natasha romanoff one-shots (gxg)

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐚𝐝

a/n: (as requested) songfic inspired by 'all bad' — justin bieber; imagine whatever nat era you want, but i wrote this with bw!nat in mind

there were multiple ways to interpret the song imo, so i chose the one i thought made most sense :)

The darkness of her room envelops both of you as you're tangled up on her bed. Cold sheets, smelling of cologne and the whiskey you spilled, and the feeling of her lips on your throat. Natasha trails kisses down your neck, her hand firmly gripping your waist. You sigh softly, continuing to run your fingers through her hair.

"I have an idea", she mumbles against your skin, leaving hickeys here and there. You close your eyes, trying to focus on her words for a moment — which proves to be difficult considering the very distracting feeling of her lips on your bare skin.

"If it's anything like the one you had last night, count me in", you mumble, lightly scratching her scalp with your nails.

Natasha smirks, pressing one final kiss to your collarbone before looking up at you. "You, me, Montauk. And a private mansion."

You raise your eyebrows, a small grin forming on your face. "Mhm, sounds nice. When?"

"This weekend. We'll leave Friday night." She kisses your jaw, her tongue darting out to taste your skin. A disappointed hum escapes you, and she pauses mid kisses. "Come on, babe. Don't tell me-"

"Sorry", you say quietly, running your hands down to cup her face as she's on eye level with you again. "Family gathering. It's my great grandfather's 99th birthday, and I have to be there."

Natasha tilts her head, giving you a deadpan look. "Hm. Sounds like he'll still be around next year."

You scoff, lightly shoving her. She smirks, unfazed, and presses her lips to the corner of your mouth. "I'm serious. I can't just cancel on them. Besides..."

"Besides, they don't know I exist", she finishes your sentence, internally rolling her eyes. Natasha's aware of your rather stuck-up family, and the fact that you haven't told them about her yet. It's not like she minds too much, as she's aware of the reasons behind that decision — a deadly, bitter ex-assassin and spy doesn't exactly sound like the ideal daughter-in-law —, but being reminded of it still makes something inside her twist.

You sigh, rubbing your thumbs over her cheeks. "They do know you exist."

"Yes, but they don't know me."

"They will know you", you assure her, studying her face. She doesn't seem to upset by all this, which is both relieving and concerning. "Eventually."

"Yeah, yeah." Natasha hums, her hands slipping under your shirt to slide over your sides. Her thumbs press into your skin, making your eyes close for a brief moment. "I don't give a shit. It's not like their opinion will change anything."

You smile at the tone in her voice, biting back a soft laugh. "No, it won't", you agree, wrapping a strand of her hair around your finger. "Even though I'm sure they'll like you."

She lifts her head, feeling the strong urge to scoff at your words. That outcome sounds as unlikely as it gets. "Yeah? What part will they like?"

You tilt your head, gently tugging at the strand of hair. Maybe she doesn't believe you, but you don't care.

"Every part", you finally say, watching her shake her head. You huff as you kiss her, feeling her lips press against yours. "I'm serious", you add, mumbling against her mouth. "And if they don't, they'll come around at some point."

Natasha softens slightly at the kiss, even though she doesn't fully trust your judgment on this matter yet. She knows people tend to see the worst in her, that they seem to always use her past against her. They judge her — openly, shamelessly — and they will judge you for being with her, as well. Hell, the ones who know about you and her judge you already.