natasha romanoff oneshots

the small things

authors note: really random short chapter bcs I've got nothing right now. too busy but i still wanted to post.

Natasha sighed, pulling back from Tony’s hold, running a hand through her slightly tangled hair.

“Alright, that’s enough,” she muttered. “It’s getting too hot.”

Tony huffed dramatically, but let her go as she stepped back.

The warmth of the embrace lingered, but she shook it off as she stretched her arms, rolling her shoulders.

Then she stood up. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

The team nodded, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to announce her plans like that.

No one questioned it.

No one pushed.

They just let her be.

Steve went to the kitchen, grabbing a drink.

Clint flopped onto the couch, lazily scrolling through his phone.

Bruce settled down with a book.

Thor was—well, Thor was probably off somewhere dramatically contemplating the universe.

And Tony—

Tony waited.

He didn’t know why.

Didn’t know what he was even doing.

But he stayed.

Waited for the sound of the shower to start.

Waited for the sound of the water to stop.

And then, when he was sure she was done, he grabbed something from the dresser and walked toward her door.

He knocked twice.

A beat of silence.

Then:

“What?”

Tony smirked. “I come in peace.”

Natasha opened the door, her red hair damp and curling at the ends, smelling faintly of lavender and something soft.

Her brows lifted as she spotted the object in his hand.

A hairbrush.

She sighed.

“Seriously?”

Tony shrugged. “It’s only fair.”

She rolled her eyes but turned around, padding toward her bed and patting the spot next to her.

“Fine,” she said. “Sit down.”

Tony grinned.

And he did.

He settled behind her, gathering her damp strands in his hands, brushing through the tangles with infinite care.

It was quiet for a while.

The strokes of the brush were slow, gentle.

Natasha relaxed, shoulders lowering slightly as he worked.

She didn’t fight it.

Didn’t tease him about it.

She just let him.

When her hair was smooth and dry enough, Tony twisted the strands, weaving them into a careful braid down her back.

He tied it off, running his fingers over it lightly.

And then—

He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her into his chest.

Natasha stilled.

She felt the warmth of him, the steady thump of his heart against her back.

She could have pulled away.

Could have groaned and shoved him off like usual.

But she didn’t.

She just sat there, letting him hold her.

Tony rested his chin on her shoulder. “Never thought you’d be the cuddly type.”

Natasha let out a small, amused hum.

“Never thought you were, either,” she murmured. “And yet, here we are.”

Tony chuckled. “Touché.”

Another beat of silence.

Then—

“I mean it, you know,” Tony said, voice softer. “Seeing little you, teenager you—it reminded us why we love you so much. It also made us realize how far you’ve come.”

Natasha swallowed.

Tony’s voice stayed gentle.

“You changed a lot,” he said. “But at the same time—you haven’t changed at all.”

His arms tightened slightly, as if to ground her in the moment.

“And I really, really am proud of you.”

Natasha let out a small, breathy chuckle.

Her voice wavered, cracking at the edges like she was close to tears.

She cleared her throat, forcing lightness into her tone.

“That’s Cap’s job,” she muttered. “The pep talks.”

Tony snorted.

“Well, he’s rubbing off on me,” he said. “And if you tell him that, I’ll deny it to my grave.”

Natasha shook her head, her shoulders shaking slightly with a quiet laugh.

Tony just held her closer.