Nat X You - Blog Posts

i read your dog tags fic and i have always thought the whole dog tags thing is hot but you think you could do one w natasha? an au where she was a soldier or wte and just a different plot or something idc i just think it’d be so hot for natasha

i don't really know about soldier type stuff so i did it as though she got the dog tags from working at shield - hope that's okay anyway :)

original dog tags fic with carol danvers is here

quiet

natasha romanoff x reader

warnings - smut; daddy kink, thigh riding, necklace as a gag, top!natasha, kinda sex in a public place, i think that's it

word count - 1149

The mission today had been emotionally exhausting for you considering your history with Hydra, having to go back to the base you’d been imprisoned in until just a few years ago. It had gone well though, nobody was injured, you just felt a little down.

You sighed as you slumped into the seat beside Natasha, instantly seeking comfort by resting your head on her shoulder, she kissed your head as you nuzzled into her neck readying for the long flight back.

“You okay, princess?” She murmured against you, feeling the shrug you gave her in response, trailing her fingers over your back down to your hip. “Want me to make you feel better?”

You hummed against her neck pressing a kiss to the skin beneath her ear, “Please daddy, make me feel good.” You mumbled beside her ear with a pout, she choked back a groan at the back of her throat at the words, digging her fingers into your hip to pull you up with her.

Neither of you paid any mind to the others, not caring of any funny looks you may have been receiving as she pulled you towards a secluded area of the quinjet out of sight; she pushed your back against a wall peppering kisses over your face, melding her lips with yours eagerly.

She held you by your waist as she kissed along your jaw, grazing her teeth over your skin as you held her close to your body, desperately clinging to her as though she could float away. Your needy hands wandered, fiddling with the zip of her tactical suit and tugging it down letting your hands brush over the soft skin of her chest, the glistening silver metal of her dog tags she’s worn since she joined Shield dangling against her, resting in the valley of her breasts.

She held the back of your head when you kissed across the skin, sucking at the flesh of her breasts that spilled out of the top of her bra, letting you revel in the taste of her skin - wanting anything to help you feel better. She yanked you back by your hair with a hiss at an overly eager bite to her skin, a dark mark no doubt being left behind.

You pouted to her innocently with your lips swollen red, mischievous smirk tugging at your mouth when she looked at you with a glare, eyes darkened and lustful. She pulled the zip of your suit, yanking the material down your body exposing your bra clad torso, closing the space between you with her lips attacking your neck. She slipped her hand beneath your bra, roughly pinching your nipple between her thumb and finger with a twist only tugging on it more at the sound of a whimper falling from your lips.

“So pretty baby, falling apart under my touch like this already. You’re desperate, hm?” She rasped, her lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

“Mhm, just wanna feel good. Make me forget, daddy - please.” You pleaded, goosebumps raising over your skin when she scratched her nails down your body pushing your suit further past your hips.

“Focus on me, princess. By the end of the night you’ll know nothing but my name.”

Your hips bucked up into hers involuntarily at the way she growled out her words before crashing her lips to yours, frenzied and eager kisses as she danced her fingers beneath the hem of your underwear, teasingly stroking over your clit.

“I need you, Natty, please.” You whined out in frustration, feeling her smirk against your chest as she slid her fingers through your wet slit, plunging two fingers into you without a warning. You gasped out at the contact, her digits immediately curling inside you, brushing against your g-spot and the heel of her palm perfectly positioned over your clit.

You put all of your focus into trying to be quiet, trying to be consumed only by the way Natasha pumped her fingers into you with a sublime rhythm and her lips kissed over your neck but the added pang of arousal from the grunt she let out beside your ear made it impossible to swallow the moan at the back of your throat. She’d positioned herself over your thigh, grinding on your leg in a way that had her suit rubbing against her clit magnificently.

She stilled all movement to look at you with green eyes glazed over with arousal, “Quiet, baby - can’t have the others hearing all your pretty sounds.” She murmured, bringing the pendant of her dog tags to your lips. “Open.” She instructed, shoving the metal past your lips watching as you latched your lips around it with a suck. “Good girl, baby, stay quiet for daddy.”

The metal was cold against your tongue, clicking under your teeth as you bit into it to quell the feeble whimpers begging to tumble past your lips. Your nails dug into her shoulder blades as her fingers pulled you closer and closer to your climax and your face grew hot at the way you could hear her fingers pushing into you; she could feel how wet you were, how close you were, slowing her movements agonisingly.

“Hold it, baby, wanna cum with you.” She breathed, her hips moving rapidly in stuttered pushes along your thigh, her breath growing heavier by the minute.

When she could feel her orgasm fast approaching she quickened her pushes into you, your hips bucked forward to match her rhythm, chasing your release by grinding your aching clit against her palm. Natasha muffled her loud moan as she came with a harsh bite into the flesh of your shoulder, harsh enough to draw blood in tooth mark grooves, low whimpers at the back of her throat as she tried to catch her breath.

“That’s it, princess.” She cooed as she felt a gush of wetness over her fingers, your hips still moving lazily against her as the overwhelming pleasure brought tears to your eyes; biting down hard onto the pendant in your mouth with a pull that dug the chain into the back of her neck. “So good, so good for me angel.” She praised, planting kisses over your warm cheeks, holding your limp body up as your chest rose and fell in a chase for oxygen.

She pulled the necklace from your mouth gently, a string of saliva following it and coating your swollen lips, brushing stray hairs out of your face. She held your waist as she pulled her fingers from you, pleased at how they glistened in the light, humming in delight as she sucked your cum from them, looking forward to tasting you properly later.

“Thank you.” You mumbled out meekly, returning the smile Natasha gave you easily.

“My pleasure, baby.” She smirked. “I was only getting started. I’m gonna fuck every thought out of that pretty head.”

Y/N: You are pretty cute when you are nice

Natasha: what am I when I’m not nice

Y/N: hot as fuck

Natasha:*smirks and blushes*

Angsty fic w nat? When we were young by adele is the plot tho 😏

when we were young

a/n: this is the first time i've written angst with no happy ending so enjoy😭

warnings: angst (no happy ending)

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

summary: after a year of be ignored and shut out, the reader decides its time to leave nat, no matter how much it hurts

translations: detka=baby

words: 1.2k | natasha x reader masterlist | navigation post

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated and welcomed <3

You woke up to an empty bed, again. You weren’t surprised, you had woken up to an empty bed every day for the past year. Nat was too busy working, hoping, searching for a solution, a way to bring everybody back. After the blip occurred, Nat turned cold, towards everyone. The redhead stays at her desk day and night, she barely paid you any attention. You had told her time and time again that she couldn't fix every problem on the face of the Earth. She refused to listen.

It hurt seeing Nat turn into a shell of her former self and you often found yourself reminiscing on old memories. You two used to go on adventures, you wanted to show her all your favorite places. You took her to amusement parks, beaches, and to your favorite parks. You used to have movie nights at least once a week, you showed her all your favorites and she showed you hers.

You missed her. You missed her raspy morning voice saying she loved you, how she would gently rub circles on your back when you were feeling overwhelmed, how she would throw her head back laughing at all your jokes.

But that Natasha was long gone. That Natasha was replaced by one who never said more than three words to you, one who never leaves the compound, one that no longer laughed at anything.

“Natasha,” you said more sternly than usual. The redhead didn’t even acknowledge you, she just kept typing. “Natasha!” You yelled this time. The redhead looked up at you with zero expression in her eyes. “You know it’s not your fault right? The blip. It’s not your fault.” You said for the millionth time this year. The redhead just sighed and went back to typing on her computer.

For the past year, you had been giving her space, reassurance, anything she could possibly need. But she just didn’t seem to care. You loved her so much, more than anything or anyone, but staying here with her was destroying you.

With tears in your eyes, you stormed out of the room and retreated back into your bedroom, you didn’t think you could even call it you and Nat’s bedroom anymore.

You looked around the room, the one filled with pictures. Ones from all your adventures. Ones from when you two were both younger when the world wasn’t in chaos.

You missed the simple days, the ones before aliens invaded New York. The ones before killer robots made a city fly. You missed just being able to hang out with Nat when you two could do what you wanted when you wanted to.

When you were younger things were easier, but now, nothing was easy.

-

Months passed and nothing changed. Nat just sat and stared at her computer, getting more and more distant every day. You were lucky if she spoke to you once a week nowadays. You yearned for her, all you wanted was to feel her touch again or to hear her beautiful voice.

You knew the good days were over. You knew Nat would never move on from this, not unless she miraculously found a way to reverse the blip.

You wished you could live in the photos in your bedroom. The photos of you and Nat laughing so hard that you could barely breathe. The ones where you two-starred lovingly into each others eyes. But you couldn’t, as much as you wished you could, you couldn’t live in photographs.

For months now you had entertained the thought of leaving the compound, of leaving Natasha. Every time you thought about it, the guilt of leaving Nat ate you alive. You couldn’t leave her, not when she was like this.

But you also couldn’t stay, not anymore. Staying was killing you. Loving her when she showed no sign that she loved you was destroying you. So as much as it hurt, you knew you had to leave.

You packed your things from around the compound without Nat even noticing. She was too busy working to notice you were taking all your things. You could have just walked out the front door without her noticing if you wanted to. But you thought you at least owed her a goodbye and you hoped she would give you some closure.

“Natasha,” you said in an attempt to grab her attention. She didn’t even look up, “Natasha I’m leaving.” No response. “Natasha I’m leaving and I’m not coming back this time.” The redhead immediately looked up at you, “What?”

“I can’t sit here and be a ghost in my own house anymore Natasha.” The redhead stared at you puzzled, “I don’t-”

“You have been ignoring my existence for over a year now! You don’t talk to me, you don’t come to bed, you don’t ever leave that damn computer!” You yelled, trying to hold back tears, you couldn’t let her see you cry, not now. “Y/N I’m sorry I just-”

“Look I know you have a lot going on right now and I know you have a lot on your plate, but you don’t make time for me anymore and it’s exhausting loving someone who clearly doesn’t care about you,” the tears started flowing down your face, over a year of emotions exploding out.

“I do love you, I love you so much, Y/N you hold me together,” Natasha said as tears formed in her eyes. “See, saying that you love me and showing me you love me are two different things.”

Natasha let out a sob, she didn’t want to be left alone. “Please don’t go, I’ll be better, I promise.”

“I can’t stay anymore, I want to believe you, but I’m tired Nat,” you said through your sobs. You advanced toward the door and for the first time in a long long while Natasha got up from her desk and ran toward you. The redhead hugged you from behind, “I can’t do this without you.”

“Natasha, please,” you cried as you melted into her touch. God, you missed her hugs. “I miss the way things were when we were younger, what happened to the adventures, the laughs, the spontaneous dates,” you spilled out, her hugs always made you open up.

“I miss that too,” Nat sobbed out, almost collapsing to the floor.

The two of you stood in silence, Natasha still gripping onto you tightly. You both stood and appreciated what was what you both knew was the last time you would ever touch one another.

“Nat I need to go,” you said in a barely audible whisper. “I know,” Nat said, equally as quiet. The redhead slowly released her grip on you.

You opened the door and took a deep breath, “Goodbye Natasha.” You closed the door before you could hear her say anything in response. Immediately, you fell to the ground sobbing, Natasha was your soulmate, your other half. Leaving her hurt you more than any wound you have ever had.

You thought one day you two would get married, settle down, get some of the life Steve was always telling you to get. But that wasn’t you and Nat’s story, not in this lifetime at least.

Maybe in another lifetime Nat.

Missing in Action

Natasha x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 700

Notes: Last drabble of the night in the NEB universe.

You’re not sure what has you more stressed the crying baby in front of you or the fact that your wife is not home yet. You’ve called Natasha twice now to see when she’d be home from her mission and she hasn’t picked up either time. You should be used to it by now. You know how it goes. She’s home when she can be. She’s stopped taking longer missions after you had Ryan but this was a pressing matter. An alien attack of some sort. She’s in another country - last you heard Norway. She told you on her last phone call a week ago. She talked your ear off about how much you should visit and how much she misses you. She promised she wouldn’t miss Ryan’s first Christmas for the world. She wants to be there when he opens his presents. She wants to see the snow with you. Just like she does every year.

She promises to be home until she can’t be. It’s the procedure. She’s gone ghost as you like to call it. No calls, no texts, and certainly no emails. It’s a part of her job. It’s important to her. Sometimes you think more important than you.

No. You shake your head free of those intrusive thoughts. They’re frequent these days. The negative thoughts. Sometimes your mind plays tricks on you. Telling you you’re not worthy of Natasha’s love. You’re not worthy of anyone’s love. Some days you can’t get out of bed only opting to feed Ryan and play with him for as long as you can stand it. You feel like you’re drowning and the only person to talk to is unreachable. The only person that can drive away those dark thoughts and insecurities isn’t here. It hurts, even more, to think about.

Ryan is crying again for what seems like the fifth hour in a row. He just won’t stop. He’s teething. You know he’s in pain but nothing you do works. Not cold compresses, not Orajel on his gums, none of the remedies you read online. It seems the only thing that even remotely calms him is being in your arms and you can’t get anything done with him screaming in your ear. It’s a frustrating feeling as a first-time mom. He’s sitting across from you, clean, dry, seemingly tired but unwilling to fall asleep. You sit looking at him with your phone in one hand and a teething ring in the other. Your back is pressed against the couch, your knees are drawn to your chest, as you simply watch him. His face is angry and red. He wants your comfort but you can’t give it to him.

For a moment, you zone out. Life before marriage, before the baby, before everything was simpler. There was no one depending on you. There wasn’t that feeling of emptiness deep inside you. Natasha didn’t believe you when you told her. She told you sometimes these things take time. When would that be? You didn’t feel a connection to the baby boy sitting there. You didn’t feel that instant love like she did. You never wanted to admit it but sometimes you wondered how you did it. You’re supposed to love him. You do love him. Why didn’t it feel the same? Every time you looked at him you felt that resentment boil inside of you. Babies were supposed to be happy things. You had been so thrilled to find out you were pregnant. Why didn’t any of this feel right?

Postpartum depression. You’ve researched it well enough to think you have the symptoms but you can’t right now. Thinking about it makes it real and you don’t want it to be real. It’s a sign of weakness and you won’t show it. Now when all he has right now is you. Your feelings didn’t matter. You crawl the few feet across the floor to place Ryan on your lap. He rubs his face across your shirt as he sobs even louder. He’s in pain and you can’t even do anything to make it better.

You wish Natasha were here. She always knows what to do. She knows how to make him feel better. She is a better mother than you could ever be and you both know it.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck with me,” You whisper to the top of his head as you finally let the tears you’ve been holding fall.

I need more mediocre gfs please!! Maybe like Reader getting hurt in an attack like I’m curious how she would act

sure but i didnt rly do that bc nothing serious ever happens in the mediocre gfs verse<3 welcome to the circus babies<3

Your relationship isn't public in the sense that neither of you thinks it's particularly wise to advertise to Nat's long, long list of enemies that she fostered any sort of positive emotion towards any specific member of the general public. It isn't particularly wise to advertise that Nat experiences any emotions, really, since unpredictability is the name of the game. But it's okay if people know she, perhaps, might like her coworkers because her coworkers could kill someone accidentally by, like, breathing too hard or something. You, on the other hand, are entirely normal. Maybe not well-adjusted, mentally at least, but you're not an alien with super strength, nor are you a mutated superhero borne from unethical scientific experimentation. Just normal human you.

Her friends and family know, obviously, since Nat is as unrepentant and shameless as they come. She likes to flex the fact that she's not emotionally stunted enough to not be able to bag a girl, basically. You're glad, at least, that you don't have to stop yourself from throwing yourself at Nat during house parties.

Nat also likes to lounge on an armchair with you perched on her lap, looking like the cat that got the cream; she said, one time, that it makes her feel like she has a huge cock. You had rolled your eyes at that, arms looped around her neck, and assured her that her cock was, indeed, quite large. She had smirked and kissed your neck and said in that insufferable tone: "I know." And Clint, who had been sitting on a nearby couch, had made a noise of revulsion and disappeared into the kitchen so he didn't have to hear Nat and you being so annoying. The two of you were a joy, to say the least, at Avengers dinner parties.

So, it comes as a surprise to both you and Nat--and your superhero friends when they hear about it afterwards--when you're shoved into a crummy alley by gunpoint because no one is supposed to know about your relationship to her outside of your inner circles. It's also a surprise because, you know, there's a gun pointed at you by a really menacing looking dude.

You're supposed to be safe. Everyone made sure to keep your relationship under wraps. How did they find you?

He's shouting at you, but you're too panicked, fumbling with your bag and backing into the wall, to really process what he's saying. Nat, who had been on a call with you, is also yelling at you in alarm through the AirPods Pro she had gotten you as a gift. You don't know what the fuck is happening. Maybe you shouldn't walk around the city with the noise-cancelling function on.

Suddenly, she goes quiet, and you glance at your phone, seeing the call has been dropped, and so too, then, does your stomach. A heavy feeling of dread sinks into you, and you find yourself shaking.

The barrel of the gun waves closer to your face, and you let out an undignified squeak, and then the man is wrenching your phone away with a curse when he realizes you had been on a call. Now, you are paying lots of attention to the man with the gun.

He is a mugger. You are being mugged.

"Oh, thank god," you let out in a rush, basically hurling your AirPods case at him. "Here. I-I'll get my wallet, too. It's- It's in my bag."

He is taken aback by your change in attitude, clutching the case like his life depends on it. "What- Hey, lady. What the fuck?"

You nod rapidly. "Yeah. Yeah, don't worry about me. Well, you can. I mean, don't shoot me. I have to get my wallet, okay?"

"...Okay?" The gun lowers. Dark eyes blink at you through his ski mask in utter bewilderment. "I mean-" He draws the gun back up with a scowl. "Just give me the bag."

You frown now, too. You had bought Nat a sandwich. It's in there. "But..."

"Give me the fucking bag!"

"Right! Yeah! Jesus, okay," you yell out, shoving the bag towards him and flinching away when the gun once again comes too close to comfort. "I just want you to know that my girlfriend's going to be so mad at you."

He ignores you. Why would he reply, after all? He's a mugger. You're his victim blathering on about your girlfriend. Your totally regular girlfriend.

Your girlfriend, whom you have yet to spot swinging off the roof and onto the fire escape above. Until, that is, her boots hit it with a loud clang, and both of you jerk up to look.

Then, it's over for him because Nat comes down swinging with a furious look on her face, utterly silent aside from her grunts when she lands on him and throws him upside down into the dumpster. A gunshot rings out, hitting the wall far enough away from you that you don't immediately piss yourself, but it's still a gunshot, so you still jump away with a screech.

You fall into the wall, dropping your bag, and scramble on your ass towards the main street. By the time you've gotten your bearings, Nat's straddled the mugger, gun kicked far into the alley and is midway through her third punch into the guy's face.

"Nat," you gasp out, pulse racing, throbbing, really, in your temple, "Nat!"

Your cries fall on deaf ears. She's still giving this guy hell, questioning him in a tone so cold you're glad you never have to face her for real. She seems to be under the impression that he's a neo-Nazi terrorist or something.

Quickly, you crawl over, scuffing your knees on the sidewalk, and place a hand on her back. She stills, still glowering down at the crumpled mugger beneath her. But then you put your other hand on her back, and you slide them onto her shoulders, and you cling on with a shuddering sigh.

She feels safe. She feels warm and solid and real. It hadn't felt real these past few minutes, you realize belatedly, and you cling on tighter. Suddenly, there are tears in your eyes. You feel a bit stupid for them since this is something that happens every day in the city, and Nat's faced worse, and here you are, about to sob your eyes out.

In relief, though. Relief. Sweet relief in the arms of your equally shaken up girlfriend.

She plants a hand on the guy's head, forcing his nose into the cement, and slips her free arm around your hiccupping shoulders.

"It's okay," she murmurs into your hair, a strangled note to her voice. "I'm here. It's okay."

"He-He was just mugging me," you manage, stilted, and so very much in love with Nat. Acutely aware of your love for her when you feel her relax and then stiffen up and then relax again once she's registered what you said. You keep blubbering on: "You crossed four blocks in as many minutes because I was getting mugged."

"Well." She sniffs, pressing him harder into the ground and disregarding his pained moan. "Yes."

"I love you," you say around a ragged breath. Your tears are subsiding.

Nat stiffly pats your back and glances down at him. "Yes."

"You should probably call off whatever national security agency you contacted," you say after a moment.

Both of you pay the mugger's squawk no mind. Nat just nods and says, again, "Yes." She releases you to pull her phone out of her pocket, face entirely unreadable, as she does as told. "You should also apologize to Carol."

"Me?" You make a face. Shuffle closer on your knees. "Why?"

"She, uh," Nat starts, then stops with a grimace. Rolls her eyes. "There's a war happening. Like, a few galaxies away."

"Galaxies," you repeat.

"Yeah. She's probably halfway here already."

"Galaxies."

"Yeah, baby," she says into her phone as she taps away. "She says that she's glad that you're all right, but you owe her a round of drinks."

You yank her arms closer to you--or, rather, she lets you pull her phone to your face. "She says you owe her drinks."

"We owe her drinks; that's what I said," Nat says. Finally, you see the wobble of her lips. Up and down, and up again. "You... You're okay?"

You smile softly, wiping the dampness from your cheeks. "Yeah. What about you, honey?"

Nat just nods. Then, she looks down at the guy under her and gets up with an out of place grace. He instantly tries to get up and run, but Nat just steps on his back, and he goes down again.

You pry your AirPods case out of his grip and get to your feet to pick up your bag. You put your stuff back in and shuffle back to Nat, who's palming her forehead and staring at the sky.

You curl your fingers around her tense forearm, rubbing a thumb into her skin until she turns to look at you.

"I love you," you repeat.

Nat lets her lips slant upward, and she cups your cheek. "Me too. About you."

You lean into her, nosing at her shoulder with a sigh. "How did you even get here?"

Nat lets out a breathy laugh. "Breaking and entering, and parkour on top of rooftops."

"Thank you," you say after a beat.

She shakes her head, hand pressing harder into your face. "Don't thank me."

"This is, like, cute and romantic, but I think you broke my ribs and my nose," says the mugger who has since dragged himself up to sprawl against the dumpster.

"Shut up," Nat snaps. "You should be glad I didn't break more."

He huffs and crosses his arms.

You wrap your arms around Nat's waist, smiling widely into her jacket. Nat can tell, of course, because she always knows. She tangles her hands in your hair, cradling you close to her chest, as fond of you as you are of her.

"Oh," you remember suddenly, "I got you a sandwich."

The cops find the three of you like this: Nat munching on a club sandwich with you draped over her side and the mugger looking awfully put out opposite you guys.

That night, and in the days following, Nat refuses to let you leave her sight. Very awkward to wash your hands in front of the bathroom line that had all seen a stoic Nat barge her way into your stall. You wouldn't change a single thing about it.