Be Kind

sera , my love! how are you?

I can't tell if this is a porn bot or sarcasm lmao

Feeling So Tired; Falling Apart

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: You don’t think you could ever be loved again, until Natasha comes into your life and refuses to be pushed out.

Word Count: 1,051

Warnings: Severe depression, self-hate, loneliness, isolation, heavy mental health issues and discussions, angst, and cursing.

A/N: This is just a vent fic that I wrote for myself because I’m not ok lol and I cope with fictional characters. Again- this is a vent fic, and please proceed with caution. Title is inspired by My Kind Of Woman by Mac DeMarco because I cry to his music.

You didn’t know when you realized that you were unlovable.

Maybe it was when you noticed how during your entire childhood the kids from school wouldn’t talk to you or invite you over to their birthday parties, or when you would hear their laughter in the hallways when you walked past them.

Maybe it was when everyone talked about their best friends and their plans for the weekend, but you had just decided to take on an extra shift at work to ignore the loneliness you were drowning in.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was when you were finally fucking old enough to stop being so goddamn stupid, and realize that everyone who told you that they cared or loved you was lying.

The only person who maybe could sometimes make you feel loved was Natasha.

Natasha.

She was the one person who was there for you. And you loved her for it. God, you fucking loved her so much.

But even with her support, you couldn’t drive away your depression and your isolation.

Because, unlike you, Natasha had other people. She was reunited with Yelena and spent a lot of time with her. Wanda was her best friend, and you could almost always catch them together. Even though she was your girlfriend, it didn’t feel like Natasha thought of you as her favorite person.

Because, quite frankly, no one ever did. And no one ever will. And fuck, it was the loneliest feeling in the world.

A feeling that even Natasha couldn’t and wouldn’t understand. No matter how hard she tried.

“Please baby, please. You can’t just push everyone away like this.” Natasha’s voice broke, but you couldn’t even hear it. You were huddled under your blankets, tears streaming down your face. You couldn’t listen to her.

You took a breath in when you felt the bed dip and arms wrap around your waist. “Natasha, please go away.” You whispered. You reached out for your phone and huffed in annoyance when the redhead grabbed it out of your hands.

“You’re not doing this again. I will not watch you spiral, Y/N. We all love you and support you and care. I cannot stand by and watch the love of my life do this to themself. Please, just let us-”

You felt rage bubble in your stomach, and you threw her arms off of you. “Who’s us, Nat? No really, who’s fucking us? Because as far as I’m concerned, I don’t have anyone, Natasha! I’m fucking alone, and you can never fucking understand it!”

Natasha shook her head, “Baby, please listen to me. I hear you, and I understand you-”

“Fuck!” You yelled, tears streaming down your cheek as you stood up from your bed. “No, no you don’t! You have people who love you! Yelena’s your sister, and you talk to her! Wanda’s there and-”

“Y/N, listen to me,” Natasha said firmly, grabbing onto your arms and forcing you back down onto the bed. “Do you think in the Red Room that I never felt alone?”

You went silent, unable to respond.

“I was alone my entire childhood. Actually, I don’t even think what happened to me counts as a childhood. So please fucking believe me when I tell you that I know what’s it’s like to be so fucking alone. But guess what?”

You looked up at her.

“I found a family. The Avengers. I thought I’d be doomed forever too. It’s hard to get out of that mindset, I know. But you will find people who love you, honey. I love you. Yelena loves you. Wanda loves you.”

You shook your head and tried to ignore the sobs that were rising. “No, that’s different. You were made to be lovable because you’re… you’re a good person. You’re enough, you’re worthy. And I’m not.” You couldn’t hold back your sobs anymore.

You could practically feel the redhead’s heart break from your words as she pulled you into her arms, and refused to let you out of them. “You’re so worthy. So beautiful.” Natasha whispered in your ear, gently rocking you.

“No, I’m not. I’m so alone. I can’t do this anymore, I can’t-” Natasha shushed you and turned over, spooning you close to her. “Everyone says they love me but they never really do. I’m no one’s favorite person, no one’s top priority, I just-”

Natasha shook her head once again, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “But you’re my favorite person, honey. You’re my top priority, the light of my life. I need you, okay? I care about you so, so much. And other people do, even if you can’t feel it.”

“That’s not true. So many people say that and they’re lying- you’re fucking lying!” You couldn’t contain all the pent-up emotions from the years hiding anymore. You tried to escape the redhead’s grasp but she simply held you tighter and peppered kisses on your face.

“I’m not lying. Baby, I love you so much. It breaks me to see you hurting like this, it really does. I know the other team feels the same way. We all want you to be okay, we want you to feel happy. Because if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.”

You finally stopped fighting and let yourself cry. Natasha traced patterns on your back and whispered affirmations in your ear, unwilling to leave you alone, even for a moment.

“Go to sleep. I know you’re tired baby.” Natasha said in a soft tone, helping you get back under the blankets. “And when you wake up, I’ll get you some food, okay? Just rest for now, love.”

“I’m sorry, I just-”

“No. I don’t want any apologies to be spoken, okay? You have nothing to be sorry for. I love you and I’m not leaving you. No matter what you go through, I will be here. My love is unconditional, and I’m not going anywhere.”

With blurry eyes you looked up at her, “Do you promise? You promise you won’t leave me?” Your voice broke, and Natasha nodded.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

And with the redhead by your side you realized that with Natasha, you maybe had a chance.

You had a chance to feel better. To be better. Because unlike everything else in your life, Natasha stayed.

Main Taglist: @catasha @romanoffs-wallflower @wandanatvoid @marvelwomen-simp @freesloppy @alotofpockets @thewidowsghost @didujustcallmedumb @dawnoftime22 @deadcvpid @romanoffscottage @millieistheunofficialsimp @heartoreadallthequeerthingz @avengerswriter4eva @multifandomlesbianic @romanottsmaximoff @chiyongberry

Natasha Romanoff Taglist: @milfloverslut @ghostlybailiffathletestatesman @madamevirgo @proudmorning @fanfictioniseverything

Hurt/Comfort Taglist: N/A

GL Webtoon Masterlist

Hello, welcome to the post where I share girls love (yuri/wlw) comics you can read on the Webtoon app! Some are focused on romance while others are more plot-heavy.

Links are included. Personal favourites are marked with a heart emoji.

I do not to include webtoons that are discontinued, on hiatus, have not been updated in a long time or have few episodes, but other than that, feel free to make suggestions and I will add them to the list. 

Side note for those who are new to Webtoon, series on Webtoon are divided into canvas and originals. Originals are published by authors that are employed by Webtoon. Canvas series are self-published, so sometimes they update irregularly and might end up being discontinued, unlike originals. Sometimes Webtoon picks up a popular canvas series and employs the author. The series then is re-released as an original.

Hope this helps, please enjoy!

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Natasha x reader.

Natasha has a nightmare and reader hears from her room so she goes to comfort her and they both fall asleep in the end

warning: best friend!natasha x fem!reader, best friend to lovers trope, slight angst? mutual pinning, and sad nat :(

Her room is quaint but ever so full of her personality. With her white coated rug and fancy little Eames chair, you frown knowing that even in her sleep, Natasha finds no serenity.

Instead as you enter and find her whimpering and turning under her duvet, you rush to her aid. Worry present on your features before you wake her up in fear that she might hurt herself.

“Natty?”

You’re hopeful that your voice will lull her back to the land of the living and when it does, a sigh of relief falls so effortlessly from your lips.

Victory is short lived when you find her looking at you in distress. With brows pinched and lips quivering, a hand cups her cheek out of empathy.

“You okay?” You ask, though you’re more than aware that she isn’t. You’re giving her the opportunity to open up to you, on her own terms and on her own field. “Bad dream?”

She nods carefully, but melts within your touch. It flutters something inside of your chest, mixing with the guilt of falling in love with your best friend.

“Was about you,” she confesses. Her eyes flutter close in shame but you’re there to remind her that she’s not alone.

“You don’t have to talk about it, Natty,” you say, voice gentle and understanding that this, her trauma and her past, is a hard experience to go through again. You’re in no place, regardless of your friendship with the woman, to condemn her back.

She nods, grateful for your understanding. Though her fears return when she realizes that once you leave, she’ll be alone once more. Another night spent cold and heartless, a feat that she struggles to deal with every day until you came into her life.

And so through a quivering lip and flushed cheeks, she turns to you in hopes of an answer. “Will you stay?”

You freeze in your spot. Never have you slept in her bed with her beside you. Sure you’ve done it in the couch during nights dedicated to spending time with her but never alone in her room where vulnerability and trust are at stake.

Unsure, you look at her to confirm that you had heard correctly. “You want me to?”

Natasha shrugs, nearly embarrassed but still ever so truthfully in what she wants. The mere thing you adored about her, her honesty and while to some, her bluntness.

“If that’s alright with you,” she says.

Her words make a grin sprout on your chapped lips, but it’s when you nod that confirms your eagerness.

“I would love nothing more.”

This isn’t Taylor or Leigh but simply ✨her✨

oh bestie... beefy Nat... get ready for needy beefy Nat content. This turned into uhh... not a drabble, but I don't think anyone is gonna be mad about it? I wrote this to that "training with Nat" playlist that's literally like... sex playlist?? Shay knows the one

words: 1.2k

warnings: 18+ only, minors DNI; smut; physical restraint (but reader is like, used to it); fingering; clothed sex; daddy kink; mocking; Nat pound me into the training mat challenge

summary: honestly just.. Nat gets needy after sparring

It wasn't fair how much Natasha had to suffer over the past hour. You'd invited her to come workout with you, nothing too intense, just a sparring partner to work on hand to hand combat with; there was no one better to ask than her.

The entire time the two of you went back and forth on the mat, she got the upper hand and while you were tired of losing, you were even more tired of how distracting she was. Natasha typically wore shirtless tops around the compound, that wasn't new, but facing her in a fight you could see the muscles in her arms and you didn't know if you were out of breath because she was putting you through the wringer or if the fantasies in your head were getting the best of you.

Sparring was effective, but you wished Nat would toss you on the mat for a completely different reason.

"Okay okay, I give up!" It was the fifth time she'd pinned you and fuck, you would be surprised if you could stay coherent enough to make your way back to your room. Yes, you shared one with the redhead, but she liked to train longer than you so you figured that maybe if you were quick enough you could spend time recovering with a hot bath and your fingers between your legs.

Natasha let you up, rolling onto her back as you left the mat. The angle gave her the perfect view of your ass, outlined by the tight fabric of your stretchy shorts. For as much as you'd been watching Natasha, she'd been watching you right back; each time she took you down was a struggle in restraint. It'd be too easy to take you right there, but she'd resisted only because any one of your teammates could walk in. "Quitting already? But we were having so much fun."

Could be having a lot more fun upstairs. The thought came to your head before you could stop it and the resulting whine was too loud in the quiet room to go unnoticed. "Letting you run me into the ground repeatedly is a very one-sided type of fun, Natasha."

The older woman jumped up with ease, years of endurance training letting her recover with a quickness you could only ever envy. You didn't see her walking over to you, too preoccupied with gathering your bag together to get out of there. When she spoke again, she was right behind you and Natasha smirked as she caught your thighs instinctively pressing together. "You couldn't convince me you don't like losing to me if you tried."

"Why would I like losing?" You kept your back to her on purpose; if you looked at her you were sure you'd end up begging her to take you right there.

Natasha stepped closer, just enough to grab you. She was too fast for you, too strong, and she had you pressed flush against your front before you could process your shock. "Because I know you too well; you’re not subtle and you love it when I trap you."

Squirming away was fruitless; Natasha barely gave you room to breathe. You couldn't complain though, not when her hand was making its way to your breasts, squeezing roughly even when you cried out. The fights and her show of strength left you powerless to do anything but let your girlfriend touch you as she pleased, nipples pebbling both under her teasing and with your top half now exposed to the cold gym air. "Natty, we can't.. not here..."

She shushed you way too gently for how brutishly her other hand was sliding down the front of your shorts, hot breath tickling your ear. "I can do whatever I want and right now, I need my sweet girl to stay still while I fuck her."

You nodded quickly, your knees going weak almost as soon as her fingers spread you open. Risky as it was here out in the open, this was so much better than your fingers would ever be. She kissed your bare shoulder as she examined and groped you hungrily at her will. When her fingers were easily coated with your slick, the both of you groaned so loud there was no way anyone passing by the door wouldn’t have heard.

It was messy and crude, Natasha circling your clit until you’d soaked through your panties and possibly even your shorts— you loved it. “Daddy, please…”

“Oh fuck,” Maybe Natasha hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but she did and if the hard bite where your neck met your shoulder was any indication, she was quick to hide any other impulsive reactions. It was no secret how much the redhead adored the title, especially from you. Anything from you, really; she needed every part, every word, every whine you blessed her with. “Say it again, tell me how much you want it.”

“I-“ Stringing a sentence together proved difficult, Natasha’s fingertips just barely grazing your entrance throwing your brain into one thought alone. “Fuck me, please, daddy! I need you inside…”

A singular finger slid in, slow and steady and not at all what you needed to get off. You whined pitifully, trying to force yourself down on her hand to no avail. “I thought you wanted to wait? What happened, changed your mind?”

You wanted to yell and scream that it was all Natasha’s doing, that you’d be upstairs in your room if you had any say in the matter, happily bent over the mattress while you thrust onto your favorite vibrator. But that didn’t matter; you’d still be thinking of her, wishing it was her taking charge instead of a toy you controlled.

In her strong arms you felt captured and kept; no matter how you struggled, her hold on your body kept you still as a doll in a child’s grasp. “Stop squirming, baby. Daddy just needs to make you feel good.”

She was certainly doing just that, having slid a second finger alongside the first, stretching you perfectly. Your hips bucked back into her own and as her thumb played deviously with your swollen clit, you were even more grateful for Natasha’s support because without her, your knees would’ve given in a while ago. It didn’t take long before you were fighting off your orgasm, begging breathily to be allowed much needed release. “...’m so close.. Please…!”

Trying to escape her touch was pointless; Natasha was relentless in how she played with you, “Shh, it’s okay. Go on… cum for me.” It only took two curls of her digits to make you fall apart completely, your whimpers echoing off the solid walls of the empty training room. Your vision left for a moment, ears ringing as your body fell slack. Not for a second were you in danger of falling to the ground because Natasha was still holding you against her, one hand toying with your breast as her other was firmly buried between your shaking thighs.

The heel of her palm brushed over your over sensitive bud and you flinched away, but her grip never eased. The tip of her nose grazed the shell of your ear slowly, gently, unbothered by how you struggled against her firm body as she started fucking into you all over again. Natasha had stood and fought with you that afternoon on her best behavior, suppressing the urge to call off your training for her own favorite form of exercise. But now she’d won all rounds and she was going to be as selfish as she pleased. “Oh no, princess, I won five times and you owe me my rewards.”

Say you break your ankle. You could know everything there is to know intellectually about the injury. Even with this vast knowledge, you will still experience physical pain.

Now take this logic and apply it to things like ADHD, autism, clinical depression, and other less visible/divergent disabilities. You cannot think your way out of feeling.

That is to say: you are not a bad, lazy, or selfish person for struggling, even if you know why you are struggling.

What about..,,, college professor Nat who wears those fancy blazers with dress pants and has this amazing expensive cologne :) She gives you these dirty flirtatious looks during class...🥰

i just saw this babes i’m so fucking sorry 😭 but ur right, college professor nat would be the type to smell like sexy, expensive perfume, you know it’s expensive cuz you probably told her she smelled good and she told you what it was... she’s so sexy, alluring, and she loves picking on you because she adores how you flush in embarrassment

no bones

content warnings: no smut but reference to it, also mommy kink, nat comforts you by… being a shitty gf lol

a/n: ive opened 3 word docs to write diff things and its not coming out bc ive been haha sad af so i wrote this mediocre gfs fic, as usual ur both terrible gfs on paper but in practice it… works out actually

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on your desk

natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: a secret admirer has been dropping off cute notes and flowers off at your desk every day, but you cant help but want there to be one specific, unreachable and untouchable person to be behind it all. 

warnings: fluff, uncertainty, secret admirer!!! basically shy!nat 

word count: 3.8k 

omg nicole look!!!. its your shitty coworker au- eNJoY shsjdjbd OF COURSE NOT PROOFREAD- it’s me c’mon ajsjjdn

There were flowers on your desk, again. And like every time after the first few, your heart picked up when you saw them, in nearly the same arrangement as they usually were. And like Wanda (and occasionally Sharon, if she wasn’t already head first into her computer) did every morning, she craned her neck over to look at you and your open-ish cubicle, where you stared at your desk and tried to decide who on earth could have sent you flowers for the millionth time. 

“You don’t know anyone who could have sent these?” She asked, an entertained and slightly knowing grin on her face as she looked at the typed note that always came with the flowers, no matter how short or to the point it was. On some days, the note would read “you should never stop smiling”, and on others, it would be half a page about how amazing you were at work and how much you were appreciated by your peers. There was no telling what you were going to get, and it managed to be a surprise every day even though you expected it. You shook your head.  “No one at all?” 

No, you didn’t think you know anyone who would have liked you enough to have flowers lying out for you every day, but you knew for a fact that you sure wished it was a specific person, just one. But you knew it wasn’t her. There was no way that Natasha Romanoff was the one buying flowers and typing you cutsey notes, no way at all. That just wasn’t her, and you knew it. Besides, you were always the first to work even if you didn’t make your way to your office first. You would have seen Natasha and her parked car if she was bringing flowers to your desk in the morning. And- it just wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. 

 She was serious. Very stoic, very driven, incredibly pretty, and even smarter. Somehow under all of her seriousness, she managed to light up the boring office (that occasionally had calls from irate customers that you always handled). She had all the traits that men were afraid of women having, and at first, that was what drew you to her. She knew what she wanted and more times than not, she knew where she had to go and what she had to do to get the things she wanted.

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oooh what about soft!dark! bucky and nat with ballerina daughter reader?

warnings: INC3ST, dad!bucky x mom!nat x daughter!reader, groping, and breast play. NSFW

DO NOT READ if this offends or triggers you in the slightest, your media consumption is your own responsibility.

Natasha cocked her head at your form, her husband right beside her against the walls of mirror.

She shook her head and huffed. “Turn your other feet a bit more outwards, sweetheart. It’s too inwards.”

You frowned, inching your left feet out in order to fulfil your mom’s demands. You had to. The dance was to be perfect. Of course, you were the Swan Lake, it had to be perfect no matter what. Your mom had been the Swan Lake when she was your age, it was your turn.

This year, both your parents were just in involved in your training and as Natasha shook her head at your failed attempt to fix your feet, she sighed.

“Let’s take a break. We’ll go over this section again tomorrow.” Your frowned turned into a pout when Natasha shook her head. Your eyes went from your mom to the older man beside her, your father’s eyes soft and gentle as he started making his way towards you.

His large arms, wrapped around your shoulder, he towers over you like some giant over a dwarf. “You’re too harsh on her, Tasha.” Your father swayed you in his arms as he held you, arm moving over to your stomach.

“She needs the practice, James.” The redhead inched towards the two of you and soon the pout on your bitten lips disappeared just as your mother ran her knuckles along the apples of your cheek.

“I’m sure she’ll be the best white swan out there.”

You giggled when Bucky dipped his head in the crook of your neck, your eyes settled on your mother’s pursed lips as your father peppered kisses all over your fragile skin.

“I have no doubt.” She said, head tilting gently as she watched the scene unfold. Her husband’s hand splayed over the flat plans of your tummy, while the other travelled further up as Bucky cupped your breast through your leotard. “I just want the very best for you.”

“I know, Mama...” Your head lulled back, eyes fluttered closed at the sensation of your father’s groping hand. You tried to focus but instead, you melted when Natasha’s hand dipped between your legs and under the mesh skirt to rub your cunt through your leotard.

The older woman chuckled, her lashes heavy as she looked up and saw her husband sucking hickeys on the skin of your collarbone while pinching the pebbled nipples through your shirt.

“Just relax, sweetheart.”

Bucky nipped at your neck, while Natasha’s hand was relentless as she hooked the gusset of your body suit to the side.

“You deserve it.”