Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: Day 11: I've merged a lovely request from a lovely anon with the @taylorswiftmicrofic prompt for the 11th of January, which is 'prom'.
Fluff and gentle smut contained below.
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You were in bed. The darkness had crept into the room slowly, just like the silence. You turned on a light but it wasn’t enough for that kind of darkness.
You thought about her. You tried not to worry.
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‘I know, I know.’ Natasha called out as soon as she entered the room. Your mouth dropped as you stared in shock at her appearance. Blood stains coated her face and suit. You could barely see her skin beneath. Natasha stood at the foot of the bed with a nonplussed expression on her face.
‘I feel like Carrie at the prom.’ She yawned as she unzipped her blood-soaked suit to her waist, revealing her toned stomach and sports bra.
Natasha reached up to her hair then, ready to undo the end of her usual braid. She groaned as she remembered her more intricate hairstyle made up of several smaller braids.
‘Here, love.’ You slipped off the bed and walked to her. ‘Let me help.’
Natasha tilted forward, her head pressing tiredly against your shoulder as you worked to undo each braid. You tried not to hesitate as you worked around the hair matted with even more blood.
When you were done, you resisted the instinct to kiss her.
‘This might be your most disgusting post-mission look.’ You said wrinkling your nose at the pervasive smell of the dried blood.
Natasha gave you a sarcastic thumbs up as she headed to the ensuite bathroom.
‘Guess you won’t be joining me.’ She commented dryly as the shower began to run.
‘It’s so hard to say no.’ You grinned, grabbing your phone and keys and heading out of the room. ‘I’ll bring you back sustenance.’ You promised as you left.
You returned soon enough, a peanut butter jelly sandwich in one hand. You’d cut the crusts off. Natasha didn’t actually care about the crusts. That wasn’t why you did it.
You knocked the door as you entered. Natasha was lying on her stomach, sprawled out on the bed, wrapped in a fluffy white robe that she’d stolen a million years ago from a fancy hotel. It was tied loosely, already half off one shoulder. You could tell she was naked underneath. Her long red hair was damp, combed through and already curling at the ends.
She turned at the sound of the door. Her attention immediately fell to the plate in your hands.
She made a happy noise, muffled by her pillow as she rolled over onto her back. She shuffled to a seated position in the bed.
‘Give.’ She demanded teasingly as you held out the plate.
Natasha noticed the missing crusts. Her delight was easy to see. She covered her face and gave a laugh.
‘I’m special.’ She teased.
‘Yep.’ You agreed simply and sat down next to her, your arm automatically snaking around her waist.
Natasha leaned against you like you were her support pole. She chewed slowly on the sandwich, her eyes closed with the first bite and she nodded happily to herself.
‘Good?’ You checked teasingly.
Wordlessly, she gave you another thumbs up.
When the sandwich was done, Natasha fell backwards onto the bed. With great effort she moved back to her starfish position across the centre of it.
You felt yourself finally approaching the moment. The time for acknowledge what she was obviously avoiding.
The energy had been too light since she got back. It had been a bad mission.
‘I’m so tired.’ Natasha mumbled finally against her pillow.
You crawled over to lie beside her. You brushed her damp hair away from her face.
‘What kind of tired?’ You prompted gently. Natasha’s eyes screwed tight against your gaze.
‘A lot of people died.’ She murmured at last. ‘I didn’t know what to do.’
She opened her eyes again and met you with a heavy stare. You recognised the swirling regret and thought inexplicably about ocean waves crashing over rocks.
‘I should’ve-’ Her voice cracked.
The rush of love was overwhelming and you leaned forward with the sudden, aching, urgent want to kiss her.
Natasha clung to your lips needily, her fingertips brushed your jaw.
Her lips were cracked and the sensation brought you back to yourself. You cupped her cheek gently as you slowly encouraged Natasha back to a sitting position.
‘You’re thirsty.’ You hummed out as Natasha’s lips continued to brush yours over and over again.
Natasha’s eyes briefly squeezed shut again and then she nodded.
You left the bed to retrieve her water bottle on the other side of the room. Natasha unscrewed the top and wordlessly drank it all.
Your stomach twisted as you watched her.
It could be a symptom, sometimes, of the bad missions. Not giving herself what she needed. Punishing herself for things that weren’t her fault.
Natasha put the empty water bottle back on the nightstand. She turned back to you with the same hidden sadness in her eyes. Still, she gave you a small smile.
You reached forward again with a surge of the same want. You left a trail of the softest kisses along on her neck. You could smell the familiar mix of her body wash and that scent that was only Natasha.
Natasha hummed with pleasure. You felt her body rise and fall as her breathing evened out into slow, deep breaths. You tugged the white robe gently away from her shoulder, and then again, until you’d removed it all the way.
Natasha acquiesced readily to the direction of your touch. There was a relief almost in the way she was naked next to you. As if the pretence could leave her.
She arched her back dramatically and you watched the muscles move and stretch. Then, she returned her body easily to its most comfortable bad posture.
Natasha looked at you again and, this time, her gaze was easier and her smile was warm.
A longing caught itself in your throat.
Hesitantly, you touched the old scar that sat between her shoulders. Evidence of another mission survived, another risk taken.
You pressed a little harder and Natasha moaned in response to the pressure on the fatigued muscle just beneath the skin.
You adjusted yourself back on the bed, propping yourself up on your knees. You kissed the base of her neck as your thumbs began to rub concentric circles over her shoulder blades.
Natasha murmured your name. Her back arched again in pleasure.
‘You are brave.’ You told her, consumed with the constant need to take away her pain.
You kissed her again, trailing a path down the curve of her spine.
‘You are strong.’ You murmured, your mouth grazing past another nameless scar.
You felt the rise and fall of Natasha’s chest against your lips. The steady proof of her existence; all you could hope for.
‘You are trying your best.’
Your thumbs brushed lightly over the large, fresh bruise that sat under Natasha’s ribcage. Natasha stiffened.
You ran your hands soothingly back up to her shoulders and then around to cup her soft breasts.
‘And, you are always, always forgiven.’
You felt Natasha’s limbs loosen unthinkingly with your words and then, slowly, you felt her muscles tighten again with a different want.
Natasha murmured your name again. And then again. You listened to the longing soaked into her voice.
You squeezed her breasts slowly before moving around to stand in the space in front of her seated position on the bed.
You reached over and took a pillow from the bed. You held it to the back of Natasha’s head and gave her a teasing smile as you pressed her gently in encouragement to lie back.
Natasha’s fingers caught the front of your shirt automatically as she let her torso go flat against the mattress.
Her feet were still touching the ground. You watched her hip bones cant upwards towards the air in this new position.
You lost yourself briefly in the act of just looking down at her. At the softness and sharpness that made Natasha's body the only one that you craved.
Natasha’s eyes were half-shuttered as she watched you too. Her smile was easy but you caught the swirling of a thousand emotions that sat beneath her stare.
It was enough for you to drop to your knees.
You spread her legs slowly and slid between them. The steady warmth of her was your favourite heat.
Another anchor that promised you she was here.
You stretched out your arms, letting your fingernails brush back and forth along her toned stomach. You didn’t waste any more time.
Slowly you ran your flat tongue along her pussy. There was the familiar tang of her body wash and the taste that could only be Natasha.
Natasha groaned above you. You felt her stomach muscles tighten under your fingers and knew that she was already close.
You moved on instinct, your eyes closed as you lost yourself in the sounds of her hums and sighs. The heat of her against your tongue spread through you. You let your tongue arc and flatten, finding the rhythms that caused her breathless moans.
You felt her tensing. Felt the pleasure inside her become a desperate need. You used your hands to keep a steady pressure against the urgent movement of her hips.
Natasha gave a strangled cry and in the midst of it you heard your name. You pressed again and again with your tongue. You felt her body wind itself tighter and tighter and then undo itself all at once.
You tasted the dripping want and heard the soft pants of something achieved.
You gave one last lick along her pussy.
‘Good?’ You murmured, as you moved back to survey Natasha.
Natasha didn’t move or speak. Slowly, as if with great effort, she gave you a silent thumbs up.
You breathed a laugh, kissed her one more time and got to your feet.
You headed to the bathroom, grabbing a flannel and running it under the warm water. You returned and gently washed between her legs.
Natasha’s eyes were fully shut now.
You leaned forward and Natasha moaned in automatic pleasure at the sudden heat of your body against her bare one.
‘Bed, love.’ You whispered, pulling the covers back and coaxing her gently.
Natasha acquiesced and you watched her crawl beneath the warm covers.
You left and got yourself ready for bed too.
Just as you were about to slide under the covers, you heard the first snuffling noises of Natasha pressing herself comfortably into her pillow.
A moment later, you clicked off the light on your nightstand.
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You turned to face her. Natasha’s face was framed by her own messy curls. You thought about her. About the sadness that you could always see unless her eyes were closed. You tried not to worry.
Natasha snored suddenly and the sound was another steady proof that she was here. You closed your eyes and finally slept.
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Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3
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I just has a nightmare where I and f-ing Natasha romanov where in a Hydra base but it was actually my house and we broke into the basement which was a big round room with a shaft as big as the door from coraline. Anyway a hydra with only one head (well get back to that) came out ,we ran through the door,it apparently was connected with a ever bigger round room (we are in the middle) and there's blood, a door is on one side and a platform above a scientist sees us and starts her monolog before calling a hydra with two heads ,we of course think oh fuck but then she says something like "hahaha if you think that's bad you won't enjoy the next part " and from the middle the first one headed Hydra comes before fusing with the other .We run through the door and it looks like a medieval European castle, then we split she distracted the hydra by running away and into a bathroom where she cuts herself and leaves blood to get it to smell her ig ,after that she does the same on walls and all on her way out .It apparently worked as I was not followed, I also spreed some of my blood on our walls ( in my granny's living room she would actually kill me if that happened in real life ) and ran into the garden but the scientist followed me and called the hydra befor asking me if I knew I came from a line of witches that existed since 1200 I said yes ,she the told me that the hydra was trained to kill me ,this is because on the 14th birthday these witches got beheaded and there blood was gathered to train the hydra and make it easy to assainate a person by bringing them into contact with the blood by order of the royals. She then asked how old I am now and I said 26 idk and she just pointed out that the shaking ground is the hydra braking through soon and left .Natasha then came running to me and I now in my car opened the door for her but she pointed behind and I realized the gate wasn't open, I threw her the car keys and ran to open the gate she drove out I got in and we drove away holding hands . The hydra still has my blood trace though... .. and I woke up .Now I'm scared of our basement great :(