how not to write natasha

great comet songs ft. alternate titles
  • prologue: okay we get it andrey isn't here
  • pierre: sad old man rethinks his life choices
  • moscow: have fun attempting to pronounce all the russian last names
  • the private and intimate life of the house: andrey's family is definitely totally messed up
  • natasha & bolkonskys: andrey's family really doesn't like natasha
  • no one else: natasha is feeling Emotions
  • the opera: the song where things begin their slow decline
  • natasha & anatole: natasha is Frightened
  • natasha lost: natasha is still Frightened
  • the duel: sad old man shoots a man
  • sunday morning: andrey still isn't here
  • charming: loudly and proudly mispronouncing "charmante"
  • the ball: the slow decline is now a pretty steady decline
  • letters: lonely old man is lonely, frightened young girl is frightened, anatole doesn't know how to write his own love letters
  • sonya & natasha: explain the letters natasha
  • sonya alone: sonya is trying Her Best and that's what counts
  • preparations: maybe anatole should have listened to pierre and dolokhov
  • balaga: the famous troika driver has arrived bitches
  • the abduction: a scoundrel? in MY house? it's more likely than you think
  • in my house: congratulations, you played yourself
  • a call to pierre: "anatole tried to elope with natasha" "whAT THE FU-"
  • find anatole: find that motherfucker and fight him
  • pierre & anatole: congratulations, you played yourself (reprise)
  • natasha very ill: poisoning yourself due to extreme guilt is a Bad Idea
  • pierre & andrey: holy shit look it's the song where andrey finally isn't not here
  • pierre & natasha: confessing one's love for someone solely because the aforementioned someone is ill and sad ??
  • the great comet of 1812: *looks at comet* #same #relatable #about me

I saw this post and had feelings.


“What’re you doin’?” Bucky asked as Natasha stopped to take a picture of a giant tree, leaves orange-going-on-red. He would have bitched at her for blowing their cover but it actually helped with their tourist personas.

Natasha glanced at him, unimpressed, then turned back to line up the perfect shot. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

“I’m not pretending. I don’t know.”

“That’s sad,” Natasha said, pulling her phone back to her chest to tap on the screen with her thumbs. “You make me sad.”

Bucky took a moment to be jealous at how fast she could type. His metal thumb didn’t register on his screen. “That’s not new.”

“I’m going to show you the greatest thing you will ever see,” Natasha informed him, then thrust her phone in his face.

He frowned, confused, when he saw the picture of the tree again. It was a nice picture, he supposed. He’d seen better. Underneath it was the text ‘look at this tree.’ The confusion didn’t leave. He jumped a little when her phone vibrated in her hand.

✨Tony✨: It’s beautiful, just like you! I’m going into a meeting so I won’t be able to answer very quickly but don’t let that stop you!

Bucky stared at it for a moment. “…Why does he get sparkle emoji and I get grinning shit?”

“Because I think you’re a piece of shit.” Natasha pulled her phone back to read the message and smiled slightly. “One time I was pissed off and told him I wanted to kill someone and he texted me back that if I was in prison, he couldn’t take me out for delicate patisseries anymore.” She stared into the distance. “The idea of going without fig tartlets frightened me.”

“America has changed you and I’m not sure I like it,” Bucky declared even as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders to throw off a couple of agents that were peering at them suspiciously. “What’s a tartlet?”

“I’m going to buy a dozen and eat them all in front of you without offering you a single bite,” Natasha replied, holding her phone up. “Couples still take selfies, right?”

Bucky stared at the phone impassively. “What’s with people and selfies?”

“You’re a stick in the mud. At least Steve was a good kisser,” Natasha complained, texting the picture to Tony as the brunet sputtered in disbelief and confusion.

✨Tony✨: Tell Buck-o to turn that frown upside down! You’re both young and beautiful in London! What is there to frown about? c:

“Precious,” Natasha said fondly.


“Did you know that Tony’s contact has sparkle emoji on Natasha’s phone?” Bucky asked.

Steve looked up, hurt. “Why am I smiling poop?”

“Because I think you’re a piece of shit too,” Natasha said, snapping a picture of him. “You’re both shitty. I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because we’re adorable,” Bucky drawled before throwing himself across Steve’s lap. “Don’t worry, Steve. I’m smiling shit, too.”

…That did make him feel better.

“Clint’s just a row of emoji consisting of pizza, arrows, and a dog face,” Natasha added.

Steve whined. “I wanna be pizza and a dog face!”

“No,” she said, and took a picture of the blond in Snapchat so she could give him a halo of grinning shits.


Just for shits and giggles, Bucky texted Tony ‘listen, some days you have a lemon and some days you are the lemon.’ Tony didn’t get back to him immediately, but he hadn’t expected him to. He and Steve still preferred phone calls over texting, so everyone knew that if they were texting it probably wasn’t too important.

Tony: I think you’re peachy keen! :D

Bucky clutched his chest. “Shit.”

Steve sat up in alarm. “You okay, Buck?”

“Tony is so cute how can anyone take this man seriously.”

“What?” Steve blinked at him. “…Oh!” He smiled. “Natasha showed you her texts from Tony!”

Bucky stared down at his phone fondly. “Is he like this with everyone?”

“No, just Natasha, I think. You now, too, I guess. I think he does it for Bruce when he feels down, but JARVIS tells him when that is.”

“Oh.” Bucky smiled a little. “…That’s nice.”

Steve grinned at him. “He just likes to brighten the days of people he thinks need it.”


Steve found Bucky tucked in the closet, clutching a knife. “Bad dream?”

“There was blood everywhere,” Bucky whispered, knuckles going white. He let the blond take the knife from his hands and instead tucked them in his armpits, shivering. “All over. I can’t–Why, Steve?”

Steve sighed and crawled into the closet with him, pulling the door shut behind him. “I don’t know, Bucky.” He wrapped an arm around the brunet’s shoulders and pulled him up against his side. “You got your phone?”

“…I think so?” Bucky frowned, trying to recall. “…In my pocket, maybe.”

“Okay.” Steve reached down to fish the phone out of his pocket. “Would it help to send a message to Tony?”

Bucky buried his face in the blond’s shoulder. “He’s. He’s in. China? Japan? Asia. I think. He’ll be asleep.”

“Well, we can send him something,” Steve reasoned. “He can get back to us when he wakes up.”

Bucky reached up to grab his wrist. “Don’t–don’t tell him I’m like this. I don’t want him to worry.”

Steve sighed, unable to help a little smile. “What do you want me to say? That you want to run off and be a hermit in the mountains?”

“…Yeah,” Bucky said. It wasn’t technically a lie. Sometimes he did wanna run off to be a hermit in the mountains.

Steve jumped a little when he received a text almost immediately. “Oh!”

Tony: Can I visit you there?

Bucky peered at the screen. “…No. Only cats allowed.”

“What about me?” Steve asked as he typed in his answer.

“You’re not a cat.”

Tony: I can’t think of anyone better to share a cave with! And I would know. I’ve spent time in a cave. 😜

“Aw,” Steve said, torn between adoring and sad. “Way to break my heart, Tony.”

“He’s broken worse parts,” Bucky said, even though both of them knew it was a lie.

Still waiting for the dating update in Avengers Academy, so I drew this silly comic. I will happily pay for same sex dating, especially Steve/Tony dates! >//<

Another entry for the prompt game with the sweet @tonystarkstoga. Inspired by one of @susieeslei’s Tony&Natasha headcanons. Enjoy!


He could not find the room Natasha had told him about. Bucky’s eyes narrowed. He might have shaken off Hydra’s fucked-up version of a recruitment speech but he hadn’t gone from the Winter Soldier to being unable to find his way in the Avengers’ Tower. With a map.

“JARVIS?” Bucky asked the invisible computerised voice–and boy had that taken time getting used to–suspiciously. ”Is Natasha messing with me?”

“I do not believe so, Mr. Barnes,” the AI answered politely.

Bucky’s suspicion intensified.

“Is Tony messing with me?” Really, it wasn’t even a question. Why had Natasha ever been his first guess?

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to share this information with you,” JARVIS responded faithfully–which was all the confirmation Bucky needed.

Walking down the corridor for the sixth time in slow, measured steps Bucky stopped at a spot of ordinary wall he was 80 per cent sure was supposed to be a door.

“Alright, JARVIS, the easy or the hard way?”

There was a slight pause before the AI replied with something scarily close to exasperation, “Sir does not wish to be disturbed for anything less than an Avengers’ call.” 

“The hard way it is,” Bucky confirmed with a nod to himself. Then, without further ado, he slammed his metal hand against the wall.

It was just as well that he hadn’t used his full strength, because the ‘wall’ gave in without any resistance at all, and Bucky found himself stumbling through it gracelessly with a startled squeak.

He regained his balance within a split second of course, but he knew, he knew the footage of this would haunt him for the rest of his life time. He was going to kill them.

“I’m gonna kill them.”

“It has been noted down in your calendar, Mr Barnes,” JARVIS helpfully commented–which meant he was being a cheeky bastard again. “For the twelfth time this week, if you care to know.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and continued along the narrow path, determined but wary. Tony, he had learned the hard way, had an unhealthy obsession with trip wires and other hidden tricks and traps. He really didn’t need to give the rest of the team any more blackmail material than they already had–not that they were faring any better than he was.

The whole insanity had started two weeks ago. Naturally an absent-minded remark by Tony had been responsible for it.

“Are you telling me-,” Clint had demanded, a disturbing look of utter glee lighting up his eyes, after he’d recovered from chocking on his beloved coffee, “That there is a room hidden in this Tower in which you teach Natasha how to pole dance and none of us new about it?”

Tony, hair still sleep-ruffled and covered in a sweatshirt that had been Bucky’s at one point but looked much better on him, had blinked owlishly at them. “What kind of spies are you?” he had asked incredulously. Which they had taken as the challenge it was obviously meant to be.

And thus the grand search for the training room had begun. Personally, what with the faint vibrations of loud music Bucky was beginning to pick up, he felt confident that he was on the right track.


Four days later: 

“Are you telling me you found Tony and Natasha’s secret pole dance training room and instead of letting the rest of us know you decided to join in?”

“Wasn’t that the point?”

“This isn’t an intentional bribe I just happened to be baking at 4am.” The voice startles Natasha who freezes on the sofa she’d just strewn herself gracelessly onto. Her eyes snap open and her body tenses. But there’s not eminent death, the voice is unknown but no one is attacking her so they can’t be here to hurt her. Lazily as if she wasn’t just startled she turns her head toward the kitchen stark had set up in their common area. The young woman standing there is holding a dripping whisk over cookie sheet and has flour smudged across her forehead. The likelihood of death shrinks even further in Natasha’s mind. She arches a brow. All her questions in one. The girl must belong here. She’ll know.

“I’m Darcy, I help with the Science! and make cookies at odd hours.” She says and slowly splatters more dough onto the sheet. Both her hands stay visible and she’s moving in measured movements like she knows she’s started the assassin and is trying to prove she’s a friendly. 

“Bribe?” The word comes out rougher than intended but Natasha hasn’t spoken in a few hours and needs a drink. The girl relaxes and begins to form her cookies more confidently. 

“It’s just that, Well I’ve mastered the Eye Twitch . I’m good. But Barton? Barton has achieved this like Vein Forehead Bulging thing that makes the Eye Twitch look mediocre. And you get it, I can’t be mediocre next to Clint. But nothing bothers Phil enough.” 

Natasha smirks and lets her head fall into the back of the sofa to watch the curious girl. 

“Clint does” 

“Oh. OH!

#############

After that night, Natasha watched Darcy charm the hell out of every Avenger to cross her path with a mixed batch of stubborn acts of Bad-Assary  and adorableness. 

Clint and Thor were wooed by her tasering of Thor and ceaseless bitching about her Ipod in a time before Natasha. Clint loves to bring up the seven different triplicate filed forms she submitted stating how the thift was unnecessary and just freaking rude. Clint of course has a weakness for people who are bitchy via paperwork so Natasha counts him as an easy win. 

Steve Rogers, however is not an easy win. He’s sad and grumpy lots of the time, and working the rest of the time. So he doesn’t care for the seemingly flippant girl at first. Eventually Steve falls into her clutches when they’re mid battle and Darcy, who happened to be downtown to meet some friends, rushes to the front of a crowd of trembling civilians and told the monologuing Doctor Doom to “Get Bent” before lobbing a rock at the tallest and ugliest robot that was probably meant to be RoboBear or something similar. Darcy’s defiance makes the stern Captain bark out a laugh into the stunned silence before he can stop himself. Doom turned in Rage to the man laughing at him and the New Yorkers emboldened by the brunette begin throwing anything not tied down at the monsters. 

After that the Captain laughs more. He smiles down at Darcy like she’s a miracle and he’s not sure how he got so lucky to have her near.  Natasha understands that more than she’d like to admit. Darcy’s 4AM cookies have bribed more than the girl intended. Thankfully it doesn’t become an issue when Steve admits one day during lunch that she reminds him of Bucky. 

Darcy of course preens a little and pinches Steve’s cheek. 

“Awwweee you big nerd!!!”

Bruce had been a slow turner as he is in most things. She brings an array of teas by his desk swapping out the cups while he mutters and scribbles like a mad scientist. Natasha watches with interest as Darcy buys a thousand and ten flavors and Bruce drinks them all without complaint, even tho he only enjoys a few. Then orbit each other like that for the longest time but when Bruce turns up to the gym one morning for Yoga to find Darcy drooling lightly onto a mat, he’s done for. She had tried to catch him at it many of the previous days and had only been met by the smells of freshly put of candles and his rolled up mat. So She’d gotten up even earlier or perhaps went straight from 4AM Natasha time to the gym to stake him out. Natasha suspects this as Darcy’s shirt is still a little icky form where she wipes her hands on it after she cracks eggs.

Bruce looks at Natasha and then fondly back at the brunette before shaking his head. Sucker, Natasha thinks, but can’t fault the man because she knows she’s hooked too.

Tony’s probably the easiest and it honestly could have gone either way. Everyone’s passing threw the kitchen in search of some form of breakfast. Steve’s fresh in from a run and Natasha had only just woken up herself but not Tony or Darcy. They’ve been up all night doing Science! They’re not even here for food really just coffee. They blunder toward the coffee pot and sort of have a stand off when they realize they others goal. 

“We’re on a 36 hour break thru” She says calmly. Tony frowns thoughtfully. 

“I just got off a plane form Tokyo” He counters.

“I live next door to Thor and Jane and they bang a lot.” Steve chokes on whatever he was eating. 

“Pepper made me sit in chair meetings?” He offers weakly. Darcy’s eyes light as if she knows she’s going to win. 

“I had to take loans for my degree and I’ve never ridden in an Aston Martin ” She says smugly. Tony blanches and waves her ahead. 

“We can fix that if you ever get done sciencing,I’ve got a few in the garage.” Tony offers searching for his blend at the back of the cabinet. 

“Nice I’ve never had a sugar daddy before! Can we make it like a sugar uncle tho? because I’m on an no dude diet” Steve chokes again. Tony however laughs.

“Yea kid no problem” He switches the filter not looking at Darcy. The brunette gathers her victory coffee and leans in to kiss Tony on the cheek. 

“Thanks Tony!” and she’s off like a breeze threw their airtight tower. Tony adores her. 

################

It’s during 4AM cookie time when things change again for Natasha. She wonders into the kitchen to find Darcy baking but also drinking heavily. The brunette hic-ups loudly and grins at the assassin. 

“Welcome to my midnight kitchen Tasha,” Darcy waves her spoon around in wide fast motions, a glob of batter flings across the face of the fridge.

“What’s the occasion?” The red head nods at the bottle. Darcy grabs is and examines the label as tho she had forgotten it was there. She hums slightly with a frown. 

“It was a courage shot, but I think it’s closer to a courage bottle now” She admits placing it slowly back on the counter. “Oh Darcy,” She rests her elbows on the counter and her head in her hands. “messing things up” She sighs. 

“I don’t think you need that for courage, little one, you are incredibly brave” Natasha says kindly. Darcy snorts and pops the spoon into her mouth.

“Not about you” Darcy says around her spoon. “Just wanted to say I love youu” she muttered her cheek still packed with dough and a spoon. Her eyes water slightly in the dim lights of the night. Natasha’s heart clenches with a sudden and strong hope. 

“That’s very good news, but I think you should tell me again in the morning” Natasha says taking the spoon from her mouth and pulling Darcy’s hand to bring her closer. The brunette folds effortlessly into Natasha’s arms and the red head smiles into her curls. 

“This isn’t an intentional bribe but I just happen to have Gatorade and painkillers in my apartment and you’re gonna want it in the morning.” Natasha offers. 

“Awwe isn’t that what I said to you? You’re so cute Tasha, cute and funny and smart and you helped me make Phil’s forehead do the thing” Darcy taps her temple with an adoring smile. Natasha chuckles and presses her lips to Darcy’s temple lightly. 

“Well it was a good bribe”  

For @musicalluna, whose birthday is today. I don’t know if you remember, but you requested this scenario from me your last birthday and then I was a very bad friend and never finished it. Here it is now. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

Warnings: Panic attack, chemical attack, injury

Characters: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanova, background Clint/Natasha, background Steve/Tony


Nat is ten yards away when she sees six AIM agents swarm Steve at once and latch onto him as best they can. She knows better than most that holding Steve down is not an easy thing to do, but six men putting in their all at once is enough to slow him down, enough to give the last agent the opportunity to get in his face. Nat sees it happening but she’s too far away and she’s got her own two goons between her and Steve. She vaults and spins and hears a spine snap but by the time she’s recovered from her landing it’s too late. There’s gas in Steve’s mouth and nose and eyes and Nat screams. Tony and Bruce are screaming with her and a moment later, Hulk is tearing through the battlefield and ripping agents off of Steve.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

if you dont think pierre and natasha are super into forehead kisses: youre wrong

anon, i could not agree more

*******************

One in the morning, one at night, and multiple others scattered throughout the day, each one better than the last, each leaving a divine trace of his exquisite love, a love so incredible that even in her wildest fantasies she could not create anything better. 

Natasha treasured the little things about Pierre. The way his hair curled over his forehead, brushing against his thick brows, often messy and out of place, threatening to hide his beautiful, deep brown eyes. How he licked the tips of his fingers to turn the pages of his books, and how she could hear them sweep across the paper. How softly he spoke to her when they were alone, and how even in public the air conspired to carry his soothing voice to her ears, the same way it would carry a song, and how it sent her heart fluttering. The way he rubbed the bridge of his nose when his glasses were bothering him, and how relief washed over him for the moment that they were lifted. The way his shoulders bulged, sturdy and strong as he pulled on his great coat in the morning, always sending a terrible, delightful shiver down her spine. 

But Natasha’s favorite thing about Pierre was how he showed his love to her, particularly when it was through gentle, lovely kisses. 

It was her luxury in the morning to feel the brush of his lips on her forehead, a low “good morning, my love” bringing her softly into the beauty of her waking life. When he would leave on errands, he’d kiss her forehead first, long and carefully, caressing the nape of her neck, causing her hair to stand on end, tracing his lips slowly down her nose, teasing her before placing a tender, loving kiss on her lips. He would greet her with them, surprise her with them, comfort her with them, and many times she felt him smile while he was doing it, an action that filled her further with the purest sense of bliss. 

Sometimes, he held her, standing in the drawing room, or in his study, or in the front hall, or anywhere propriety would allow, whispering his love to her, kissing her forehead before she would nestle into the warmth of him, her Petrushka, her dearest love. 

At night, he would leave her with one last kiss on the forehead, a comfort she became accustomed to before falling asleep, and one she felt lost without during the times that he was away paying calls. 

Each time she received the touch of his handsome lips on her skin, electricity pulsed through her, shocked her to her very core, and reminded her of just how dearly she loved Pierre. 

She often thought that heaven could not possibly compare to moments like these.

call them demons, prayers from the deep
there has always been beauty
in their hollow-eyed stares that whisper
of candles long burnt out
and ashes scattered on the winds.

empty shells, they,
nothing but reservoirs,
holding the thrum of music deep with their heartbeats
wine-glass-stem bodies, they
wanderers, searchers, they.

they will tell you that the dead
sing the most beautiful arias
ethereal, haunting. like nothing
the world has ever head before.
their smiles are shark’s teeth necklaces -

- their voices sighing
all of the remembered ecstasy;
the promise of a hunger fulfilled.
there is a reason that none who see them
are ever seen alive.

(the music of dying
has always tasted the sweetest)

—  foam breeze maidens, singing to you of song / Rishika Aggarwal © 2015

obvharry  asked:

Sooo I've never read a Niall fic and have no idea where to start? Any recs?

hiii!!! okay wow there are a lot of amazing Niall fics out there, here’s a list of them: 

  • screaming color and its sequel you and i need to have a little patience by @wokeuptired​ (it’s been over a year - i think - since i’ve finished reading these two and i still can’t stop thinking about how good Natasha is at writing these fics!!! Cole and Niall are the cutest, i swear)
  • left my heart out by @wokeuptired​ again because she’s super amazing & i love everything she writes. (this one is a love triangle between quentin, liam & niall - you’ll immediately fall in love with niall, i’m sure so this is a must read)
  • stars in your eyes by again, @wokeuptired​ !!! (this fic, i swear, i just, i have no words for it and yes it’s that good!!)
  • elementary by @marisa-writes​ (niall is a music teacher in this fic and how can you not love that?! reading this fic makes me want to be in it so i could get to know music teacher!niall)
  • 13 versions of a heart by…..yes, you guessed it right, it’s by @wokeuptired​ (it’s a one shot/mini fic and i’m sure you can finish reading this in one sitting, i know i did and it’s just so damn good i think about it a lot after i’ve finished reading it)

here comes the self promo….

  • come what may  (it’s a time travelling au and it’s sort of a love triangle fic as well? hahaha anyway this is one of the niall fics i wrote that is actually on tumblr so yeah)
How You Met Natasha Romanoff:

Originally posted by clintbaarton

To say your life changed after meeting the deadly assassin was an understatement to say the very least. You never did mean to stumble into her life. The night was quiet when you first met her. She was never part of your agenda for the night, however fate did just bring the two of you closer together. You had no intention of running into an Avenger that night nor did you ever want to. You were a wanted criminal and there was no way in hell that you were going to be captured by the damn government.

Some called you a hero, others liked the word “vigilante”. You were sure the Avengers would like to get their hands on you. SHIELD have been trying for years and when that went kaput, it was the Avengers themselves that continued to look for you. They never did succeed, however. You left obvious trails for them to follow only to always escape with nothing more than a shadow left for them to play with. It was wonderfully amusing to see the old Captain searching left and right for you as well as Iron Man stupidly scanning the whole city with his useless tech. A smirk was always etched onto your face as you fled the scene.

Every day, the Avengers would take turns trying to catch you only to end with a trail of smoke. Captain America, then Iron Man, Hawkeye would try next, with the Winter Soldier after. One by one, the team tried to capture you. Everyone except the Black Widow. You always wondered why the woman never joined in on your game of cat and mouse with the others. Someone as gifted as Miss Romanoff surely would’ve at least tried once.

You spoke too soon.

The day you met the woman was the first time you were left speechless. The quiet whispers of the wind chilled your bones as you were crouched upon a rooftop, waiting for your next kill that night. You never killed for fun. You killed for justice. That was why you were wanted by the Avengers. They all wanted your head on the wall. But someone had to care for the city and you sure as hell didn’t want the two idiots in red spandex doing it, so you took the position yourself.  

No one in the Avengers ever caught sight of you. All they could rely on were pixelated pictures circulating the webs.  Even Tony’s little system could only do so much. No one ever saw you during your fights. You wore a mask. So how did Natasha Romanoff manage to knock you off your feet?

You were about to leap down into the city after hearing sirens blaring through the streets, flashing their colorful lights to warn others of the crime. Your feet never did make it down to the cement paving where the cop cars were racing towards the scene. Instead your entire body hit the balcony below with a painful thud as the spy landed gracefully next to you.

There she was, Natasha Romanoff.

You squeezed your eyes in reaction to the pain that shredded through your body. A constant ringing sounded through your skull as your body hesitated to move. However, your mind screamed at your body to pick itself up away from the enemy. Her heavy boots neared you as she bent down to pick you up, a sly, familiar smirk playing on her lips.

You were in awe by her beauty. Her fiery red hair was stunning underneath the moonlight. Everything they said about her were all true. Returning the smile, you were incredibly impressed by her skill. Not even the great Captain America was able locate where you were, despite being just blocks away. However, she clearly was distracted that night because escaping her grasp was a joke to her dangerous reputation. With a rush of movements, your thighs locked her into a chokehold as you slammed her into the ground, leaving her breathless as you ran for your freedom. Surely she was just as distracted as you were.

The move even shocked you at first. You just attacked the great Natasha Romanoff and lived to tell the tale. It had to be love.

Your legs carried you quickly through the dark night as the cold wind rushed past your face, hitting you harshly. You had nowhere to go but the alley way. Heavy, ragged breaths escaped your lips as you jumped over the balcony quickly, landing painfully on your feet with a heavy crash. Your heart was threatening to leap out of your chest as it ran on the adrenaline rushing through your veins. You looked up to see her signature red hair flowing through the wind as she followed you down rapidly. For the first time in your life, you were fearful of your safety

There was not a chance that you could fight the Black Widow and win, you could only hope you could outrun her. So you forced your legs to move faster as you struggled to jump and leap over fences to escape the twisted alleyways. Looking over your shoulder, you saw her smirk at you only to cause fear to surge through your veins once again. It wasn’t until your frame smashed into a solid object, ricocheting your body backwards towards the spy. Looking up slowly, you were faced with the smug looks of every single member of the Avengers you tricked and escaped in the past with Captain America standing broadly over your fallen body.

And that was how you met the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff.

Keep reading

8

[2014 / 2016]

Do you guys remember what it was like to have your first audition together?
Vividly.

anonymous asked:

If you're still taking prompts, Tony/Natasha "what are you making at 1 am and follow up why?"

since i didn’t say goodnight last night, i wanted to do the last few <3

“What are you making at one AM, and as a follow up, why?”

Natasha glances back over her shoulder away from the pot of berries and sugar she’s stirring lazily.

Tony is standing in the doorway to the kitchen and it looks like he’s been actually sleeping. His eyes are a little puffy and his hair is flat on one side and sticking up straight on the other and there’s a pink crease on his cheek. A surge of fondness washes through her. Natasha’s pretty sure he wasn’t in bed though, because he’s wearing one of his greasy t-shirts and a pair of sweats and there are black smudges on his fingers.

And yet he’s up.

“Kissel,” she replies and turns back to watch the pot. The sugar is very nearly dissolved.

“Gesundheit,” Tony says and she rolls her eyes.“What’s kissel?”

Natasha doesn’t answer him immediately because it’s time to pour in the potato starch liquid. She pours it in and stirs it up, adding heat and stirring, stirring, stirring. While it’s heating up, she says, “It’s a thick, sweet drink.”

“Russian hot chocolate?”

Natasha shakes her head. “The only similarity is sweetness.” She doesn’t intend to say anything else because this is something that cuts close to her core, but they’ve all been working on saying things that are uncomfortable in an effort to develop the team. If she’s honest, it’s a little bit harder when it comes to Tony. It takes a moment for her to force the words to her lips: “It’s one of the few good things from my childhood.”

She keeps her eyes on the pan as she takes the thickened liquid from the heat and sets it aside to cool. She keeps stirring even though it doesn’t need it.

“Oh,” Tony says, and his voice is quiet. It’s obvious he recognizes the gesture and he’s taking care with his reaction, but not in a way that makes her regret saying something.

“It’s a cold drink,” Natasha tells him. She turns, finally releasing the spoon, and looks at Tony. He’s listening and it’s funny to see how intent his expression is coupled with his bedhead. “When we did something particularly good, we got kissel for dessert. The first time I won in combat, I had a cup.” Her gaze drops away momentarily. “And the first time I killed a man.”

“Well, that’s a shit association,” Tony says matter-of-factly and Natasha laughs despite herself.

When she looks up, he beckons her over with one crooked finger. “We should change that.”

Natasha smiles. “What do you have in mind?”

His eyes are dark and captivating in the low kitchen light. He hesitates the barest moment and then taps his lips. “How about a kiss?”

they promised to throw you to wolves
as though that was meant to dissuade you
instead, you put on a
silver-thread pelt
sharpen your tongue on whetstones
pour poison in your veins.
instead, you learn to wield
the flames they thought they could
turn against you.
wolves were never a challenge
not for you.
—  in the company of wolves / Rishika Aggarwal © 2015
My headcanon: The Natasha/Bruce subplot was a long-term manipulation of Natasha’s in order to control the Hulk.

In Avengers, Natasha is clearly terrified of Bruce/the Hulk.  But she’s trained to use her own fear and turn it to her advantage (playing the Russians, and Loki, in Avengers, etc).  And what’s her specialty?  Long term undercover operations.  The manipulation of people.  Altering the person she shows of herself in order to control someone.  She’s a chameleon; she becomes whoever is most needed to get the job done.  (The truth isn’t all things to all people.  And neither am I). 

So, she’s terrified of the Hulk and what he can do, but she’s on a team with him and around his alter ego all the time.  She has a very specific skillset.  So what is the best way to control the Hulk?  Get close to Bruce.  And while she’s at it, what better way to neutralize her own fear of the Hulk’s threat than to make herself the one person Bruce Banner would never want to hurt?  Thus the lullaby.  Thus the love interest. 

She starts off the first romance conversation by talking about a man who done her wrong, but when asked, she demurs away from telling Bruce what that wrong was.  Because the wrong he did to her was the Hulk chasing her through the helicarrier–her pseudo-home of that point–destroying everything in his path and trying to destroy her.  Before she steps up to go recalibrate Hawkeye, she’s clearly traumatized by that confrontation.  So she can reference it in her conversations (her manipulations are always about layers and just-enough truths) but carefully demurs away from the cold truth about the man who wronged her with a line about how something could always happen in the future.  Translated: she’s afraid that ‘wrong’ could happen to her again.

She deliberately asks Bruce: Should I run with it? to get his own unwitting confirmation that romance is the best strategy to keep the emotional upper hand on him/the Hulk.  She refers back to that conversation more like it’s a battle plan than a flirtation later (‘What are you doing?’  ‘I’m running with it’).

Clint, her self-acknowledged best friend, who knows her better than anyone, doesn’t have any idea that Natasha is interested in Bruce.  We’ve already seen that he’s highly observant and not stupid by any means, so if literally every other person in the movie has noticed and commented on the Natasha/Bruce stuff, there’s no way her closest friend aptly named ‘Hawkeye’ somehow just completely missed it.  But he’s totally surprised when his wife mentions it.  Because of all people, he knows Natasha best.

In the cave when Bruce frees her, she acts like the love-interest long enough to see if he’ll do what she wants (go Green) on his own without breaking her cover.  But when her manipulation fails, she drops the act because it’s no longer useful (the difference in the way she says ”I adore you…” vs “but I need the Other Guy.”) and gets him to Hulk out anyway, because doing her job as an Avenger and making him do his is more important than maintaining the cover she’s made for herself with him.  

Bruce/The Hulk takes the ship and turns off the video because Bruce figured out when Natasha kicked him into Hulk mode that their romance had been a ruse to control the Hulk.  Her wall-staring at the end isn’t sentimental pining, but conflict over having been running an operation on a fellow team member for so long. 

fic: I’ll Save This Dance for You

Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~7700
Characters: Steve/Natasha, background Sam/Sharon
Prompt: “Just so you know, I would not say no to college AU art major Steve meets dance major Natasha and begs her to model for him. I’m just throwing that out there. With smut?”
Summary: AU. She knows she shouldn’t volunteer to spend the day with him when she’s still trying to keep her attraction to him in check. But she wouldn’t be a good friend if she didn’t at least offer it, right?

For: bloodredmoon87

A/N: Rewrote this and tweaked the prompt a little to fit the civilian ‘verse, because I came across it again from a while back and thought it would be a perfect “prequel” of sorts! So I hope you don’t mind the changes.

Excerpt:

“It’s alright. It’s not a big deal.” Steve shrugs. “I’m sure I can get one of the employees at the bakery or the coffeehouse to let me paint them.”

Natasha licks her lips a little, plays with the straw in her smoothie. She knows she shouldn’t volunteer to spend the day with him when she’s still trying to keep her attraction to him in check, especially when they’ll be alone. But she wouldn’t be a good friend if she didn’t at least offer it, right?

“You could paint me.”

Steve blinks, raises his eyebrows a little. Natasha doesn’t have to look over her shoulder to know that Sam and Sharon are grinning like idiots, so she ignores them.

He rubs his lips together, and there’s a moment where Natasha thinks he’s going to politely decline. He doesn’t like people going through any trouble for him, even though she knows he’d go out of his way to do someone else a favor. She rolls her eyes. “I don’t have to work at the bar tomorrow, and rehearsal is in the morning. Just meet me at the studio after.”

He contemplates this for a moment longer, but then his mouth is curving into a smile, small but bright, and her stomach does this stupid little flip. “I’ll treat you to lunch.”

“Obviously,” she says, and she swears she hears Sam snicker.

Read on: [ ffnet ] [ ao3 ]

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anonymous asked:

Hi, I love your blog! Could you do 23 for Natasha?

23. “Wait…is that my shirt?!”


You can definitely say that being in a relationship with the Black Widow has its ups and downs. Reminding yourself to maintain a professional exterior while in a professional environment. Giving into her irresistible touches and kisses even you are sure you make it clear that it’s your turn to play this one out. Attempting to shrug off her infamous shit-eating smirk when either Clint or Sam decides to make an equally shit-eating smart remark about your dishevelled appearance after spending hours on end in Natasha’s room. 

One that irks you the most, however, is her rather scarce willingness to admit that she is hilariously hypocritical. 

The two of you share an apartment upstate, and so whenever either of you decides to do the laundry or to visit the city or is sent out to an endeavour out of the country, it is difficult to decipher whose article of clothing is whose. It’s especially harder when you encounter one of her jackets that have always caught your eye. You recall the first time you had actually asked to borrow it.

“Hey, Nat,” you called to her from your place in the closet, holding her belted leather jacket in your hands.

She looked up from the bed, pausing in the book she’d been reading. She side-eyed the jacket in your grip. “What?”

Natasha’s growing suspicion was obvious in her green eyes. You swallowed. “Um, do you mind if I borrow this sometime?”

You’d only seen that still and incoherent expression from her while on missions. However, being one of the few who could actually get a read on her, you knew she was not amused by your question. So you turned back to put the jacket back where it was, giving her a prompt “Never mind” and dropping the subject.

Since then, you have thought about simply just snatching it when she isn’t looking or when she’s away and wearing it out to an event without her. But it’s Natasha fucking Romanoff. If you don’t have the guts to do something without slipping it by her, you don’t know who can.

You’ll admit you thought about doing it while packing for the orders in Monaco Cap had initially given you. But with Natasha being co-leader of the Avengers and being your extremely defensive partner-in-crime, she had to insist on keeping an eye on you throughout the job. 

So here you are, treading along the empty halls of the lavish hotel, carefully murmuring back confirmations to Steve through your earpiece. You are to meet Natasha by her room and even from a fair distance can you see her. 

“And here I thought you’d never make it,” she jabs, a smirk grazing her red lips.

You return her grin and immediately do your eyes roam over her figure. “You look…” Your eyes catch onto the white blouse she is clad in, widening. “Wait…is that my shirt?!”

She purses her lips together at your reaction. “I believe the word you were looking was ‘ravishing.’”

You roll your eyes. “You know, you are one hell of a headache. I don’t remember you asking to borrow my shirt!”

“Like you’d say yes if I did,” she replies.

“I would if you’d let me borrow your clothes!”

“It’s all based on preference, sweetheart,” she says, walking ahead of you.

“You know what I preferred? That jacket I kindly asked you to lend me!”

She chuckles smugly. “Yeah, that is a cute jacket…”

You hold your mouth open, ready to crack another retort, but Steve’s voice interrupts you through your earpiece. “Nat, Y/N — where the hell are you?”

Natasha speaks before you can, peering up at you over her shoulder. “We’re on our way,” she answers.

You return her stare, silently swearing that this conversation is not over.

Morphine confessions

(A/N): i am cringing at how bad this is

Request:  Could you write an natasha x reader where the reader gets hurt and the situation is serious and all but when the reader wakes up she’s like high af from the morphine( or some painkiller shit) and is all ‘hahha this is funny’ and confessed her crush to nat cause idk she things nat is someone else cause she is so high and nat has to deal with a very high very affectionate reader and fluff and all that good shit (and maybe a kiss at the end when the reader is less high 😂)

Warnings: none


Originally posted by blackinjustice

   “Oh my god (Y/N),” Nat breathed out as the discoloration of their skin only got worse. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” 

   The mission was a fail from the start, the Avengers had gotten in there and royally screwed up. From the moment the jet touched the ground they were in for it, little had anyone known just how bad it was going to get. 

   They were fighting a fleet of robots, giant robots from stupid sci-fi movies, the ones with laser beams and guns at the ready. It was a little ridiculous but nonetheless intimidating. Despite this the Avengers went in there and fought their little hearts out, (Y/N) almost a bit to figuratively. In the hast of the fight they’d failed to realize falling appendages from the robots when one landed on them directly, knocking them down and unto their back. 

   They were pinned beneath the metal arm, unable to move, whimpering as great amounts of pain exploded within them. It had taken a while for them to get the attention of anyone, after all everyone was caught up in the battle that they failed to realize (Y/N) squirming on the ground like a worm, and unfortunately for them that was going to lead to disaster. 

   It had been what seemed like hours (it was only a few minutes) by the time Nat had noticed that (Y/N) was gone, but by then the damage had already been done. The weight of arm had caused great amounts of internal bleeding and (Y/N) would be damn lucky to even survive long enough to get to the hospital. 

   Nat rushed to their side, ordering everyone around her to assist in the removal of the arm. With some help Nat was able to push the arm off and (Y/N) took in a huge gasp of air, their eyes shooting open in pain as they do so. 

  “What’s wrong (Y/N)?” Nat asks as she cups the back of their head, keeping them supported as she gingerly ran her other hand down the front of their suit. She stopped however when (Y/N) inhaled deeply, tears beginning to pool in their eyes. “Did that hurt?” Nat asks as her hand stills, applying only a slight bit of pressure to their chest. 

  Had (Y/N) been able to they’d scream in pain but the could only vigorously nod, more tears spilling from their eyes. Nat removes her hand, quickly yanking it away from their body. She could see no visible wound, perhaps the damage lay underneath the suit. 

   “(Y/N), I’m going to have to look under your suit, okay?” Had (Y/N) been in the right state of mind they would have argued but the pain building within their body was so great they couldn’t help but nod, not even caring who saw their chest and stomach. Nat wastes no time unzipping the suit and before she’s even finished she knows that things aren’t looking to good. Bruises of deep purples and greens coated their chest and Nat automatically knew what that meant. 

  “Oh my god,” She breathes out, watching as the purples hues only get darker. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Nat’s eyes search their chest and her heart is beating so rapidly against her chest she feels as though it may explode. 

   “Nat- what’s going on- oh my god,” Steve breathes out as he comes to a halting stop before the pair. “That’s- that’s, we need a hospital,” Nat nods, furiously wiping away at the tears gathering in her eyes. 

   “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” 


   Nat awaited in the waiting room, pacing up and down, nibbling on her fingernails as they operated on (Y/N), attempting to salvage whatever was left of her poor organs. 

   “Nat,” Steve sighs as he reenters the room, having just gone out to grab some coffee for the team. “You’re gonna make yourself bleed, you’ve got no nail left to bite,” Steve states cooly as he hands Nat her smoking drink. Little wisps of steam rise from the cup, indicating that it was hot but Nat didn’t care. She lifted the cup to her lips and took a strong gulp, completely dismissing the burning sensation it left in her throat. 

  “Nat, you’re gonna burn your throat, stop,” Steve steadies Nat’s hand, keeping her from drinking anymore. “I know you’re nervous, we all are but you gotta keep calm okay,” Nat opened her mouth to retaliate, to state something along the lines of ‘You don’t understand, I love them and I may never get the chance to tell them or call them mine or take them out on a date or give them kisses, I may very well never even see them again so shut your mouth,’ But instead she remained silent, just staring down into the dark liquid in her cup. 

   “They’re gonna be okay,” Steve reaches out, cupping Nat’s cheek in his free hand, almost soothing Nat. “They’re a fighter, they’ll be good-” Steve is interrupted as the door to the surgical wing open and out walks a nurse, clipboard in her hand. She surveys it for a moment before looking up and at the people around her. 

   “Um…you guys here for a Miss (Y/L/N)?” Nat nods quickly, almost springing up to the nurse at the mention of (Y/N). The nurse gives the eager group a slight smile before looking down at her clipboard, her smile never faltering. “Well, they pulled through, right now they’re just sleeping and they should wake up soon enough, the morphine we gave em is still wearing off so they may be a bit-” The nurse circles her finger around her temple, making small whistling noises as she does so. “So, just as a fair warning, they may be a bit weird but other than that they should be good, the doctor is going to tell you everything you need to know when you get in there and you guys can head on back if you want,” Nat didn’t need to be told twice, she sprang through the doors, down the hall, not stopping until she reached (Y/N)’s room. 

   She poked her head through the door, surveying the small room and the occupant before taking a hesitant step in. (Y/N) was indeed asleep, their chest steadily rising and falling as they shallowly sucked in air. Nat’s nerves lowered just a bit as she reached out, grazing (Y/N)’s skin with her fingertips. They were okay, they were fine, they were alive and well and-

  “Clint?” (Y/N)’s voice is hoarse and quiet. “That you?” Nat’s mouth runs dry at the mention of Clint. What if and (Y/N) had a thing going on? What if Nat had totally ruined their relationship with her own feelings? What if- 

   “Shhh, Clint, don’t tell anyone but-” (Y/N) breaks off into a fit of giggles, wincing slightly when their laughter caused their chest to ache. “But I really like Nat,” Nat’s heart stops and her mouth really does run dry. (Y/N) liked her, (Y/N) liked her back? How was this possible? She’d would have never thought that her feelings would be reciprocated and yet they were? “She’s just so pretty and nice and she’s got a really nice voice and she smells like fruit and comfort and she’s so funny and sweet and I think I love her,” (Y/N) states in one breath, much to Nat’s surprise. 

  Nat’s insides liquefy at (Y/N)’s words and she nearly squeaks at the thought of (Y/N) actually loving her. Before she had time to react or even contemplate (Y/N)’s words further they’ve gone on again, this time on a totally different subject. 

   “Clint, you’re the bestest friend I could ever ask for,” (Y/N) grabs Nat’s hands, tugging her down onto the bed with them. “And I love you so much, but not as much as Nat because I don’t love any one more than Nat,” Nat smiles as she gingerly holds (Y/N), being mindful of their recently operated chest. 

   “I love you too (Y/N), more than you could ever know,” 

~Extended ending~

   (Y/N) woke up to a pleasant warmth surrounding them and a not so pleasant tightness in their chest.  

   “Shit,” They whisper quietly, attempting to move only to be stopped by a pair of arms, keeping them trapped within their warm embrace. A brief moment of panic flashes through them until suddenly those warm arms move a bit and the owner of those arms make a small, tired groan. 

   “You awake sleeping beauty?” And oh shit, that was Nat’s voice, in their bed. 

   “Y-Yeah,” (Y/N) stutters in shock, “Yeah I am,” Nat smiles against (Y/N)’s head and although (Y/N) very much enjoys the gesture it wouldn’t be completely unreasonable to want to know why Nat was suddenly cuddling with them. “Nat what happened? What’s going on and why-” (Y/N) is quite suddenly cut off when Nat gingerly presses her lips to (Y/N)’s, silencing their questions. Now this, this was truly shocking, not that (Y/N) didn’t enjoy because holy hell they did but why was Nat suddenly kissing them. (Y/N) was just about to pull away when Nat did, letting her lips linger against (Y/N)’s for a moment afterwards. 

   “By the way,” Nat begins smugly, “I’m not Clint and I think I love you more than anything too,” 

   Okay, what in the hell happened during the last 24 hours?

But while their (Skye and Cal’s) story seemingly draws to a close, the tale of Fitz and Simmons is just beginning. The two finally confront Fitz’s declaration at the end of Season One - just in time for Simmons to disappear. “Fitz and Simmons are forever connected,” Tancharoen says. “The reason they can’t come together. Perhaps because as soon as they do come together, people will stop hoping for it. And hope is a powerful thing.”
— 

AoS declassfied season two (S.O.S. part 2)