it. She went to the edge of your bed and went on her hands and knees, looking under the bed to find you curled into a ball crying.

“Babygirl, come on out. Come to mommy Angel.” Natasha said softly and you whimpered and shook your head no, scared that she will take you to the doctors right then and there. Natasha sighed and carefully went under the bed and gently pulled you out which caused you to cry more. “Baby we aren’t going to the doctors today, we are going tomorrow.” She reassured you and you sniffled, burying your face in her neck. “All dr. Cho is going to do is give you your yearly check up, that’s all love bug I promise.” Your mommy said softly while giving you a forehead kiss.

“S-shots?” You said looking up at her with a scared look plastered on your face. “Maybe baby but hey, mommy will be right there with you yeah? You are the bravest little baby I know. Remember? You are just like mommy, my little baby widow.” Your mommy says with a big smile and you gave her a little smile but then you start to freak out again because the thought of needles make you scared to death. Natasha shushed you quietly and started to gently rock you in her arms. “Take a deep breath baby, then out, then in. Repeat it with me princess.” She said calmly as she guided you through it.

After a few minutes of some breathing exercises you were still pretty upset so she decided to sing a Russian lullaby that her mother used to sing to her when she was little and now Natasha sings to you. You laid on her chest as she starts to hum your favorite song and you felt her chest moving as she sung quietly. Closing your eyes, you slowly drift off to sleep in your mommy’s arms, the one place you always felt safe at. Natasha gently stood up with you in her arms and went to tuck you into bed, lifting the other side of the covers up so she can lay next to you. She wrapped her arms around your body and pulled you close to her and started singing the lullaby once more, lulling you into a deep sleep, knowing you are protected by your mommy.

A/n: HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! I’m trying to come back guys I swear, it’s just been hard since I’ve been busy and resting as much as I can, having some problems with my back so it’s been hard to do really anything but I’m gonna post some more fics today don’t worry :) I hope yall enjoyed it and that the anon did as well. Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves, I love yall :)

[agathariosbroomstick]

I know this is about Rio Vidal, but dare I say, Natasha Romanoff.

[natsarrownecklacx]

Hey hey!!! So I saw your post to ask you things with Wanda or Nat and I was thinking about a relationship dynamic with them. What if Y/n basically raised herself so her love language is acts of service. She loves to take care of Nat/Wanda doing the simple things. Pay for dinner, hold the door open, get their car serviced, etc. And Wanda/Nat helps heal their hyper independence and allows a safe space to be babied, cared for, and loved right back. 🥰 😌

Oh I love this!! (Y/n is so scarily similar to me in this)

Wanda / Natasha making a safe space for y/n to just be (not having to always try to be hyper vigilant about everyone’s needs) is so important. I feel like at first y/n would feel very out of place maybe even a little uncomfortable in that dynamic but once she realises she’s safe with them she loves it.

I feel like it would also be really hard for y/n at the beginning because the more Wanda / Natasha take care of her and show her what it’s like to be really loved the more she realises how much her childhood lacked in all of that.

That realisation would be really devastating for her especially when thinking about how it’s shaped her as a person but Wanda / Natasha are there for her through all of it.

[please-destroy]

Mittens

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

.

Tony laughed loudly when he first saw the grey woollen hat. 

It had a white pom pom on the end and Tony snorted when he caught sight of it bouncing.

Natasha paused momentarily and her eyes flickered over to him, sipping coffee as he read over a Stark Pad.

‘Sorry.’ He grinned unashamedly. ‘It’s just not very Black Widow.’

Natasha rolled her eyes pointedly, before letting your hesitant tug on her hand pull her away.

In the elevator, you watched the quiet embarrassment roll through her. Natasha regarded herself in the mirrored walls as you descended the skyscraper. Her eyes lingered on the hat. 

Her gaze wasn’t critical. You almost wished it was. There was something childish in her vulnerability. You read the indecision in the way she bit her lip. 

Your heart seized with a strange sadness. You’d never really seen how Natasha viewed herself, not until then. Tony’s comment had thrown her completely off.

Just before you reached the ground floor, Natasha’s hand raised to remove the hat. You instinctively lifted your fingers to brush her wrist. She froze at your touch.

‘Leave it.’ You murmured, taking the moment for a brief kiss of her cheek. ‘You look great.’

Her voice was husky in uncertain disagreement.

‘I look ridiculous.’

‘You look cute.’ You promised truthfully, your lips lingering next to her cheek. ‘That’s not a crime.’

Natasha took a small breath and you heard the shakiness of it. Your arm wrapped around her side. 

You met her gaze in the mirror, just before the doors parted.

‘Cute.’ You repeated, enjoying the way her eyes sparkled as her smile returned. 

.

You couldn’t be certain, but you had a suspicion that the moment in the elevator didn’t leave Natasha’s mind. You knew for sure that it didn’t leave yours.

You settled together into your planned day of Christmas shopping as you wandered through the cold, busy streets. You passed a clothes store with a large winter sale on, and both slowed down to peer into the window. Inside the store, you walked thoughtlessly in sync. Together, you roamed through the aisles with that easy familiarity that comes with time. 

When you found the mittens, you held them up questioningly to her. They were the same silver grey as her woolen hat.

Natasha’s face smoothed immediately. You watched her begin to dismiss your suggestion automatically as a joke. 

Then, you saw the same lingering uncertainty return to her face.

‘I don’t know.’ She admitted suddenly and her voice was raw. 

Customers weaved around you, uninterested in anything but the retail deals on offer.

‘I’ve never had mittens before.’ Natasha told you, unwarranted embarrassment flitting into her expression. 

Your stomach flipped and you didn’t know why. Maybe it was her shyness at such a minor secret.

‘Then, these are a must buy.’ You determined with sudden decisiveness, taking her hand and leading her to the checkout.

.

The cashier easily read your relationship as you approached the counter. Despite the bustle around you, she gave you both a small smile, handing the mittens purposefully over to Natasha.

Maybe it was the cold, but Natasha’s cheeks were glowing pink before you’d left the store.

Her woolen mittens matched her hat. Her pleased smile matched her eyes.

That was when you decided that the day was going to be something else.

.

Natasha’s brow furrowed in confusion when your course altered. You led her purposefully across the busy street, away from the storefronts. 

She first protested as you weaved through the pop up stalls, selling anything from winter themed street-food to Christmas tree baubles. She reminded you about the presents that you both still needed to buy.

As you approached the ice rink, Natasha stopped in her tracks entirely. She stood a few feet away from you with wide eyes.

Her head shook slowly. 

‘No.’ She whispered, her mittens slipping self consciously into her coat pockets. ‘I don’t know how.’

You shrugged, keeping your eyes steady on her.

‘We don’t have to.’ You promised, never wanting to scare her. 

You closed the distance between you carefully. Natasha’s lips were pressed together. The same nervous indecision worried her expression. 

‘I don’t know how.’ She repeated in a small voice, the words almost an apology.

You brushed her shoulders gently.

‘That’s not a crime.’ You hummed softly. ‘Do you want to try?’

Natasha’s stare was sudden and piercing. There was something unashamed now about her exposed vulnerability. She didn’t mind that you had seen her quiet fear.  

Pride stamped your chest as you realised that Natasha knew you were on her team.

You anticipated her answer before she said it.

Before anything else, Natasha was brave.

‘Okay.’ She determined, a soft mitten seeking out your own gloved hand.

.

The next few minutes moved with surprising simplicity. You brought back the skates from the rental desk.

You laced up your pair quickly, excited to get on the ice.

Natasha started laughing gently beside you.

You looked over and caught her grin. Her eyes sparkled with mirth. She raised her mittened hands helplessly and you started smiling too.

You knelt before her, tying up her laces with extra care. 

‘Thank you.’ Natasha murmured as you finished. You glanced up, surprised by the rush of warmth you felt from her gaze. 

A mitten brushed your cheek softly, and you felt your smile widen at the touch.

.

As you stepped onto the ice, Natasha’s grip was tight on your hand. 

The fairy lights above threaded together like a wedding arch.

You took an extra step forward, ready to skate. 

Natasha hesitated and you turned around, ready to skate slowly backwards as she practiced.

Your breath caught as you watched the lights sparkle in her eyes. The green and gold dappled together and Natasha seemed ethereal.

You could read the worry on her face before she said it aloud.

There was something inexplicable about the glowing softness of her. The woolen hat, the ringlets, the reddened cheeks.

Natasha’s lips parted as she exhaled anxiously.

‘I love you.’ You told her, because it was the only thing to do.

Natasha’s breath caught and her eyes sparkled impossibly more.

‘That’s not a crime.’ She considered aloud, her grin teasing.

You kissed her gently, wanting to live in this moment forever. 

She tasted much warmer than you’d expected. 

When your lips parted, Natasha hummed in satisfaction. Her forehead affectionately touched yours. The feeling of being entirely wanted spread over you like a blanket.

Natasha wobbled on the ice, but you held her steady. 

Christmas music crackled over the overhead speakers.

For a moment, there were only the bright lights and the pair of you. 

Then, with alarming speed, two teenagers skated past. You both startled.

Natasha sighed gently as she extricated herself from your hold. 

‘Come on.’ She said, taking your hand resolutely in her mittened one.

‘It’s time to go fall on my ass.’

[just-aake]

Christmas Together

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and Natasha arrives at her daughter's ballet recital, only to discover a small problem.

Warnings: fluff

Words: 2896

Stepping outside the brightly lit school building into the crisp night air, you pull your jacket tightly around yourself, bracing against the sharp bite of the snowy Christmas Eve wind. 

The muffled sound of excited chatter and laughter filters through the heavy doors behind you as you retrieve your phone from your pocket. You don’t need to look at the screen to dial anything; her number is the first on the list of your favorite contacts. 

Pressing the call button, you glance around, offering polite smiles and nods to the other parents and guests who stream past you into the building, bundled in scarves and coats, their faces glowing with anticipation. 

Your breath clouds in the freezing air as the phone rings, each chime making your stomach twist a little tighter. 

On the third ring, the line clicks, and you speak quickly, barely giving her a chance to greet you.

“Natasha, where are you?” you ask urgently. “The show starts soon.”  

There’s a muffled grunt on her end, followed by a sharp thud that makes your heart skip. Then her voice finally comes through, faintly breathless but steady.

“I’m on my way, moya lyubov.” 

You exhale sharply, your breath fogging the cold night air. But before you can relax, there’s a distant boom on the line—small but unmistakable. Your pulse quickens.

“Natasha—” you start, the question already forming.

“I’m okay,” she interrupts quickly, her tone firm and reassuring. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” 

You lean against the cold brick wall, shoulders sagging with a mix of exasperation and concern. 

This is the perpetual tightrope of being married to Natasha Romanoff—one moment, she’s your wife, the woman you share quiet, mundane moments with. The next, she’s an Avenger, her world filled with danger and unpredictability.

A sudden gust of icy wind cuts through your coat, making you shiver and clench your jaw to stop your teeth from chattering. 

Natasha must hear it because her voice softens, tinged with concern.

“Are you outside in this weather?” she asks, the slight edge of disapproval unmistakable. 

“It’s too noisy to hear anything inside,” you reply defensively. 

The warmth and bustle inside the building are a stark contrast to the biting cold out here, but you needed the quiet.

You glance back toward the entrance, catching glimpses of parents and grandparents eagerly chatting, their hands clutching bouquets and cameras. The auditorium is filling fast, the anticipation palpable as everyone waits for the ballet recital to begin.

“I just…I wanted to check in,” you admit, your voice softening as you think about the conversation you had earlier with your daughter behind the stage. 

Her small hands had tugged at your sleeve, her wide, hopeful eyes searching yours. 

You let out a small sigh.

“She’s asking if you’re still coming,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. 

On the other end of the line, there’s a brief pause. The sounds of scuffling and distant chaos seem to fade, leaving only Natasha’s steady breathing.

“Get inside, moya lyubov,” she finally says, her voice gentle but resolute. “I promise I’ll be there in time.”

You close your eyes, letting the certainty in her tone wash over you. Natasha has faced impossible odds more times than you can count, and she’s never let you or your daughter down before. 

“Okay,” you reply quietly, your trust in her unshaken.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha bursts through the school doors, her movements swift but controlled. The faint scent of winter snow clings to her Black Widow suit, and her sharp eyes immediately scan the empty hallway. 

A quick glance at her phone tells her she’s still ten minutes early. Relief washes over her, and she takes a deep breath, allowing the warmth of the building to seep in. 

Natasha strides toward the auditorium, intent on finding you and settling in before the performance begins. 

But just as she reaches for the door, she hears the soft pitter-patter of little footsteps behind her. 

She turns, instinctively dropping her defensive stance when she sees the familiar streak of red hair flying toward her.

“Mama!”

The little girl barrels into Natasha, wrapping her small arms tightly around her legs. Her face buries into Natasha’s suit, her muffled breaths quick and uneven. 

Natasha immediately returns the embrace, her heart softening as she strokes her daughter’s hair. 

“Hello, Lena,” Natasha whispers gently, her voice soothing. She uses the nickname affectionately—a nod to her sister, Yelena, whom Lena adores and calls “Aunty Yelena.”

But Lena doesn’t respond to her greeting, her head remaining firmly tucked against Natasha’s body. 

Her small shoulders tremble slightly, and Natasha can feel her little hands gripping the fabric of her suit tightly.

Concern flickers across Natasha’s face. She glances up, spotting you standing a few steps away. 

You’re standing with your arms crossed, your expression a mix of worry and exasperation. When her gaze meets yours, she tilts her head slightly, silently asking for an explanation.

You sigh, offering a helpless shrug before mouthing the words, She’s scared. 

Natasha’s brows knit together. 

Without hesitation, she kneels fully, carefully extracting herself from Lena’s grasp to bring herself to her daughter’s eye level. Her hands move with practiced tenderness as she brushes the unruly strands of red hair away from Lena’s face.

“Lena,” Natasha coaxes, her voice warm and patient. “What’s wrong?”

Lena shakes her head, refusing to look up. Instead, she leans forward, burying her face into Natasha’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around her again.

“Too many,” she mumbles, her voice trembling.

“Too many people?” Natasha asks gently, and Lena nods, her lower lip quivering.

Natasha’s heart clenches. 

She remembers all too well the fear of performing under a watchful audience, though for very different reasons. 

But this isn’t about her—it’s about her daughter.

“Do you still want to do this?” Natasha asks, her tone careful. “It’s okay if you don’t. We can go home.” 

Lena pulls back slightly, her tearful eyes searching Natasha’s face. There’s hesitation, a flicker of doubt, but beneath it, Natasha sees something unmistakable—determination. 

Her little girl is scared, but she doesn’t want to quit. 

A small smile plays on Natasha’s lips as an idea forms. 

“What if I join you on stage?” she offers, her tone light and inviting.

Lena’s face scrunches in thought before a soft pout emerges. 

“But you don’t know the dance,” she murmurs, her voice tinged with uncertainty. 

Natasha raises an eyebrow, feigning offense. 

“Did you forget who I am?” she teases, her voice taking on a dramatic flair. “I’m a superhero!” 

Without warning, Natasha launches a playful tickle attack, her fingers finding the sensitive spots along Lena’s sides.

“Whatever you need, I’m here for you.” 

Lena bursts into giggles, squirming as she tries to fend off her mother’s relentless fingers. The sound of her laughter rings through the hallway, chasing away the tension that had hung in the air moments before. 

Natasha grins, feeling the warmth of the moment seep into her chest.

When Lena’s laughter finally subsides, Natasha stands, brushing off her suit, and glances toward you. 

“Can you ask her teacher if there’s a spare pair of ballet slippers?” she asks with a faint smirk.

You hesitate, your expression shifting to one of quiet concern. 

Natasha’s relationship with ballet is something you’ve never been able to forget—the Red Room, the forced lessons and training, the precision that was more weapon than art.

“Natasha,” you say carefully, your voice tinged with worry. “Are you sure about this?”

She meets your gaze head-on, her green eyes steady and resolute. There’s no shadow of the pain she once carried in them. Instead, there’s something else entirely—resolve, a quiet strength, and even a spark of joy.

“I’m sure,” Natasha replies, her hand resting gently on Lena’s shoulder. She smiles, a genuine, heartfelt smile that lights up her face. “I want to dance with my daughter.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

You return to your seat, settling in as Natasha and Lena make their final preparations behind the stage. Your hands work to turn on the camcorder, ensuring it’s ready to capture the moment. 

As you adjust the settings, a low commotion at the back of the auditorium catches your attention.

Murmurs ripple through the audience, accompanied by the sound of heavy boots and the faint clinking of metal. 

Turning around, you spot the unmistakable figures of the Avengers entering the room, drawing stares of awe and excitement from the surrounding parents and guests. They’re still dressed in their battle gear, dusted with dirt and scratches from whatever fight they must have just finished. 

Steve spots you first, his sharp eyes scanning the room before landing on you. He calls and gestures for the others to follow as they weave through the rows toward the seats you had saved.

“Where’s Nat?” Steve asks as he sets his shield carefully on the ground beneath his seat, his tone casual despite the circumstances.

“She’s backstage with Lena, getting ready,” you reply, amused as you watch the team settle in. 

Wanda sits beside Clint as he removes his quiver, propping it against the seat beside him, while Thor tries to wedge Mjölnir under the narrow chair legs, much to the whispered amazement of nearby onlookers. Bruce tries to adjust his torn shirt before sheepishly giving you a grateful nod when you pass him your jacket, while Sam nudges Bucky, who’s muttering something about how much he hates crowds. 

Tony, true to form, leans forward over Steve and waves dismissively at your camcorder. 

“Come on, that thing’s archaic. Enjoy the show and let the suit handle it—I’ll have a 4K file sent to you before the night’s over.” 

You roll your eyes but concede, stowing the camcorder away. 

Knowing Tony, he’s probably not joking.

The lights dim, signaling the start of the performance. A hush falls over the audience, and your heart beats in anticipation as the curtains part to reveal the young dancers in their opening positions. 

You immediately spot Lena, her red hair tied back into a neat bun, standing in formation with the other children. Her posture is straight, but you can see her nerves in how her eyes dart across the audience. 

Then, she finds you. 

Her gaze softens, and her little shoulders visibly relax when she sees your encouraging smile. Her eyes shift slightly to the row beside you, where the familiar faces of the Avengers sit. 

Thor gives her an exaggerated thumbs-up while Clint offers a subtle nod of approval. 

Lena’s lips curve into a faint smile, and the tension in her posture begins to melt away.

Her gaze then moves to the stage, where Natasha stands poised in position with the ballet teacher, seamlessly blending in with the other performers. Natasha catches Lena’s eye and gives her a subtle, playful wink. 

That’s all it takes to bring a brighter smile to Lena’s face.

The soft strains of the piano begin, the timeless melody of The Nutcracker filling the room. 

The dancers spring into motion, their movements light and deliberate. Your eyes follow Natasha and Lena, the pair moving in perfect sync with the other performers. 

Natasha glides effortlessly across the stage, her movements precise and graceful. Yet her focus is on Lena, her face alight with a rare softness as she watches her daughter perform. 

Lena, bolstered by the presence of her mother and the familiar faces in the audience, dances with a newfound confidence. Her steps are fluid, and her timing is impeccable. 

You feel your heart swell as you watch them. 

Natasha’s expression is one of pride and joy, her past struggles with ballet fading into insignificance as she turns something once painful into a beautiful moment with her daughter.

When the final notes of the piano fade, the dancers hold their ending positions, and the audience erupts into thunderous applause. 

The sound is overwhelming, and yet Lena doesn’t seem to notice. 

As if breaking from the performance mindset, she darts toward Natasha with a gleeful laugh, throwing her arms around her mother’s waist. 

Natasha catches her effortlessly, spinning her in a small circle before holding her close.

From the stage, Natasha looks out into the crowd, her eyes easily finding yours. She holds your gaze for a moment, her expression softening even more as she reads your reaction, and you blow her a kiss, clapping enthusiastically along with the rest of the audience.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

You carefully top off the mugs of hot chocolate with a generous sprinkle of tiny marshmallows, the warm aroma filling the kitchen as you place them on a tray. Balancing the tray in your hands, you head to the living room where Natasha and Lena are sitting. 

The sight that greets you as you round the corner softens your expression instantly. 

Lena is nestled against Natasha’s side, her head resting on her mother’s shoulder, eyes closed in peaceful slumber. Her little hand clutches a blanket loosely, a faint smile still lingering on her face, as if her dreams were carrying her through the joy of the evening. 

Natasha looks down at her with a tenderness that never fails to move you. 

“Hot chocolate delivery,” you whisper, setting the tray on the coffee table. 

Natasha carefully takes a mug, her free hand brushing Lena’s hair gently.

“I guess catching Santa isn’t happening this year,” you remark quietly as you sit on the other side of Natasha, picking up your own mug. 

Natasha chuckles softly, her voice low and warm. 

“She got closer this time—almost made it to midnight.”

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips as you watch your little girl, her steady breaths a soothing rhythm in the cozy glow of the Christmas tree lights. 

After a moment, Natasha carefully sets her mug down, shifting her weight to lift Lena into her arms. 

“I’ll tuck her in.”

You nod, watching as Natasha cradles Lena with ease. 

There’s a protective air about her, a quiet instinct to ensure Lena’s safety and comfort, even in the simplest of acts. 

As Natasha heads to Lena’s room, you take the opportunity to retrieve the hidden presents you’d stashed away earlier. The pile is a mix of brightly wrapped boxes, their bows glinting under the tree’s twinkling lights as you carefully place each one in its spot. 

You’re positioning the last box under the tree when Natasha reappears in the doorway. Her expression shifts instantly, her eyes widening as she realizes where you are.

“Wait, Lena put–” Natasha begins, but it’s too late. 

A soft click echoes from behind the curtains when your hand releases the box. Before you can react, a net springs from its hidden position, entangling you in one swift motion. 

You yelp in surprise as the net tightens around you, sending you to the ground in an unceremonious heap. 

“–a trap there for Santa,” Natasha finishes with a wince, rushing forward to help as you let out an exasperated groan.

She kneels beside you, stifling a chuckle as she starts working to untangle the net. 

“She gets this from your side of the family,” you grumble playfully, earning a laugh from Natasha.

“Probably,” she admits with a smirk. “I bet Yelena gave her the idea.”

As the net loosens, you sit up, brushing stray strands of rope from your lap. 

“Speaking of Yelena, she and your parents are flying in tomorrow morning, right?” 

Natasha nods, leaning back against the base of the sofa. 

“Yeah. They should get here before Lena wakes up.”

You settle beside her, resting your head lightly against her shoulder. Her arm drapes around you automatically, pulling you closer as you both gaze at the tree, now adorned with gifts.

“That’s perfect,” you say softly. “We’ll open presents together.”

Natasha’s gaze lingers on the presents under the tree, her expression distant. A slow, almost disbelieving breath escapes her lips, drawing your attention. 

“What is it?” you ask gently, sensing the shift in her mood.

Natasha hesitates before speaking, her voice tinged with wistfulness. 

“There was a time, years ago, when I was undercover. We had to stage family photos for our cover. I remember being surrounded by Christmas presents—dozens of them. Even though I knew they weren’t real, I wanted to believe it was.”

Her eyes meet yours, soft and filled with gratitude. 

“I never thought I’d get to have this. A real home. A family. Moments like this. And it’s because of you. You gave me this life I never thought was possible.”

Your chest tightens with emotion at her words. Smiling, you cup her face, your thumb brushing gently along her cheekbone. You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, pouring every ounce of love and reassurance you can into the gesture. 

When you pull back, you echo the words she’d spoken earlier to Lena. 

“Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

Natasha laughs softly, her eyes glistening as she tilts her forehead against yours. The sound is warm and filled with love. As she leans in to kiss you again, the clock chimes, its soft tones signaling the arrival of midnight.

Natasha pauses, her lips brushing yours as she whispers, “Merry Christmas, moya lyubov.”

You smile against her lips. “Merry Christmas, Nat.”

And as her lips find yours once more, the world outside seems to fade, leaving only the warmth of the moment, the glow of the tree, and the quiet joy of Christmas shared together.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: This came out later than I wanted 😅, but I still hope everyone has a merry christmas and a happy holidays! Thank you for all the support over the past year! Hopefully, we'll continue together and have fun in the upcoming year.

Side note: I just realized that the my recent update on the series Feline Connection is not showing in the tags (at least for me), so I just wanted to let those know who follow the series that the next part is out.

[stayevildarling]

christmas with natasha romanoff 🎄

makes sure it‘s special for you. thoughtful gifts. tries her best to cook but fails. lots of drinks and board games. gifts you her favorite colour of lingerie for after.

[a-spes]

I am so obsessed with this?? I love the plot, and their dynamics so so much 🥹

《 Under Her Shadow, Pt. 1

Natasha Romanoff x Reader (mafia au)

Warnings: kidnapping, nothing else that I'm aware of..

The room is lively with the hum of conversation, the clink of glasses, and laughter filling the air as you sit back in your chair, eyes surveying the crowd. Your satin dress catches the light with every movement, and the corset, though uncomfortable, is the main piece hugging your frame before allowing the rest of the dress to flow to the ground. Your hair is adorned with wonderful ribbon work that complements the ballet heels on your feet. The high society gala is in full swing, an extravagant event where your boss’ rival group is supposed to be making deals with powerful figures. Your mission is simple. Take out someone important, whether it be a lieutenant or a right hand man, and transfer them back to the warehouse without being compromised. A few people stop by to complement your outfit before moving along. You had blended in with the luxury of the setting, though as the night progresses, your frustration rises from the lack of progress. You need to make a move. That’s when you spot her: A woman in a red dress and matching heels that hugs her figure, standing near the exit with two burly men in suits behind her, speaking with a few people. The problem is, you don’t recognize her as Natasha Romanoff, literally one of the most dangerous bosses of the mafia in the city. She exudes 'Don't fuck with me,' but you still did it. She looks similar to the target that you are actually supposed to intercept. “Yes.. Yes.. I understand..” The red head smiled with no interest in her eyes as she nods.

You stand still, watching her every movement, your eyes narrowing. She's distracted, her frown deepening as she reluctantly shifts her attention to the conversation. The guards are too wrapped up in the moment, the shift of their focus enough for you to slip away unnoticed. You walk swiftly toward the exit, passing the group. Their eyes are locked on the scene unfolding before them. The moment you’re close enough, you slip behind them, unnoticed.

You’re almost there, but then you freeze. The guards start to shift. Something's off. They stop talking, and you feel the shift of air as one of them glances toward the exit and your pulse quickens. In a sudden move of panic, you drag her into one of the bushes used to decorate the front pathway of the mansion, pressing a gloved hand over her mouth to quiet her down. Her eyes widen in disbelief as she struggles, her body fighting against you. The ropes gnaw into her skin as you bind her wrists quickly and efficiently, moving to her ankles next. You tape her mouth to prevent her from alerting her guards as their strong footsteps rush out in panic, searching for her. You catch a glimpse of her sharp eyes on you as you wait for a second before moving. She was in the trunk and you were on your way. The dim warmth of the warehouse lights flickered as the sedan pulls near the entrance. The sound of the handbrake clicks before you step out of the car, your dress gracing the concrete as the cold atmosphere hugs your face. The adrenaline in your veins fuels your hasty movement towards the back of the car. You just did the impossible, thinking your boss would see your worth. But as you popped open the rear, and checked the image on your phone, your stomach sank. This wasn't the right person, but as you looked closer.. You just made a big mistake.

Bound and gagged, the woman before you wasn’t just anyone. The fiery red hair, though messed up, was unmistakable.

Natasha Romanoff.

The Black Widow. The woman rumoured to have quite the interesting skillset and only accepted the best into her inner circle. Was laying down in your trunk, with a dangerous glint in her sharp green eyes. You slammed the trunk shut, panic setting in as you lean against the metal with a desire to rip your hair out. How had you managed to pull this off? More importantly, how long did you have before dawn! You bite your lip, steadying your breath as you force your hand to grip the handle. The trunk feels heavier now, but that’s probably because of your nerves. You slowly click open the trunk of the car again, her eyes unmistakable. Natasha Romanoff glares at you, even with her hands bound and her posture awkward from being stuffed into the confined space. You hesitantly peel off the duct tape and shake your head. “Son of a bitch..” You cruse as you look at your phone again and at the woman in front of you, restrained but still scary as shit.

“Got a plan?” she asks coolly. Her words don’t falter. “Because from where I am, I don’t think this one’s working out for you.”

You tense at her sudden interaction before, slowly looking at her. Your throat is dry. You swallow hard and try to process as your voice cracks. “I-I didn’t.-”

She cuts you off with a scoff. “Didn’t mean to kidnap me?” Her tone laced with mockery. “Good news. You still have a chance to fix this.”

Her confidence sends a chill down your spine. She doesn’t sound desperate. She doesn’t even sound angry. It’s worse. She sounds amused. You glance over your shoulder nervously, half expecting her associates to bash your head in, but there’s nothing.

“What’s your name?” she asks, tilting her head, her eyes never leaving you.

You hesitate, unsure whether to answer the woman.

She sighs. “Right, let me guess. Your boss thinks you’re disposable. Sent you on this little errand because they didn’t think you’d come back alive. And now…” She shifts slightly, the movement causing you to step back despite her being restrained, “You’ve got the biggest problem in the city tied up in your trunk.” "Y/n," I sigh before crossing my arms, "My name is Y/n."

Natasha's smirk widens as the name leaves your lips. “Y/n..,” she repeats, as if she's mocking you. “Well, Y/n, you're in quite the predicament..” This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to grab some random, and disappear before anyone noticed. Not this.

“How the hell did this happen?” you mutter under your breath.

Natasha shifts again, the ropes moving with her. “You tell me. Was it dumb luck? Or are you really that good?” You glare at her, trying to muster up some confidence, but it’s hard when the weight of her gaze makes you want to avoid eye contact at all costs.  “Shut up,” you snap. There’s a beat of silence before her laugh blooms, low and dangerous. “Oh, sweetie, you’re out of your depth. Do you even know what happens now?” You rub your temples, her mockery not assisting with your pounding head. “I know exactly what happens next.” You lie; you have no idea what happens next. “Do you?” she presses, leaning forward as much as her position allows. Her tone turns mocking again. “Because I don’t see a plan forming behind those pretty eyes of yours. And if you don’t figure one out fast…” She leans back, letting the threat linger in the air with a glint in her eyes. She’s right, and the truth tastes bitter on your tongue. You glance at the warehouse, your car, and the void called darkness of the night. You can’t call your boss, not yet at least. Not until you figure out how to turn this mistake something that won’t get you killed.

“Here’s a free tip,” Natasha says, her voice cutting through your panic. “If you untie me now, I might not make you regret it. But the longer you hesitate…” Her smirk turns razor-sharp. “Just.. make it quick..” You were in for it now..

[l0velysmut]

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

[flow33didontsmoke]

when y/n does something so bad/embarrassing you have to facepalm and close your eyes for a minute

[natti-ice]

every time i remember my favorite person isn’t real