keepingitformyself

[keepingitformyself]

i changed into goddesses, villains, and fools

A/N: i’m so sorry, please forgive me. will update later with a happy christmas fic as some insurance.

synopsis: in which the passing of time tricked them into believing they had control.

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader, james (Bucky) barnes x reader.

genre: angst.

warnings: everything about this is a warning. it’s so so sad. reader loves a man. natasha is mean.

MASTERLIST

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

it’s a cold night.

you’re sat on your couch, hands holding onto the soft blanket thrown over you and up to your neck, savoring any ounce of heat you can create with it. you stare mindlessly at the television in front of you. but paying attention to the episode of friends proves difficult when your eyes grow heavy, still, you try your best to stay awake.

you sigh when you glance at your phone and see it’s nearly two in the morning, again, you try not to mind the heaviness in your eyes.

eventually, though, a deep sleep consumes you and you’re awoken again an hour later when you hear the stumble of footsteps into your apartment.

you hear the familiar giggle you’ve been waiting to hear all night and a small smile reaches your sleepy face.

immediately you stand on your bare feet and tread across the hardwood floor towards the foyer of your apartment. however, the sight you see isn’t one you at all anticipated.

there, in front of you, natasha has someone pinned into the dark. her hands are in their hair and you can’t see who it is, nor can you be bothered to figure out, because all you can do is stare at her in silent shock.

you think you hear a name whispered into silent sighs, but your ears don’t pick it up.

you feel your heart in your throat and the familiar feeling of tears starts to sting your eyes. your mouth opens and closes but nothing ever comes out. instead, you watch natasha, as if she were some hologram playing out in front of you like you didn’t exist in the moment. like this was just some sick joke she was playing on you. a mock just to torture you.

and all you can do is watch her.

suddenly, your body shoots up, your eyes along with them and you take in a sharp breath. now, the only thing you see around you is the darkness of your bedroom. it takes a few moments for your mind to adjust, the soft mattress beneath you helps in bringing you back down to earth.

your mind replays the moments before you woke, you feel bile rise into your mouth and you surmise that maybe your mind is trying to get you back for something. or maybe the universe just has a funny way of playing tricks on you.

it leaves an even worse taste in your mouth when you turn to the sleeping man beside you, still deep in peaceful slumber. you cringe at the fact that you dreamt of someone else when you already have someone in your bed.

you read the clock on your nightstand. six thirty-eight. it reads. maybe it’s best to get an early start of the day, you figure there is no point in trying to take your sleep back. so, as a stead you start on breakfast early.

you go about your morning trying to lay your mind off of anything that is natasha romanoff, but it’s quite hard to when she’s ruined your morning by showing up in your dream as the villain in your world of peace. in your world where you’ve tried so hard to leave her behind.

you even think of her as you cook breakfast for the man just down your hall. james, your boyfriend. you make james a stack of your famous french toast, something he has always been vocal about enjoying. and you try not to think about how a part of you feels guilty about what happened this morning; that’s why you’re treating him. but he doesn’t need to know that.

but honestly, it makes your heart feel a little heavy when the man you love walks into the kitchen, nearly an hour later, sleepy as he mutters something about you not being beside him when he woke.

the day drags on, each hour marked by the heaviness in your chest. you go about your usual tasks, but it feels like you're sleepwalking through your life. james notices, of course. he’s attentive like that.

“you okay?” he asks gently while he leans against the doorframe, sipping his coffee as you fold the laundry in the living room. his eyes hold a warmth that’s been your safe harbor for so long now.

you force a small smile and nod, but he’s not entirely convinced. “just a little tired. didn’t sleep well last night.”

james tilts his head, considering you, but doesn’t push further. instead, he sets his mug down and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “you need to take care of yourself too, you know. not just me.”

the guilt creeps back in, coiling around your stomach. james is good, too good, and you hate yourself for even letting your mind stray where it did.

you busy yourself running errands and working on any christmas shopping you’ve got left. you try not to let natasha’s ghost hover around your mind, of her in your dream, pressing against some other stranger in your own home. but you can’t help the betrayal you feel, and how you know that if something as little as a dream was affecting you this much, it meant the power natasha has always had over you hasn’t left. even if it seemed like you were doing so good.

years of almosts and maybes. years of quiet moments were stolen between stolen glances. of natasha brushing her hand against yours when no one was looking, her lingering gaze that always seemed to say more than her words ever could. it was intoxicating and maddening all at once.

you even hate to admit that whenever your friends would even comment on how well you two would fit, your heart would stutter. but natasha would laugh it off in the moment as if it wasn’t something that meant everything to you. then she’d be at your side moments later, back to acting like you maybe had the chance at being at the top of her world.

and yet, whenever the opportunity arose to be something more, she would retreat. like that time years ago, when both of you had been free of any attachments. you’d thought—hoped—that maybe it would finally happen. the night had been perfect; quiet, intimate, charged with an energy you could both feel. she’d leaned in, so close that her breath had warmed your skin, and just as you’d thought she would close the distance… she’d pulled away. the next week, she was with someone new, and you’d been left to pick up the pieces of your heart in silence.

it honestly drove you crazy, the kind of nerve natasha romanoff had. for it to feel like you were at the top of her world and in the next moment act like it meant nothing. it made you even more upset when all natasha would do was watch you show off someone new, with that quiet gaze only you’d be able to catch.

it’s not like you were completely oblivious to her silent jealousy, but she had no right. and if she really wanted you all she had to was say it.

and then james came along. sweet james. james who didn’t deserve any of this. who didn’t deserve someone who wasn’t fully his.

so, when your phone buzzes in your pocket and it’s a text from natasha asking to meet you, you wait a long moment before you type out a reply.

it started as so many things did with natasha—a quiet, persistent tug. it was always small at first, the way her eyes lingered just a second too long, the way her fingers brushed against yours as she handed you something, the way her laugh lit something in your chest you didn’t even realize was dark.

you told yourself it meant nothing. you told yourself it had to mean nothing. it was easier that way, wasn’t it? to push the small moments into corners of your mind where they could stay hidden. you had james now, and james was everything you thought you needed. loving him was simple, uncomplicated, and safe. natasha romanoff was none of those things.

it was a drink. a casual drink, she’d said, as if it hadn’t been months, since the last time you let yourself be close to her like this. and as if it hadn’t been years of unanswered questions, of what-ifs and too-late smiles.

natasha romanoff was back for the holidays, and she wanted to see you.

when you arrived at the dimly lit bar, she was already there, leaning back in her chair with a confidence that could command the entire room. her hair fell in loose waves around her face, her leather jacket hung open, and she looked like the kind of storm you’d run headfirst into despite every warning.

she stood when she saw you, her smile quiet but real, and pulled you into a hug that lingered longer than it should have. you felt it then, her hand resting lightly on your back, her breath close to your ear, and you almost pulled away. almost. but then she was ordering drinks, the conversation flowing so effortlessly you could almost pretend you didn’t feel the shift, that invisible line you were both starting to toe.

for weeks, it went on like this. little meetings that weren’t planned but never felt accidental either. her brushing against you as you reached for your bag, her quiet jokes only meant for you, the way she said your name like it was a secret only she could keep.

it chipped away at you, slowly, quietly, until you were standing on the edge of something you couldn’t quite name. you told yourself it didn’t mean anything, but it was getting harder and harder to believe.

and then there was her apartment.

you didn’t plan to go, not really. it had been another one of those nights, drinks spilling into the early hours, her laughter chasing away the guilt you didn’t want to feel. and it was just three days before christmas, and everything felt so nice and happy, even if you knew what you were doing wasn’t entirely right. she invited you in, and for reasons you couldn’t understand, you followed.

the space was so undeniably her, filled with things you didn’t expect—a stack of books on the coffee table, the faint scent of vanilla in the air, and her christmas tree lit up in a corner. she offered you another drink, but you shook your head, your stomach twisting.

“are you okay?” she asked, and her voice was so gentle it broke something inside you.

you nodded, looking anywhere but at her. “i should go.”

but she stepped closer, and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

“do you want to?” she asked, her voice quieter now, and the weight of her question settled between you like a storm.

you looked at her then, really looked at her, and you saw everything—years of unspoken words, of missed chances, of the quiet love she had tucked away behind every sharp remark and lingering glance.

it hit you like a tidal wave, the years you’d spent waiting for this moment, the years you thought you’d given up on her, and now she was standing here, so close, so real.

but you couldn’t. you shouldn’t.

“natasha…” you whispered, but she was already reaching for you, her hand brushing your face like it was the most natural thing in the world.

and that’s when it happened. the kiss. it was soft, hesitant, and everything you had ever wanted, but it was also wrong. so, so wrong.

you pulled back, your chest heaving, and you could see it in her eyes—she knew.

“why now?” you asked, your voice breaking.

she looks off to the side, as if bracing herself for what she’s going to say. you close your eyes, her hand wraps itself in yours, and you’re already trying to fight back your tears. when she turns back to look at you, you feel them start to fall.

“i love you,” she says, almost apologetically. “i have for a long time.” her lips purse in the way that they do like she’s trying to stop herself from crying as well. “i just really needed you to know that.”

you release a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding, shaking your head you try to pull your hand away from hers, but she only grips it harder.

“stop,” you whisper, and your face scrunches when you feel yourself start to openly cry even more.

“stop what?” you feel her hand on your face trying to wipe your tears, you cringe when you feel yourself lean into her touch.

“you can’t say that.” you shake your head. “you know you can’t say that.”

she caresses you, giving you a sad, wistful smile, “it doesn’t change the fact.” and you can’t help the strangled whine that leaves your mouth at her words.

because how do you act? what do you do when natasha has just put you in the very difficult position you’ve been trying to avoid?

how can you remain normal about anything when natasha has just shattered your whole world?

you shake your head, now determined, tears and all like there’s a part of you ready to be reclaimed. because how dare she? how could she make you wait all these years and do it now? now when things are so so good. now when you have someone back at home waiting to take you into his arms. you’ve waited. you have always waited.

but even statues crumble if they’re made to wait.

and maybe you would have waited longer if it weren’t for him. maybe you would have waited forever, just as long as you knew she’d say those three words to you one day. but things change, people change and you have changed.

because there was a time when you would have done anything just for her to look at you. you would’ve made stars shine for natasha romanoff. and you tried so hard, so hard. but you were so tired, tired of wishing on comets, of trying to orbit her planet, maybe time was just never on your side, maybe it was too late, and maybe some stars weren’t meant to align.

so in one single conversation, you decide to tear down the whole sky.

you look at her, vision blurred by tears, and see her fighting back her own, while her hand still held yours. she looked so fragile, her face pale and her lips pressed together, as if bracing herself for the storm she knew she’d unleashed.

her voice broke first. “i’m sorry,” she said quietly, her words trembling as much as her hand in yours. “i know this isn’t fair. i know it’s not right to say it now, but…” she hesitated, her eyes searching yours for something she’d already lost. “i couldn’t keep it in anymore. i had to tell you.”

you closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, but the flood of emotion was too strong. the years of waiting, of wondering, of wanting—everything you’d buried so deep it ached now rushed to the surface. you felt like you were unraveling.

when you opened your eyes again, her gaze was locked on you, her own tears slipping quietly down her cheeks. “i tried to stay away,” she whispered. “i tried to bury it, to let you be happy, but… it’s you. it’s always been you.”

“natasha…” her name cracked on your tongue like splintered glass. you shook your head, biting back a sob. “you can’t do this to me. not now. not like this.”

she stepped closer, hesitant, as if every movement took all her courage. “i never wanted to hurt you,” she said, her voice soft but unsteady. “i thought—god, i thought i was doing the right thing. that if i stayed away, you’d move on, and maybe i would too. but i can’t. i can’t move on from you.”

her words hit you like a tidal wave, and you turned away, needing to put space between you. your heart was breaking, shattering into pieces you couldn’t begin to pick up, because you knew what she was saying was real. and that made it so much worse.

“do you know how long i waited for this?” you asked, your voice trembling. “how long i waited for you to say something, to choose me?” you turned back to her, tears spilling freely down your face. “and now, after all this time, when i finally found something good, something stable, you decide it’s time to speak up?”

“i didn’t plan this,” she said, her voice almost desperate. “i didn’t want to ruin what you have. i just—” she stopped, running a hand through her hair as she struggled to find the words. “i couldn’t keep pretending anymore. pretending i didn’t love you.”

the weight of her words hit you again, and you had to steady yourself against the back of the couch. you shook your head, trying to find clarity in the storm she’d just unleashed in your chest.

“you don’t get to do this, natasha,” you said, your voice firm despite the crack in it. “you don’t get to say this now and expect everything to be okay. i can’t… i can’t just throw everything away because you suddenly decided to tell me how you feel.”

her face crumpled, and you saw her wipe at her eyes quickly, almost angrily. “i’m not asking you to throw anything away,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “i just… i needed you to know. i needed you to know how much you mean to me, even if i’m too late.”

her honesty gutted you. this wasn’t the confident, unshakable natasha romanoff the world knew. this was the raw, broken version of her you’d only seen in fleeting glimpses, and it was almost enough to undo you.

but you couldn’t.

“i love him,” you said, and the words felt like a knife twisting in your chest. “i love james. and i can’t do this to him. he doesn’t deserve it.” and you do. you love him. you love james. james is good, and he loves you, he makes you laugh, and he feels right.

natasha nodded slowly, her tears falling silently now. she looked down at the floor, her hands hanging limp at her sides. “i know,” she said, her voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. “i know he doesn’t. and neither do you.”

the weight of her words hit you harder than anything else. you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to look at her, to really see her for what felt like the last time.

“then you’ll understand why i have to walk away,” you said, your voice softer now but no less certain. “i can’t keep holding onto something that was never meant to be. it’s killing me.”

her head snapped up, her eyes wide and filled with pain. “i never meant to hurt you,” she said, her voice breaking.

“i know,” you said, and the truth of it made your tears fall faster. “but you did. and i can’t let you keep doing it. i won’t.”

you turned toward the door, your steps heavy, your heart shattered. you didn’t know if you would ever feel whole again, but you knew you couldn’t stay. not this time.

and as you leave her apartment and snow starts to fall, you can’t help but feel the irony.

you cry all the way back home, not caring about the people who give you concerned looks as you pass them on the busy new york city sidewalks.

when you get home, you find james on the couch, his laptop balanced on his lap. he looks up at your figure by the door, the smile he has only ever reserved for you falls into a frown when he sees your tear-stained cheeks.

he sets his laptop beside him, a worried expression on his face, “what happened?” he tries to reach for you.

his question makes your resolve break all at once. a small sob leaves your lips and you fall straight into his arms as soon as you get close enough.

you just cry. for a very long moment, and he holds you through it all. when you finally lift your head from his chest his eyebrows furrow, inviting you to say anything, but understanding if you don’t want to.

but you just look at him. you see the look in his eyes, the way his hands brush away the hair from your face, and how they try to wipe away your falling tears. how do even tell him? how could you ever think of ending his world when you’re his?

but he’s the first to say it before you can.

“is it about natasha?” he asks, hesitantly. his question makes you pause.

your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare at him. his voice, steady but soft, holds no anger, no blame—just a quiet understanding that makes your heart ache even more.

“how…” you whisper, your voice cracking. “how did you know?”

james sighs, his hands still cradling your face. he hesitates, searching for the right words. “i’ve always known, i think. not everything, but enough to see it. the way you look when her name comes up. the way your eyes drift when you think i don’t notice.” he swallows hard, his voice shaking slightly. “i didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to believe it was something that could come between us. but…” he exhales, his lips pressing into a thin line. “it’s been there, hasn’t it? for a long time.”

the guilt twists in your chest, sharp and unrelenting. you nod slowly, tears slipping down your cheeks as you look away. “i’m sorry,” you choke out. “i’m so sorry, james. i never wanted to hurt you. i swear, i—”

“i know,” he interrupts gently, his voice breaking as he cups your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “i know you didn’t.”

the kindness in his gaze undoes you, and you collapse into him again, your sobs muffled against his shoulder. he doesn’t say anything, just holds you tighter, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

when your breathing evens out, you pull away, your face red and blotchy, but your resolve is clearer now. you owe him the truth. you owe both of you that much.

“she told me,” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “she told me she loves me. that she’s loved me for a long time.”

james flinches, just slightly, but it’s enough for you to notice. his jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment, as if he’s bracing himself.

“i didn’t want to hear it,” you continue, your voice trembling. “because… because i know what it means. and i know what it could do to us.”

his eyes snap back to yours, wide and filled with pain, but also something deeper: a quiet, unshakable love. “and what do you want?” he asks, his voice low but steady.

the question hangs in the air, heavy and unrelenting. you feel like the world has stopped spinning, every second stretching into eternity.

what do you want?

you close your eyes, forcing yourself to think past the ache in your chest, past the confusion and guilt, and longing that natasha always seems to leave in her wake. you think of james—of his warmth, his steady presence, the way he’s always been there, loving you unconditionally.

and then you think of natasha—the chaos, the heartbreak, the endless waiting. the way she makes you feel like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, exhilarated and terrified all at once.

“i want…” you begin, your voice trembling, “i want this to stop hurting.” you open your eyes, looking at james with all the honesty you can muster. “i want to be here, with you. i want to be the person you deserve. but i don’t know how to let go of her. i don’t know if i ever have.”

james’s face softens, and he nods slowly as if he’s been preparing for this moment all along. “then let me help you,” he says quietly. “we’ll figure it out together. whatever it takes.”

his words hit you like a lifeline, and for the first time in weeks, maybe months, you feel a glimmer of hope. you nod, fresh tears streaming down your face as you lean into him, letting his embrace ground you.

you don’t know how long it will take to heal, or if you’ll ever fully untangle yourself from the grip natasha has on your heart.

but you do know that all that will be left is for you to wonder. to wonder what would have happened, if you’d waited, if she said something sooner, if time had been on your side.

and even years later, you’d still wonder. even after selling your apartment and buying one with james. even after you hear that natasha has married some woman you won't ever bother learning the name of.

and as the years continue to pass you will still wonder, you will wonder if she thinks of you from time to time the way you do and if she’s doing okay.

but the wondering will always just stay as that, and you won’t care enough to let it consume you. not anymore.

because all it is, is just a small echo in your world that you’ve built comfortably far away from natasha romanoff.

[keepingitformyself]

open to taking some requests rn!!! angst, fluff, (maybe smut) (i’ve only ever read it and have yet to dabble in writing it) i’ve also been suffering a slight writers blocks, and have instead spent some time reading for myself, so it may take a bit for me to get requests out….

anywaysss send those requests in if you have any!

characters i am open to writing for: natasha romanoff, kate bishop, wanda maximoff

[keepingitformyself]

wowowow😵‍💫

boulevardier- w. maximoff

pairing: rich!wanda x r

summary: sparks fly at a chance encounter

a/n: first part of dirty cash!! i finished this early december but i was so nervous to post it but i don’t want to keep yall waiting any longer. i hope yall like it!

minors do not interact

looking over at your friend, you give her a glare as you watch her mingle with some potential business partners. being dragged to a fundraising banquet as your friend’s plus one was a way you did not want to spend your saturday evening. especially a night that is full of rich privileged people— a place that you surely don’t feel you belong.

“but you owe me from when you needed me to bail you out of that date a few weeks ago, remember?” was what she told you— and it was true.

the said date went downhill in record time, not even lasting a full thirty minutes before you had your friend call with a fake emergency. your date continuously went on and on about the state of the economy and how people should be investing in stocks to grow wealth rather than focusing on a day job.

needless to say, your friend pulled through and gave an overly convincing act to get you out of there quickly.

your friend is now immersed in a discussion with a man in a suit, probably trying to win him over in hopes to find an investor for her small business. you slip away quietly and let her work her charm.

walking around the banquet hall, you admire the decorations and the ambiance, something you’re not used to being around. you watch as women walk around in either suits or beautiful dresses, you can’t help but admire and feel a little out of place. you’re not used to the flashy life that the people here live— you’ve never had the ample opportunities that the people in this room have had. feeling a sense of jealousy and insecurity run through your veins, you try to snap out of it. it’s not healthy and you know it, but you can’t help but wish you’d be in their shoes.

sighing softly to yourself, you you find a vacant seat at the open bar and order a drink while you people watch. you can hear the live music playing, the chatter of everyone’s conversations, clinking of champagne glasses, the expensive laughter.

imagining your life in their shoes while you nurse your cocktail is how you spend the next few minutes occupying your time.

“is it any good?” you hear a smooth, confident voice ask beside you.

glancing over, you’re met with a dark haired woman with captivating green eyes smiling at you— the kind that disarms you before you even realize it. you smile back and shrug a bit, “it’s a drink. i needed one.”

you joke, now looking over at her well tailored suit and dark makeup. she’s beautiful.

chuckling subtly, “i’d ask you how your night is going, but based off of that sentence— i think i know how it’s going so far. i’m wanda, it’s nice to meet you.” she puts her hand out for a handshake, the glint in her eyes showing her amusement in the introduction.

her hand is warm when you shake it and you can smell a hint of expensive perfume as she gets closer to you to sit in the seat next to you. she speaks with confidence and an alluring charm.

you introduce yourself and laugh, “i didn’t mean any bad by it, it’s just not my.. environment,” you gesture to the crowd around you, “the rich pretentious crowd, it all seems fake to me. dressing up in your finest jewels just to fake altruistic behavior.. it’s not real to me.”

perhaps the drink was already getting to you. maybe that’s the reason you’re letting out a word spill to the beautiful woman who just wanted to know if your paloma was good.

or maybe it’s the way she giggled along with a small nod of her head as you spoke your mind. either way, she wasn’t put off by your tangent. in fact, she continued to sit with you and entertained your preferred topic of discussion for the next few minutes.

wanda watches you with an amused smile on her face. her eyes linger a bit longer on your lips longer than they should.

“fake altruism, huh? what would make it real?” she asks, with a small tilt of her head. her eyes squint the tiniest bit, her grin showing genuine interest. her voice is inquisitive, almost like she’s trying to probe you for something.

had you gone too far? you hesitate to respond, realizing you’ve possibly offended her— wondering if you’ve crossed a line. instead, wanda’s smiling and leaning into you as she wants to hear more.

noticing your slight hesitation, “you know, not a lot of people have the guts to say that. i really like it,” she chuckles softly. wanda looks over your features with a small smile as you move on to talk animatedly about your line of work. she’s enamored by how you’re wearing your emotions on your sleeve— something she struggles with.

you catch yourself, “i’m so sorry, wanda. i’ve been talking at you this whole time.” you inwardly cringe at how you’ve been holding her up with your rambling.

she shakes her head and puts her whiskey down on the bar gently, “no, please, i’m enjoying you. this is quite possibly the most entertainment i’ve had all night so far.” she puts a comforting hand on your forearm that’s resting on the bar in a comforting approach, she’s giving you a genuine smile. her gesture lasts a second too long, her gaze feeling a bit more personal than it needs to be.

“what are you here for?” you shake your head and change the subject to her, wanting to know more about her and why she’s still here wanting to be with you.

her eyes flicker towards the crowd and she hesitates for a moment, almost debating whether or not to be honest with you, “i’m just here for work, requirement by the job.” she shrugs and avoids eye contact, switching the subject back to you. she plays with the rim of her cup, not quite giving you her undivided attention like she just was.

weird.

you don’t spend too much time on it, not wanting to push her away. “i’m here for my friend. she recently started a new business and is hoping to find an investor here, make a good connection.”

you tell her as you gesture to your friend who’s now moved onto her next target of the night. she’s speaking with a woman this time, half interested in what she’s talking about.

wanda nods and follows to where your gesturing, “hm, i’ll have to check her out later.”

you two laugh and talk about different topics over the next ten minutes— ambitions you two have, where you two went to school, where you want to travel. the conversation is lighthearted but the both of you are enjoying the other’s presence.

shaking her head with a laugh, “paris is overrated. you’ll spend more time in traffic than seeing the eiffel tower.”

she watches your expression with a teasing smirk as she says this. she can tell paris is the one place you have always wanted to go to, but she wants to rile you up a bit. pure enjoyment is written on her face as she watched your face contort in mock and offense.

scoffing and looking at her with an incredulous glance, “so tell me where you’d recommend since you’re so well travelled.”

you place your chin in your hand as you await her response. your eyes are slightly glazed over and wanda can’t help but melt at the way the lights are reflecting in your eyes.

wanda grins at your tease, “vienna. no contest. it’s beautiful, and the pastries there will ruin everywhere else for you. you need to go if you ever find the opportunity.” she’s gazing at you intently as you take in her words, the way you’re nodding along to what’s she’s saying with genuine intrigue.

you are just about to respond right as a man taps her on the shoulder and says something under his breath that you can’t quite catch. he leans in with a hint of impatience and you can see how wanda’s posture goes rigid and her jaw tightens.

wanda grimaces and lets out an exasperated sigh, “i’m sorry. they’re calling me for work. i’ll try to find you after, okay? please don’t leave until i see you again. i’d hate to lose my best conversation of the night.”

she gets up from her chair and gives your shoulder a squeeze, lingering a bit longer than needed, her thumb brushes against your skin. she smiles at you warmly just before she takes off in the direction of the man.

you watch as she leaves, noticing how people look in her direction with a hint of awe as she walks past. it makes sense since she had you wrapped around her finger in such a short amount of time.

you leave the bar to find your friend, glancing in the direction wanda left with a love struck smile on your face.

you find her and ask how the networking went. she lets out a sigh of content, “i can’t believe i got to talk to so many people! i gave them all my buriness card and i hope they’ll get in contact with me sometime this week.”

you nod along as she speaks, but subtly looking around the room for any glimpse of the well dressed brunette who had you captivated as soon as she spoke to you.

“did you meet anyone? you’ve been cooped up at the bar all night,” your friend asks as she nudges your shoulder playful with a grin.

rolling your eyes, “actually, yeah. i was talking to a woman, she seems sweet.”

your friends eyes lighten up and she grabs your arm with a small squeal. you laugh at her excitement about your (potentially) blossoming love life. she has continuously tried to set you up on dates in the past, but it never works out.

you groan and cringe, “i know, i know, but remember that i just met her and we don’t even know if-“

your friend shushes you with a stern look, “stop, look! that’s the ceo, the one i told you about earlier i hope i can get in with. she sponsors and invests in a lot of companies and schools. if i can get in with her, it’s like winning the lottery.”

you furrow your eyebrows and turn around to face the stage she’s pointing you to. it takes you a second to find a gap to look in between the bodies in front of you.

and there she is— wanda. your wanda. only now, there she is smiling in all her glory, waving at the crowd that is now forming in front of the stage. the faintest smile on her lips as she gently waves to the crowd.

“oh my god,” your blood runs cold and you freeze in place. you look over at your friend with a terrified look, eyebrows pulling together and eyes wide.

heat rushes to your face and you begin to replay every word you’d said to her at the bar. did she think you were mocking her? your hands begins to clench in nervousness and you want the ground to swallow you whole.

you messed up.

your friend looks at you with a confused look, then pieces it together slowly as she gauges your facial expressions. “oh my god,” she grabs your arm, “oh my god!”

people around look at you two, some shushing you with judgemental looks on their faces. she giggles and mouths, ‘no way.’

she’s filled with excitement at the potential in, you’re filled with dread and embarrassment as you mule over the fact that you complained about this event to wanda. wanda maximoff, the ceo of maximoff industries— founder and organizer of the charity event you’re attending.

your face heats up in embarrassment and you try to hide behind your friend as wanda speaks.

“good evening, everyone,” she stands tall and poised, her voice steady and confident, “thank you all for being here tonight. together, we all share a common goal: to invest in the future by supporting the education of our children.”

you muffle out wanda’s words as you try your best to stand still and not make any sudden movement. maybe if you’ll suddenly become invisible if you stand still enough.

unbeknownst to you, wanda was trying her hardest to spot you in the crowd. unfortunately, the stage lights kept her from being able to clearly see beyond the podium.

you feel queasy and lightheaded as you quickly walk to the restroom. you lean against the sink and try to steady your breathing as much as you can. of course you would somehow offend a ceo at their own event.

you groan as you force yourself to suck up your ego and walk back out into the now booming crowd.

you try to keep a low profile as you walk parallel to the wall— the last thing you want is to offend someone else here.

“there you are,” wanda walks up to you with a two glasses of champagne in her hand. she hands one to you with a smile, “i thought you left me.”

you take the glass with a polite smile, then cringing inwardly as you remember your word vomit at the bar. “listen, wanda, i’m so sorry about what i said. the event is beautiful and i love what you’re doing for the community. it’s amazing, really.”

the words come out rushed and wanda can see a flush on your cheeks. she chuckles softly and shakes her head, “hey, you’re okay. it’s okay. i didn’t take any offense, in fact, i really admire your honesty. it’s rare that i get that nowadays. you really.. stood out tonight.”

you groan and avert your eyes from her. she looks you over and admires you silently. she wants to laugh at your now embarrassed demeanor, a stark contrast to your extroverted energy at the bar.

she realizes she’s been looking at you for too long , clearing her throat and bringing the champagne up to her lips. she looks over the rim at you, trying to be as subtle as possible. your side profile is illuminated by the string lights on the ceiling, your eyes twinkling a bit more than before. perhaps the alcohol now settling in your blood stream? or maybe the fact that wanda actively sought you out after her speech.

you turn to wanda with a small sigh, “are you sure you’re not offended?” you play with the bracelet on your left wrist to try and ground yourself. you feel horrible and uncomfortable in her presence now.

wanda placed a warm hand on your forearm with a gentle look, “i promise. i mean, maybe don’t write off an event before you know what it’s about. people can surprise you, you know?”

wanda’s voice is teasing but soft and comforting. her eyes show no sign of telling a lie and you let out a small laugh at the situation. wanda nudges you with her shoulder softly as she goes to stand next to you.

for a split second, you want to throw caution to the wind and get to know her. you want to ask personal questions— hope there’s something more there.

but you don’t get the chance to. the same man who pulled her away earlier is now speaking into her ear and you can see how irritated she quickly gets with what he’s saying. nodding at what he says, she turns to you with an apologetic look on her face.

“it was refreshing talking to you,” she wants to say more, wants to offer to get you another drink— but she can’t, “take care of yourself, okay?”

and just like that, she’s gone into the crowd. maybe this wasn’t meant to continue on past tonight. maybe meeting wanda was just meant to be a chance encounter.

your friend walks up to you with a furrowed brow, “you’re seriously going to just let her leave?”

you can see the subtle hint of frustration on her face, the wild gesturing in wanda’s direction making it evident she wasn’t happy that you let her leave.

shrugging softly, “i’m sure she’s got better things to do.”

your voice is soft as you stare at wanda speaking with a group of people. she’s got an effortless grace and charm to her, something you don’t have.

following your friend to the exit, you try to push back the thought of wanda and the ‘what if.’

but the memories of her lingering touches, the laughs at your jokes, her soft smiles are now engraved into your mind. you don’t expect to see her again, but a part of you so desperately wishes you could.

[keepingitformyself]

btw i wrote this scene at four am. i almost cried writing it just cus i really wanted to get myself into the headspace of it all. truly this is probably one of my favorite things i’ve written. it’s no happy ending, at least in some sense of the word, and sometimes that’s the truth of reality. i still wanted to emphasize on how these two characters deeply cared for each other and the only real villian here was misdirection and time.

please go read read: i changed into goddesses, villains, and fools if you’re looking for a really sad think piece :)))

[keepingitformyself]

i changed into goddesses, villains, and fools

A/N: i’m so sorry, please forgive me. will update later with a happy christmas fic as some insurance.

synopsis: in which the passing of time tricked them into believing they had control.

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader, james (Bucky) barnes x reader.

genre: angst.

warnings: everything about this is a warning. it’s so so sad. reader loves a man. natasha is mean.

MASTERLIST

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

it’s a cold night.

you’re sat on your couch, hands holding onto the soft blanket thrown over you and up to your neck, savoring any ounce of heat you can create with it. you stare mindlessly at the television in front of you. but paying attention to the episode of friends proves difficult when your eyes grow heavy, still, you try your best to stay awake.

you sigh when you glance at your phone and see it’s nearly two in the morning, again, you try not to mind the heaviness in your eyes.

eventually, though, a deep sleep consumes you and you’re awoken again an hour later when you hear the stumble of footsteps into your apartment.

you hear the familiar giggle you’ve been waiting to hear all night and a small smile reaches your sleepy face.

immediately you stand on your bare feet and tread across the hardwood floor towards the foyer of your apartment. however, the sight you see isn’t one you at all anticipated.

there, in front of you, natasha has someone pinned into the dark. her hands are in their hair and you can’t see who it is, nor can you be bothered to figure out, because all you can do is stare at her in silent shock.

you think you hear a name whispered into silent sighs, but your ears don’t pick it up.

you feel your heart in your throat and the familiar feeling of tears starts to sting your eyes. your mouth opens and closes but nothing ever comes out. instead, you watch natasha, as if she were some hologram playing out in front of you like you didn’t exist in the moment. like this was just some sick joke she was playing on you. a mock just to torture you.

and all you can do is watch her.

suddenly, your body shoots up, your eyes along with them and you take in a sharp breath. now, the only thing you see around you is the darkness of your bedroom. it takes a few moments for your mind to adjust, the soft mattress beneath you helps in bringing you back down to earth.

your mind replays the moments before you woke, you feel bile rise into your mouth and you surmise that maybe your mind is trying to get you back for something. or maybe the universe just has a funny way of playing tricks on you.

it leaves an even worse taste in your mouth when you turn to the sleeping man beside you, still deep in peaceful slumber. you cringe at the fact that you dreamt of someone else when you already have someone in your bed.

you read the clock on your nightstand. six thirty-eight. it reads. maybe it’s best to get an early start of the day, you figure there is no point in trying to take your sleep back. so, as a stead you start on breakfast early.

you go about your morning trying to lay your mind off of anything that is natasha romanoff, but it’s quite hard to when she’s ruined your morning by showing up in your dream as the villain in your world of peace. in your world where you’ve tried so hard to leave her behind.

you even think of her as you cook breakfast for the man just down your hall. james, your boyfriend. you make james a stack of your famous french toast, something he has always been vocal about enjoying. and you try not to think about how a part of you feels guilty about what happened this morning; that’s why you’re treating him. but he doesn’t need to know that.

but honestly, it makes your heart feel a little heavy when the man you love walks into the kitchen, nearly an hour later, sleepy as he mutters something about you not being beside him when he woke.

the day drags on, each hour marked by the heaviness in your chest. you go about your usual tasks, but it feels like you're sleepwalking through your life. james notices, of course. he’s attentive like that.

“you okay?” he asks gently while he leans against the doorframe, sipping his coffee as you fold the laundry in the living room. his eyes hold a warmth that’s been your safe harbor for so long now.

you force a small smile and nod, but he’s not entirely convinced. “just a little tired. didn’t sleep well last night.”

james tilts his head, considering you, but doesn’t push further. instead, he sets his mug down and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “you need to take care of yourself too, you know. not just me.”

the guilt creeps back in, coiling around your stomach. james is good, too good, and you hate yourself for even letting your mind stray where it did.

you busy yourself running errands and working on any christmas shopping you’ve got left. you try not to let natasha’s ghost hover around your mind, of her in your dream, pressing against some other stranger in your own home. but you can’t help the betrayal you feel, and how you know that if something as little as a dream was affecting you this much, it meant the power natasha has always had over you hasn’t left. even if it seemed like you were doing so good.

years of almosts and maybes. years of quiet moments were stolen between stolen glances. of natasha brushing her hand against yours when no one was looking, her lingering gaze that always seemed to say more than her words ever could. it was intoxicating and maddening all at once.

you even hate to admit that whenever your friends would even comment on how well you two would fit, your heart would stutter. but natasha would laugh it off in the moment as if it wasn’t something that meant everything to you. then she’d be at your side moments later, back to acting like you maybe had the chance at being at the top of her world.

and yet, whenever the opportunity arose to be something more, she would retreat. like that time years ago, when both of you had been free of any attachments. you’d thought—hoped—that maybe it would finally happen. the night had been perfect; quiet, intimate, charged with an energy you could both feel. she’d leaned in, so close that her breath had warmed your skin, and just as you’d thought she would close the distance… she’d pulled away. the next week, she was with someone new, and you’d been left to pick up the pieces of your heart in silence.

it honestly drove you crazy, the kind of nerve natasha romanoff had. for it to feel like you were at the top of her world and in the next moment act like it meant nothing. it made you even more upset when all natasha would do was watch you show off someone new, with that quiet gaze only you’d be able to catch.

it’s not like you were completely oblivious to her silent jealousy, but she had no right. and if she really wanted you all she had to was say it.

and then james came along. sweet james. james who didn’t deserve any of this. who didn’t deserve someone who wasn’t fully his.

so, when your phone buzzes in your pocket and it’s a text from natasha asking to meet you, you wait a long moment before you type out a reply.

it started as so many things did with natasha—a quiet, persistent tug. it was always small at first, the way her eyes lingered just a second too long, the way her fingers brushed against yours as she handed you something, the way her laugh lit something in your chest you didn’t even realize was dark.

you told yourself it meant nothing. you told yourself it had to mean nothing. it was easier that way, wasn’t it? to push the small moments into corners of your mind where they could stay hidden. you had james now, and james was everything you thought you needed. loving him was simple, uncomplicated, and safe. natasha romanoff was none of those things.

it was a drink. a casual drink, she’d said, as if it hadn’t been months, since the last time you let yourself be close to her like this. and as if it hadn’t been years of unanswered questions, of what-ifs and too-late smiles.

natasha romanoff was back for the holidays, and she wanted to see you.

when you arrived at the dimly lit bar, she was already there, leaning back in her chair with a confidence that could command the entire room. her hair fell in loose waves around her face, her leather jacket hung open, and she looked like the kind of storm you’d run headfirst into despite every warning.

she stood when she saw you, her smile quiet but real, and pulled you into a hug that lingered longer than it should have. you felt it then, her hand resting lightly on your back, her breath close to your ear, and you almost pulled away. almost. but then she was ordering drinks, the conversation flowing so effortlessly you could almost pretend you didn’t feel the shift, that invisible line you were both starting to toe.

for weeks, it went on like this. little meetings that weren’t planned but never felt accidental either. her brushing against you as you reached for your bag, her quiet jokes only meant for you, the way she said your name like it was a secret only she could keep.

it chipped away at you, slowly, quietly, until you were standing on the edge of something you couldn’t quite name. you told yourself it didn’t mean anything, but it was getting harder and harder to believe.

and then there was her apartment.

you didn’t plan to go, not really. it had been another one of those nights, drinks spilling into the early hours, her laughter chasing away the guilt you didn’t want to feel. and it was just three days before christmas, and everything felt so nice and happy, even if you knew what you were doing wasn’t entirely right. she invited you in, and for reasons you couldn’t understand, you followed.

the space was so undeniably her, filled with things you didn’t expect—a stack of books on the coffee table, the faint scent of vanilla in the air, and her christmas tree lit up in a corner. she offered you another drink, but you shook your head, your stomach twisting.

“are you okay?” she asked, and her voice was so gentle it broke something inside you.

you nodded, looking anywhere but at her. “i should go.”

but she stepped closer, and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

“do you want to?” she asked, her voice quieter now, and the weight of her question settled between you like a storm.

you looked at her then, really looked at her, and you saw everything—years of unspoken words, of missed chances, of the quiet love she had tucked away behind every sharp remark and lingering glance.

it hit you like a tidal wave, the years you’d spent waiting for this moment, the years you thought you’d given up on her, and now she was standing here, so close, so real.

but you couldn’t. you shouldn’t.

“natasha…” you whispered, but she was already reaching for you, her hand brushing your face like it was the most natural thing in the world.

and that’s when it happened. the kiss. it was soft, hesitant, and everything you had ever wanted, but it was also wrong. so, so wrong.

you pulled back, your chest heaving, and you could see it in her eyes—she knew.

“why now?” you asked, your voice breaking.

she looks off to the side, as if bracing herself for what she’s going to say. you close your eyes, her hand wraps itself in yours, and you’re already trying to fight back your tears. when she turns back to look at you, you feel them start to fall.

“i love you,” she says, almost apologetically. “i have for a long time.” her lips purse in the way that they do like she’s trying to stop herself from crying as well. “i just really needed you to know that.”

you release a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding, shaking your head you try to pull your hand away from hers, but she only grips it harder.

“stop,” you whisper, and your face scrunches when you feel yourself start to openly cry even more.

“stop what?” you feel her hand on your face trying to wipe your tears, you cringe when you feel yourself lean into her touch.

“you can’t say that.” you shake your head. “you know you can’t say that.”

she caresses you, giving you a sad, wistful smile, “it doesn’t change the fact.” and you can’t help the strangled whine that leaves your mouth at her words.

because how do you act? what do you do when natasha has just put you in the very difficult position you’ve been trying to avoid?

how can you remain normal about anything when natasha has just shattered your whole world?

you shake your head, now determined, tears and all like there’s a part of you ready to be reclaimed. because how dare she? how could she make you wait all these years and do it now? now when things are so so good. now when you have someone back at home waiting to take you into his arms. you’ve waited. you have always waited.

but even statues crumble if they’re made to wait.

and maybe you would have waited longer if it weren’t for him. maybe you would have waited forever, just as long as you knew she’d say those three words to you one day. but things change, people change and you have changed.

because there was a time when you would have done anything just for her to look at you. you would’ve made stars shine for natasha romanoff. and you tried so hard, so hard. but you were so tired, tired of wishing on comets, of trying to orbit her planet, maybe time was just never on your side, maybe it was too late, and maybe some stars weren’t meant to align.

so in one single conversation, you decide to tear down the whole sky.

you look at her, vision blurred by tears, and see her fighting back her own, while her hand still held yours. she looked so fragile, her face pale and her lips pressed together, as if bracing herself for the storm she knew she’d unleashed.

her voice broke first. “i’m sorry,” she said quietly, her words trembling as much as her hand in yours. “i know this isn’t fair. i know it’s not right to say it now, but…” she hesitated, her eyes searching yours for something she’d already lost. “i couldn’t keep it in anymore. i had to tell you.”

you closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, but the flood of emotion was too strong. the years of waiting, of wondering, of wanting—everything you’d buried so deep it ached now rushed to the surface. you felt like you were unraveling.

when you opened your eyes again, her gaze was locked on you, her own tears slipping quietly down her cheeks. “i tried to stay away,” she whispered. “i tried to bury it, to let you be happy, but… it’s you. it’s always been you.”

“natasha…” her name cracked on your tongue like splintered glass. you shook your head, biting back a sob. “you can’t do this to me. not now. not like this.”

she stepped closer, hesitant, as if every movement took all her courage. “i never wanted to hurt you,” she said, her voice soft but unsteady. “i thought—god, i thought i was doing the right thing. that if i stayed away, you’d move on, and maybe i would too. but i can’t. i can’t move on from you.”

her words hit you like a tidal wave, and you turned away, needing to put space between you. your heart was breaking, shattering into pieces you couldn’t begin to pick up, because you knew what she was saying was real. and that made it so much worse.

“do you know how long i waited for this?” you asked, your voice trembling. “how long i waited for you to say something, to choose me?” you turned back to her, tears spilling freely down your face. “and now, after all this time, when i finally found something good, something stable, you decide it’s time to speak up?”

“i didn’t plan this,” she said, her voice almost desperate. “i didn’t want to ruin what you have. i just—” she stopped, running a hand through her hair as she struggled to find the words. “i couldn’t keep pretending anymore. pretending i didn’t love you.”

the weight of her words hit you again, and you had to steady yourself against the back of the couch. you shook your head, trying to find clarity in the storm she’d just unleashed in your chest.

“you don’t get to do this, natasha,” you said, your voice firm despite the crack in it. “you don’t get to say this now and expect everything to be okay. i can’t… i can’t just throw everything away because you suddenly decided to tell me how you feel.”

her face crumpled, and you saw her wipe at her eyes quickly, almost angrily. “i’m not asking you to throw anything away,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “i just… i needed you to know. i needed you to know how much you mean to me, even if i’m too late.”

her honesty gutted you. this wasn’t the confident, unshakable natasha romanoff the world knew. this was the raw, broken version of her you’d only seen in fleeting glimpses, and it was almost enough to undo you.

but you couldn’t.

“i love him,” you said, and the words felt like a knife twisting in your chest. “i love james. and i can’t do this to him. he doesn’t deserve it.” and you do. you love him. you love james. james is good, and he loves you, he makes you laugh, and he feels right.

natasha nodded slowly, her tears falling silently now. she looked down at the floor, her hands hanging limp at her sides. “i know,” she said, her voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. “i know he doesn’t. and neither do you.”

the weight of her words hit you harder than anything else. you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to look at her, to really see her for what felt like the last time.

“then you’ll understand why i have to walk away,” you said, your voice softer now but no less certain. “i can’t keep holding onto something that was never meant to be. it’s killing me.”

her head snapped up, her eyes wide and filled with pain. “i never meant to hurt you,” she said, her voice breaking.

“i know,” you said, and the truth of it made your tears fall faster. “but you did. and i can’t let you keep doing it. i won’t.”

you turned toward the door, your steps heavy, your heart shattered. you didn’t know if you would ever feel whole again, but you knew you couldn’t stay. not this time.

and as you leave her apartment and snow starts to fall, you can’t help but feel the irony.

you cry all the way back home, not caring about the people who give you concerned looks as you pass them on the busy new york city sidewalks.

when you get home, you find james on the couch, his laptop balanced on his lap. he looks up at your figure by the door, the smile he has only ever reserved for you falls into a frown when he sees your tear-stained cheeks.

he sets his laptop beside him, a worried expression on his face, “what happened?” he tries to reach for you.

his question makes your resolve break all at once. a small sob leaves your lips and you fall straight into his arms as soon as you get close enough.

you just cry. for a very long moment, and he holds you through it all. when you finally lift your head from his chest his eyebrows furrow, inviting you to say anything, but understanding if you don’t want to.

but you just look at him. you see the look in his eyes, the way his hands brush away the hair from your face, and how they try to wipe away your falling tears. how do even tell him? how could you ever think of ending his world when you’re his?

but he’s the first to say it before you can.

“is it about natasha?” he asks, hesitantly. his question makes you pause.

your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare at him. his voice, steady but soft, holds no anger, no blame—just a quiet understanding that makes your heart ache even more.

“how…” you whisper, your voice cracking. “how did you know?”

james sighs, his hands still cradling your face. he hesitates, searching for the right words. “i’ve always known, i think. not everything, but enough to see it. the way you look when her name comes up. the way your eyes drift when you think i don’t notice.” he swallows hard, his voice shaking slightly. “i didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to believe it was something that could come between us. but…” he exhales, his lips pressing into a thin line. “it’s been there, hasn’t it? for a long time.”

the guilt twists in your chest, sharp and unrelenting. you nod slowly, tears slipping down your cheeks as you look away. “i’m sorry,” you choke out. “i’m so sorry, james. i never wanted to hurt you. i swear, i—”

“i know,” he interrupts gently, his voice breaking as he cups your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “i know you didn’t.”

the kindness in his gaze undoes you, and you collapse into him again, your sobs muffled against his shoulder. he doesn’t say anything, just holds you tighter, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

when your breathing evens out, you pull away, your face red and blotchy, but your resolve is clearer now. you owe him the truth. you owe both of you that much.

“she told me,” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “she told me she loves me. that she’s loved me for a long time.”

james flinches, just slightly, but it’s enough for you to notice. his jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment, as if he’s bracing himself.

“i didn’t want to hear it,” you continue, your voice trembling. “because… because i know what it means. and i know what it could do to us.”

his eyes snap back to yours, wide and filled with pain, but also something deeper: a quiet, unshakable love. “and what do you want?” he asks, his voice low but steady.

the question hangs in the air, heavy and unrelenting. you feel like the world has stopped spinning, every second stretching into eternity.

what do you want?

you close your eyes, forcing yourself to think past the ache in your chest, past the confusion and guilt, and longing that natasha always seems to leave in her wake. you think of james—of his warmth, his steady presence, the way he’s always been there, loving you unconditionally.

and then you think of natasha—the chaos, the heartbreak, the endless waiting. the way she makes you feel like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, exhilarated and terrified all at once.

“i want…” you begin, your voice trembling, “i want this to stop hurting.” you open your eyes, looking at james with all the honesty you can muster. “i want to be here, with you. i want to be the person you deserve. but i don’t know how to let go of her. i don’t know if i ever have.”

james’s face softens, and he nods slowly as if he’s been preparing for this moment all along. “then let me help you,” he says quietly. “we’ll figure it out together. whatever it takes.”

his words hit you like a lifeline, and for the first time in weeks, maybe months, you feel a glimmer of hope. you nod, fresh tears streaming down your face as you lean into him, letting his embrace ground you.

you don’t know how long it will take to heal, or if you’ll ever fully untangle yourself from the grip natasha has on your heart.

but you do know that all that will be left is for you to wonder. to wonder what would have happened, if you’d waited, if she said something sooner, if time had been on your side.

and even years later, you’d still wonder. even after selling your apartment and buying one with james. even after you hear that natasha has married some woman you won't ever bother learning the name of.

and as the years continue to pass you will still wonder, you will wonder if she thinks of you from time to time the way you do and if she’s doing okay.

but the wondering will always just stay as that, and you won’t care enough to let it consume you. not anymore.

because all it is, is just a small echo in your world that you’ve built comfortably far away from natasha romanoff.

[keepingitformyself]

AHHH thank you!!! i love bucky, and i def wrote this to show my silent love for him as well

i changed into goddesses, villains, and fools

A/N: i’m so sorry, please forgive me. will update later with a happy christmas fic as some insurance.

synopsis: in which the passing of time tricked them into believing they had control.

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader, james (Bucky) barnes x reader.

genre: angst.

warnings: everything about this is a warning. it’s so so sad. reader loves a man. natasha is mean.

MASTERLIST

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

it’s a cold night.

you’re sat on your couch, hands holding onto the soft blanket thrown over you and up to your neck, savoring any ounce of heat you can create with it. you stare mindlessly at the television in front of you. but paying attention to the episode of friends proves difficult when your eyes grow heavy, still, you try your best to stay awake.

you sigh when you glance at your phone and see it’s nearly two in the morning, again, you try not to mind the heaviness in your eyes.

eventually, though, a deep sleep consumes you and you’re awoken again an hour later when you hear the stumble of footsteps into your apartment.

you hear the familiar giggle you’ve been waiting to hear all night and a small smile reaches your sleepy face.

immediately you stand on your bare feet and tread across the hardwood floor towards the foyer of your apartment. however, the sight you see isn’t one you at all anticipated.

there, in front of you, natasha has someone pinned into the dark. her hands are in their hair and you can’t see who it is, nor can you be bothered to figure out, because all you can do is stare at her in silent shock.

you think you hear a name whispered into silent sighs, but your ears don’t pick it up.

you feel your heart in your throat and the familiar feeling of tears starts to sting your eyes. your mouth opens and closes but nothing ever comes out. instead, you watch natasha, as if she were some hologram playing out in front of you like you didn’t exist in the moment. like this was just some sick joke she was playing on you. a mock just to torture you.

and all you can do is watch her.

suddenly, your body shoots up, your eyes along with them and you take in a sharp breath. now, the only thing you see around you is the darkness of your bedroom. it takes a few moments for your mind to adjust, the soft mattress beneath you helps in bringing you back down to earth.

your mind replays the moments before you woke, you feel bile rise into your mouth and you surmise that maybe your mind is trying to get you back for something. or maybe the universe just has a funny way of playing tricks on you.

it leaves an even worse taste in your mouth when you turn to the sleeping man beside you, still deep in peaceful slumber. you cringe at the fact that you dreamt of someone else when you already have someone in your bed.

you read the clock on your nightstand. six thirty-eight. it reads. maybe it’s best to get an early start of the day, you figure there is no point in trying to take your sleep back. so, as a stead you start on breakfast early.

you go about your morning trying to lay your mind off of anything that is natasha romanoff, but it’s quite hard to when she’s ruined your morning by showing up in your dream as the villain in your world of peace. in your world where you’ve tried so hard to leave her behind.

you even think of her as you cook breakfast for the man just down your hall. james, your boyfriend. you make james a stack of your famous french toast, something he has always been vocal about enjoying. and you try not to think about how a part of you feels guilty about what happened this morning; that’s why you’re treating him. but he doesn’t need to know that.

but honestly, it makes your heart feel a little heavy when the man you love walks into the kitchen, nearly an hour later, sleepy as he mutters something about you not being beside him when he woke.

the day drags on, each hour marked by the heaviness in your chest. you go about your usual tasks, but it feels like you're sleepwalking through your life. james notices, of course. he’s attentive like that.

“you okay?” he asks gently while he leans against the doorframe, sipping his coffee as you fold the laundry in the living room. his eyes hold a warmth that’s been your safe harbor for so long now.

you force a small smile and nod, but he’s not entirely convinced. “just a little tired. didn’t sleep well last night.”

james tilts his head, considering you, but doesn’t push further. instead, he sets his mug down and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “you need to take care of yourself too, you know. not just me.”

the guilt creeps back in, coiling around your stomach. james is good, too good, and you hate yourself for even letting your mind stray where it did.

you busy yourself running errands and working on any christmas shopping you’ve got left. you try not to let natasha’s ghost hover around your mind, of her in your dream, pressing against some other stranger in your own home. but you can’t help the betrayal you feel, and how you know that if something as little as a dream was affecting you this much, it meant the power natasha has always had over you hasn’t left. even if it seemed like you were doing so good.

years of almosts and maybes. years of quiet moments were stolen between stolen glances. of natasha brushing her hand against yours when no one was looking, her lingering gaze that always seemed to say more than her words ever could. it was intoxicating and maddening all at once.

you even hate to admit that whenever your friends would even comment on how well you two would fit, your heart would stutter. but natasha would laugh it off in the moment as if it wasn’t something that meant everything to you. then she’d be at your side moments later, back to acting like you maybe had the chance at being at the top of her world.

and yet, whenever the opportunity arose to be something more, she would retreat. like that time years ago, when both of you had been free of any attachments. you’d thought—hoped—that maybe it would finally happen. the night had been perfect; quiet, intimate, charged with an energy you could both feel. she’d leaned in, so close that her breath had warmed your skin, and just as you’d thought she would close the distance… she’d pulled away. the next week, she was with someone new, and you’d been left to pick up the pieces of your heart in silence.

it honestly drove you crazy, the kind of nerve natasha romanoff had. for it to feel like you were at the top of her world and in the next moment act like it meant nothing. it made you even more upset when all natasha would do was watch you show off someone new, with that quiet gaze only you’d be able to catch.

it’s not like you were completely oblivious to her silent jealousy, but she had no right. and if she really wanted you all she had to was say it.

and then james came along. sweet james. james who didn’t deserve any of this. who didn’t deserve someone who wasn’t fully his.

so, when your phone buzzes in your pocket and it’s a text from natasha asking to meet you, you wait a long moment before you type out a reply.

it started as so many things did with natasha—a quiet, persistent tug. it was always small at first, the way her eyes lingered just a second too long, the way her fingers brushed against yours as she handed you something, the way her laugh lit something in your chest you didn’t even realize was dark.

you told yourself it meant nothing. you told yourself it had to mean nothing. it was easier that way, wasn’t it? to push the small moments into corners of your mind where they could stay hidden. you had james now, and james was everything you thought you needed. loving him was simple, uncomplicated, and safe. natasha romanoff was none of those things.

it was a drink. a casual drink, she’d said, as if it hadn’t been months, since the last time you let yourself be close to her like this. and as if it hadn’t been years of unanswered questions, of what-ifs and too-late smiles.

natasha romanoff was back for the holidays, and she wanted to see you.

when you arrived at the dimly lit bar, she was already there, leaning back in her chair with a confidence that could command the entire room. her hair fell in loose waves around her face, her leather jacket hung open, and she looked like the kind of storm you’d run headfirst into despite every warning.

she stood when she saw you, her smile quiet but real, and pulled you into a hug that lingered longer than it should have. you felt it then, her hand resting lightly on your back, her breath close to your ear, and you almost pulled away. almost. but then she was ordering drinks, the conversation flowing so effortlessly you could almost pretend you didn’t feel the shift, that invisible line you were both starting to toe.

for weeks, it went on like this. little meetings that weren’t planned but never felt accidental either. her brushing against you as you reached for your bag, her quiet jokes only meant for you, the way she said your name like it was a secret only she could keep.

it chipped away at you, slowly, quietly, until you were standing on the edge of something you couldn’t quite name. you told yourself it didn’t mean anything, but it was getting harder and harder to believe.

and then there was her apartment.

you didn’t plan to go, not really. it had been another one of those nights, drinks spilling into the early hours, her laughter chasing away the guilt you didn’t want to feel. and it was just three days before christmas, and everything felt so nice and happy, even if you knew what you were doing wasn’t entirely right. she invited you in, and for reasons you couldn’t understand, you followed.

the space was so undeniably her, filled with things you didn’t expect—a stack of books on the coffee table, the faint scent of vanilla in the air, and her christmas tree lit up in a corner. she offered you another drink, but you shook your head, your stomach twisting.

“are you okay?” she asked, and her voice was so gentle it broke something inside you.

you nodded, looking anywhere but at her. “i should go.”

but she stepped closer, and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

“do you want to?” she asked, her voice quieter now, and the weight of her question settled between you like a storm.

you looked at her then, really looked at her, and you saw everything—years of unspoken words, of missed chances, of the quiet love she had tucked away behind every sharp remark and lingering glance.

it hit you like a tidal wave, the years you’d spent waiting for this moment, the years you thought you’d given up on her, and now she was standing here, so close, so real.

but you couldn’t. you shouldn’t.

“natasha…” you whispered, but she was already reaching for you, her hand brushing your face like it was the most natural thing in the world.

and that’s when it happened. the kiss. it was soft, hesitant, and everything you had ever wanted, but it was also wrong. so, so wrong.

you pulled back, your chest heaving, and you could see it in her eyes—she knew.

“why now?” you asked, your voice breaking.

she looks off to the side, as if bracing herself for what she’s going to say. you close your eyes, her hand wraps itself in yours, and you’re already trying to fight back your tears. when she turns back to look at you, you feel them start to fall.

“i love you,” she says, almost apologetically. “i have for a long time.” her lips purse in the way that they do like she’s trying to stop herself from crying as well. “i just really needed you to know that.”

you release a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding, shaking your head you try to pull your hand away from hers, but she only grips it harder.

“stop,” you whisper, and your face scrunches when you feel yourself start to openly cry even more.

“stop what?” you feel her hand on your face trying to wipe your tears, you cringe when you feel yourself lean into her touch.

“you can’t say that.” you shake your head. “you know you can’t say that.”

she caresses you, giving you a sad, wistful smile, “it doesn’t change the fact.” and you can’t help the strangled whine that leaves your mouth at her words.

because how do you act? what do you do when natasha has just put you in the very difficult position you’ve been trying to avoid?

how can you remain normal about anything when natasha has just shattered your whole world?

you shake your head, now determined, tears and all like there’s a part of you ready to be reclaimed. because how dare she? how could she make you wait all these years and do it now? now when things are so so good. now when you have someone back at home waiting to take you into his arms. you’ve waited. you have always waited.

but even statues crumble if they’re made to wait.

and maybe you would have waited longer if it weren’t for him. maybe you would have waited forever, just as long as you knew she’d say those three words to you one day. but things change, people change and you have changed.

because there was a time when you would have done anything just for her to look at you. you would’ve made stars shine for natasha romanoff. and you tried so hard, so hard. but you were so tired, tired of wishing on comets, of trying to orbit her planet, maybe time was just never on your side, maybe it was too late, and maybe some stars weren’t meant to align.

so in one single conversation, you decide to tear down the whole sky.

you look at her, vision blurred by tears, and see her fighting back her own, while her hand still held yours. she looked so fragile, her face pale and her lips pressed together, as if bracing herself for the storm she knew she’d unleashed.

her voice broke first. “i’m sorry,” she said quietly, her words trembling as much as her hand in yours. “i know this isn’t fair. i know it’s not right to say it now, but…” she hesitated, her eyes searching yours for something she’d already lost. “i couldn’t keep it in anymore. i had to tell you.”

you closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, but the flood of emotion was too strong. the years of waiting, of wondering, of wanting—everything you’d buried so deep it ached now rushed to the surface. you felt like you were unraveling.

when you opened your eyes again, her gaze was locked on you, her own tears slipping quietly down her cheeks. “i tried to stay away,” she whispered. “i tried to bury it, to let you be happy, but… it’s you. it’s always been you.”

“natasha…” her name cracked on your tongue like splintered glass. you shook your head, biting back a sob. “you can’t do this to me. not now. not like this.”

she stepped closer, hesitant, as if every movement took all her courage. “i never wanted to hurt you,” she said, her voice soft but unsteady. “i thought—god, i thought i was doing the right thing. that if i stayed away, you’d move on, and maybe i would too. but i can’t. i can’t move on from you.”

her words hit you like a tidal wave, and you turned away, needing to put space between you. your heart was breaking, shattering into pieces you couldn’t begin to pick up, because you knew what she was saying was real. and that made it so much worse.

“do you know how long i waited for this?” you asked, your voice trembling. “how long i waited for you to say something, to choose me?” you turned back to her, tears spilling freely down your face. “and now, after all this time, when i finally found something good, something stable, you decide it’s time to speak up?”

“i didn’t plan this,” she said, her voice almost desperate. “i didn’t want to ruin what you have. i just—” she stopped, running a hand through her hair as she struggled to find the words. “i couldn’t keep pretending anymore. pretending i didn’t love you.”

the weight of her words hit you again, and you had to steady yourself against the back of the couch. you shook your head, trying to find clarity in the storm she’d just unleashed in your chest.

“you don’t get to do this, natasha,” you said, your voice firm despite the crack in it. “you don’t get to say this now and expect everything to be okay. i can’t… i can’t just throw everything away because you suddenly decided to tell me how you feel.”

her face crumpled, and you saw her wipe at her eyes quickly, almost angrily. “i’m not asking you to throw anything away,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “i just… i needed you to know. i needed you to know how much you mean to me, even if i’m too late.”

her honesty gutted you. this wasn’t the confident, unshakable natasha romanoff the world knew. this was the raw, broken version of her you’d only seen in fleeting glimpses, and it was almost enough to undo you.

but you couldn’t.

“i love him,” you said, and the words felt like a knife twisting in your chest. “i love james. and i can’t do this to him. he doesn’t deserve it.” and you do. you love him. you love james. james is good, and he loves you, he makes you laugh, and he feels right.

natasha nodded slowly, her tears falling silently now. she looked down at the floor, her hands hanging limp at her sides. “i know,” she said, her voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. “i know he doesn’t. and neither do you.”

the weight of her words hit you harder than anything else. you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to look at her, to really see her for what felt like the last time.

“then you’ll understand why i have to walk away,” you said, your voice softer now but no less certain. “i can’t keep holding onto something that was never meant to be. it’s killing me.”

her head snapped up, her eyes wide and filled with pain. “i never meant to hurt you,” she said, her voice breaking.

“i know,” you said, and the truth of it made your tears fall faster. “but you did. and i can’t let you keep doing it. i won’t.”

you turned toward the door, your steps heavy, your heart shattered. you didn’t know if you would ever feel whole again, but you knew you couldn’t stay. not this time.

and as you leave her apartment and snow starts to fall, you can’t help but feel the irony.

you cry all the way back home, not caring about the people who give you concerned looks as you pass them on the busy new york city sidewalks.

when you get home, you find james on the couch, his laptop balanced on his lap. he looks up at your figure by the door, the smile he has only ever reserved for you falls into a frown when he sees your tear-stained cheeks.

he sets his laptop beside him, a worried expression on his face, “what happened?” he tries to reach for you.

his question makes your resolve break all at once. a small sob leaves your lips and you fall straight into his arms as soon as you get close enough.

you just cry. for a very long moment, and he holds you through it all. when you finally lift your head from his chest his eyebrows furrow, inviting you to say anything, but understanding if you don’t want to.

but you just look at him. you see the look in his eyes, the way his hands brush away the hair from your face, and how they try to wipe away your falling tears. how do even tell him? how could you ever think of ending his world when you’re his?

but he’s the first to say it before you can.

“is it about natasha?” he asks, hesitantly. his question makes you pause.

your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare at him. his voice, steady but soft, holds no anger, no blame—just a quiet understanding that makes your heart ache even more.

“how…” you whisper, your voice cracking. “how did you know?”

james sighs, his hands still cradling your face. he hesitates, searching for the right words. “i’ve always known, i think. not everything, but enough to see it. the way you look when her name comes up. the way your eyes drift when you think i don’t notice.” he swallows hard, his voice shaking slightly. “i didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to believe it was something that could come between us. but…” he exhales, his lips pressing into a thin line. “it’s been there, hasn’t it? for a long time.”

the guilt twists in your chest, sharp and unrelenting. you nod slowly, tears slipping down your cheeks as you look away. “i’m sorry,” you choke out. “i’m so sorry, james. i never wanted to hurt you. i swear, i—”

“i know,” he interrupts gently, his voice breaking as he cups your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “i know you didn’t.”

the kindness in his gaze undoes you, and you collapse into him again, your sobs muffled against his shoulder. he doesn’t say anything, just holds you tighter, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

when your breathing evens out, you pull away, your face red and blotchy, but your resolve is clearer now. you owe him the truth. you owe both of you that much.

“she told me,” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “she told me she loves me. that she’s loved me for a long time.”

james flinches, just slightly, but it’s enough for you to notice. his jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment, as if he’s bracing himself.

“i didn’t want to hear it,” you continue, your voice trembling. “because… because i know what it means. and i know what it could do to us.”

his eyes snap back to yours, wide and filled with pain, but also something deeper: a quiet, unshakable love. “and what do you want?” he asks, his voice low but steady.

the question hangs in the air, heavy and unrelenting. you feel like the world has stopped spinning, every second stretching into eternity.

what do you want?

you close your eyes, forcing yourself to think past the ache in your chest, past the confusion and guilt, and longing that natasha always seems to leave in her wake. you think of james—of his warmth, his steady presence, the way he’s always been there, loving you unconditionally.

and then you think of natasha—the chaos, the heartbreak, the endless waiting. the way she makes you feel like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, exhilarated and terrified all at once.

“i want…” you begin, your voice trembling, “i want this to stop hurting.” you open your eyes, looking at james with all the honesty you can muster. “i want to be here, with you. i want to be the person you deserve. but i don’t know how to let go of her. i don’t know if i ever have.”

james’s face softens, and he nods slowly as if he’s been preparing for this moment all along. “then let me help you,” he says quietly. “we’ll figure it out together. whatever it takes.”

his words hit you like a lifeline, and for the first time in weeks, maybe months, you feel a glimmer of hope. you nod, fresh tears streaming down your face as you lean into him, letting his embrace ground you.

you don’t know how long it will take to heal, or if you’ll ever fully untangle yourself from the grip natasha has on your heart.

but you do know that all that will be left is for you to wonder. to wonder what would have happened, if you’d waited, if she said something sooner, if time had been on your side.

and even years later, you’d still wonder. even after selling your apartment and buying one with james. even after you hear that natasha has married some woman you won't ever bother learning the name of.

and as the years continue to pass you will still wonder, you will wonder if she thinks of you from time to time the way you do and if she’s doing okay.

but the wondering will always just stay as that, and you won’t care enough to let it consume you. not anymore.

because all it is, is just a small echo in your world that you’ve built comfortably far away from natasha romanoff.

[keepingitformyself]

POSTEDDDDDD

i changed into goddesses, villains, and fools

A/N: i’m so sorry, please forgive me. will update later with a happy christmas fic as some insurance.

synopsis: in which the passing of time tricked them into believing they had control.

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader, james (Bucky) barnes x reader.

genre: angst.

warnings: everything about this is a warning. it’s so so sad. reader loves a man. natasha is mean.

MASTERLIST

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

it’s a cold night.

you’re sat on your couch, hands holding onto the soft blanket thrown over you and up to your neck, savoring any ounce of heat you can create with it. you stare mindlessly at the television in front of you. but paying attention to the episode of friends proves difficult when your eyes grow heavy, still, you try your best to stay awake.

you sigh when you glance at your phone and see it’s nearly two in the morning, again, you try not to mind the heaviness in your eyes.

eventually, though, a deep sleep consumes you and you’re awoken again an hour later when you hear the stumble of footsteps into your apartment.

you hear the familiar giggle you’ve been waiting to hear all night and a small smile reaches your sleepy face.

immediately you stand on your bare feet and tread across the hardwood floor towards the foyer of your apartment. however, the sight you see isn’t one you at all anticipated.

there, in front of you, natasha has someone pinned into the dark. her hands are in their hair and you can’t see who it is, nor can you be bothered to figure out, because all you can do is stare at her in silent shock.

you think you hear a name whispered into silent sighs, but your ears don’t pick it up.

you feel your heart in your throat and the familiar feeling of tears starts to sting your eyes. your mouth opens and closes but nothing ever comes out. instead, you watch natasha, as if she were some hologram playing out in front of you like you didn’t exist in the moment. like this was just some sick joke she was playing on you. a mock just to torture you.

and all you can do is watch her.

suddenly, your body shoots up, your eyes along with them and you take in a sharp breath. now, the only thing you see around you is the darkness of your bedroom. it takes a few moments for your mind to adjust, the soft mattress beneath you helps in bringing you back down to earth.

your mind replays the moments before you woke, you feel bile rise into your mouth and you surmise that maybe your mind is trying to get you back for something. or maybe the universe just has a funny way of playing tricks on you.

it leaves an even worse taste in your mouth when you turn to the sleeping man beside you, still deep in peaceful slumber. you cringe at the fact that you dreamt of someone else when you already have someone in your bed.

you read the clock on your nightstand. six thirty-eight. it reads. maybe it’s best to get an early start of the day, you figure there is no point in trying to take your sleep back. so, as a stead you start on breakfast early.

you go about your morning trying to lay your mind off of anything that is natasha romanoff, but it’s quite hard to when she’s ruined your morning by showing up in your dream as the villain in your world of peace. in your world where you’ve tried so hard to leave her behind.

you even think of her as you cook breakfast for the man just down your hall. james, your boyfriend. you make james a stack of your famous french toast, something he has always been vocal about enjoying. and you try not to think about how a part of you feels guilty about what happened this morning; that’s why you’re treating him. but he doesn’t need to know that.

but honestly, it makes your heart feel a little heavy when the man you love walks into the kitchen, nearly an hour later, sleepy as he mutters something about you not being beside him when he woke.

the day drags on, each hour marked by the heaviness in your chest. you go about your usual tasks, but it feels like you're sleepwalking through your life. james notices, of course. he’s attentive like that.

“you okay?” he asks gently while he leans against the doorframe, sipping his coffee as you fold the laundry in the living room. his eyes hold a warmth that’s been your safe harbor for so long now.

you force a small smile and nod, but he’s not entirely convinced. “just a little tired. didn’t sleep well last night.”

james tilts his head, considering you, but doesn’t push further. instead, he sets his mug down and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “you need to take care of yourself too, you know. not just me.”

the guilt creeps back in, coiling around your stomach. james is good, too good, and you hate yourself for even letting your mind stray where it did.

you busy yourself running errands and working on any christmas shopping you’ve got left. you try not to let natasha’s ghost hover around your mind, of her in your dream, pressing against some other stranger in your own home. but you can’t help the betrayal you feel, and how you know that if something as little as a dream was affecting you this much, it meant the power natasha has always had over you hasn’t left. even if it seemed like you were doing so good.

years of almosts and maybes. years of quiet moments were stolen between stolen glances. of natasha brushing her hand against yours when no one was looking, her lingering gaze that always seemed to say more than her words ever could. it was intoxicating and maddening all at once.

you even hate to admit that whenever your friends would even comment on how well you two would fit, your heart would stutter. but natasha would laugh it off in the moment as if it wasn’t something that meant everything to you. then she’d be at your side moments later, back to acting like you maybe had the chance at being at the top of her world.

and yet, whenever the opportunity arose to be something more, she would retreat. like that time years ago, when both of you had been free of any attachments. you’d thought—hoped—that maybe it would finally happen. the night had been perfect; quiet, intimate, charged with an energy you could both feel. she’d leaned in, so close that her breath had warmed your skin, and just as you’d thought she would close the distance… she’d pulled away. the next week, she was with someone new, and you’d been left to pick up the pieces of your heart in silence.

it honestly drove you crazy, the kind of nerve natasha romanoff had. for it to feel like you were at the top of her world and in the next moment act like it meant nothing. it made you even more upset when all natasha would do was watch you show off someone new, with that quiet gaze only you’d be able to catch.

it’s not like you were completely oblivious to her silent jealousy, but she had no right. and if she really wanted you all she had to was say it.

and then james came along. sweet james. james who didn’t deserve any of this. who didn’t deserve someone who wasn’t fully his.

so, when your phone buzzes in your pocket and it’s a text from natasha asking to meet you, you wait a long moment before you type out a reply.

it started as so many things did with natasha—a quiet, persistent tug. it was always small at first, the way her eyes lingered just a second too long, the way her fingers brushed against yours as she handed you something, the way her laugh lit something in your chest you didn’t even realize was dark.

you told yourself it meant nothing. you told yourself it had to mean nothing. it was easier that way, wasn’t it? to push the small moments into corners of your mind where they could stay hidden. you had james now, and james was everything you thought you needed. loving him was simple, uncomplicated, and safe. natasha romanoff was none of those things.

it was a drink. a casual drink, she’d said, as if it hadn’t been months, since the last time you let yourself be close to her like this. and as if it hadn’t been years of unanswered questions, of what-ifs and too-late smiles.

natasha romanoff was back for the holidays, and she wanted to see you.

when you arrived at the dimly lit bar, she was already there, leaning back in her chair with a confidence that could command the entire room. her hair fell in loose waves around her face, her leather jacket hung open, and she looked like the kind of storm you’d run headfirst into despite every warning.

she stood when she saw you, her smile quiet but real, and pulled you into a hug that lingered longer than it should have. you felt it then, her hand resting lightly on your back, her breath close to your ear, and you almost pulled away. almost. but then she was ordering drinks, the conversation flowing so effortlessly you could almost pretend you didn’t feel the shift, that invisible line you were both starting to toe.

for weeks, it went on like this. little meetings that weren’t planned but never felt accidental either. her brushing against you as you reached for your bag, her quiet jokes only meant for you, the way she said your name like it was a secret only she could keep.

it chipped away at you, slowly, quietly, until you were standing on the edge of something you couldn’t quite name. you told yourself it didn’t mean anything, but it was getting harder and harder to believe.

and then there was her apartment.

you didn’t plan to go, not really. it had been another one of those nights, drinks spilling into the early hours, her laughter chasing away the guilt you didn’t want to feel. and it was just three days before christmas, and everything felt so nice and happy, even if you knew what you were doing wasn’t entirely right. she invited you in, and for reasons you couldn’t understand, you followed.

the space was so undeniably her, filled with things you didn’t expect—a stack of books on the coffee table, the faint scent of vanilla in the air, and her christmas tree lit up in a corner. she offered you another drink, but you shook your head, your stomach twisting.

“are you okay?” she asked, and her voice was so gentle it broke something inside you.

you nodded, looking anywhere but at her. “i should go.”

but she stepped closer, and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

“do you want to?” she asked, her voice quieter now, and the weight of her question settled between you like a storm.

you looked at her then, really looked at her, and you saw everything—years of unspoken words, of missed chances, of the quiet love she had tucked away behind every sharp remark and lingering glance.

it hit you like a tidal wave, the years you’d spent waiting for this moment, the years you thought you’d given up on her, and now she was standing here, so close, so real.

but you couldn’t. you shouldn’t.

“natasha…” you whispered, but she was already reaching for you, her hand brushing your face like it was the most natural thing in the world.

and that’s when it happened. the kiss. it was soft, hesitant, and everything you had ever wanted, but it was also wrong. so, so wrong.

you pulled back, your chest heaving, and you could see it in her eyes—she knew.

“why now?” you asked, your voice breaking.

she looks off to the side, as if bracing herself for what she’s going to say. you close your eyes, her hand wraps itself in yours, and you’re already trying to fight back your tears. when she turns back to look at you, you feel them start to fall.

“i love you,” she says, almost apologetically. “i have for a long time.” her lips purse in the way that they do like she’s trying to stop herself from crying as well. “i just really needed you to know that.”

you release a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding, shaking your head you try to pull your hand away from hers, but she only grips it harder.

“stop,” you whisper, and your face scrunches when you feel yourself start to openly cry even more.

“stop what?” you feel her hand on your face trying to wipe your tears, you cringe when you feel yourself lean into her touch.

“you can’t say that.” you shake your head. “you know you can’t say that.”

she caresses you, giving you a sad, wistful smile, “it doesn’t change the fact.” and you can’t help the strangled whine that leaves your mouth at her words.

because how do you act? what do you do when natasha has just put you in the very difficult position you’ve been trying to avoid?

how can you remain normal about anything when natasha has just shattered your whole world?

you shake your head, now determined, tears and all like there’s a part of you ready to be reclaimed. because how dare she? how could she make you wait all these years and do it now? now when things are so so good. now when you have someone back at home waiting to take you into his arms. you’ve waited. you have always waited.

but even statues crumble if they’re made to wait.

and maybe you would have waited longer if it weren’t for him. maybe you would have waited forever, just as long as you knew she’d say those three words to you one day. but things change, people change and you have changed.

because there was a time when you would have done anything just for her to look at you. you would’ve made stars shine for natasha romanoff. and you tried so hard, so hard. but you were so tired, tired of wishing on comets, of trying to orbit her planet, maybe time was just never on your side, maybe it was too late, and maybe some stars weren’t meant to align.

so in one single conversation, you decide to tear down the whole sky.

you look at her, vision blurred by tears, and see her fighting back her own, while her hand still held yours. she looked so fragile, her face pale and her lips pressed together, as if bracing herself for the storm she knew she’d unleashed.

her voice broke first. “i’m sorry,” she said quietly, her words trembling as much as her hand in yours. “i know this isn’t fair. i know it’s not right to say it now, but…” she hesitated, her eyes searching yours for something she’d already lost. “i couldn’t keep it in anymore. i had to tell you.”

you closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, but the flood of emotion was too strong. the years of waiting, of wondering, of wanting—everything you’d buried so deep it ached now rushed to the surface. you felt like you were unraveling.

when you opened your eyes again, her gaze was locked on you, her own tears slipping quietly down her cheeks. “i tried to stay away,” she whispered. “i tried to bury it, to let you be happy, but… it’s you. it’s always been you.”

“natasha…” her name cracked on your tongue like splintered glass. you shook your head, biting back a sob. “you can’t do this to me. not now. not like this.”

she stepped closer, hesitant, as if every movement took all her courage. “i never wanted to hurt you,” she said, her voice soft but unsteady. “i thought—god, i thought i was doing the right thing. that if i stayed away, you’d move on, and maybe i would too. but i can’t. i can’t move on from you.”

her words hit you like a tidal wave, and you turned away, needing to put space between you. your heart was breaking, shattering into pieces you couldn’t begin to pick up, because you knew what she was saying was real. and that made it so much worse.

“do you know how long i waited for this?” you asked, your voice trembling. “how long i waited for you to say something, to choose me?” you turned back to her, tears spilling freely down your face. “and now, after all this time, when i finally found something good, something stable, you decide it’s time to speak up?”

“i didn’t plan this,” she said, her voice almost desperate. “i didn’t want to ruin what you have. i just—” she stopped, running a hand through her hair as she struggled to find the words. “i couldn’t keep pretending anymore. pretending i didn’t love you.”

the weight of her words hit you again, and you had to steady yourself against the back of the couch. you shook your head, trying to find clarity in the storm she’d just unleashed in your chest.

“you don’t get to do this, natasha,” you said, your voice firm despite the crack in it. “you don’t get to say this now and expect everything to be okay. i can’t… i can’t just throw everything away because you suddenly decided to tell me how you feel.”

her face crumpled, and you saw her wipe at her eyes quickly, almost angrily. “i’m not asking you to throw anything away,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “i just… i needed you to know. i needed you to know how much you mean to me, even if i’m too late.”

her honesty gutted you. this wasn’t the confident, unshakable natasha romanoff the world knew. this was the raw, broken version of her you’d only seen in fleeting glimpses, and it was almost enough to undo you.

but you couldn’t.

“i love him,” you said, and the words felt like a knife twisting in your chest. “i love james. and i can’t do this to him. he doesn’t deserve it.” and you do. you love him. you love james. james is good, and he loves you, he makes you laugh, and he feels right.

natasha nodded slowly, her tears falling silently now. she looked down at the floor, her hands hanging limp at her sides. “i know,” she said, her voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. “i know he doesn’t. and neither do you.”

the weight of her words hit you harder than anything else. you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to look at her, to really see her for what felt like the last time.

“then you’ll understand why i have to walk away,” you said, your voice softer now but no less certain. “i can’t keep holding onto something that was never meant to be. it’s killing me.”

her head snapped up, her eyes wide and filled with pain. “i never meant to hurt you,” she said, her voice breaking.

“i know,” you said, and the truth of it made your tears fall faster. “but you did. and i can’t let you keep doing it. i won’t.”

you turned toward the door, your steps heavy, your heart shattered. you didn’t know if you would ever feel whole again, but you knew you couldn’t stay. not this time.

and as you leave her apartment and snow starts to fall, you can’t help but feel the irony.

you cry all the way back home, not caring about the people who give you concerned looks as you pass them on the busy new york city sidewalks.

when you get home, you find james on the couch, his laptop balanced on his lap. he looks up at your figure by the door, the smile he has only ever reserved for you falls into a frown when he sees your tear-stained cheeks.

he sets his laptop beside him, a worried expression on his face, “what happened?” he tries to reach for you.

his question makes your resolve break all at once. a small sob leaves your lips and you fall straight into his arms as soon as you get close enough.

you just cry. for a very long moment, and he holds you through it all. when you finally lift your head from his chest his eyebrows furrow, inviting you to say anything, but understanding if you don’t want to.

but you just look at him. you see the look in his eyes, the way his hands brush away the hair from your face, and how they try to wipe away your falling tears. how do even tell him? how could you ever think of ending his world when you’re his?

but he’s the first to say it before you can.

“is it about natasha?” he asks, hesitantly. his question makes you pause.

your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare at him. his voice, steady but soft, holds no anger, no blame—just a quiet understanding that makes your heart ache even more.

“how…” you whisper, your voice cracking. “how did you know?”

james sighs, his hands still cradling your face. he hesitates, searching for the right words. “i’ve always known, i think. not everything, but enough to see it. the way you look when her name comes up. the way your eyes drift when you think i don’t notice.” he swallows hard, his voice shaking slightly. “i didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to believe it was something that could come between us. but…” he exhales, his lips pressing into a thin line. “it’s been there, hasn’t it? for a long time.”

the guilt twists in your chest, sharp and unrelenting. you nod slowly, tears slipping down your cheeks as you look away. “i’m sorry,” you choke out. “i’m so sorry, james. i never wanted to hurt you. i swear, i—”

“i know,” he interrupts gently, his voice breaking as he cups your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “i know you didn’t.”

the kindness in his gaze undoes you, and you collapse into him again, your sobs muffled against his shoulder. he doesn’t say anything, just holds you tighter, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

when your breathing evens out, you pull away, your face red and blotchy, but your resolve is clearer now. you owe him the truth. you owe both of you that much.

“she told me,” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “she told me she loves me. that she’s loved me for a long time.”

james flinches, just slightly, but it’s enough for you to notice. his jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment, as if he’s bracing himself.

“i didn’t want to hear it,” you continue, your voice trembling. “because… because i know what it means. and i know what it could do to us.”

his eyes snap back to yours, wide and filled with pain, but also something deeper: a quiet, unshakable love. “and what do you want?” he asks, his voice low but steady.

the question hangs in the air, heavy and unrelenting. you feel like the world has stopped spinning, every second stretching into eternity.

what do you want?

you close your eyes, forcing yourself to think past the ache in your chest, past the confusion and guilt, and longing that natasha always seems to leave in her wake. you think of james—of his warmth, his steady presence, the way he’s always been there, loving you unconditionally.

and then you think of natasha—the chaos, the heartbreak, the endless waiting. the way she makes you feel like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, exhilarated and terrified all at once.

“i want…” you begin, your voice trembling, “i want this to stop hurting.” you open your eyes, looking at james with all the honesty you can muster. “i want to be here, with you. i want to be the person you deserve. but i don’t know how to let go of her. i don’t know if i ever have.”

james’s face softens, and he nods slowly as if he’s been preparing for this moment all along. “then let me help you,” he says quietly. “we’ll figure it out together. whatever it takes.”

his words hit you like a lifeline, and for the first time in weeks, maybe months, you feel a glimmer of hope. you nod, fresh tears streaming down your face as you lean into him, letting his embrace ground you.

you don’t know how long it will take to heal, or if you’ll ever fully untangle yourself from the grip natasha has on your heart.

but you do know that all that will be left is for you to wonder. to wonder what would have happened, if you’d waited, if she said something sooner, if time had been on your side.

and even years later, you’d still wonder. even after selling your apartment and buying one with james. even after you hear that natasha has married some woman you won't ever bother learning the name of.

and as the years continue to pass you will still wonder, you will wonder if she thinks of you from time to time the way you do and if she’s doing okay.

but the wondering will always just stay as that, and you won’t care enough to let it consume you. not anymore.

because all it is, is just a small echo in your world that you’ve built comfortably far away from natasha romanoff.

[keepingitformyself]

i changed into goddesses, villains, and fools

A/N: i’m so sorry, please forgive me. will update later with a happy christmas fic as some insurance.

synopsis: in which the passing of time tricked them into believing they had control.

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader, james (Bucky) barnes x reader.

genre: angst.

warnings: everything about this is a warning. it’s so so sad. reader loves a man. natasha is mean.

MASTERLIST

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

it’s a cold night.

you’re sat on your couch, hands holding onto the soft blanket thrown over you and up to your neck, savoring any ounce of heat you can create with it. you stare mindlessly at the television in front of you. but paying attention to the episode of friends proves difficult when your eyes grow heavy, still, you try your best to stay awake.

you sigh when you glance at your phone and see it’s nearly two in the morning, again, you try not to mind the heaviness in your eyes.

eventually, though, a deep sleep consumes you and you’re awoken again an hour later when you hear the stumble of footsteps into your apartment.

you hear the familiar giggle you’ve been waiting to hear all night and a small smile reaches your sleepy face.

immediately you stand on your bare feet and tread across the hardwood floor towards the foyer of your apartment. however, the sight you see isn’t one you at all anticipated.

there, in front of you, natasha has someone pinned into the dark. her hands are in their hair and you can’t see who it is, nor can you be bothered to figure out, because all you can do is stare at her in silent shock.

you think you hear a name whispered into silent sighs, but your ears don’t pick it up.

you feel your heart in your throat and the familiar feeling of tears starts to sting your eyes. your mouth opens and closes but nothing ever comes out. instead, you watch natasha, as if she were some hologram playing out in front of you like you didn’t exist in the moment. like this was just some sick joke she was playing on you. a mock just to torture you.

and all you can do is watch her.

suddenly, your body shoots up, your eyes along with them and you take in a sharp breath. now, the only thing you see around you is the darkness of your bedroom. it takes a few moments for your mind to adjust, the soft mattress beneath you helps in bringing you back down to earth.

your mind replays the moments before you woke, you feel bile rise into your mouth and you surmise that maybe your mind is trying to get you back for something. or maybe the universe just has a funny way of playing tricks on you.

it leaves an even worse taste in your mouth when you turn to the sleeping man beside you, still deep in peaceful slumber. you cringe at the fact that you dreamt of someone else when you already have someone in your bed.

you read the clock on your nightstand. six thirty-eight. it reads. maybe it’s best to get an early start of the day, you figure there is no point in trying to take your sleep back. so, as a stead you start on breakfast early.

you go about your morning trying to lay your mind off of anything that is natasha romanoff, but it’s quite hard to when she’s ruined your morning by showing up in your dream as the villain in your world of peace. in your world where you’ve tried so hard to leave her behind.

you even think of her as you cook breakfast for the man just down your hall. james, your boyfriend. you make james a stack of your famous french toast, something he has always been vocal about enjoying. and you try not to think about how a part of you feels guilty about what happened this morning; that’s why you’re treating him. but he doesn’t need to know that.

but honestly, it makes your heart feel a little heavy when the man you love walks into the kitchen, nearly an hour later, sleepy as he mutters something about you not being beside him when he woke.

the day drags on, each hour marked by the heaviness in your chest. you go about your usual tasks, but it feels like you're sleepwalking through your life. james notices, of course. he’s attentive like that.

“you okay?” he asks gently while he leans against the doorframe, sipping his coffee as you fold the laundry in the living room. his eyes hold a warmth that’s been your safe harbor for so long now.

you force a small smile and nod, but he’s not entirely convinced. “just a little tired. didn’t sleep well last night.”

james tilts his head, considering you, but doesn’t push further. instead, he sets his mug down and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “you need to take care of yourself too, you know. not just me.”

the guilt creeps back in, coiling around your stomach. james is good, too good, and you hate yourself for even letting your mind stray where it did.

you busy yourself running errands and working on any christmas shopping you’ve got left. you try not to let natasha’s ghost hover around your mind, of her in your dream, pressing against some other stranger in your own home. but you can’t help the betrayal you feel, and how you know that if something as little as a dream was affecting you this much, it meant the power natasha has always had over you hasn’t left. even if it seemed like you were doing so good.

years of almosts and maybes. years of quiet moments were stolen between stolen glances. of natasha brushing her hand against yours when no one was looking, her lingering gaze that always seemed to say more than her words ever could. it was intoxicating and maddening all at once.

you even hate to admit that whenever your friends would even comment on how well you two would fit, your heart would stutter. but natasha would laugh it off in the moment as if it wasn’t something that meant everything to you. then she’d be at your side moments later, back to acting like you maybe had the chance at being at the top of her world.

and yet, whenever the opportunity arose to be something more, she would retreat. like that time years ago, when both of you had been free of any attachments. you’d thought—hoped—that maybe it would finally happen. the night had been perfect; quiet, intimate, charged with an energy you could both feel. she’d leaned in, so close that her breath had warmed your skin, and just as you’d thought she would close the distance… she’d pulled away. the next week, she was with someone new, and you’d been left to pick up the pieces of your heart in silence.

it honestly drove you crazy, the kind of nerve natasha romanoff had. for it to feel like you were at the top of her world and in the next moment act like it meant nothing. it made you even more upset when all natasha would do was watch you show off someone new, with that quiet gaze only you’d be able to catch.

it’s not like you were completely oblivious to her silent jealousy, but she had no right. and if she really wanted you all she had to was say it.

and then james came along. sweet james. james who didn’t deserve any of this. who didn’t deserve someone who wasn’t fully his.

so, when your phone buzzes in your pocket and it’s a text from natasha asking to meet you, you wait a long moment before you type out a reply.

it started as so many things did with natasha—a quiet, persistent tug. it was always small at first, the way her eyes lingered just a second too long, the way her fingers brushed against yours as she handed you something, the way her laugh lit something in your chest you didn’t even realize was dark.

you told yourself it meant nothing. you told yourself it had to mean nothing. it was easier that way, wasn’t it? to push the small moments into corners of your mind where they could stay hidden. you had james now, and james was everything you thought you needed. loving him was simple, uncomplicated, and safe. natasha romanoff was none of those things.

it was a drink. a casual drink, she’d said, as if it hadn’t been months, since the last time you let yourself be close to her like this. and as if it hadn’t been years of unanswered questions, of what-ifs and too-late smiles.

natasha romanoff was back for the holidays, and she wanted to see you.

when you arrived at the dimly lit bar, she was already there, leaning back in her chair with a confidence that could command the entire room. her hair fell in loose waves around her face, her leather jacket hung open, and she looked like the kind of storm you’d run headfirst into despite every warning.

she stood when she saw you, her smile quiet but real, and pulled you into a hug that lingered longer than it should have. you felt it then, her hand resting lightly on your back, her breath close to your ear, and you almost pulled away. almost. but then she was ordering drinks, the conversation flowing so effortlessly you could almost pretend you didn’t feel the shift, that invisible line you were both starting to toe.

for weeks, it went on like this. little meetings that weren’t planned but never felt accidental either. her brushing against you as you reached for your bag, her quiet jokes only meant for you, the way she said your name like it was a secret only she could keep.

it chipped away at you, slowly, quietly, until you were standing on the edge of something you couldn’t quite name. you told yourself it didn’t mean anything, but it was getting harder and harder to believe.

and then there was her apartment.

you didn’t plan to go, not really. it had been another one of those nights, drinks spilling into the early hours, her laughter chasing away the guilt you didn’t want to feel. and it was just three days before christmas, and everything felt so nice and happy, even if you knew what you were doing wasn’t entirely right. she invited you in, and for reasons you couldn’t understand, you followed.

the space was so undeniably her, filled with things you didn’t expect—a stack of books on the coffee table, the faint scent of vanilla in the air, and her christmas tree lit up in a corner. she offered you another drink, but you shook your head, your stomach twisting.

“are you okay?” she asked, and her voice was so gentle it broke something inside you.

you nodded, looking anywhere but at her. “i should go.”

but she stepped closer, and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

“do you want to?” she asked, her voice quieter now, and the weight of her question settled between you like a storm.

you looked at her then, really looked at her, and you saw everything—years of unspoken words, of missed chances, of the quiet love she had tucked away behind every sharp remark and lingering glance.

it hit you like a tidal wave, the years you’d spent waiting for this moment, the years you thought you’d given up on her, and now she was standing here, so close, so real.

but you couldn’t. you shouldn’t.

“natasha…” you whispered, but she was already reaching for you, her hand brushing your face like it was the most natural thing in the world.

and that’s when it happened. the kiss. it was soft, hesitant, and everything you had ever wanted, but it was also wrong. so, so wrong.

you pulled back, your chest heaving, and you could see it in her eyes—she knew.

“why now?” you asked, your voice breaking.

she looks off to the side, as if bracing herself for what she’s going to say. you close your eyes, her hand wraps itself in yours, and you’re already trying to fight back your tears. when she turns back to look at you, you feel them start to fall.

“i love you,” she says, almost apologetically. “i have for a long time.” her lips purse in the way that they do like she’s trying to stop herself from crying as well. “i just really needed you to know that.”

you release a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding, shaking your head you try to pull your hand away from hers, but she only grips it harder.

“stop,” you whisper, and your face scrunches when you feel yourself start to openly cry even more.

“stop what?” you feel her hand on your face trying to wipe your tears, you cringe when you feel yourself lean into her touch.

“you can’t say that.” you shake your head. “you know you can’t say that.”

she caresses you, giving you a sad, wistful smile, “it doesn’t change the fact.” and you can’t help the strangled whine that leaves your mouth at her words.

because how do you act? what do you do when natasha has just put you in the very difficult position you’ve been trying to avoid?

how can you remain normal about anything when natasha has just shattered your whole world?

you shake your head, now determined, tears and all like there’s a part of you ready to be reclaimed. because how dare she? how could she make you wait all these years and do it now? now when things are so so good. now when you have someone back at home waiting to take you into his arms. you’ve waited. you have always waited.

but even statues crumble if they’re made to wait.

and maybe you would have waited longer if it weren’t for him. maybe you would have waited forever, just as long as you knew she’d say those three words to you one day. but things change, people change and you have changed.

because there was a time when you would have done anything just for her to look at you. you would’ve made stars shine for natasha romanoff. and you tried so hard, so hard. but you were so tired, tired of wishing on comets, of trying to orbit her planet, maybe time was just never on your side, maybe it was too late, and maybe some stars weren’t meant to align.

so in one single conversation, you decide to tear down the whole sky.

you look at her, vision blurred by tears, and see her fighting back her own, while her hand still held yours. she looked so fragile, her face pale and her lips pressed together, as if bracing herself for the storm she knew she’d unleashed.

her voice broke first. “i’m sorry,” she said quietly, her words trembling as much as her hand in yours. “i know this isn’t fair. i know it’s not right to say it now, but…” she hesitated, her eyes searching yours for something she’d already lost. “i couldn’t keep it in anymore. i had to tell you.”

you closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, but the flood of emotion was too strong. the years of waiting, of wondering, of wanting—everything you’d buried so deep it ached now rushed to the surface. you felt like you were unraveling.

when you opened your eyes again, her gaze was locked on you, her own tears slipping quietly down her cheeks. “i tried to stay away,” she whispered. “i tried to bury it, to let you be happy, but… it’s you. it’s always been you.”

“natasha…” her name cracked on your tongue like splintered glass. you shook your head, biting back a sob. “you can’t do this to me. not now. not like this.”

she stepped closer, hesitant, as if every movement took all her courage. “i never wanted to hurt you,” she said, her voice soft but unsteady. “i thought—god, i thought i was doing the right thing. that if i stayed away, you’d move on, and maybe i would too. but i can’t. i can’t move on from you.”

her words hit you like a tidal wave, and you turned away, needing to put space between you. your heart was breaking, shattering into pieces you couldn’t begin to pick up, because you knew what she was saying was real. and that made it so much worse.

“do you know how long i waited for this?” you asked, your voice trembling. “how long i waited for you to say something, to choose me?” you turned back to her, tears spilling freely down your face. “and now, after all this time, when i finally found something good, something stable, you decide it’s time to speak up?”

“i didn’t plan this,” she said, her voice almost desperate. “i didn’t want to ruin what you have. i just—” she stopped, running a hand through her hair as she struggled to find the words. “i couldn’t keep pretending anymore. pretending i didn’t love you.”

the weight of her words hit you again, and you had to steady yourself against the back of the couch. you shook your head, trying to find clarity in the storm she’d just unleashed in your chest.

“you don’t get to do this, natasha,” you said, your voice firm despite the crack in it. “you don’t get to say this now and expect everything to be okay. i can’t… i can’t just throw everything away because you suddenly decided to tell me how you feel.”

her face crumpled, and you saw her wipe at her eyes quickly, almost angrily. “i’m not asking you to throw anything away,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “i just… i needed you to know. i needed you to know how much you mean to me, even if i’m too late.”

her honesty gutted you. this wasn’t the confident, unshakable natasha romanoff the world knew. this was the raw, broken version of her you’d only seen in fleeting glimpses, and it was almost enough to undo you.

but you couldn’t.

“i love him,” you said, and the words felt like a knife twisting in your chest. “i love james. and i can’t do this to him. he doesn’t deserve it.” and you do. you love him. you love james. james is good, and he loves you, he makes you laugh, and he feels right.

natasha nodded slowly, her tears falling silently now. she looked down at the floor, her hands hanging limp at her sides. “i know,” she said, her voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. “i know he doesn’t. and neither do you.”

the weight of her words hit you harder than anything else. you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to look at her, to really see her for what felt like the last time.

“then you’ll understand why i have to walk away,” you said, your voice softer now but no less certain. “i can’t keep holding onto something that was never meant to be. it’s killing me.”

her head snapped up, her eyes wide and filled with pain. “i never meant to hurt you,” she said, her voice breaking.

“i know,” you said, and the truth of it made your tears fall faster. “but you did. and i can’t let you keep doing it. i won’t.”

you turned toward the door, your steps heavy, your heart shattered. you didn’t know if you would ever feel whole again, but you knew you couldn’t stay. not this time.

and as you leave her apartment and snow starts to fall, you can’t help but feel the irony.

you cry all the way back home, not caring about the people who give you concerned looks as you pass them on the busy new york city sidewalks.

when you get home, you find james on the couch, his laptop balanced on his lap. he looks up at your figure by the door, the smile he has only ever reserved for you falls into a frown when he sees your tear-stained cheeks.

he sets his laptop beside him, a worried expression on his face, “what happened?” he tries to reach for you.

his question makes your resolve break all at once. a small sob leaves your lips and you fall straight into his arms as soon as you get close enough.

you just cry. for a very long moment, and he holds you through it all. when you finally lift your head from his chest his eyebrows furrow, inviting you to say anything, but understanding if you don’t want to.

but you just look at him. you see the look in his eyes, the way his hands brush away the hair from your face, and how they try to wipe away your falling tears. how do even tell him? how could you ever think of ending his world when you’re his?

but he’s the first to say it before you can.

“is it about natasha?” he asks, hesitantly. his question makes you pause.

your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare at him. his voice, steady but soft, holds no anger, no blame—just a quiet understanding that makes your heart ache even more.

“how…” you whisper, your voice cracking. “how did you know?”

james sighs, his hands still cradling your face. he hesitates, searching for the right words. “i’ve always known, i think. not everything, but enough to see it. the way you look when her name comes up. the way your eyes drift when you think i don’t notice.” he swallows hard, his voice shaking slightly. “i didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to believe it was something that could come between us. but…” he exhales, his lips pressing into a thin line. “it’s been there, hasn’t it? for a long time.”

the guilt twists in your chest, sharp and unrelenting. you nod slowly, tears slipping down your cheeks as you look away. “i’m sorry,” you choke out. “i’m so sorry, james. i never wanted to hurt you. i swear, i—”

“i know,” he interrupts gently, his voice breaking as he cups your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “i know you didn’t.”

the kindness in his gaze undoes you, and you collapse into him again, your sobs muffled against his shoulder. he doesn’t say anything, just holds you tighter, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

when your breathing evens out, you pull away, your face red and blotchy, but your resolve is clearer now. you owe him the truth. you owe both of you that much.

“she told me,” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “she told me she loves me. that she’s loved me for a long time.”

james flinches, just slightly, but it’s enough for you to notice. his jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment, as if he’s bracing himself.

“i didn’t want to hear it,” you continue, your voice trembling. “because… because i know what it means. and i know what it could do to us.”

his eyes snap back to yours, wide and filled with pain, but also something deeper: a quiet, unshakable love. “and what do you want?” he asks, his voice low but steady.

the question hangs in the air, heavy and unrelenting. you feel like the world has stopped spinning, every second stretching into eternity.

what do you want?

you close your eyes, forcing yourself to think past the ache in your chest, past the confusion and guilt, and longing that natasha always seems to leave in her wake. you think of james—of his warmth, his steady presence, the way he’s always been there, loving you unconditionally.

and then you think of natasha—the chaos, the heartbreak, the endless waiting. the way she makes you feel like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, exhilarated and terrified all at once.

“i want…” you begin, your voice trembling, “i want this to stop hurting.” you open your eyes, looking at james with all the honesty you can muster. “i want to be here, with you. i want to be the person you deserve. but i don’t know how to let go of her. i don’t know if i ever have.”

james’s face softens, and he nods slowly as if he’s been preparing for this moment all along. “then let me help you,” he says quietly. “we’ll figure it out together. whatever it takes.”

his words hit you like a lifeline, and for the first time in weeks, maybe months, you feel a glimmer of hope. you nod, fresh tears streaming down your face as you lean into him, letting his embrace ground you.

you don’t know how long it will take to heal, or if you’ll ever fully untangle yourself from the grip natasha has on your heart.

but you do know that all that will be left is for you to wonder. to wonder what would have happened, if you’d waited, if she said something sooner, if time had been on your side.

and even years later, you’d still wonder. even after selling your apartment and buying one with james. even after you hear that natasha has married some woman you won't ever bother learning the name of.

and as the years continue to pass you will still wonder, you will wonder if she thinks of you from time to time the way you do and if she’s doing okay.

but the wondering will always just stay as that, and you won’t care enough to let it consume you. not anymore.

because all it is, is just a small echo in your world that you’ve built comfortably far away from natasha romanoff.

[keepingitformyself]

ok so funny story, christmas is probably mentioned like thrice, but it’s so incredibly angsty bear yourselves 😭

sad tasha christmas fic yay or nay?

[keepingitformyself]

guys i was like 2.3k into this natasha christmas fic but then i was like no i don’t like where this is going and i don’t like the base of it so anyways i’m rewriting something with a diff storyline 😭

[keepingitformyself]

just binge watched hawkeye and lowkey what if i throw out a kate bishop fic

[keepingitformyself]

got done w finals yesterday, will be getting lots of writing done now FINALLY

Born to write fics, forced to study

[keepingitformyself]

ok yas im like 70% done w my final projects/final exams i just got to turn them in and take them 👅

[keepingitformyself]

FUCK finals week

[keepingitformyself]

hello!!! masterlist is fully up to date! heheheh check it outtt

MASTERLIST:

last updated: 12/3/24

natasha romanoff:

call my bluff, call you babe

and it bears repeating how hard my heart’s beating

cross my heart, won’t tell no other

you feel a fool…

the ones i love

beautiful stranger, here you are(in my arms)

there was nowhere for me to stay(but i stayed anyways)

this is me praying that this was the very first page

learning to warm cold hands

there’s been no way for me to say (that i felt a certain way)

and my waves meet your shore

especially for tender ones like us

marry, kiss, or kill me?

series:

we might just get away with it: part i part ii part iii

part of the WMJGAWI universe:

a deep portal, time travel (all the love we unravel)

headcanons:

natasha being in love with you

[keepingitformyself]

happy birthday to my wife gf fiance partner husband bf crush and pookie (real)

you totally would have successfully assassinated d*nald tr*mp had it been you that shot him that one time 😍