natasha romanoff one-shots (gxg)

⑱+ 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞

a/n: okay hear me out: for this one you'll have to imagine a more masc nat (short hair, tank top, tattoos, etc); there's no actual reason for it other than me being a wh*re for short-haired scarlett/nat.

the plot's all over the place but lots of ✨spicy✨ stuff + some angst + fluff ofc — this isn't just smut, but i still tagged it as such because it contains quite a bit of it

Stark!reader (you're Tony's sister)

"God, you could help me, you know?"

"I love you, Y/N, but absolutely not", Tony says, opening the door to the building for you. "You're as slow as the last time I saw you, sissy."

You drop your suitcases and glare at him. "Did you invite me over just so you could annoy me the entire time?", you snap.

"I was kidding, relax. Gimme that." He — finally — grabs one of the suitcases and helps you carry it inside, where you're met by the entire team. They're in the kitchen, apparently drinking coffee and waiting for you.

No matter how often you set foot in this place — you'll always feel nervous, at least for the first few minutes.

The entire team welcomes you warmly, handing you a cup of coffee and asking you about college. They're talking loudly, one person interrupting the other and making it hard for you to listen to any of them.

Only one person is rather quiet: Natasha.

She isn't saying anything. Instead, her eyes have glued themselves to your body, traveling up and down and looking at every curve, every inch of exposed skin. Her eyes finally reach your face — and she's met with you staring right back at her.

Yeah, you remember her. It would be impossible for you not to.

What you had was short lived, brief and pretty much just a fling, but it made an impression so deep it'll always linger in you. No matter what.

"Hey", you say, still staring at her.

She smirks softly. "Hi."

The interaction stays hidden from the others, who are focusing on other things again. Right now, it's only you and her.

You lower your eyes again, trying to get your heart rate back to normal. You still have no idea how Natasha manages to make you feel this way without doing anything at all. You suspect she might be a witch or something.

"Y/N, cookie?", Wanda asks, showing you a plate full of chocolate chip cookies.

You look at her, blinking a few times. "Oh, yeah. Sure. Thanks."

"You okay?", she asks, tilting her head. She definitely noticed your mental absence.

"I'm fine", you brush it off, cracking a smile. "Just tired."

"Get some rest", she encourages you. "We're having a barbecue later, and I doubt we'll be going to bed before midnight. You'll need your energy."

You nod. "Okay, sure. Will do."

Your eyes meet Natasha's again, and she smiles. You look away again, taking a deep breath to stop the incoming blushing on your cheeks. Then you excuse yourself and leave, going upstairs into the guest bedroom you'll be staying in over the next few weeks.

. . .

About two hours later, a knock startles you. You look up from your phone, glancing at the door. "It's open", you say.

It's Natasha. Who else would it be.

"Barbecue's about to start", the short-haired woman informs you, leaning against the doorframe. You can't help it — your eyes automatically flicker to her biceps, which are covered in tattoos. "Y/N?"