#natashar

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine Natasha Romanoff taking care of you after a rough mission.

You emerged from the waters, breaking through the surface and blissfully, but painfully, filled your lungs with air again. Nat came up beside you, leaning back to try to float a little easier. She was the one who pointed out the rescue helicopter that was coming through the skies, and holding onto you as the cold and the stress finally hit your body. You were on the verge of passing out in the middle of the damn Ocean, with only Nat to take care of you.

Once on the helciopter, while you were clinging onto consciousness, she was making sure that not only did you have a towel and a blanket around your shoulders, but that you had hers too. Her suit was more insulated than yours, she could handle that bit of cold.

“Let’s get you out of those wet clothes,” She would insist once you were back on the mainland. There was a car waiting for you, to take you on the long road home with heating but, she had other ideas. She took you to the first ocean-front store that she could find and started going through the racks while you tried not to sneeze too loud.

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in the back of the car, warm jeans, new socks, a shirt, a sweater - they didn’t have any underwear at the boutique but you were alright with going without, even for a little while. And Nat was now ordering the driver to go through a drive-thru somewhere and get you a hot drink.

“I’ll be alright, you don’t need to spoil me,” You said to the redhead. She gave you a look, one that started off with ‘shut up’ but then grew into a smile.

“I just can’t have my partner getting sick-” You let out another sneeze. “-er.”

[natasha-steve]

tbh I'm a little sad to see Natasha's red hair go, it was truly iconic. But I'm excited to see the reasons as to why she's blonde!

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine being Natasha’s son, and doing the final snap.

As you held the gauntlet on your hand, as you snapped your fingers, you knew that this wasn’t going to bring everyone back. It wouldn’t bring back Clint, who had been the closest thing to a father figure that you ever had, who had fallen over the edge after fighting Natasha for who was going to sacrifice themselves. Clint had more kids, Clint had a wife - but Natasha had you, and you were there, watching, your heart breaking - and he just knew that he had to be the one to fall, so he cut the rope binding him to safety and allowed himself to descend down to his death.

You were thinking of him as you raised the heavy gauntlet, your mother looking at you with a horrified expression. “I love you mama-” You said to the woman who might not have birthed you, but had raised you. “I love you so much,” You said, and before she could jolt herself forward to stop you, you snapped your fingers.

It was the worst pain that you have ever felt in your life - it felt like all of your vitality, all of your energy, everything that was you was sucked out and into that glove. It took everything to keep hanging on. With exhausted eyes, you looked over to see that the fighter that your mother had been battling with was disappearing. Others were too. Like the dust that your friends and family had turned into before.

You did it. The people that were blinked away returned, and the enemy - it was their time to waste away to nothing, to be utterly defeated by the snap of fingers.

Your mother was by your side. She pushed your hair out of your face, and looked down at you, tears filling her eyes. A crying Natasha was such a rare thing to see, but this was the second time in a couple of days. She had cried over Clint and now she was crying over you - she was losing the two most important people in her world. You didn’t try to play it cool, you didn’t trust to push her away as she pulled you into her chest and started to sing.

It was a Russian lullaby that she had been singing to you since you were a little girl. You closed your eyes and listened to the words weaving and out of your ears, her heartbeat pounding against your head. You could feel it breaking - and then you felt nothing anymore, but Natasha wouldn’t stop - she’d sing the song again as people started to close in, to silently thank you for your sacrifice, and to try to tear Natasha away from you eventually. It was not easy. It took Steve a lot of pulling, it took Thor’s muscles to separate the two of you. She’d be feeling this for the rest of her life. She’d be feeling this emptiness that she refused to let go of, the memory of you, the shape of you.

Requested by: Anonymous

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine convincing Natasha to go on a vacation with you.

“Okay, so no Budapest, why don’t we just count out all of Europe, it seems like a bad idea,” You said, looking at a globe. Three times you had spun it and stuck your finger down to find somewhere to go, but each time, Natasha had some excuse for not wanting to join you. You understood them to a point, bad memories were everywhere, but there had to be somewhere you could go.

You spun again, then put your finger down. “Ha! Here we go, Havana. We can pick up some cuban cigars, take in a little history, crazy nightlife, yeah?” You didn’t mind the idea of you and Nat in your bathing suits walking up and down the beach, stopping in at a party.

“Too many beaches. I have too many gunshot scars to wear a bikini,” She said, taking a sip of her Starbucks. How this damn woman always seemed to read your mind...

“Then wear a scuba suit!” You said, growing frustrated. “Alright, this is the last pick. You have anything bad to say about it and I’ll stop bugging you to go on vacation with me.”

“Deal.” Natasha said, watching you with a raised eyebrow. You spun the globe, and tapped on...

“Kodaikanal, India.” You said, making eye contact with Natasha, challenging her.

She seemed to think for a moment then sighed. “Never heard of it.”

“Perfect! I’ll book the tickets.”

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine Natasha Romanoff giving you a black eye during training.

Dodge. Dodge. Kick. Dodge. Punch.

“You’re getting better at this,” Natasha said, dodging your punch. You hadn’t laid any hits on her yet, but she hadn’t landed any on you either. It was starting to make you feel a little bit confident.

“You think?” You asked. You went in for the kick just as Natasha went in for the punch... and your ass landed on the floor with a blinding pain in your face.

“You got distracted,” Natasha said, rolling her eyes. She took off her sparring gloves, and then joined you on the floor. You slowly sat up and held your hand to your face. You were already starting to feel the swelling, which made you glare at Natasha. “You have to learn somehow.” She took both of your hands and brought you up to a standing position. “Alright, alright, let’s get a bag of peas on that, and we’ll watch a movie, how about that?

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine suffering from nightmares, and the only thing that helps you sleep is Natasha playing with your hair.

You woke up with your skin feeling clammy, and a cold sweat all over. Your eyes took a second to adjust to the darkness, but what took further adjustment was the feeling of someone beside you.

Natasha never once complained about your ailment. She was always there to help - and you were very glad it was her. You had the feeling that if it had been Tony’s room beside yours, the nightmares would get worse instead of being soothed better.

You closed your eyes again as Natasha started to sing a Russian lullaby to you, her fingers smoothing any knots that were in your hair. Over and over she stroked, starting the song again when she had finished, until she was sure that you were asleep.

When your breathing got shallow, when your body relaxed into the bed, she kissed your cheek, then made her way into her own room, door open in case she needed to return.

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine owning a bakery that was destroyed during the battle in New York, and Natasha comes and helps you fix it up personally.

You looked at all of the progress that you had made by yourself. The walls were repaired somewhat, and you had a coffee machine behind the counter. That was it so far, your ovens had been destroyed by one of those alien things that fell from the sky. It was too terrifying, you never got around to reading the newspapers and finding out what they were. All you knew was that the Avengers had saved the city - and that one of them had been a loyal customer of yours, Natasha.

You weren’t ready to open yet, and probably wouldn’t be for a long while. As a bakery, you couldn’t serve just coffee. And besides, most of your mugs had other cups had been broken by the blasts from outside. Your door was open however, with the closed sign turned, and you spent most of your time sweeping the dust out. It seemed to get everywhere.

“What a mess.” A familiar, cool-sounding voice said. You looked up from your sweeping and saw the redhead that you were just thinking about standing there.

“Little bit,” You said, putting the broom to the side. “The ovens were destroyed, we don’t have anything but coffee...”

“That can be fixed.” Natasha smirked, approaching you. She took the broom from where you had put it, and looked over to the coffee machine. “You start up on that coffee, I’ll start sweeping. I already arranged for brand new ovens to be brought here, courtesy of Mister Stark.”

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine Natasha being worried about you after you got wounded.