Request from uggfightme (Thank you so much I love you): natatsha romanoff x reader + hair tucking pleaaase
Word Count: 1,400
Ouch. Everything hurts, but you weren’t about to open your mouth and complain about it. Complaining isn’t really your style. Besides, you’ve came home from missions beat up and injured, so this feeling is nothing new. Okay, maybe it’s a little new because, yes, you’ve come home hurt, but never this bad. Needless to say, Natasha was not happy to hear that she needed to pick you up from the hospital because SHIELD received false intel and sent you on a mission you should’ve never been on.
Now you lay sprawled out on the couch in the living room of the apartment you and Natasha share after arguing with her for solid ten minutes to let you move from the bedroom. You may be sworn to not move from the couch, but at least you got to stretch your legs in the short walk from the bedroom to the living room. But now, that short walk is starting to feel like the worst idea ever. Not that you would admit Natasha was right about it. Dammit, why is she always right?
You shift your body in attempt to get comfortable, a small wince escapes your lips as your ribs nudge the couch. Despite not looking at your sides yet, you already know they are painted with various shades of purple, black, and blue. Your injury inventory from this mission include six broken ribs (four on the right, two on the left), a broken nose, two black eyes, a busted lip, a spit cheekbone (your face has definitely seen better days), a dislocated left shoulder, two broken fingers, a broken ankle, and a ton of cuts and bruises. Thank God for superhuman healing or you would be out for over a year, but this healing isn’t going to be short either.
Natasha glances over at you with a frown at the quiet noise. She is still furious with SHIELD. They fucked up bad this time. You’re a fantastic agent considering the limited training you’ve had to master your power of teleportation. It sounds like the ultimate power, except you can only teleport to places you can see, which is still pretty great. Until you face an incredibly powerful telekinetic who can literally stopped you in your tracks.
Unbeknownst to SHIELD, Hydra successfully created a superhuman who was stationed at the base you, Captain America, and Hawkeye were sent to infiltrate while Black Widow was on another mission. If it wasn’t for Steve and Clint, who knows how you would have came out of the mission. Except, the presences of a superhuman designed to fight you specifically was suspected by SHIELD, information which they declined to share. They claimed that it was “a likely probability with no concrete evidence” so they chose to send you anyways. To say Natasha is furious is an understatement (of course, so are Clint and Steve, but their rage has nothing on Natasha’s).
Natasha stands up from the desk where she was typing on her laptop and stares down at your heavily bruised face which was now trying to sleep once more. Fortunately, the swelling has gone down significantly (once again, thank God for superhuman healing) so when you open your eyes to meet the redhead’s green eyes, you are able to open them fully despite your black eyes. You smile up at her despite the protest from your split lip.
“Hi,” You greet quietly.
Every loud noise contributes to the dull ache in your head so you’ve been rather quiet for the past two days since waking up in the hospital room (You nearly cried from happiness when you found out you could finally go home instead of listening to the constant beeping from your heart monitor. Every beep felt like a hammer pounding at your temples).
“Hi,” She whispers, dropping down to a squatting position which put you two at eye height.
She gently ran her fingers through your hair as you leaned into her hand like a cat. Her fingernails softly brushing against your scalp is the best feeling in the world.
“How are you feeling?”
You shrug one shoulder weakly.
“I’ve had better days,” You manage a small grin.
Natasha continues running her fingers through your hair as her eyes scan your other injuries. Your eyes slip shut in the comforting motion, the smile small never leaving your face. Despite the absolute ease Natasha’s presents places you in, you can’t help but to flinch when you feel her fingers dust across the angry almost black bruises wrapped around your neck in the shape of hand from where the telekinetic suspended you in the air until you lost consciousness. Your eyes fly open with a sudden intake of air as Natasha’s hand recoils at your shocked reaction.
“Sorry,” You murmur apologetically. “They’re still sensitive.”
Natasha’s jaw clenches at the thought of the Hydra agent’s fingers digging into your skin and laughing as they hold you in place while you desperately attempt to free yourself. As anger takes over her features, you bring your good arm up to cradle her cheek.
She blinks, leaning into your hand, her own hand covering it.
“You should have never been on that mission,” The redhead whispers, her eyes momentarily stopping on your left arm secured against your body in a sling.
“I know, but there’s nothing we can do about it now,” You quietly remind her.
Natasha lets out a deep breath then softly smiles at you. She tucks a strand of hair which fell in front of your eyes behind your ear then presses a soft kiss to your forehead. You make a small sound of protest in the back of your throat, then ignoring your broken ribs, lean up and pull Natasha close, giving her a proper kiss. Injuries be damned, you want to kiss your girlfriend. She presses back against you gently then pulls back and eases you back into laying position on the couch.
“You need to rest.”
You stick your lower lip out at her and cross your good arm across your chest in your best attempt to pout.
“Come on, babe,” You protest. “I don’t want to rest.”
“If you could see what state you’re in, you would want to rest,” Natasha stands up and walks into the kitchen.
“But I don’t need to see what state my body is in. I can feel it. Trust me,” You argue.
“Then there’s more reason for you to rest,” Natasha rolls her eyes at you as she pulls the two sandwiches she made from the refrigerator and walks back over to you on the couch.
She places one of the sandwiches on the coffee table in front of you and is about to sit on the loveseat next to the couch you’re sprawled across when you catch her arm and pull her down on the couch with you. The spy lands next to your head and you sit up to put your head in her lap. Natasha smirks down at you, her fingers running through your hair once more.
“Can’t you at least distract me?” You purr through your dark lashes as you stare up at the redhead.
She leans down and presses another kiss to your lips as your fingers tangle themselves in her silky hair.
“Believe me,” Natasha whispers, her minty breath mixing with her elegant perfume. “I want to,” She straightens up, her fingers playing with the tips of your hair. “But you’ve got to get a little further along in the healing process before I’d feel comfortable with having my way with you, котенок.”
“You’re not going to hurt me,” You promise.
“In the state you’re in right now,” Natasha’s eyes scan down your various injuries. “It would be really easy to hurt you without meaning to. Give yourself a few more days.”
You pout your lips once again but begrudgingly nod in agreeance.
“Fine, but when I’m better-” But Natasha cuts you off with dark eyes.
“I promise you won’t be able to see straight.”
You grin at the thought then pull Natasha close for one last kiss. You know this mission terrified Natasha once she learned what you were going up against. If Steve and Clint hadn’t intervened sooner, there was a very good chance that would have been your last mission. But right now, that didn’t matter because you were home with her, and you were safe.
Hope you liked it! Thanks for reading! Request are open.
To celebrate (e/s/se)asian & pacific islander heritage month:
“Don’t whiteout your skin kid. I know she made fun of you for being yellow and dark, but don’t whiteout your skin kid. Don’t use that filter to look lighter. Don’t lower the warmth to be less yellow. Let your gold tinted, sweet yellow, soft brown skin be free. And I know she made fun of you for having a “fat wide nose” but but look how cute it is with its septum ring! Look how that nose is on your father, and grandfather, and the beautiful woman who bore him. It is a strong nose. Wide, wide to breathe life in. And don’t forget, your eyes are dark and rich like the hugs and humid nights wandering the fields with ama. Love your Taiwanese heritage, kid.