Fics Cuz Im Hyper fixated And Bored

She/her 20 I post fics about the MCU mostly in AU about Natasha Romanoff aka Black Widow Feel free to ask me anything or request a fic

[blackwidowfics]

Fic won’t be up tonight. Sorry I got caught up with something.

[blackwidowfics]

New fic coming tonight!! Chosen from the poll!

[blackwidowfics]

Safe House Snow Day

SFW

DO NOT COPY

Fluff

No warnings

Summary: Natasha and Y/n are on a mission that has been put on hold due to a massive blizzard and have to find ways to pass the time.

Words: 3039

Natasha is forced to hide out in a remote cabin during a mission gone wrong, and Y/n is stuck there with her for a week. Y/n expects intense spy training… but instead Natasha has some other things in mind.     We are both in the living room of the cabin as the fireplace crackling fills the room with its soothing sound. The snow falls gracefully looking like glitter falling from the sky, and Natasha is reading a book while you are playing a game on your phone.       "Nothing. Just a game."  You say not even looking up from your phone.      

"I can see that." She says dryly. After a moment, she sighs again and stands up, walking over to you and tapping your shoulders. She's bored and has an idea. 

"Put the phone away for a minute. I want to do something.”     "What kind of something?” You ask.       "You'll see." Natasha says, plucking the phone out of your hands and setting it out of your reach. "I can't have you distracted for what I have in mind.”   "Hey!" You protest, reaching for your phone, but Natasha takes your wrists to stop you and pulls you up to your feet.    "Come here for a second." She says, smiling mischievously.    "Ugh, why?”    She laughs and rolls her eyes at your complaining. She tugs you over to a comfy couch near the fireplace, keeping a grip on your wrists.

"Just trust me." She says, sitting down and pulling all the pillows and blankets down and starts making a fort. 

You watch her with your arms crossed, not understanding what's going on. After a few minutes, she's finished the fort. But why? 

"Come here and get inside." Natasha gestures to the fort she just made.   "Why did you make a fort?” You ask her while she fixes all the blankets.     "Because I felt like it," Natasha says, grinning as she pulls you inside the fort with her. The inside is cozy, the firelight casting a warm glow through the blankets. She grabs a pile of snacks she must’ve hidden earlier and dumps them between you. 

"Now we’re stuck here for a while, so might as well make it fun."   Natasha says, but what she doest want to say is that she wants to give you the childhood that was stolen from her and that she never got to experience any of these things. She has decided to do these things with you since you never got to do them either.   Your mind is still filled with confusion, but you can't help feeling a glimmer of excitement. Natasha has always been serious and focused. She's never done anything like this before.

"Okay, so what now?" You ask as you settle into the fort.      Natasha shrugs nonchalantly, though her eyes twinkle with anticipation. She grabs a blanket and drapes it over both of you, creating a cozy little nook inside the fort.

"Now we get comfortable." She says, grabbing a couple of pillows and propping them against the side of the fort. She leans back, stretching her legs out in front of her and patting the space next to her. "Come here. There's something I want to do.”   "Oh great what now?" You ask with an over exaggerated sigh.  Natasha chuckles at your dramatic sigh. She rolls her eyes playfully and gives you a small nudge with her shoulder.  "Oh, stop being so dramatic. It's not like I'm going to torture you." She teases. "Just come here. I promise it'll be fun.”   Natasha reaches into a hidden pocket of the blanket fort—because of *course* she rigged it with hidden compartments—and pulls out a deck of cards. She fans them out with one smooth flick of her wrist, her grin widening at your curious expression.

"Ever played Bullsh… “ She catches herself, clears her throat. "...Baloney? We’re gonna see how bad you are at lying to a trained spy." She arches a brow, already dealing the cards.  "No, what's that? Is it some kind of Russian poker?” Natasha snorts, shaking her head as she finishes dealing. "Not even close. It's way better."  

She leans in, lowering her voice like she’s sharing classified intel. "Here’s the deal—you play cards facedown and lie about what they are. If I call ‘Baloney' on you and I’m right? You take the whole pile. If I’m wrong? I take it." Her grin turns wicked. "And trust me, I will catch you lying."  

She taps the top card of her own stack. "I’ll start. Two threes." Fwoop—she slides two cards facedown between you. “Baloney!" You call out. Natasha smirks at your quick callout. "You sure?" She asks, arching a brow as she starts to reach for the cards. But then—  

You grin proudly, flipping over her cards- and revealing two queens. Natasha's jaw drops a second as she stares at your hand.

"No way," she huffs with a laugh, shaking her head. "Fine that was a lucky guess." She takes the whole pile and shuffles the deck with a satisfied smile. "My turn.” She says.   "Fine, let's see if you can do any better. I doubt it though."   With that said you place down your cards. "Hmm, two kings.”   Natasha narrows her eyes at your confident declaration, her spy instincts kicking in. She studies your face for any tells—a twitch, a smirk, anything.  

"Two kings, huh?" She drawls, drumming her fingers on the blanket. Then, with a lightning-fast move, she flips the cards—two aces stare back at her.  

She bursts out laughing, shaking her head as she scoops the pile toward you. "Oh, you are terrible at this. And here I thought spies were supposed to be good liars."  

She leans in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Want me to teach you how to bluff properly? Or should we just accept that you’re handing me victory?”  "Oh come on! How did you guess that? I didn't give any tell.” You complained. Natasha wiggles her fingers mysteriously, grinning. "Spy instincts, remember? Your left eyebrow twitches when you bluff." She leans in, dropping her voice to a stage-whisper. "Also, you were biting your lip. Classic rookie move."  

She gathers the cards with a flourish, clearly enjoying herself. "But don’t worry—you’ll get better. Or," she adds with a playful shrug, "you won’t, and I’ll keep winning. Either way, I’m having fun."  

Dealing the next round, she slides two cards toward you with a smirk. "Your turn. Impress me.”  You rolled your eyes at her. "Fine," you place down four cards this time face down "I call one ace, two fives and one three." You say with a confident expression on your face. Natasha scrutinizes your hand, her smirk vanishing. She leans in to study your expression. Her stare is intense, almost unnerving—like a cat zeroing in on its prey. She knows you're bluffing; your twitching left eyebrow is a dead giveaway.  

But you're determined to throw her off. You force yourself to maintain steady eye contact, refusing to blink or give away your thoughts.  

After a long pause, she grins. "I call Baloney." Time to see whose gut is right. You flip over the cards to reveal what they are. Fwoop. Cards flip over to reveal...  two fives, a three and an ace! 

"W-what??!!" Natasha stares at her own cards, dumbfounded. "I was sure you were bluffing!" She smacks you playfully in the arm. "This is not fair."  

Grinning, she scoops up the pile with a groan. "Fine," she concedes, shuffling the deck again. "You won that round. Barely. But I promise, you won't get lucky twice."  "Yes!! I beat you again!” You cheered. Natasha scoffs light-heartedly, her competitive side ignited. "Lucky shot." She deals the next hand. "Alright, you won two rounds. But let's see if you can make it three." She pins you with a challenging look. "You're mine, hotshot. I'm not going easy on you again."  

She lays her cards down. "Two fours." Her smirk dares you to call her bluff.  "I call baloney!”       

Natasha's smirk melts into disbelief as her head snaps up to meet your gaze. "You're serious?" She squints at you, then down at her cards. "You're bluffing. You have to be." 

As you flip over the cards; two sevens, her jaw drops. No way. You're right.  

Natasha stares at your cards, slack-jawed. "I can't believe this." She chuckles in spite of herself. "You're actually good at this!" She holds her hands up in surrender, still smirking. "Okay, fine. You win. Again.”  "See I can be better than you at some things. Never underestimate me ever again!”  Natasha shakes her head, laughing. "Okay, fine. I admit, you're better than I thought you'd be." She reaches out and ruffles your hair affectionately, the smirk still plastered on her face. "But it was only because you got lucky. I'm still a way better spy. No contest."

She leans back against the side of the couch, still smiling. "But I'll give you props for your poker skills. Maybe next time, I'll let you beat me on purpose.”  You take a moment to look around the fort that she built and then look back at her forgetting that you are still hiding out on a mission that's on a pause. "Why did you do all of this? Natasha's playful smirk softens, and for a second, she looks almost—almost—vulnerable. She fidgets with the edge of a blanket before answering.  

"Because... we never got to do stuff like this before." Her voice is quieter now, less teasing. "No forts, no stupid card games, no just... being dumb" She shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but her eyes flick to yours, testing your reaction. "Figured we could both use a break from spy life for a night."  

A beat. Then she nudges you with her knee, forcing her usual smirk back in place. "Also, I really wanted to beat you at cards. Still working on that part.”  “Clearly.” You retort back at her with a sly smirk. Natasha chuckles, shaking her head as she leans back against the pillows. "Yeah, yeah, rub it in." She flicks a stray card at you playfully. "But mark my words—next time we play, you won't stand a chance."  

”For now, though... truce?" Her grin is teasing but genuine. "At least until I figure out how you keep reading my tells.” "How long are we gonna be stuck here for? Do we have to wait for the 'ok' from SHIELD to leave or something?” Natasha's grin fades as she glances at the dim light creeping in around the edges of the blankets. "Probably until morning." She sighs, sinking back into the pillows. "The storm's pretty bad out there, and comms are down. SHIELD is as in the dark as we are."  

She looks over at you, her expression thoughtful. "So, I guess we'll be stuck here all night." Another sigh, then a smirk. "Lucky for you, I brought a lot of snacks.” "I'm still bored. There is nothing to do around here.” Natasha rolls her eyes dramatically, but there's a playful glint in them. "You just wiped the floor with me at cards, and now you're complaining?" She reaches behind a pillow and pulls out a battered deck of Uno cards with a flourish. "How about a rematch? Or—" she wiggles her eyebrows, "—are you scared I'll actually win this time?"  

She starts shuffling with one hand, the cards snapping sharply between her fingers. "Loser has to do push-ups. Spy rules.”  "No I don't want to play that anymore." You say with your head resting in your hands, sulking as Natasha tries to figure out what to do next to pass the time in this treacherous snowstorm. Natasha raises an eyebrow at your sulky response, setting the cards aside with a small chuckle. "Alright, no more cards. Guess I found your kryptonite." She studies you for a moment, the silence suddenly heavy in the confined space of the fort. Then, she seems to have an idea.  

Her smile returns, sly and scheming. "Hey, you know what we could do instead?” You shrug and shake your head.  Natasha leans forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, though there's no danger of being overheard. "You trust me, right?"  

There's a playful glint in her eye as she waits for your response, hands folded in her lap to keep from fidgeting. Her gaze is expectant but... hopeful, almost. Whatever idea she's cooking up, she wants your participation. This could be good, or it could be a disaster. Knowing Natasha... probably both.  “Depends" Natasha lets out a theatrical sigh, rolling her eyes but grinning in spite of herself. "Oh, come on. You make it sound like I'm going to murder you or something." Her gaze flickers over you, assessing your hesitation. "I promise, nothing lethal. Yet."  She says jellyfishing your knee.  “Ahhh!!!" You screech out involuntarily ate the feeling. Natasha laughs, clearly enjoying seeing you squirm. "What, are you ticklish or something?" She teases, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, this could be fun..."  

She moves with lightning fast reflexes, her fingers targeting your sides as she launches a surprise tickle attack.  Her grin is downright villainous as she zeroes in on your most sensitive spots. "Come on," she taunts, laughing heartily. "Tell me, are you even a little ticklish? Please say yes." She says already knowing that the answer is yes.  "Shut up!!” "I'll take that as a yes," Natasha grins, her fingers dancing across your ribs with precision. She's clearly enjoying herself, her eyes crinkled at the corners with laughter. "Oh, this is gold. Can't believe I didn't think of this sooner." She says with a smirk. "Nat don't even think about it.” You hold your hands up in front of you in defense and in an effort to stop her from doing the inevitable. Natasha raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence despite the obvious mischief in her eyes. "Don't think about what?" She feigns confusion, her fingers still poised to tickle. "Oh, you mean *this*?" She suddenly pounces, her hands going back to your sides and ribs. The barrage is relentless, her fingers finding every spot that makes you squirm.  "Come on, admit it. This is hilarious.” "AHAHAHHAHAHAHAH NAHAHAHAT STAHAHAHP IT!!!! "What was that?" Natasha teases, her grin widening as she continues to tickle mercilessly. "Can't hear you over all that laughter! Seems like someone *really* is ticklish!" She's clearly having the time of her life, the sound of her own amusement mixing with your helpless giggling. "I SAHAHAID STOHOHOHOP TIHIHICKLIHIHNG MEHEHEHE!!!!!”  "Hmm... not sure I believe you," Natasha quips, her fingers never pausing their assault. "I think you secretly like it." She feigns a thoughtful expression, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Maybe I should just keep going until you admit it."  

She leans closer, her fingers targeting your most sensitive spots with renewed vigor. She's enjoying this far too much.  "Come on, admit it. You're loving every second of this.”  You squirm all over the place twisting and turning trying to get away from your sister's fingers to no avail. Natasha follows your every twist, her reflexes lightning-fast. She knows exactly the right spots to torment, her fingertips dancing mercilessly across your most ticklish regions.  "Oh, this is too easy." She laughs, enjoying your squirms and squeals. "You're like a trapped little mouse, and I'm the cat with its dinner."  

Your desperate wriggling only seems to fuel her delight, her smirk growing wider with each unsuccessful escape attempt. "There's no escaping now." She taunts, her fingers relentless. "I'm not a mouse!!” You shout in between giggles. "Oh really?" Natasha teases, her fingers still dancing over your ribs. "With all that writhing and squealing, you could've fooled me. You're putting a mouse to shame right now." She chuckles, watching you squirm with obvious amusement. "Then what are you, hmm? A bird trying to fly away?"  

Natasha's grip is unyielding. The more you struggle, the more she loves it. "Face it, you're completely at my mercy. Ticklish and trapped.”  "Ahahahehehehehehahahehahheahehaha!!! Natahaahahashaahah plehehease stohohohp!” You beg. Natasha finally eases up, pulling her hands away with a satisfied smirk—though she keeps them hovering nearby, clearly ready to strike again. "Oh fine," she sighs dramatically, like she’s doing you a massive favor. "But only because I’m feeling generous."  

She leans back against the pillows, arms crossed, her grin smug. "But let the record show—you begged." A beat. "...And it was adorable." She flicks your nose playfully before snagging a handful of snacks. "Now eat something before I decide you still need payback.” You pant breathlessly as you lay there next to her once she finally stopped her attack. Natasha pops a snack into her mouth, watching you recover with satisfaction. "You alright over there?" She asks, feigning innocence. "You look a bit... winded," she teases, clearly not sorry in the slightest. "Did I tire you out?” "What do you think?" you say sarcastically  still out of breath.  "I think," Natasha grins, tossing a pillow at you, "you should've been trying a little harder to escape. I mean, come on, where's all that spy training? I'm disappointed."  You roll your eyes. "Ooh, sassy." She chuckles, grabbing another couple snacks. "But seriously, I can't believe you're that ticklish. Who knew the mighty super spy had such a weakness?" She smirks, raising an eyebrow playfully. "I was expecting you to last longer before cracking.”  Finally after you catch your breath you move closer to Natasha and lean on her letting out a suppressed yawn.   As the night gets later tiredness starts to settle into both you and Natasha and eventually you both fall asleep in the fort. Hours pass, and slowly, the snowfall outside begins to slow into a gentle flutter. The fire inside the fort crackles and pops quietly, casting shadows across the room.

Natasha, still in the fort with you, sleeps peacefully with her back propped against the pillows. She's usually a light sleeper, always ready for any danger that might present itself.  

But here, tucked inside this makeshift fort, she allows herself that rare feeling of safety. In her sleep, her usual cool exterior softens; her face looks younger, less guarded.

[blackwidowfics]

New fic coming out tonight!!

What do you want it to be about?

Y/n having nightmares and hasn't been sleeping so Nat helps her out.

Nat, Yelena, and Y/n all take a beach day.

Y/n needs reassurance after she has an anxiety attack in a stressful situation.

Voting ended onJul 29

This poll is only one day.

Edit: For the poll the fix that was chosen is the one that will be posted next.

[blackwidowfics]

Is anyone else as obsessed as I am with these pictures of Flo tickling Scarlett!!!?

[blackwidowfics]

The Calm During the Storm

DO NOT COPY

Summary: There is a big thunderstorm and y/n is very scared of it, but Natasha helps her through it.

No warnings

Fluff

SFW

Words: 2838

Natasha was in her room reading a book when a distant rumble of thunder sounds off in the sky followed by a brief flash in the sky. The compound is quiet and peaceful. The guys all went on a guys trip and the only people left where Natasha; and you while Natasha was reading you were in your room watching TV. Another rumble of thunder sounds but this time a bit closer as rain starts to gently fall and pelt against the windows and roof. As the thunder gets louder Natasha heard a tiny scream from her sisters room.

Natasha's head snaps towards your room upon hearing the scream before she immediately set down her book and bolted out of her room. She quickly ran over to your door and knocked firmly. "Y/n? You okay in there?" She asked from the other side of the door.

Natasha gently pushes open the door to find you curled up under the covers, peeking out with wide eyes at the storm outside. She crosses the room with that quiet assassin grace and perches on the edge of your bed. "Thunder got you spooked?" she asks, voice warm but laced with that signature Romanoff smirk. Without waiting for an answer, she scoots closer and pokes your side teasingly. "Come on, Y/nn, you really gonna let some noisy clouds scare you?" She starts tickling your ribs playfully, clearly trying to distract you from the storm while simultaneously showing that rare affectionate side she reserves only for her sisters. "Bet I can make you laugh louder than that thunder!" “No no nohoho!” You laughed as you squirmed under the covers.

Natasha's grin turns downright mischievous as she increases her tickle attack, fingers spider-walking up your sides. "Oh that's cute—you think screaming 'no' works on the Black Widow?" she teases, expertly dodging your flailing limbs. "Y'know, when thunder gets this loud in Russia, we just—" She punctuates the sentence by blowing a loud raspberry against your cheek, dissolving into rare, carefree laughter herself. The storm outside is forgotten as she wraps you in a playful headlock, ruffling your hair. "Admit it, this is way more fun than being scared!"

“HAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAH!!”

Natasha finally relents her attack, collapsing back on the bed beside you. Her cheeks are flushed with laughter, a rarity for the usually stone-faced Avenger. The storm continues outside, but inside your room, the mood is light and playful. She drapes an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a hug. "See? Nothing to be afraid of." She lightly knocks her knuckles against your head affectionately, still snickering. Thunder and lightning strikes again extra loud this time that it shakes the windows and you huddle back under the blanket again.

"Hey, hey," Natasha soothes, her voice dropping to a gentle murmur. She wraps the blanket tighter around you both, tucking it snugly against your chin. "It's okay. I've got you." She pulls you closer, her hand rubbing slow, comforting circles on your back as the storm rages outside. In the faint light of the room, her green eyes glimmer with rare vulnerability. "You wanna hear a secret?" You shrug. Natasha leans in close, her warm breath tickling your ear. "Sometimes even Black Widows get spooked." She chuckles quietly, the admission carrying a hint of shared vulnerability. "But here's what I do." She shifts position slightly, so she's leaning against the headboard with her legs spread out. "C'mere." She pats her lap in invitation. "Trust me on this."

As you hesitantly comply, she guides you to lie down on your stomach across her legs. "Okay, now close your eyes." Her voice drips with that soothing, maternal Natasha you only hear when she's around kids. Once you comply, you feel her hands gently start kneading your shoulders, using just enough pressure to be comforting. "Told you I'd keep you safe. Now just take a deep breath...in...and out." The storm outside fades into background noise as you focus on Natasha's steadying presence and her calming massage. “That feels good” You say. Natasha lets out a satisfied hum, her fingers finding a tense knot between your shoulders. She works it out patiently, her touch both firm and gentle. "That's it," she murmurs, the low timbre of her voice lulling you into a state of tranquility. "Just relax. Let the tension fall away." Time loses its meaning as she meticulously massages your back, hitting all the sore spots you didn't even know you had. It's not just about physical comfort; it's a silent reassurance of an unwavering bond.

“I’m still scared.” Natasha can feel the tightness in your muscles, the lingering fear even as the storm begins to subside. She stops her massage momentarily, her hand resting on the small of your back. "Hey, look at me," she says quietly, her voice serious. You open your eyes to find hers gazing down at you with a mixture of worry and determination. She shifts, guiding you into a sitting position on her lap. "You still scared?" You nod.

Natasha's arms wrap around you in a firm but comforting embrace. The steady rhythm of her heartbeats against your back is grounding. She rests her chin on your head, her voice dropping to a soft murmur. "It's okay to be scared," she reassures, her fingers gently playing with your hair. "We all get afraid, even superheroes." The last part is punctuated with a hint of a chuckle. "But you know what scares me the most?" You shake your head. Natasha hesitates for a beat—something she never does in the field—before exhaling sharply through her nose. "Losing family," she admits, her grip tightening slightly. "More than any bullet, any fight." She presses her forehead lightly against yours, voice dropping to a whisper. "So trust me when I say...you being scared of thunder? That just means I get to hold onto you a little longer." She punctuates it with a quick nose-boink, that rare Natasha mischief flashing in her eyes. "Worth it."

The storm outside has quieted to a soft pitter-patter of rain against the windows. You realize your breathing has synchronized with Natasha's, the fear slowly seeping out of you. In this moment, wrapped in her strong yet tender presence, the world seems a little less daunting. You feel safe, loved. It's a small victory for the Black Widow, a secret mission to keep the storm from your heart. As you both sit there, in the quiet warmth of the room, she whispers, just loudly enough for you to hear, "Feeling better?"

Thunder crashes again and you hide back under the blankets. Natasha rolls her eyes playfully, her expression both amused and fond. "Oh, that's how it is, huh?" She sighs dramatically, pulling the covers aside to sit cross-legged beside you. "I don't know what's funnier: my little sister being scared of clouds or that you think a little fabric will save you." She smirks, gently tugging the blanket down to expose your head. Before you can protest, her hand ruffles your hair affectionately. "Enough hiding. Let's try something different." “No!” You let out a muffled shout from under the covers. Natasha can't help but chuckle at your stubbornness. "You know, for a mini agent-in-training, you're not exactly the most cooperative." She taps your hidden head scoldingly before grabbing the edge of the blanket. "Come on out. This isn't a negotiation.” She uses just enough force to pull the covers down to your shoulders. "Now sit up." You keep looking out the window at the storm.

Natasha follows your gaze to the window. The rain still pelts the glass in a rhythmic symphony. The sky is a deep indigo now, punctuated by occasional flashes of lightning. She can see the fear in your eyes, the lingering dread. Her expression softens. "Hey," she murmurs, gently taking your chin and turning your face towards her. "Eyes on me." Your heart starts racing as the storm intensifies. Natasha's sharp eyes don't miss the rapid rising and falling of your chest. Her hands move to your shoulders, giving them a light shake to regain your focus. "Hey, hey, easy," she soothes, the teasing edge gone from her voice. "Breathe with me, Y/n. In, hold it, out. Slowly." She exaggerates her own deep breaths for you to follow, her gaze steady and unwavering on yours. “No! I just wanna hide!” You say. Your panicked reply cuts through the air, and Natasha sighs heavily. But rather than pushing, she takes a moment, her eyes flicking between you and the storm outside. Then, in a move that's equal parts stern and gentle, she grabs your shoulders again, forcing you to face her fully. Her voice is firm. "Hey, listen to me now."

When you begrudgingly meet her gaze, she continues, her voice softer but no less intense. "You can't hide from storms, not the outside ones, and not the ones in here." She taps her knuckles against your chest, right over your heart. “What do you mean?” You ask her. Natasha's hands stay on your shoulders as she holds your gaze steadily, the storm almost forgotten in the background. "I mean," she begins in that same firm yet gentle tone, "inside here," she taps your chest again, "there are storms too. Fear, uncertainty, doubt. They're part of what makes you...well, you. And sometimes, they'll be loud, they'll make your heart race. But you have to face them. You can't just hide under a blanket and hope they go away." “I can try to.” You retorted. Natasha lets out a dry chuckle, equal parts fondness and exasperation. "Sure, you can try. But how's that working out for you right now?" She gives a pointed look from the covers you're still partially buried in back to your wide, fearful eyes. "Hiding just means the storms get bigger, and they hit louder when you least expect it. Sometimes...you gotta fight, not flee." “It feels like a have a rock in my belly.” You said referring to the fear while holding your stomach.

Natasha's expression softens, her stern façade melting away. She can practically see the metaphorical weight weighing down on you. "A rock, huh? Like a big, heavy knot in your stomach?" She places a hand over your abdomen, her touch gentle. Natasha exhales softly, her grip shifting to wrap both arms around you in a protective cocoon. "That's adrenaline," she murmurs, her lips quirking at one corner despite the seriousness of the moment. "Your body's way of screaming 'danger.'" She taps your nose lightly—a grounding gesture—before continuing. "But here's the fun part: we can trick it. Deep breaths first." She demonstrates again, inhaling dramatically through her nose. "Then..." Her fingers dance up your sides in a deliberately silly, feather-light tickle. "We remind it who's really in charge." The mischief in her eyes is unmistakable. "Bet you I can make that rock disappear before the next lightning strike." “Hehehehe” You giggled.

Natasha smirks victoriously as your laughter bubbles up, her fingers still spidering along your ribs in playful, unpredictable patterns. "There it is," she teases, her voice warm with triumph. "Best way to kick fear's butt? Laugh right in its face." The storm outside rumbles again, but this time she doesn't let you flinch—instead, she launches into an absurdly dramatic rendition of the chicken dance, arms flapping. "Come on, if we're loud enough, the thunder'll get jealous and leave us alone!" Her exaggerated wiggling eyebrows dare you to join the ridiculousness. “Stohohohop!!” Natasha's grin widens as you protest, her fingers relentlessly tickling your sides. "Ah, ah, too late for mercy," she chides playfully, her fingers finding their way to your ticklish belly button as she continues the tickle assault. "Laughter is the ultimate weapon against fear, remember? And I'm not stopping until that belly knot is gone!" She punctuates this declaration with a raspberry blown against your neck. "So laugh, Y/n, and laugh loudly.”

“Hahahaahahahahaahahhaah! Stahahahahap!! I’m not scared anymohohore!!!” Natasha finally stops her tickle assault, her fingers instead gently rubbing your sides as she grins triumphantly. "There we go," she murmurs, her voice filled with equal parts pride and relief. "Told you I could make the rock disappear before the next lightning strike." The storm outside is still raging, but it seems smaller in the face of your shared laughter. "Feeling a bit lighter now?" She taps your chest lightly. “Yeah a little.” You say letting the remaining giggles subside. Natasha nods, satisfied. "Good." For a moment, she studies you quietly, her gaze a mix of concern and admiration. Then, without warning, she wraps you in another tight hug, her cheek resting against the top of your head. "You know," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, "you're stronger than you give yourself credit for." The next roll of thunder is just a distant background noise now. You look out the window.

Natasha follows your gaze out the window. The rain continues to pelt against the glass, and beyond it, the sky is a canvas of dark clouds and intermittent flashes of light. The storm is still going strong. Natasha shifts slightly, pulling you closer on her lap. "It's still putting on quite the show out there, huh?" Her hand finds yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. You nod. Natasha gently pulls your focus back onto her to prevent you from fixating on the outside chaos. "Hey," she murmurs, using her free hand to lift your chin until your eyes meet hers. "No more staring out there. The storm can have the outdoors. In here," she taps your chest, "it's just you and me...and a whole lot of blankets." She winks, the corner of her mouth tugging up in a lopsided smile. She runs here nail under your chin reassuringly. Natasha's touch is both comforting and familiar, and you can almost feel the calm radiating off her. "You know, sometimes storms can be a good thing," she muses, her fingers trailing down your arm before starting the gentle massage again. "They clear the air, bring in fresh rain...and in our case, they bring you right here, with me, so I can annoy you." A small, teasing grin breaks through the serious facade. "And maybe, just maybe, help you forget everything but the sound of my voice."

You sigh as you avoid eye contact with Natasha. “The thunder reminds of… the shooting drill’s in Red Room.” You confess. Natasha's face softens the moment she hears your words. She understands immediately what you're referring to. The Red Room isn't a place associated with warm memories. The "shooting drills" mentioned were likely a grim part of your training. She exhales slowly, her hand stilling on your arm. "You remember those?" Her voice is quieter now, laced with empathy and an undertow of anger towards your past. You nod. Natasha's jaw tightens ever so slightly. The mention of the Red Room's brutal practices ignites a flicker of anger within her, and her hand grips yours a bit tighter. But as quickly as it appears, the anger is masked, replaced by a gentle understanding. She takes a deep breath before continuing, her words careful yet firm. "Those drills were… barbaric." She shakes her head, the memory clearly distasteful to her. "They weren't just training, they were...conditioning. Conditioning to fear. To react." Natasha brushes her thumb over your knuckles in slow, grounding strokes. "But here's what *they* never taught you—" Her voice drops to a whisper, intense with conviction. "Thunder is just noise. It can't hurt you. And you?" She taps your collarbone lightly, mouth quirking. "You're made of way tougher stuff than some old Red Room drill." The wind howls outside as if protesting, but she just rolls her eyes. "See? Even the storm knows I'm right." You smile slightly at her joke.

Natasha's grin widens at the tiny flicker of amusement on your face, and she nudges you with her shoulder. "There it is," she murmurs, clearly pleased. "That's the smile I was looking for." She leans back against the headboard, arms crossed, but there's no missing the warmth in her expression. "So, think you can handle the rest of this storm now? Or do I need to bring in the heavy artillery?" She wiggles her fingers threateningly, her teasing smirk promising another round of tickles if needed. You put your hands up and hold Natasha’s fingers to keep them still. “Only if you stay with me.” Natasha huffs out a laugh, but she doesn't pull her hands away. "Deal," she says, flipping her grip so her fingers wrap securely around yours. "Not like I had plans to abandon my post anyway." She tugs you back against her shoulder, her free hand reaching for the discarded blanket to drape over both of you. "Storm duty comes with mandatory cuddles. Standard Widow protocol." The mischief in her eyes is softened by something far more tender as the next roll of thunder passes—this time, neither of you flinch.

[blackwidowfics]

gofund.me/23eb9bc13

Hi guys. I just wanted to come on here and say that my family is going through a rough time financially and we could really use all the help we can get. My mom had a few strokes and my dad lost one of his jobs and hospital bills have really set us back. I linked our go fund me on here. If you want to donate, any contributions will help us. And please send this link to everyone whether it’s by text or any social media platform. Thank you so much!

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Find out what Sophia Troiano is supporting. Check out the fundraisers, nonprofits, and causes that Sophia Troiano is supporting today.

P.s new fic coming out soon!!

[blackwidowfics]

Another poll! Along with other characters I was also thinking of doing some Natasha fics with Wanda and more with Yelena. What do you want to see more of?

More with Natasha and Yelena x sister reader

Natasha x sister reader with Wanda

Voting ended onMay 16

[blackwidowfics]

So I was thinking of doing fics for other characters played by Scarlett Johansson. Here are some I was thinking of. Let me know which ones you’d like to read. I will still make them sister fics. And I’m going to list the movie that these characters are from so you can watch the movie if you want. And if you don’t know where to find the movie just ask me and I can tell you where to find it. Thanks!

Purslane Will (A love song for Bobby long)

Francesca Curtis (The perfect score)

Charlotte (Lost in Translation)

Griet (Girl with a pearl earring)

Jordan two delta (the island)

Ashley Parker (eight legged freaks)

Anna Marks (he’s just not that into you)

Voting ended onMay 16

[blackwidowfics]

Dentist PTSD

DO NOT COPY

Summary: Y/n is afraid of the dentist after having a bad experience in the Red Room and Natasha helps her through it.

No warnings

Fluff

SFW

Notes: I finally used the nickname for y/n, mouse!

Words: 2199

Y/n is afraid of the dentist since she has never been to a real one before, only the one in the Red Room. Needless to say she’s never had a positive experience with dentist’s.

Natasha sits with her younger sister waiting for the dentist to call her into the room. Y/n sits on Natasha’s lap fidgeting and picking at her fingers. Natasha gives her little sister a squeeze and plants a kiss to the top of her head.

"It's going to be fine Y/n." Natasha promises, rubbing the 8 year old’s back.

“No it won’t. It’s gonna hurt.” You whined. "I'm going to be right by your side, I promise." Natasha assures her, continuing to rub Y/n's back as she waits. “But in the Red Room it hurt a lot and they strapped me down! I’m not going in there!” Natasha's face falls, her heart nearly breaking a little. She knew how much Y/n struggled with the trauma from the Red Room and now even dentists were something she was afraid of.

"I promise, Y/N. I am not going to let anything bad happen to you. You are safe here." Natasha says as she gives her little sister another hug. “I’m still not going in there!”

Natasha sighs a little, trying not to get upset or angry at her little sister's reaction.

"Y/n, please... You need to go get your teeth checked. I know you're scared but there won't be any of those bad things here. The dentist is a good person."

She says softly, trying to encourage her little sister to go in. “Noooo” Whine again.

Natasha's patience is running thin, but she tries to remain calm.

"Y/n... I know you're afraid, but this is something we need to get done. I'm here for you, I'll hold your hand the entire time. I won't let anything bad happen to you."

Natasha is starting to get a little exasperated with her little sister's stubbornness. A part of her almost wishes Yelena was here to help out.

The young 8-year-old's bottom lip pouts and she crosses her arms. There's no way she's stepping into the room with that dentist.

"I don't want to go." She huffs, looking up at Natasha with her big, teary eyes. Just then the nurse calls your name. Natasha can see the sheer terror on her little sister's face at the sound of her name being called.

"It's time." She says softly, taking a moment before gently placing Y/n off her lap and standing up.

"Come on. I'll be right by your side. We're gonna do this together." Natasha encourages, holding out a hand for Y/n to take. You plant your feet firmly on the floor refusing to go in.

Natasha lets out a sigh, frustration starting to bubble up inside of her as she tries to keep her cool. She crouches down in front of her stubborn little sister, trying to maintain a calm tone.

"Y/n, come on."

Natasha's hand still extended for her little sister to take. You shake your head.

Natasha is struggling with her temper at this point. Her little sister can be so stubborn sometimes, especially when it comes to things such as this.

"Y/n, you have to go in."

She's trying so desperately hard not to raise her voice at the 8-year-old. She doesn't want to upset her more than she already is.

You can feel yourself start to tear up, but still you remain defiant. You're not going to give in, no matter how much your sister tries to get you to listen.

"N-no!" You sniffle, still refusing to take her hand. Natasha's expression softens immediately when she sees your tears, her frustration melting away. She crouches lower, tilting her head to catch your gaze.

"Hey, look at me," she murmurs, gently brushing a curl from your face. "I promise if anything hurts, even a little, we stop. We walk right out. But we have to try, okay? You’re so much braver than you think." She holds her hand out again, waiting. "I won’t let go."

A beat passes—then, with a wobbly breath, you finally reach for her fingers. Natasha's grip is warm and steady as she leads you toward the door, squeezing reassuringly. "That’s my girl."

You grip your sister's hand tightly as you walk through the door, your heart pounding. The dentist office is cold and sterile, with white tiles on the floor and pictures of teeth on the wall.

The dentist, a young, woman with a friendly smile, stands up from his chair.

"Ah, Y/N! Come on over here." She says, patting the dental chair, "I promise I won't bite."

You grip Natasha's hand even tighter.

Natasha's heart aches a bit at the sight of your fear, but she keeps up her encouraging expression. She leads you over to the chair, still holding your trembling hand in hers. She whispers a soft, "It's okay," as she helps you into the chair.

The dentist, still with that same disarming smile, takes a step closer to the chair. He's tall, almost imposing, but his eyes are warm and kind.

"Now, Y/n, right? Can you open your mouth for me?" You press your lips shut not budging. The dentist lets out a small chuckle, clearly used to dealing with children who are afraid of her.

He tries again, his voice gentle.

"Come on, Y/n. Just a little open. I just need to take a quick look."

Natasha squeezes your hand. "It'll be quick, sweetie," she says softly, encouraging you.

You shake your head keeping your mouth shut tightly. The dentist sighs softly. She can see that you're not going to give in easily. She takes a step back, giving you some space.

Natasha looks down at you, her heart hurting at your fear. Her hand is still holding yours, a small anchor in the sea of anxiety you're experiencing.

The dentist turns to Natasha with an understanding smile.

"She's... a little reluctant, huh?" Natasha nods, her face showing the slightest hint of frustration.

"Yes, she... She's had some... Negative experiences in the past."

She can't help the slight edge to her voice, and her eyes flicker back down to you.

"Y/n, love. Please… Just let her take a look."

She gives your hand another gentle squeeze, trying to offer some comfort. You shake your head. The dentist rubs her chin a little, clearly thinking of a new tactic. She seems to be a very patient woman, which is a good thing considering your absolute refusal to open your mouth.

Natasha is growing more and more frustrated, though she tries her best to keep her emotions hidden for your sake.

"Y/n, please... It'll only take a minute, I promise," she pleads, starting to feel like she's trying to talk to a brick wall. The dentist gets an idea and whispers something to Natasha. Natasha looks a little curious as the dentist whispers something in her ear, her ears perking up a little at his suggestion.

She turns to look at you, studying your stubborn expression for a moment before looking back at the dentist.

"You think that would work?" she whispers back, her brow furrowed in consideration. “It might get her to open her mouth.” She says.

Natasha nods, mulling over the plan in her head. Could this actually work? She knows you can be particularly difficult when you're scared.

She looks down at your face, which is still set in that stubbornly closed-mouth position.

"Alright... Alright, let's give it a shot."

She turns back to the dentist, giving him a slight nod of approval. "Let's try it."

Natasha exhales, giving your hand one last reassuring squeeze before suddenly darting her fingers toward your sides in a playful, unexpected tickle attack—just light enough to startle a reaction but not overwhelm. Her lips twitch into a smirk as she watches for your response, knowing this *always* makes you giggle.

"Gotcha!" she teases, her voice warm. "Now, that’s the smile I wanted to see. Hold onto that for the dentist, huh?"

The dentist seizes the moment, leaning in with exaggerated cheer. "Whoa! Best smile I’ve seen all day! Mind if I count those pearly whites real quick?" She holds up a tiny mirror, pretending to inspect her own reflection with comedic seriousness. "I promise, zero poking. Just counting—like treasure!"

Natasha winks at you, her fingers still hovering near your ribs in playful warning. "Team effort?" Your eyes widen in surprise when Natasha suddenly starts tickling you, a small gasp slipping through your closed lips. But then the giggles start to bubble out of you uncontrollably, your whole body shaking with laughter. You try to twist away from her fingers, but it's impossible since she's holding you in place.

The dentist takes the opportunity and quickly looks inside your mouth with the mirror while you're distracted.

Natasha grins, clearly pleased with herself, her fingers still dancing playfully near your side. "Team effort indeed." “Hehehehe!!” You laughed out. The dentist chuckles at your giggles, using the brief opening to continue her inspection, her eyes flicking between the mirror and your mouth.

Natasha continues her playful attack, her fingers dancing at your sides with a light, tickling touch. She can't help but smirk a little at the sight of you squirming and laughing.

"Oh, you thought you could escape me, huh?" she teases, her voice warm and light. "Not a chance, sweetie." “Hahahaahahhaahhaah!” Natasha grins wider, loving the sound of your giggles. She doesn't let up, though, her fingers darting and dancing across your side relentlessly.

The dentist chuckles again, amused by the scene unfolding before her.

"Don't think I've ever heard a patient giggle this much," she comments, her eyes still studying your mouth. Natasha smirks at the dentist's comment, her grin turning a little smug.

"Well, she's special."

She continues the ticklish attack, her fingers now targeting that spot just beneath your ribs, the place that always sends you into fits of uncontrollable laughter. “AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Natasha's grin widens even more, her fingers dancing mercilessly across your vulnerable sides. She's enjoying the sounds of your laughter way too much.

"Ohoho, got that spot, didn't I?" she teases, her voice filled with playful arrogance.

The dentist chuckles at the scene, clearly amused but also still managing to focus on her task. Natasha’s smirk softens into an affectionate grin as she finally eases up on the tickling, but keeps her fingers poised like little spider-legs near your ribs—just in case.

"That’s my brave girl," she murmurs, tucking a loose curl behind your ear. "See? Not so scary when we’re laughing, right?"

The dentist nods enthusiastically, lowering her mirror. "All done! And guess what? No cavities—just a champion set of teeth." She offers you a high-five. "You rocked that."

Natasha bumps your shoulder playfully. "Told you you’d survive." “I still don’t like it here.” You pouted. Natasha exhales a laugh, ruffling your curls fondly. "Yeah, yeah—I know you don’t. But guess what? Now we’re done." She tugs you off the chair with a grin. "And since you were so tough, how about we stop for milkshakes after this? My treat."

She shoots the dentist a look—half-amused, half-apologetic—as she guides you toward the door. "Next time, though? Maybe less pouting, more brave face." Her fingers wiggle near your sides again, teasing. "Or I’ll have to bring the tickle-monster back." “No! No more tickle monstering!” You say holding your hands up in defense. Natasha laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "Then no more pouting! Deal?"

She gives you a little squeeze as she ushers you down the hallway, still amused and slightly smug. "Besides..." she adds, her voice a conspiratorial whisper, "The tickle monster never really goes away. It just hides... and waits” Your eyes go wide.

Natasha grins, enjoying the slight shiver she's just provoked in you with that comment. She squeezes you again with an affectionate chuckle.

"Relax, little mouse. I'm just teasing."

She pushes open the door, the bright, outside sunlight spilling into the room.

"But seriously..." she adds, her fingers just barely dancing at your waist for a short moment, "No pouting or the tickle monster will come back. Understand?" You nod.

Natasha beams, pleased with your response. "That’s what I like to hear." She ruffles your hair playfully before steering you toward the exit. "Now, let’s get that milkshake before I change my mind about the tickle truce."

Her tone is light, but there’s a mischievous glint in her eye—just enough to keep you on your toes. "Double chocolate, right? Or are we feeling wild and going for strawberry today?" “Strawberry!” Natasha nods, an approving smile on her lips. "Strawberry it is. Can't go wrong with that."

She steers you out of the dentist's office and toward the street, still keeping her arm looped around your shoulders. The bright sunshine feels warm against your faces as you walk.

She glances down at you, her expression softening a bit.

"Proud of you, mouse." She murmurs, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You were a real trooper back there."

[blackwidowfics]

Headcanons part 4!!

[blackwidowfics]

Headcanons part 3!!

[blackwidowfics]

Headcanons part 2! Enjoy!!

[blackwidowfics]

These are headcanons from a few TikTok posts that the user kept deleting. Some of the posts I requested and they removed them after a little bit and when I told the user that I couldn’t find the posts they put them back up but only temporarily. So! I took screenshots of them and thought I’d share them on here! Enjoy!! 🩷

[blackwidowfics]

Training Ground Giggles

DO NOT COPY

Summary: Natasha is training Y/n in the avengers training room and things take a turn.

Sister fluff

SFW

Notes: two fics in one week!

AU

Words: 3201

“Again.” Her voice was calm but commanding, cutting through the quiet training room. You groaned, dragging yourself back up from the mat, ribs aching from her last sweep.

“Nat, I’m not a super-soldier,” you muttered, brushing sweat from your face.

“No excuses,” she shot back, a teasing smirk tugging at her lips. “You want to learn, you listen.”

You lunged, fast—but not fast enough. Natasha moved like water, catching your wrist and flipping you flat on your back again. The breath left your lungs, replaced by the sound of her low chuckle.

“Better,” she said, crouching down beside you. Her voice softened just enough to make your pulse quicken. “But you’re still overthinking. Don’t anticipate—feel.”

Your gaze met hers, green eyes sharp and unyielding. The air between you shifted, tension crackling in the space that words couldn’t fill.

“Feel, huh?” you managed, half a laugh, half a breath.

trying to mask the way your pulse quickened Natasha's lips curved into a dangerous smile "Yes. Like this” She straddled you suddenly, pinning your wrists above your head. Your breath caught, Her face hovered inches from yours and you swore she was enjoying the way you squirmed under her grip.

"Lesson one," she whispered, her hair brushing your cheek. "Never let your guard down. Even with someone you trust." You swallowed hard. "And what's lesson two?” Her smirk widened. "You'll have to earn that one." “What?! Come on Nat gimme a break we’ve been training for over an hour.”

She laughed at that, shaking her head, her grip on your wrists unrelenting. "What, tired already?" she teased. "I thought you wanted to learn.” You rolled your eyes, still not quite able to control the way your heart raced with her so close. "I do. But if you keep knocking me down with no help, I'm not going to learn anything but how the mats feel against my face." Natasha chuckled, her tone still playful but her grip softening, her thumb almost tracing a gentle circle against your wrist. "Alright, alright,"she relented, shifting slightly, her knee pressed against your hip, pinning you more securely. The contact made your breath hitch, but you hoped she didn't notice.

Her gaze lingered on your face for a moment, studying you with that same intensity you associated with her missions. "You tense up too much," she murmured, her voice dropping a few decibels. "Relax." “I can’t exactly relax when you’re on top of me!” You grunt out. Natasha's smirk deepened, clearly enjoying your flustered state. "Tch. That’s exactly the problem," she said, her voice low and teasing. "You need to focus—even when the situation is... distracting."

She shifted her weight slightly, just enough to prove she could pin you without effort, her gaze sharp but amused. "Breathe. React. Don’t let adrenaline control you." A pause, then she added, almost softer, "Or do I need to make this harder?"

Her fingers flexed against your wrists—not painfully, but enough to remind you who was in charge. The challenge in her tone was clear. Either you’d learn to work through the distraction, or she’d keep pushing until you did. You take a deep breath add them in one swift move you use your strength to push your older sister off of you with your legs.

Natasha's eyes widened just slightly as you managed to catch her off guard, using her own momentum to toss her off you. She hit the mat with a soft thud, surprise briefly flickering across her face before it melted into approval. "Not bad," she conceded, pushing herself up on her elbows. Her gaze was calculating, almost impressed. "Where'd you learn that from?" “I’ve seen you do it to Yelena during your sparring sessions.” Natasha chuckled, a low, amused sound. "Sneaky," she murmured, climbing back to her feet with the fluid grace of a predator. "Watching and learning from the sidelines, huh?"

Her eyes roamed over you, appraising. "That's a good tactic." There was a pause, and then she added, a wry smile playing at the corner of her lips, "...But that won't work twice." “What’s that supposed to mean?” "It means," she said, slowly circling you now, each movement calculated, "that I won't be caught off guard again."

Her gaze was locked on you, studying your every move. "I know your tricks now," she continued, the teasing from before replaced by a steely seriousness. "You used my momentum and the element of surprise. It worked once, but it won't work twice."

She stopped suddenly in front of you, a sly smirk on her face. "Think you can surprise me again?" “Why are you so tough on me? I’ve seen you train with Wanda and Kate and you’re never this hard on them. And they’re older than me! I feel like you’re being harder on me because I’m your sister.”

A flicker of something unreadable passed over Natasha's face at your words, but it vanished just as quickly, replaced by her usual cool composure.

"It's not about you being my sister," she said firmly, her voice steady. "It's about you being capable. Age doesn't matter."

She took a step closer, her gaze meeting yours with a fierce intensity. "I train you harder because I see your potential,Y/n. Because I know what you're capable of. And I won't let you half-ass this just because you're the baby of the family." You furrow your brow. “But why am I the only one getting this ‘special treatment’ from you?”

Natasha's lips pressed into a tight line, her jaw clenching. You were getting to her, and she knew it. She let out a frustrated exhale.

"You want the real answer?" she asked, her voice low. "You want to know why I'm harder on you than those two?" “Yes!” You demanded. Natasha took a breath, visibly struggling to keep her cool. "You're young, naive, inexperienced. You still have this… this innocence about you." Her gaze bored into yours. "You still have so much to learn about the world, about how dangerous it is. And I refuse to let you go into that world unprepared, even if it means being harder on you than others."

She took another step closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "You're my little sister. And I'm not gonna let anything happen to you." Her words were fiercely protective, almost desperate. “Wow. Who knew you were so mushy?” You asked with a teasing tone am a smirk. Natasha's eyes narrowed—but there was a flicker of warmth there too, betraying her. She exhaled sharply through her nose, shaking her head.

"Careful," she warned, but her lips twitched despite herself. "I can still drop you on your back in half a second."

She reached out, flicking your forehead lightly just enough to sting. "And for the record, you started it. Talking about feelings like some kind of" She cut herself off, feigning exasperation. "Just... don’t get used to it." The unspoken ‘I love you’ hung between you, loud as gunfire. She’d deny it if you pointed it out. But then again, you didn’t need her to say it. Not when she showed it like this. You push her hand away from your head. Natasha caught your wrist mid-motion, grip firm but not harsh, and raised an eyebrow. "What was that for?"

Her tone was dry, but there was amusement in the tilt of her lips. "You push me away now, but I'm still the one teaching you how to not get knocked out by the first enemy you meet." She gave your wrist a light squeeze before releasing it.

"Think of it as tough love," she added, stepping back into a ready stance. "Now. Again."

The smirk returned—a challenge. "Unless you're afraid of a little extra attention from your big sister?" “Bring it on!”

Natasha's smirk deepened as you accepted her challenge, satisfaction glinting in her eyes. "That's the spirit."

She moved suddenly, her movements swift and calculated—but you were faster. You evaded her grasp, ducking and moving to the side.

She chuckled, a low, appreciative sound, and pivoted easily, following your movements like a dance.

"You're getting better," she conceded. "But not good enough."

She feinted left, then swiftly shifted her weight, going for your legs. You managed to sidestep this time, avoiding the sweep. “Woa-oof! Hey!!” Natasha swept your legs out from under you with a swift, fluid motion. You hit the mat with a grunt, pinned by her weight. Her smirk was infuriatingly smug.

"Too slow," she taunted, her gaze locked with yours. "You let your guard down."

Her grip on your wrists was firm but not painful, her thighs on either side of your hips, effectively trapping you. You could feel the heat of her body against yours, the way she breathed—slow and steady. “Hey! Get off of me!!” “I can’t do anything when you’re pinning my wrists!” Natasha tilted her head, green eyes glinting with challenge. "Wrists pinned, yes. But you’ve still got elbows, knees—even your forehead if you’re desperate."

She leaned closer, voice dropping to a taunting murmur. "Or are you waiting for me to go easy on you?"

Her smirk was pure provocation. "Prove me wrong. Show me you can get out of this."

You try to squirm away.

Natasha let out a low laugh, watching you struggle with obvious amusement. "Oh, come on," she teased, her voice laced with playful exasperation. "Squirming like that won’t get you free—it just makes this easier for me."

She tightened her grip, though still careful not to actually hurt you. "Use your leverage. You’re smaller, faster. Find a weak point and exploit it."

Her smirk widened, sharp and knowing. "Or are you just enjoying the attention?"

“Weak point huh? Okay then.” With that in mind you take your feet and shake them into Natasha’s ribs just enough to weaken her resolve enough to make her let go of your wrists. Then you go in for the attack and you tickle at the sides and belly. “How’s this for exploiting your weakness!” Natasha's eyes widened with surprise and then filled with mock outrage at your clever maneuver. "You did not just—" Her words were cut off in a sudden burst of laughter as you began to tickle her.

She tried to swat your hands away, but you were relentless, mercilessly targeting her most ticklish spots.

"No, wait—no no no—" her voice was breathless between fits of giggles. "That's—n-not fair—stop!" She squirmed, her stoic facade crumbling as she tried, and failed, to shield her exposed midriff from your attack. “All’s fair in a battle in real life. Like you told me.” You say as you continue to tickle her.

Natasha let out a sharp, breathless laugh, twisting under your relentless fingers. Her usual composure was completely shattered—hair mussed, face flushed, eyes bright with mirth.

"Okay—okay, fine," she gasped, half-heartedly swatting at your hands. "You made your point!" She wriggled, narrowly escaping your grasp and rolling away with an uncharacteristically graceless thud onto the mat.

Propping herself up on her elbows, she shot you a look—equal parts exasperated and impressed. "Sneaky move," she admitted, still catching her breath. "But don’t get too cocky."

The playful warning in her tone was undermined by the fact that she hadn’t quite stopped laughing yet. “Oh crap!” Natasha chuckled at your response, shaking her head lightly. Her breathing was still uneven, a clear indication of her recent bout of laughter.

"Yeah, oh crap is right," she teased, rolling back to her feet with a fluid motion. She looked a bit disheveled, stray strands of hair clinging to her face, but she wore her amusement unabashedly.

"Nice counterattack," she conceded. "But remember, I've been doing this a lot longer than you. I've got tricks you've never even dreamed of."

You start to back access from her knowing what she’s about to do. Natasha chuckled at your obvious attempt to put some distance between you. "Running already Y/n?" she teased, her expression a mix of amusement and challenge. "Afraid I'll get the upper hand again?"

She started to slowly circle around you, much like a hunter stalking its prey. Her movements were almost lazy, but there was an underlying tension, a barely noticeable readiness in her eyes.

"You know—" she began, a slow smile curving her lips. “I thought of another weakness you've got." “Nat? Don’t even think about it!” You say still backing away from her. A sly grin spread across Natasha's face at your words. "And why not?" she asked, feigning innocence. "You exploited my ticklish spot, it's only fair I return the favor."

She continued her slow, calculating approach, her steps almost soundless against the mat. "Unless," her tone dropping to a taunting whisper, "you're scared."

“Natasha, don’t do it!” Natasha smirked, clearly relishing your increasingly panicked reaction. "Come on," she teased, stepping even closer, now just a few feet away. "You can't hide it forever. Sooner or later—"

She lunged suddenly, her movements fluid and lightning-quick. She aimed for a very specific area—the crook of your neck, where she knew you were extremely ticklish. “Ahaha Natasha nohoho!” You laughed out in a bark as you scrunched your neck and wiggled around. Natasha didn't let up, fingers dancing lightly along the sensitive spot just below your ear. Her grin was downright wicked.

"Should've thought twice before starting this," she teased, laughter threading through her voice as you squirmed under her relentless attack. "You had the upper hand—briefly—but now?"

She punctuated the statement with a particularly effective tickle to your ribs, barely holding back her own laughter. "Now you're at my mercy." “HAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOHOHO STAHHAAHAHAP!!!!” Natasha now had you pinned to the training mat and is viciously tickling you in every weak point she knows.

Natasha was practically gleaming with triumph. She had you completely pinned and was absolutely unrelenting. Fingers dancing mercilessly over your most ticklish spots, she seemed to have found her groove.

Every squirm, shriek, or plea only seemed to egg her on further. She leaned down, smirk still in place, voice low and taunting. "Told you I had tricks up my sleeve," she murmured, enjoying your helpless squirming to no end. "How's it feel, baby sister?"

You try to fight back but it’s no use, she’s bigger and stronger than you are so it was quite hard. Natasha held you firmly in place with ease, her grip steady and unyielding. She chuckled at your fruitless attempts to fight back, clearly relishing the power dynamic.

"Struggle all you like Y/n," she teased, fingers still dancing over your vulnerable spots. "You're not going anywhere until I say so."

She wasn't even out of breath, despite the prolonged scuffle. It was obvious she was in complete control. Your helpless writhing and laughter only heightened her smug satisfaction. “NATASHAHAHAHA PLEASE STAHAHAP!!! MERCY MERCY!!!” You beg between laughter. Natasha's only response was a low, amused chuckle. Her fingers continued their relentless assault, seemingly everywhere at once. "Mercy? Oh, no. Not happening."

She shifted her weight a bit, effectively pinning you even more solidly under her, not missing a beat in her ruthless tickling. She savored your helpless pleas, her smirk growing wider with each breathless giggle.

"Consider this a lesson learned, little sister," she said mockingly. "Never start something you can't finish." “NOHOHOHOHO!! PLEASE I’M BEGGING YOU AHAHA YOU WIHIHIN!!!!!” You pleaded.

Natasha's smile widened at your desperate pleas, but her fingers never slowed their relentless assault. "Begging for mercy, now, are we?" she taunted, her voice filled with mocking amusement.

She leaned in a bit closer, her ticklish onslaught continuing without pause. "You should've thought about that before you decided to use my weakness against me."

You could hear her chuckling now, clearly enjoying having you at her mercy. "Maybe next time you'll remember that I play to win."

“STAHAHAHAHAHAP ITS TOHOHOO MUCH!!! I CANT TAHAHAKE IT ANYMORE HAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAAH HEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!”

You kick and squirm as if you’re on fire but wherever you turn Natasha’s fingers follow in sync.

Natasha finally relented—but only barely—her fingers slowing to a light, teasing wiggle instead of full-blown tickling. Her grin was utterly smug.

"Oh? That's the limit already?" she taunted, though her touch gentled further. "And here I thought you had way more stamina than this."

She pulled back just enough to let you catch your breath, but the gleam in her eyes promised she wasn’t done yet. "You’re lucky I’m feeling generous."

A pause. Then, softer, but still dripping with mischief—

"...For now." You lay there sprawled out and breathless. Natasha watched you with an air of satisfaction, enjoying the sight of you breathless and spread out, flushed and weary. The smirk on her face was still there, but it had softened at the edges, hinting at a touch of genuine fondness beneath her teasing demeanor.

She shifted a bit, settling back on the mat, though still close enough to touch. She reached out, poking your side with a light finger.

"You know you look ridiculous right now, right?" she said, the words coming out a bit more affectionate than intended. “Don’t” pant “care.” A soft, genuine laugh escaped Natasha at your response. She rolled her eyes, but the fondness hadn't left her expression.

"Of course you don't," she replied, shaking her head. "Stubborn as ever."

She nudged you playfully, still smirking. "But you do look pretty ridiculous all breathless and sprawled on the mat like a starfish."

“Help me up?” You ask holding your arm out to the older girl.

Natasha's smirk softened at your request, and she nodded, reaching out to take your hand and pull you up. "Yeah, yeah."

She helped you to your feet with a firm, steady grip, her strength making the task almost effortless. Once you were upright, she didn't let go immediately, still holding onto your hand loosely.

"You good?" she asked, her tone shifting from teasing to gently concerned. “Yeah, thanks.” You replied. Natasha gave a small, approving nod. "Good." She finally let go of your hand, though her fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary—her version of comfort.

She stretched her arms overhead, rolling her shoulders as if to shake off the exertion. "Next time, maybe think twice before trying to exploit my weak spots," she said dryly, though there was no real bite to it.

A beat passed, then she added, quieter—almost reluctant—"But... not bad, honestly. You learn fast."

The praise was rare, but genuine. And coming from her, that meant something. “Thanks Nat.” You say with a smile. Natasha’s smirk softened—just barely—into something that almost resembled a real smile. She reached out, ruffling your hair in a way that was equal parts teasing and affectionate.

"Don’t let it go to your head," she warned, but there was no real edge to it. "You’ve still got a long way to go before you can take me down for real."

She turned, heading for the door, but paused just long enough to glance back. "Rest up. Tomorrow, we go again."

The challenge in her tone was unmistakable. But so was the quiet pride.

[blackwidowfics]

Running From Responsibility

DO NOT COPY

Summary: Natasha is teaching Y/n responsibility in not giving up while they are running for part of her training.

Fluff

SFW

Notes: I’ll releasing another fic like this one where Natasha and Y/n are training in the avengers training room.

Words: 1505

Natasha had just started training her younger sister and today was running. “Come on,Y/n, a little faster! Pick it up a bit.” She says as she runs beside her younger sibling. “Nat I can’t I can’t run anymore!” You say panting. “Nonsense. Your stamina can last longer than this, keep going.” She encourages her younger sister, but is also quite hard on her.

“No I can’t my my side hurts.” You whine while holding you left side. Natasha slows her pace slightly to match yours, keeping a firm but encouraging tone. "Breathe through it, Y/nn. In through the nose, out through the mouth. You've got this - focus on my voice and just keep moving." She taps your shoulder lightly. "We'll walk for thirty seconds, then pick it back up. That stitch will pass." “No no I can’t Tasha. No more running.” You say still out of breath. Natasha stops running entirely, turning to face you with her hands on her hips. Her expression softens just slightly, though her tone remains firm.

"Hey, look at me. You can. You're tougher than this little cramp, I know you are. Breathe—deep breaths, in and out—while I count to ten, then we'll jog easy the rest of the way home. Deal?"

She holds out a hand, waiting for Peyton to take it, her gaze steady. "Romanoff’s don't quit mid-run. Especially not my sister. C’mon you just need some motivation!” You look at her confused. “What do you mean?!” Natasha sighs, her eyes never leaving yours. "You heard me. Motivation. And I know exactly how to get you going."

A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth, and she leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a low whisper. "But you have to promise not to get mad at me.” “Okay but why would I get mad at you?” The younger girl asks still confused. Natasha suddenly darts forward, fingers wiggling menacingly "Tickles if you don’t start running again in three… two…" Her smirk widens, green eyes glinting with playful challenge.

"Or do I need to remind you what happened last time you ignored my countdown?" She takes a deliberate step closer, her hands hovering—ready to strike if you don’t move. Your eyes go wide as you see her getting closer to you. “No no no! Get away from me!!” You say as you start running away from you’re tickling fingers.

Natasha gives a victorious grin as she begins matching her pace to yours, easily keeping up with her younger sibling despite the shorter legs.

"There you go! See, I knew my little motivation technique would get you moving again." She lets out a low laugh, thoroughly enjoying teasing her sibling.

"And don't you dare slow down now." She adds, her hand sneaking closer towards your waist. “Natasha I can’t keep running for much longer I’m running out of breath!” You say while breathlessly running away from your sister.

Natasha's smirk softens, her competitive nature taking a backseat to her concern for her sibling.

"Okay, alright, take a breather." She says, slowing their pace to a light jog. She glances at your face, noting the exhaustion and exertion there.

"You've done well, Y/n. We're almost there." She encourages, her hand moving to give her little sister a firm pat on the back. "Just a few hundred meters more." Hearing that your eyes go wide and you stop in your tracks and flop onto the ground lying on your back. Natasha stops as well, a mix of surprise and amusement flashing across her face as y/n flops onto the ground. She raises an eyebrow, hands on her hips "Uh, what are you doing down there, Y/n?"

She walks over, standing above you with a half-teasing, half-concerned look. "Don't tell me you're giving up already?"

“Yeah I’m giving up.” I say breathlessly.

Natasha exhales sharply through her nose, shaking her head—but there's no real irritation behind it, just exasperated fondness. She crouches down beside Peyton, nudging her lightly with a boot.

"Romanoff’s don't give up." She folds her arms, but her tone lacks bite. "Up. Now. Or I will drag you the rest of the way by your ankles. Your choice."

Her lips twitch, though, betraying the threat as mostly bluff—mostly.

Panting “No, Nat I’m done. No amount of nudging or threats or tickling will make me run more.”

A long-suffering sigh escapes Natasha as she considers what she thinks to be her last resort. She shifts into a seated position on the ground, leaning back on her hands and eyeing her little sister.

"You're absolutely determined to be stubborn about this, aren't you, Y/n?" There's a hint of affection in her voice, though, a mix of irritation and love born from sibling relationships everywhere.

She reaches out, poking your shoulder gently. "You're gonna make me play dirty, huh?" “Mmmm” you groan. "Alright, you asked for it." Natasha's expression transforms from exasperated to mischievous as she leans over you. Her fingers hover over her sister's sensitive sides, a clear warning.

"Last chance to change your mind, Y/n." She warns, her tone light—though there's a glint of determination in her eyes. "Because I'm about to tickle you so hard you'll forget about your exhaustion real fast." “I told you no amount of teasing or tickling will make me run more.” You state still laying in the ground. Natasha grins, unphased Y/n’s defiance. She scoots closer, her fingers now mere inches from Y/n’s sides.

"You say that now, but your reaction will soon be different, my adorable little sister." Her voice lowers, taking on a playful yet menacing tone. "And remember: you brought this on yourself."

And with that, her fingers descend, rapidly drumming and tickling your sides, aiming for all her sensitive spots without mercy. You start giggling lightly. Natasha grins triumphantly, not letting up on the tickling as you starts to giggle. Her fingers dance mercilessly over ribs, her voice laced with playful victory.

"Uh-oh, Y/nn, sounds like someone’s very ticklish today!" She teases, pausing just long enough to poke your nose. "Now, what was that about ‘no amount of tickling’ working?" Her smirk widens. "Because I definitely heard laughter and that’s basically surrender."

She leans in, fingers poised for another attack. "So, are we running again, or do I have to remind you how ruthless I can be?"

“I’m not gohohona ruhuhun!! Hahahaha tihickile me all you wahahant!! Ahahahahah!” You retort out through laughter as you squirm on the ground. Natasha gives a full-belly laugh as she witnesses your defiant yet futile attempt to speak through her giggles. "Oh, you're so determined, aren't you, y/n? But I'm afraid your resolve is crumbling."

She intensifies the tickling, adding squeezes and gentle pinches to the mix, targeting all her little sister's known sweet spots in a ruthless dance. Her expression is a mix of affection, amusement, and determination. "You can keep trying to resist, but the tickling will win, my stubborn little sister.

“Nahahat please!!!!” You plead between giggles. Natasha slows the tickling—but doesn’t stop completely—her fingers still skittering lightly over your ribs as she leans in with a victorious smirk.

“Begging now? That’s new.” Her voice drips with playful satisfaction. “But I warned you—I don’t lose. So.” She flicks her gaze toward the path ahead, then back to Y/n’s flushed face. “Do I get to hear ‘Fine, Nat, I’ll run!’ or do we keep testing your tickle tolerance?” Her thumbs press just below your ribs, a silent threat. “Choose wisely.” “Can’t we heheh just walk bahahack?!?”

Natasha pretends to consider the plea, her smile widening slightly. She rubs slow, teasing circles on your belly with her thumbs, pretending to debate her answer. Her fingers remain poised, ready to pounce again.

"Hmm, let me think." She taps her chin, her voice dripping with false thoughtfulness. "I suppose I could allow a compromise. If you promise me something first." “What?”

Natasha leans in, her fingers still hovering dangerously near your sides, but her smirk shifts into something softer—almost coaxing.

“Promise me no more flopping dramatically on the ground mid-run.” She pokes your shoulder lightly. “And that next time, you’ll at least try to push through the burn instead of surrendering to the sidewalk.”

Her eyes glint—playful but serious. “Deal?” She raises an eyebrow, waiting. “Or do I need to resume motivational tactics?” Her fingers twitch pointedly. “Deal!” You promise. Natasha grins, triumphant, and finally relents, pulling her hands away—though not without giving your side one last teasing poke.

“Atta girl.” She ruffles Peyton’s hair before standing, offering a hand to haul her up.“Now, walking it is. But don’t think this means I’ll go easy on you next time.” Her tone is warm, though, as she nudges Peyton forward with a shoulder bump. “Move those legs, little sister. Slowly doesn’t mean stopping.” You smile at your older sister as you both walk in sync.

[blackwidowfics]

Hey mir ist noch eine Fanfiction eingefallen falls du sie schreiben möchtest.

Der Reader ist die kleine Schwester von Natasha und Yelena und wurde auf ihre erste Party eingeladen und beide haben nein zu ihr gesagt das sie nicht hingehen darf weil sie Abends ist.

Der Reader schleicht sich heimlich raus und Nat & Yelena erwischen sie dabei und bestrafen sie indem sie den Reader zu Todekitzeln.

Kate hört das Lachen und ist entsetzt als sie hört das ihre beste Freundin oder Freund ohne sie auf eine heimliche Party wollte und hilft Nat & Yelena den Reader ordentlich durch zu kitzeln.

Wäre echt cool wenn du die Fanfiction länger machst ich liebe deine Fanfictions.

Lass dir Ruhig Zeit.

Hardly a Party

DO NOT COPY

SFW

Words: 1619

A/N: This was so much fun to write. I love these requests that I get you guys are so creative with these ideas! I hope you enjoy!

Request translated from German:

(Hey, I just thought of another fanfiction idea, in case you'd like to write it. The Reader is Natasha and Yelena's little sister; she was invited to her first party, but both of them told her she wasn't allowed to go because it was taking place in the evening. The Reader sneaks out secretly, but Nat and Yelena catch them in the act and punish them by tickling the Reader to death. Kate hears the laughter and is horrified to learn that her best friend—whether male or female—intended to sneak off to a party without her; she then joins Nat and Yelena in giving the Reader a thorough tickling. It would be really cool if you made the fanfiction longer—I love your fanfictions. Feel free to take your time.)

The apartment was unusually quiet.Too quiet.

Y/n stood in the middle of her room, staring at her reflection like she was about to step onto a stage. She adjusted her outfit for the fifth time, smoothing it down, then fluffing her hair, then immediately messing with it again

“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “Totally normal. Not suspicious at all.”

Earlier that evening, both Natasha and Yelena had given her a very firm no.

“No parties,” Natasha had said calmly, arms crossed, that look in her eyes that meant she already knew Y/n would try something anyway.

“Especially at night,” Yelena added, pointing dramatically. “Night is when bad decisions are made. I know this from experience.”

Y/n had nodded. Smiled. Pretended to agree.

And now—well.

Now she was climbing out her window.

She had one leg over the ledge when

“Going somewhere?”

Y/n froze.

Slowly… painfully slowly… she turned her head.

Natasha was leaning against the wall, completely relaxed, like she’d been there the entire time.

Yelena sat cross-legged on Y/n’s bed, grinning like she’d just won the lottery.

“…No?” Y/n tried.

Yelena clapped once. “Ah, yes. The classic ‘half-out-the-window but going nowhere’ technique.”

Natasha pushed off the wall and walked over, raising an eyebrow. “Care to explain?”

Y/n scrambled back inside, nearly tripping over herself. “Okay, look, it’s not a big deal—just a small party—like, tiny. Microscopic.”

“At night,” Natasha said.

“With people,” Yelena added.

“Without telling us,” Natasha finished.

Y/n winced. “…When you say it like that, it sounds worse.”

“It is worse,” Yelena said cheerfully, hopping off the bed. “But don’t worry. We have punishment.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “Punishment?”

Natasha cracked a faint smile. “Nothing serious.”

That should’ve been reassuring… It wasn’t.

Five minutes later, Y/n was pinned on the couch.

“This is so unfair!” she protested, trying (and failing) to twist away.

“You tried to sneak out,” Yelena said, grabbing one of her wrists. “Very dramatic. Very disrespectful.”

Natasha took the other wrist with ease. “Also predictable.”

Y/n blinked. “…Wait.”

Yelena’s grin widened. “Oh no.” You whined “Oh yes.”

The first poke to her side made Y/n jolt like she’d been electrocuted.

“NO—!”

Too late.

Yelena immediately went in for rapid, merciless scribbles along her sides while Natasha kept her arms securely pinned.

“Nat—Natasha—please—this is cruel—!” Y/n gasped, already dissolving into laughter.

Natasha tilted her head, almost thoughtful. “Sneaking out was also cruel.”

“I didn’t even leave yet!” Y/n squeaked, kicking her legs as she tried to squirm away.

“Intent,” Yelena said. “Very important.”

Y/n burst into uncontrollable laughter as Yelena switched tactics, dragging her fingers lightly up and down her ribs. “NO—no—stop!”

“Stop?” Yelena echoed innocently. “But we are just getting started.”

That’s when the front door opened.

“Hey, I brought snacks—”

Kate stopped mid-sentence.

She took in the scene: Y/n trapped on the couch, laughing uncontrollably, Natasha holding her still, Yelena mid-tickle attack.

“…Wow,” Kate said. “I missed something.”

Y/n reached out desperately. “KATE—HELP!”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “Help you… or help them?”

Y/n froze.Yelena gasped dramatically. “Wait. Kate. Did you know she was going to a party?”

Kate blinked. “Party?” Silence.

Y/n slowly turned her head. “…Don’t.”

Kate crossed her arms. “You were going to a party. Without me.”

“…Maybe?” Natasha exhaled softly, like this was confirming everything.

Yelena shook her head in mock disappointment. “This betrayal runs deep.”

Kate set the snacks down very carefully.Then she smiled. “Oh, I’m definitely helping.”

“NO—NO, KATE—!” Too late again.

Kate hopped onto the couch beside them, immediately going for Y/n’s other side. “You know, I feel personally offended.”

“I was gonna text you—!” Y/n tried, laughter breaking every word.

“After you got there?” Kate teased, wiggling her fingers along Y/n’s ribs.

Y/n shrieked with laughter, completely overwhelmed now. “I’M SORRY—!”

Yelena leaned in closer. “Apology not accepted yet.”

Natasha, still holding her wrists, smirked slightly. “You should’ve known better.”

Y/n kicked helplessly, laughter nonstop, completely outnumbered. “THIS IS—THIS IS TOO MUCH—!”

Kate grinned. “That’s kind of the point.”

After what felt like forever (and was probably only a few minutes), they finally let up.

Y/n collapsed against the couch, completely out of breath, hair a mess, face flushed.

“I hate all of you,” she mumbled weakly.

Yelena patted her shoulder. “No, you love us.”

“…I do,” Y/n admitted.

Kate flopped down next to her. “Next time, you invite me.”

Natasha crossed her arms again, but there was a softness in her expression now. “And next time, you don’t sneak out.”

Y/n sighed dramatically. “Fine.”

Yelena leaned in with a mischievous glint. “Good. Because next punishment might be worse.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “WORSE?!”

Kate smirked. “Oh yeah. We can get creative.”

Y/n groaned, covering her face. “I’m never leaving this house again.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that.”

And just like that, the apartment filled with laughter again—this time, without any escape attempts.

The laughter slowly faded, leaving the room warm and a little messy.

Y/n was still sprawled across the couch, breathing hard, while Kate reached over to grab her snacks again.

“Okay,” Kate said between bites, “that was incredible. Slightly terrifying, but incredible.”

Y/n groaned, dragging a pillow over her face. “I’m never trusting any of you again.”

“Lies,” Yelena said immediately. “You have no choice.”

Kate grinned, then stood up, stretching. “Alright, I’m gonna grab something from the kitchen. You guys… try not to start round two without me.”

Y/n peeked out from under the pillow. “There is no round two.”

Yelena wiggled her fingers.

Y/n immediately covered her face again. “I regret everything.”

Kate laughed as she headed out of the room, her footsteps fading down the hall.

The moment she disappeared, the energy shifted. Quieter. More still.

Yelena didn’t move right away. She stayed perched on the armrest, watching Y/n—really watching her this time.

Natasha noticed the change immediately.

“What is it?” she asked.

Yelena hesitated, then frowned slightly. “I do not understand something.”

Y/n groaned into the pillow. “That sounds like a problem for later.”

“No,” Yelena said, more serious now. “Now.”

Y/n slowly lowered the pillow, blinking up at her. “…Okay?”

Yelena tilted her head. “Why do you want to go out so much?”

Y/n froze.

Natasha’s gaze sharpened just a little, shifting to her.

“You’ve been asking more,” Natasha added quietly. “Pushing more.”

Y/n sat up slowly, suddenly unsure what to do with her hands. “It’s not… a big deal.”

Yelena crossed her arms. “It is big enough that you try to sneak out window.”

“…That was one time.”

“Tonight is one time,” Yelena corrected. “Other times, you try door.”

Y/n winced. “Okay, wow, you’ve been keeping track?”

“Yes.”

Natasha didn’t smile, but there was the faintest hint of it in her eyes.

“Y/n,” she said, softer now, “talk to us.”

That did it.

Y/n exhaled, shoulders dropping a little. “It’s not just about the party.”

Neither of them interrupted.

Y/n glanced between them, then looked down. “You both go out all the time. Missions, work… you have your own lives.”

Yelena frowned slightly. “That is not same.”

“I know,” Y/n said quickly. “I’m not saying I want that. I just…” She paused, searching.

The room felt smaller somehow. Quieter.

“I feel like I’m always the one staying behind,” she said finally. “Like I’m the kid you have to watch instead of someone who gets to actually do things.”

Yelena’s expression shifted—confusion giving way to something more thoughtful.

Natasha’s posture softened, just slightly.

“I just wanted something normal,” Y/n continued, her voice quieter now. “A party, friends, music… something that’s mine.”

Silence settled between them.

Yelena looked down at her hands. “You think we see you as child?”

Y/n hesitated, then gave a small shrug. “Sometimes.”

That lingered.

Natasha stepped closer, resting a hand lightly on the back of the couch. “That’s not why we said no.”

Y/n looked up at her.

“It’s not about control,” Natasha said. “It’s about safety.”

“I can handle a party,” Y/n said—not defensive, just honest.

Yelena sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “It is not party. It is… everything around it. People we do not know. Situations that change.”

Natasha nodded. “We’ve seen how quickly things can go wrong.”

Y/n studied them more carefully this time.

“You’re not just being strict,” she murmured.

“No,” Natasha said.

Yelena shook her head. “We are being worried.”

That landed differently.

Y/n exhaled slowly. “Okay… yeah. I get that.”

A small pause.

Then Natasha spoke again. “But you’re not wrong either.”

Y/n blinked. “Wait—what?”

“You should have things that are yours,” Natasha said. “Normal things.”

Yelena nodded, slower this time. “Yes. Normal is… good. Strange, but good.”

Despite herself, Y/n smiled a little.

“So what are you saying?” she asked.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “You don’t sneak out.”

“Definitely not,” Yelena added. “Sneaking leads to consequences. We have proven this.”

Y/n huffed softly. “Yeah, yeah.”

“But,” Natasha continued, “we talk about it first.”

Yelena leaned forward slightly. “We know where you are. Who you are with.”

Y/n considered that.

“That’s… fair,” she admitted.

Yelena studied her for a moment longer, then nudged her shoulder lightly. “You are still annoying.”

Y/n bumped her back. “You literally just tickled me into another dimension.”

Yelena smiled faintly. “And I would do it again.”

“Wow.”

Natasha exhaled a quiet breath—almost a laugh.