#OC: Natasha

[chubsette]

Happy Halloween🍬🎃

[basilone]

#18 on the sets of 3 prompts! Soviet crew pls I am eager for them

Ooooh, thank you so much for sending a prompt for the Soviet crew! And it's a great one: broken windows, waist-high grasses and lit matches. I've situated it in Vienna, so that is right before this particular unit journeys further on in Austria and meets Easy Co. 😊 I think it gives a pretty good sense of Tatiana as a captain, as well as the personalities she's surrounded by!

She doesn’t like cities. Doesn’t like the access roads – too open, too broad, too busy – and certainly doesn’t like the many buildings that have not yet been reduced to rubble. Katya supposes Vienna can be called beautiful, which seems to be a sentiment her fellow soldiers have rowdily adopted too, but any place would be called this so close to war’s end. It doesn’t negate the fact that she can see the war’s gaps in the city too well. Can see the bombardments, which Sergey had loudly marvelled at first thing that morning, and all the best places for a skirmish. Can see where she would have made her own seat as a sniper, too, and that puts her at the front of her unit for a change.

Her hand shoots out. Lands on her captain’s arm. “Wait,” she says, peering up at the building on the upcoming corner. “Windows, Tanya. Look.”

They must look ridiculous, pressed against the wall like this. Tanya’s puff of breath is a noisy exhale as she shifts from foot to foot beside Katya, craning her neck to get a better look at the building herself. Sashka presses in at Katya’s back, muttering something about wanting to get off her feet more than anything, offering the small spyglass Captain Safronov had given her to Tanya now.

“Stupid city,” she hears, then, acid dripping through Olga’s voice as the woman takes a single step away from the wall. “Are we going to do this at every corner?”

“We will do,” says Tanya, words clipped into snappish bites, “when situation says we do. Like now.” Her hand pats Katya’s arm in silent praise, handling the small spyglass as though it is more precious than it is strictly worth. “Broken windows tell you what, Olga?”

Olga’s tone sounds as sour as her face looks. “Sniper.”

“Active?”

Katya turns her head. Raises an eyebrow at Kolya, who’s got both hands stuffed into the pockets of his long coat as though he’s just taking a casual stroll down the road at home. “Probably not,” she allows, jerking her chin at some of the locals who’re seemingly going about their business on this street just fine. “But you know how it is. Soviet uniform attracts bullets, Kolya.”

“Is because we look too good,” he answers, grinning impishly. “We must be stopped at any cost.”

“Mister Fancy Wardrobe,” sniggers Natasha, pressed closer to the wall than anybody, hands curled around her radio like her life depends on it. The woman’s eyes sparkle with mirth as she grins back at Kolya. “All of Vienna devastated when sniper puts bullet in your coat. We would mourn it very bad.”

“Mourn my coat but not me, I see how it is!”

“Oh blessed silence,” booms Sergey, so loudly that one of the Viennese women passing them actually startles into giving him a wide berth. “I would hear myself think for first time in years if Kolya goes quiet as mouse. Bah, I would be very surprised at myself!”

“I can imagine the experience of thought would be shocking to you, Seryozha.” Kolya’s grin does not leave his face as he swiftly darts out of Sergey’s reach and wedges himself between Katya and Tanya as though they can protect him. Sergey’s oi! is sharp, but the man does not move a muscle away from Lena and Leonid, who’re both wedged between the wall and Sergey’s larger form. Kolya rakes a hand through his curls, causing Katya to lean back from his elbow in a hurry. “Are we moving or not, Tatochka? I cannot feel my toes in these boots anymore,” he laments, lifting one foot and showing how his sock peeks out of the hole at its side that has already been patched and repatched twice over. “And Katya says sniper not active.”

“I did not say that!”

“Close enough, eh?”

“Pfah, maybe Sergey has point,” mutters Tanya darkly, glaring up at Kolya and squeezing his arm in warning. “I think is clear, no movement up there. Maybe we can rest there.” She allows the possibility to exist, tempting as it is to anyone who’s been on their feet as long as they have. “Maybe they have kitchen for cooking.”

“Warm food?” pipes up Sashka, taking her spyglass back from Tanya. “Really?”

“Really. Olga and Leonid can make work.” As always, Tanya doesn’t stop to question if her ideas will function or if they are willing to do it. Her trust in their abilities seems absolute these days, often encouraging them all to go well past what they believe themselves capable of. “We need it,” she says, quieter, so that even Katya has to strain to hear her. “We need food. Rest.”

“Especially here,” says Katya, moving past Kolya and Tanya to edge closer to the building’s door. “The things I would give to be back home right now, where the only danger lurks in grass that comes as high as my waist,” she laments, remembering even now how the steppe seemed to bend and sway around any predator before long. There is no way to hide like there is in a city like this one. She sighs, peering up at the broken windows one last time before trying the door. “Is open”– she narrates, pushing it ajar slightly –“if anyone has match…?”

“Little grenade?” asks Tanya, hands already gesturing at Leonid further down the line. “Good thought.”

“Like we always do,” she affirms for her captain, peering at the slivers of dark hallway she can already see. “We can use lit match from grenade also for candle, if you have.”

“Kolya?”

“I am so happy nobody shot candle out of my pocket,” mutters the lieutenant, already digging through his many supplies in search of one. “Why don’t you have one, eh?”

“I do,” smiles Tanya, teeth glittering brightly in her soot-smudged face, “but I am saving for later. I saw Americans two blocks away, I want to take more matches from them before I use candle.”

Kolya closes his eyes, grimacing as though he is in pain. “Stop telling me you are going to steal from Americans.”

“Is borrowing.” Their captain shrugs. “I will give back.”

“Returning burnt-out matches,” remarks Leonid, appearing at Kolya’s shoulder and cutting to the heart of the matter as always, “is not best way to make friends with them, captain.”

“Ah, who says I want to make friends with Americans?”

“I want to,” says Katya, nodding at Leonid and smiling as the man nods back. “I am tired of fighting, eh? Maybe Americans will be very nice to us.” She certainly hopes they will be. “I want to ask them many questions about their life. I am practicing my English with Kolya”– she nods, grinning even as the grenade flashes and booms in the hallway before her –“and I think maybe they will give us things so we do not have to steal.”

Tanya’s eyebrow raises imperiously. “How are you still so naive?”

“Is not naive to believe best of person,” she says, patting Tanya’s arm. “But you can do things your way, too, captain. We can compare, eh?”

“Katya’s charm versus Tatochka’s sour face,” snickers Kolya, pushing the door open in its entirety. “I already know who wins.”

“Why do I even like you people…”

“Pfah, you don’t,” grins Katya, resisting the urge to jerk her chin at Olga to illustrate the fact. “You are just stuck with us, ma’am. For better and worse. Good army unit is like marriage.”

“Don’t let my wife hear that,” rumbles Sergey good-naturedly, stepping closer to them as he carefully arranges a smoke for his pipe. “Leonid, be dear man, give me… ahhh, thank you, that is ticket” – he exhales, using Leonid’s newly lit match for his pipe –“Valentina is going to have to share me with all of you, eh?”

Kolya’s voice rises up from the hallway instantly. “She can have you!”

“Da, that is what she said,” grins Sergey, winking at them as he shoulders his way into the building.

“Spare me all your hands in marriage,” mutters Tanya darkly as she presses her hand against Sergey’s back and follows suit. “I feel like I am taking care of babies.”

Katya can’t help the grin that spreads on her face as she listens to the bickering that rises from the hallway. She still does not like cities. Hates them, in fact, for the dangers that they pose. But buildings like these, in which they can rest and come together as a family? These might not be so bad at all.

[art-banhana]

Happy New Year!! Sero with nyas girlfriend Natasha :3

[living-in-a-fantasia]

Natasha

[vampfucker666]

[teddytedbert]

What took you so long?! I’ve been waiting here foreeeeever just for you!

[brokenhardies]

stepdaughter now has names;

the name she introduces herself as is natasha, because she doesn't remember her real name

her real name - which she is referred to by in flashbacks - is alyona

[puzzled-artist]

Oh to be a small town girl who wanders into the sexy Vampire's castle

[fuj0wuj0]

Second addition

NOW we truly have them all 🙏 Featuring @not-so-ori-ginal's Mitscheur and my friend's Kathar :D

[Top row: Natasha, Renwalt, Salung (Sam's body) Bottom row: Mitscheur, Harold, Kathar]

Got the gang back together :D

Some of my Igniter OCs didn't have a human re/design since their literal day of conception, so I've been drawing some heads to de-stress lately :^)

[Top row: Keballius, Merlin, Fred Bottom row: Loonia, Gahir, Kali]

[darkwaveho]

Mini Burden

Summary: Natasha's act of gentle parenting goes out the window for the first time.

Warnings: mentions of spanking, verbal abuse? gaslighting, guilt tripping, toxic relationship, angst, unresolved trauma.

Part 2

series masterlist

You never thought your daughter would return from an outing with Natasha with tears streaming down her face and so distraught. she runs into the house searching for you screaming your name. it's clear in her voice that she's upset. it isn't out of the ordinary that she comes home crying or upset because she didn't get what she wanted at the store or something so small as not stopping for ice cream before having dinner.

when she finds you in the kitchen, she practically runs into you clinching your legs as she cries into your jeans. "What happened Ana?" you soothe her as much as you can to get the words to come out clearly. Natasha still hasn't said anything on the situation or what happened. she doesn't even seem bothered by how upset she is. "M-mama." She stutters her words, your means to calming her down do nothing, you will get down to the problem, but your priority right now is to calm her heartbeat and break the potential fever that was coming on. you pick her up in your arms and head upstairs, you glance at Natasha on your way out and her facial expression gives you nothing. she's showing no emotions behind her eyes. she doesn't whisper to you on your way-out bout telling you the details later like she normally does and that scares you. it takes you about an hour to calm Anastasia down, she fought you on giving her a bath, she picked at her dino nuggets barely eating them, something serious has happened. You put Anastasia under neath her blanket. "Ana, can you tell me what happened at the store with mama?" her eyes fill with tears again and you're quick to reassure her. "Hey, it's okay." you gently rub her cheek with your thumb. "I wanted a new toy, mama said no it I really wanted it, mama told me to put it back."

"And what did you do?" you wait for the rest of the story, you know ana isn't entirely innocent she played a part in whatever this situation is. you concern is the outcome of whatever Natasha did because of it. "I knocked the other toys on the floor, and mama told me to pick it up. I didn't want to." you sigh softly knowing that this type of behavior is not acceptable or tolerated. "Ana, you know that's not okay." she nods her head slightly, understanding that her actions were wrong. "Keep going."

"She did the count down, but I still didn't pick them up." Natasha patience was wearing down you're sure of it, especially when the countdown isn't working. "She yelled at me to pick them up and when I yelled back at her she-"

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

"I thought we agreed to never do that?" you burst into the room finally, Natasha thought you wouldn't even be sleeping in the same bed as her tonight. she looks up from her phone after typing away at the keyboard for a moment. she's not even surprised that ana told you what happened, but the worst part is she doesn't look remorseful.

"Yeah, well its clearly not working. She thinks she can do whatever she wants whenever she wants but we have to remember that we are the parent here y/n."

"There are other ways to discipline, we've been doing that already so what was so out of the ordinary today that you couldn't stick to it?"

"It was a few taps on the butt she'll be fine." Natasha waves that sentence off as if that means nothing to her. this is what you were afraid of when you two had talks about starting a family. unresolved issue within Natsha's past have kept you from wanting a child with her amongst other things but she put in the work to prove that she can be better, that she is better than her parents, you don't know what happened to that mentality today.

"She's not fine Natasha!" you raise your voice pointing at the door, the image of Anastasia bawling her eyes out as she ran into the house is frozen in your mind. "You popped our daughter because she's not old enough to fully control or express her emotions?"

"You should've saw the way she acted in that store, people stared at me!"

"So, she had a tantrum, she's fucking six-years old!"

"I am sick, sick of this gentle parenting bullshit! I have to walk around on eggshells about correcting my own daughter's actions." Natasha makes it point to throw her jacker across the room. it's fitting that she's having a tantrum of her own right now, but you bite your tongue.

"Did you have this same sentiment when you were in Ana's shoes?"

"What?"

"Were you this passionate about child discipline when you were the one receiving a back hand to the face? or a bruise to your skin, or a harsh and unforgivable word spit out at you with disgust?"

"That is not the same!"

"Isn't it though? it was nothing gentle about Alexei's parenting and even Melina didn't do her job right as a mother, she failed to protect you."

"That's great, it always comes back to this huh? I'm the thing."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm the thing in this house, I'm the thing in the relationship. I am the thing that's broken and will always remain broken. That part of me will never be fixed as much as I try to be what you want me to be for you and for our family." you open your mouth to speak, to stop her from breaking down her own progress even though she's done that the moment her hand came down against Anastasia. Natasha doesn't give you the chance to speak. "I chose to go against your script one time and now I am the winner of the worst mother in the world award. "Throwing my past back into my face to make me feel like shit about disciplining our daughter." you've had enough. you won't allow her to do this. you storm towards her fuming figure matching her anger. insinuating your words with a shove or pressing a finger into her chest the more upset it makes you.

"You seem to have forgot that she not just your daughter, she's our daughter and we agreed, mutually! We agreed to never place a hand on her, ever! you will not guilt trip me or gaslight me into thinking that what you did today is okay. Not this time, not when it comes to her!" In the past you were accustomed to taking Natasha back even when gaslighted, even when she was dead wrong, even when she knew she was wrong she still found a way to flip the script and make it about her being the victim. you don't want to hear her anymore, you're heard enough, you don't know who you're talking to right now. this was not your girlfriend; this was not the mother of your child. Natasha waits for you to say something else, she's looking for you to fight her, she'd argue with you all night long if you let her. You turn around quickly leaving out of the bedroom and slamming the door behind you. Natasha doesn't chase you; she doesn't scream after you, she lets you go. she lets you go to whatever room in this house you want to go to.

When Natasha wakes woken up to an empty bed, and a quiet house she knows you're not there, she knows her daughter isn't there. reflections of the argument hit her like a tidal wave. images of her daughter with tears streaming down her face and flinch of her body the moment Natasha tried to put her in the car seat correctly. it was too late; the damage had been done. even though her anger has simmered down to not even being a factor that would not be the case for you and Anastasia. You don't answer her calls, you don't answer her texts, you turn off Anastasia's location on her iPad as well as blocking Natasha's number. it would actually stop her from finding you, but you don't want her having immediate access to Anastasia, not right now. Natasha flops down into her office chair pouring another glass of alcohol, she's lost track of how many she's had, she doesn't care she'll take anything to numb her pain. Natasha drowns her thoughts in the glass of whiskey, drinking her problems away seem to be a better option right now than to constantly blow up your phone or to randomly pop up at your hotel room furthering the fear her daughter now has of her. She unlocks a drawer in her desk with shaky hands she retrieves a heavy file, and as she opens it a few photos fall onto the floor.

She doesn't pick those up, she spreads the Polaroid photos out across her desk. Each picture is of her through the years with a new bruise or injury. each photo holds a different story, a different reason for each bruise, black eye or broken bone. Those are photos you took of her, photos that she asked you to take, no matter how many times you denied. You did what she requested. She kept them. She kept the reminder of what she went through and here she is exhibiting the same behavior towards her daughter. Nastasha doesn't notice it immediately but the drop of fallen tears hitting her cherry wood desk makes her aware. She is crying. She hurt her daughter, not only emotionally but physically. Natasha feels sick to her stomach, she doesn't know how to make this up she doesn't even know if she should have the privilege of being a mom. Would her daughter hate her for the rest of her life? Would you leave and take Anastasia from her for good? and the bigger question is Can she be forgiven?

[writing-until-i-drop]

These are some of my favorite Top Gun Maverick fics, if you haven't read them, you should check them out!

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Mr. Right Now by @roosterforme

Anatomy of an Arsonist by @desert-fern

Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car) by @startrekfangirl2233-writes

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Is It Working For You? by @roosterforme

Batting Practice by @roosterforme

Faking It by @tongue-like-a-razor

Where Do You Go? by @thatlovinfeelin

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

Melt the ice by @callsigndragon

reunion kisses. by @sebsxphia

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Pretend by @attapullman

That's Mine by @attapullman

When the Stars Align by @mynameismckenziemae

Let's do IT for our country by @sorchathered

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

What if...they met in college? (1)

Instead of being forced into espionage, Kat and Nat grew up in society like normal kids. But fate always forces them together. As roommates in college this time. One popular girl and one nerdy girl.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 4.7k • Warnings: none • A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @nataliasquote !!! This one is for you. The college AU you are so obsessed with. More parts to follow :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

Katya

The hallways of the campus' dormitories were chaos. Bags, suitcases, instruments, and people, lots of people, blocked Katya's way as she tried to navigate her way to room 415. They bumped into her left and right, and screamed things in her ear as she parkoured over their stuff, yanking on the handle of her suitcase aggressively whenever it got stuck. 

Move-in day was busy, really busy. She meant to avoid rush hour by arriving early, but she'd gotten stuck in traffic. For two hours. Now her roommate had gotten to their room before she did and undoubtedly claimed the good side, probably leaving her with very little space and very possibly decorating the floor with the world's ugliest rug. 

Katya stopped halfway down the hall to catch her breath, dropping her heavy sports bag to the floor to give her poor, aching shoulder a break. With the back of her hand, she pushed her glasses up her nose and brushed some hair from her forehead. It would have been great to have some help. At the end of the hall, a girl had a whole team to help her move in. Parents, sister or friend, boyfriend or brother. But Katya didn't have anyone, so she had to take three roundtrips to the parking lot by herself.

With a sigh, she hoisted the bag up again and watched the room numbers climb the further she walked down the hall. The girls in room 410 had their door open, a song from fifteen years ago blasting from a portable speaker on their desks. They must know each other, because both their sides of the room were in coordinating colors. One of them caught Katya's nosy eye and gave her an awkward smile.

411, 412, 413, 414…

The door to room 415 was open. Katya stopped and took one last, deep breath before stepping into the doorway. 

She was right. Her roommate had already decorated her part of the room. Her eye immediately fell on the large rug between the beds. A fluffy, really soft looking beige one that looked very tempting for a nap. It suited the rest of the surprisingly calm decorations. 

White bed sheets with various neutral colored pillows on top, the subtle black and white prints on the wall, the beige colored plant pots, the fairylights that emitted a soft yellow glow, and the beige curtains that Katya also wasn't mad about. The only thing that held some color were the pictures on the corkboard above her headboard.

Whoever this girl was, she had good taste.

Katya dumped her suitcase by the unoccupied bed and threw her duffel bag on top, careful to avoid the rug with her shoes. The knot in her stomach unraveled a little bit. Maybe her worries about her roommate had been invalid. She had definitely been overthinking too much. It even smelled nice in here, like her roommate had lit a vanilla scented candle.

''Oh, you're here!'' A cheerful voice came from behind Katya. ''I went to pick up two muffins from downstairs because I was hungry and I figured you would be too.'' 

Katya turned around… and was met with the most stunning woman she'd ever seen in her entire life. 

The same height as her, lean build, fair skin—but that wasn't what Katya's gaze was drawn to. A pair of full, pink lips framed a beautiful wide smile that reached all the way up to her even more beautiful, sparkling green eyes. Her eyelashes were so long they nearly touched her perfectly defined eyebrows, and when she blinked, they brushed over her sharp cheekbones. Her nose wasn't small or pointy, and had a little bump that would make most people self-conscious, but fit her face so well that everyone would be jealous of it anyway.

But somehow, like that wasn't already enough to turn heads, this all paled in comparison to the long, slightly curly hair that fell down her shoulders. It was that kind of bright, deep red that non-redheads tried to achieve but never could. The kind that naturally looked darker in the winter and lit up slightly orange in the summer sun. Everchanging and unique, and part of the reason why Katya's heart was hammering in her chest. 

''I'm Natasha.''

Oh. My. God. 

Katya could not form a single thought. Her mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert in the middle of the summer. She could only stare. Stare at her roommate while she tried to fight off the gay panic that reduced her to a completely useless human being. 

This could not be happening. The girl she had to live with for a year could not be this excruciatingly attractive. Freshman year would be her end. 

Awkwardly, she cleared her throat when she saw that Natasha was waiting for a response, an amused eyebrow quirked up on her forehead. God, she was already making a fool of herself. ''Katya Petrova,'' she said shortly, her smile filled with embarrassment as she accepted the blueberry muffin Natasha kindly got her. Get yourself together, or she's gonna get tired of your weirdness quickly.

It wasn't physically possible, but Natasha's perfect eyes lit up even more. ''Russian?''

''Yeah.''

Her smile turned into a mysterious smirk that sent tingles down Katya's spine. ''Then we're gonna get along just fine,'' she said, and Katya couldn't help but feel like there was some sort of double meaning she was missing. Natasha looked at her like she was a meal, and her nerves intensified.

''Uh, thank you for the muffin,'' she blurted out.

''You're welcome,'' Natasha mused, totally cool as she leaned back against her desk. It was unfair, how she turned Katya into a complete mess while she remained confident and calm. But it was so attractive. Katya shivered as Natasha's green eyes slowly looked her up and down. ''I think I picked right. You look like a blueberry muffin girl.''

An awkward chuckle slipped past Katya's lips. She wanted to get away from that piercing gaze desperately, anything to think clearly again, but it wouldn't let her move. ''What does that mean?''

''I don't know.'' With a smirk—and intense eye contact—Natasha brought her ring finger to her lips and sucked the muffin crumbs off. Casually, she repeated the motion with her other fingers, her entire thumb disappearing in her mouth.

Katya felt her eyes widen, more gay panic flushing her veins until her heart thudded loudly in her chest. Images, ones she would never say out loud, filled her mind. Her lower stomach turned into knots while a blush covered her cheeks. She turned away, pretending to be really busy with unpacking. She swore she heard a soft chuckle behind her.

''I hope you don't mind the rug and the curtains. I took the liberty to decorate.''

''That's okay," Katya answered, having trouble remembering what the curtains even looked like. They were the very last thing on her mind as she rummaged aimlessly through her bag, hoping Natasha didn't notice that she wasn't doing anything.

''Is that all your stuff?''

Katya shook her head, risking a glance over her shoulder. She was relieved to see that Natasha's flirty expression had turned into something more puzzled. ''No, the rest is in my car.''

It wasn't hard to put two and two together. Natasha's eyes visibly softened. ''Are you here alone?''

''Yes," Katya answered casually, ignoring the stab in her heart.

It stayed quiet a moment longer than normal, painfully so. These silences were nothing new. She'd started to expect them. On Mother's day, on Father's day, on Christmas, on Thanksgiving, but also moments like these, where she didn't know she would be missing parents until she was in the moment. 

''Does your family live far away?'' Natasha asked carefully.

''Sort of.''

She put her muffin down and uncrossed her arms. ''Let me help you carry the rest up. I can't possibly let you walk back and forth countless times while I take a nap,'' she joked lightheartedly.

''Oh, no, it's okay. Really. You don't have to help me," Katya refused, not in the mood for pity. But Natasha stood up straight and tied her beautiful hair into a perfect messy bun.

''Well, I want to," she said with a tone so definitive that Katya lost all her will to protest. "And I'm not taking no for an answer.'' She looked ready to tackle a big job. Hands on her Lululemon shorts-clad hips, sports shoes on her feet. And those lean arms…they could surely carry a few boxes.

Katya considered it for a moment, and then nodded. It would be nice to have some help. ''Okay then.'' Natasha flashed her a big smile.

Somehow, she faced none of the struggles from before—having to parkour her way through the halls. People seemed to get out of their way for Natasha, driven by some invisible force that must have been her confident aura.

Katya felt entirely unworthy to be walking next to her. They attracted lots of eyes, and the reason they looked at them certainly wasn't her red, sweaty face. Nobody noticed a dull brunette next to a redheaded goddess in gym shorts and a crop top. 

Natasha didn't seem to notice anything. She kept talking to Katya, completely comfortable yapping to someone she'd only met five minutes ago, while Katya tried not to let her gay panic turn into real, uncontrollable panic. She only heard half of what her roommate was saying.

''Hey, Nat!''

They were in the quad, a huge field of grass between the main campus buildings. Today, the main path was lined with stalls full of information and help. If someone couldn't find their dorm or there was another problem, they could visit here. 

A guy, looking older than her, had called Natasha's name from one of the stands, his hand in the air to grab her attention. Katya's first instinct was; football player. He had the build for it.

''Jason!" She smiled, not stopping to talk to him. "How are you?''

He was the fourth guy to greet her like that. Like he knew her. They all looked vastly different—though good-looking—and they all looked older. Some closer to twenty-four than eighteen. It was odd. Where did she know all of them from? Katya was starting to gain suspicions that her roommate may be more well-known around here than she thought.

"So, what's your thing?" Natasha asked suddenly. Katya had been brooding over her roommate's popularity so hard that she didn't realize she'd fallen silent. Or that they were close to the parking lot. 

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"What are you here for?" Natasha clarified, smiling when she still saw the confusion on Katya's face. "Law and dance, that's my thing. Studying law, and I'll be trying out for the dance team."

Katya didn't find this surprising at all. Natasha looked like that kind of person who could do it both. Arts and literature. Body and brains. Someone good at absolutely everything. It also explained her subtle muscles and lean figure. Of course, the gorgeous, popular girl was a dancer. What were the chances she was a cheerleader in high school?

"Of course, you are." Katya paled when she realized the words had escaped her.

Natasha smirked amusedly. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Katya said quickly. Her roommate's need to fluster her all the time was starting to get on her nerves. She fiddled with her car keys, smiling nervously. "I'm not as interesting as you, I'm afraid."

Natasha tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with something flirty. "You interest me."

Heat rose on Katya's cheeks once more. She kept getting caught off guard by Natasha's simple yet effective smooth-talking. Everything she said seemed to have some sort of double meaning. Her body could not keep up with its reactions.

"History is my thing. History and literature. But the literature is just a hobby," she said awkwardly, trying to hide her red cheeks. Her studies and hobbies always sounded boring to begin with, but next to Natasha's they looked even worse. Katya grimaced. "I told you it's boring."

"No, it's not!" Natasha rushed to reassure her. "I've always envied people who could quote Hemmingway off the top of their heads. Are you one of those people?"

"Kind of." Katya smiled shyly when she realized that Natasha was being genuine. 

"That's cool." The redhead smiled. "Everyone has their own interests, don't be embarrassed of yours."

Katya wasn't used to the conversation going this way. It was a breath of fresh air. "Most people think it's lame," she said as she popped the trunk of her terribly plain and old Honda Civic.

Natasha shrugged, picking up the first box she saw. "People will always have opinions, so you are better off just doing what you like."

"Can't disagree." Katya smiled at her. Would things finally be different? Would she finally fit in somewhere? The day started off with lots of frustration but now the future looked very hopeful. Maybe she would finally feel at home somewhere.

It took the both of them three trips to get everything upstairs, after which Katya bought Natasha an iced coffee to thank her. She was drinking that as she scrolled on her phone and absentmindedly talked to Katya while Katya unpacked her stuff. 

Everything she had was in these boxes, her whole life. She had no family to store anything with, so all of it had to fit within the four walls of this room. There was some odd stuff in some of these boxes. But Natasha didn't ask her about anything. Overall, she had been nothing but considerate and an amazing roommate.

"This campus is full of disgusting boys."

Katya jumped. She had her back turned to the door, and with the business in the hallway hadn't heard someone stop in their doorway. It was a small blonde with her hands in her pockets. She looked annoyed, bored and disgusted all at the same time, like a moody teenager. Questionably, Katya looked at Natasha.

The woman sighed and put her phone down. "Kat, meet my little sister, Yelena. Yelena, this is Katya, my roommate."

As if she was only now realizing there was another person in the room, the blonde—Yelena—looked at Katya. Then she let out the loudest gasp. "Oh my god, they put you with a nerd." She laughed.

Katya blushed and looked away. That's not the first time she's heard that. In fact, people all throughout her life had taken the liberty of calling her that. It wasn't her looks per se—she didn't wear braces, outdated clothes, or thick-rimmed glasses. She was a normal kid, in normal clothes, with a delicate, modern-looking pair of glasses balancing on her nose. And, if Katya might say so herself, she wasn't ugly.

No, it was the things she did and liked that put a sticker on her. First of all, her introvertness and her shyness. It had gotten a lot better with age. She didn't stutter or stumble over her words as much anymore, but her shy nature stayed. It made that she never quite fit in with anyone. She didn't have big friend groups or hang around the popular kids. She usually had one good friend who she could sit in peaceful silence with.

Then there were the books, the literature, the movies she watched. Katya realized very young that she was different from the other girls in her class. She preferred the works of writers long gone, liked her movies black and white, and would rather spend her Friday afternoon reading than going to parties. They bullied her for having her lunch break in the library, reading alone, for getting an A on every test. Her interest lay with history, not with the latest Hollywood gossip. 

It shouldn't get to her, but in their cores, everyone wanted to belong, to be liked. She couldn't simply turn off her human instinct.

Natasha's hands curled into fists, and it looked like she was going to explode on her sister, until an older woman stepped into the room. Her hair was so dark brown it nearly looked black, and her face held a stern expression. She was also incredibly gorgeous. "Yelena Belova! That is not how I raised you!"

Yelena cringed. "Sorry, Mama," she muttered.

The woman's scowl disappeared as she turned to Katya, a warm, motherly smile appearing on her face instead. "Hello, my dear. I'm Melina, Natasha's mother. Please excuse my rude daughter. I promise I raised them both better than that."

A warm feeling flushed through Katya's body. "It's okay, ma'am. Natasha helped me carry the rest of my stuff up from my car."

"Good girl." Melina smiled proudly at her daughter. Natasha rolled her eyes, clearly not at ease with her family around a stranger. "If you don't need us anymore, Yelena and I will be leaving."

"Yes, please take her out of here." 

Anger flashed across Yelena's face. "I sacrificed my free day for you, you ungrateful—"

"Girls!" Melina sighed, shaking her head. With pity, she looked at Katya. "I wish you luck with her, my dear—"

"What does that mean?" Natasha exclaimed.

"---and be nice to each other. Natasha, if you need me, I'm just a call away."

"And just a town away." She rolled her green eyes again. "No need for emotional goodbyes."

"Well, I am gonna miss you."

"I'm not," Yelena mumbled under her breath, smiling innocently when her mother glared at her.

Natasha sighed and started to walk them out the door. Like a dog herding sheep. Katya tried not to laugh as Melina and Yelena stumbled over each other into the hallway. "Mhm, goodbye now. Thank you for helping me today." Natasha closed the door in their faces, locking it for good measure. A pleasant silence filled the room. "I'm sorry about her."

"It's alright." Katya shrugged, though her brain was still trying to process what just happened. "I'm used to being called a nerd. It's not an insult."

"She meant it as one. She's a dick." Natasha chewed on her lip, clearly ashamed and embarrassed of her sister's behavior. It meant a lot to Katya that it mattered so much to her.

"It's okay, Natasha, really." 

The redhead smiled carefully. "Melina is probably yelling at her now, though."

Katya laughed. "Their faces as you pushed them out the door..."

"If I hadn't, they would still be standing here, arguing." Natasha returned to her bed, falling back into the same position as before they were rudely interrupted. It already felt so domestic, so comfortable. They could exist together and do their own thing without bothering the other.

"Your sister is completely different from you, isn't she?" Katya asked as she continued her unpacking.

"Yes and no. She's more moody, sassy, rude." Katya chuckled when Natasha rolled her eyes. "But she's driven, hard working, and incredibly loyal to the people she loves. She will fight someone for you... Literally… She loves punching people."

Katya laughed. "She sounds like a good sister to have."

"She'll do." Natasha suddenly perked up, like someone flipped the switch of focus in her brain. Smirking, she studied the boxes on Katya's side of the room. "So, in which one of those is your lingerie?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Orientation had broken Katya's brain. She'd gotten so much information at once that she literally had a headache. A bad one. Add that to a bad night of sleep—only four hours in total because of her new surroundings and anxiety—and she was ready to crash.

She unlocked her door and stumbled into the room, not surprised to see it empty. Natasha's shoes were gone and her bed was made. From what Katya learned yesterday, she seemed to know a lot of people, so she was undoubtedly chatting with every person she ran into. Maybe she wouldn't even return until late. At least Katya had her number.

She took advantage of Natasha's absence to take a long shower. Then she drew the curtains closed and laid down for a nap, her headache already subsiding after chugging two glasses of water. Her eyelids were so heavy, sleep tugged on her brain… 

When her phone rang. 

Katya let out the loudest groan, hurting her head in the process. Who dared to interrupt her nap? Ideally, she would have ignored it, but it could be Natasha or somebody else important. Blindly, she felt around until her fingers wrapped around her phone, her eyes squinting against the bright light to read the name on the screen. 

Tony.

Yep, that made sense. That man always had the worst timing. 

"What?" Katya snapped.

"What a way to greet me. Are you busy?" He gasped dramatically, then lowered his voice. "Wait, are you finally getting laid?"

Katya sighed, the tips of her ears burning. Ever since he stopped seeing her as a kid, he was trying to get her laid. Unsuccessfully. "No."

"Then you got time for me. Did you get settled in?" 

"If you were actually here to help me, you would have known," she said accusingly. "But you're too busy slutting yourself out in Miami."

"Going on holidays is important," Tony said casually. Katya rolled her eyes. He wasn't vacationing, he was partying and drinking. Club music boomed in the background of the call. His classes didn't start for another week. "You know what's also important? If your roommate is hot."

Katya groaned, reaching for the curtain to tug it open. She was so glad this was not a FaceTime call, or he would have seen how red her face was. "I'm not entertaining you with an answer."

"So she is." His stupid grin could be heard in his voice. She wanted to slap him. "What's her name?"

Katya hesitated. Whenever she told him about her crushes, Tony would go and mingle. It wouldn't be the first time he scared one away, but if she didn't tell him now, he would show up next week on her doorstep. Even worse. "Natasha," she answered reluctantly. "You wouldn't like her, she's ginger."

"Wait. A Natasha with red hair? Does she have big tits and a great ass?"

As much as Katya wanted to yell at him for objectifying women, she couldn't help but blush. Of course, her gay ass had not been able to resist taking a look at Natasha's body. Subtly and respectfully, of course. Her thoughts had not been subtle or respectful though, but they were safely inside her head so it was okay. She wasn't that kind of person.

"She looks great, yes."

Exactly at that moment, Natasha freaking Romanoff herself burst through the door, looking incredible as always. Denim shorts, tank top, messy ponytail—Katya's heart skipped a beat. Nobody should look that good after a full day of walking around in the late summer heat. God, she was a mess for her. 

"Who looks great?" Natasha smirked, dropping her bag to the ground. "Some girl at orientation already grabbed your attention?"

"Uh—I…no. There's nobody," Katya stammered, watching wide-eyed as Natasha took the hair tie out her hair and shook all those gorgeous curls loose. Her biceps flexed subtly when she fluffed it up.

"Uhu. Better give me a chance too before you set your sights on someone," Natasha teased.

Katya's breath caught in her throat. Was she dreaming? "Y-You?"

"Yeah. Unless you're not into girls." Natasha smiled smugly when she glanced at Katya's stunned expression. "I thought so. Me too."

If this were a cartoon, Katya's eyeballs would have bulged out of her head. Surely, she was dreaming now. There was no way this was reality. "You're gay?"

Natasha shrugged, grabbing a towel from the cabinet. "I'm a little bit of everything. As long as it's hot and kissable, I'm kissing it." She smirked, and then she closed the bathroom door behind her like she hadn't just turned Katya's whole world upside down.

There was an error in her brain. Her brain had flatlined. Open-mouthed, Katya stared at the door her roommate had disappeared through. She was sweating. Did Natasha seriously just say that she is into girls and she wants a shot with her? Was her headache actually a stroke and was she hallucinating? 

"Shut the fuck up. Your roommate is Natasha Romanoff?" 

Katya jumped. She'd completely forgotten that she was on the phone with Tony, and that he just heard everything. Her heart was racing in her chest. "Is that supposed to mean anything to me?"

He sighed. "You're hopeless. You need to get out more. She has a reputation for crashing college parties since she was 15. She's basically a legend."

It all made sense now. The guys who knew her, her popularity, why she knew her way around campus so well. She cuddled up with college guys while she was still in high school. 

How in the world did Katya, a nerd, get matched up with someone like what? Some funny forces were at play here. Someone up there must be laughing very hard.

"Okay, bye now." She just caught the start of Tony's protests when she cut off the call. She loved him, but she needed a moment to process these developments, and his endless yapping in her ear did not let her think clearly. 

He came into her life at a time where she needed someone the most. Orphaned since birth, Katya grew up in orphanages across the country. The last one she lived in, from age thirteen to literally last week, she met him. He'd protected her on the first day, when some older guys bullied her, and from there, he'd become her big brother. She saw him as that, too; family. Did he know Natasha personally?

Katya panicked when the shower turned off in the other room. Like, had a full-on silent panic attack. Not enough time had passed to process anything or to calm down. She couldn't face Natasha again. Not yet. What if she continued the conversation where it left off?

Quickly, she dived for her laptop and headphones, and put on the first TV show she could find. When Natasha came out of the bathroom, she didn't even spare her a glance. It was possibly the best performance of her life, pretending she was interested in her show and her heart wasn't pounding in her ears.

But Katya looked at her from the corner of her eye whenever she could, trying to figure out what the hell she was doing. Natasha seemed to be getting ready for something. She did her makeup and spent at least ten minutes in front of her closet, trying to figure out what to wear. Katya's eyes widened when she came out of the bathroom in a short, tight party dress later. There were curves and skin everywhere.

Frowning, Katya slid her headphones off. "Are you going somewhere?"

Natasha smiled over her shoulder, slipping her earrings in. Her eyes looked incredibly bright with the dark eyeshadow around it. Mesmerizing. "There's a welcome-back party in the Kappa Delta Psi house." 

"Aren't those for older students?"

Amusement flickered across the redhead's face. "I have a fake ID." She grabbed a pair of heels from under her bed and slipped those on too. They made her toned legs look incredible, miles long. Katya tried not to drool. "You should come."

Katya quickly shook her head, her anxiety surging at the thought of a college party. "Oh, no, thank you. Parties are not really my thing."

Natasha chuckled, a beautiful sound that sent the butterflies in Katya's stomach into a frenzy. "Alright. I'll be back late. Don't wait up." She swung her small purse over her shoulder and set out for the door. Her beautiful hair swung left and right over her exposed back, her pale skin glowing in the light of the setting sun. She looked ethereal. Katya called her name before she decided to.

"Nat?"

With her hand hovering above the doorknob, Natasha looked back. "Yes?"

Katya wanted to tell her that she looked beautiful. That her hair was amazing, that her makeup was flawless, that the dress fit her perfectly. That she was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. But the moment she opened her mouth, she chickened out. "Have fun."

A bright smile curled on her dark red lips. "Thanks."

[so-very-small]

we should acknowledge the parasocial relationship we have with g/t oc’s seen in the tags on the regular. like it’s not just ‘omg cool art!’ anymore but also ‘omg its my beloved giant friend Holly’. i see Kip and Henry and wave like they’re neighbors i see when out checking the mail. Jason and Natasha are like family friends who’s posts i like on instagram. Chrome and Poppy? they are more famous than Beyonce to me. i love everyones OCs and i love seeing them so much

[art-banhana]

While working on this I was reminded of all the reasons I used to hate working with watercolors... I think I did salvage it pretty well in the end!

Natasha and Sero having a date night~

[keetydraws]

Gay Laundry ❤️

[vampfucker666]

have not drawn in five million years. star trek teeth and natasha i guess. do NOT ask me how teeth managed to get on a fucking starship i dont think she knows either 😭