#natasha romanoff

[incorrectquotesmcu]

Y/N, shaking a Magic 8 Ball: Does Nat like me?

Magic 8 Ball: “Don’t count on it.”

Y/N: Oh…

Natasha, sitting next to them in bed: Y/N, we’ve been married for five years.

[miss-carter]

Scarlett Johansson as Natasha Romanoff CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER (2014) dir. The Russo Brothers

[captaincartertv]

“Nat, are you okay?”

“No”

[natsaffection]

Auge um Auge. p. 3 | N.R.

Investigator!older!Natasha x Robber!younger! reader

Warnings: steamy tension, Natasha being overall cute

Word count: 5,9k

A/n: I love writing love confessions..🫂👀

The heist had already been ongoing for a few days, and the tension between the robbers and the police had become unbearable. The professor had anticipated the police’s response and had tasked you with laying the groundwork for the next step: infiltrating the police’s command network with a cleverly disguised trap.

Using your hacking skills, you had inserted malicious code into the police communication network. The code caused intermittent failures in critical systems like surveillance cameras, encrypted communication channels, and tactical coordination tools. It wasn’t a complete blackout, but it created enough chaos to leave the police scrambling for solutions.

“They’ll think it’s a sophisticated hack.” the professor had said. “And when they realize their own tech team can’t fix it, they’ll seek outside help. That’s where you come in.” You had smiled, though your stomach churned with nerves. “What if they don’t take the bait?” The professor had adjusted his glasses, his voice calm. “Trust me, they will. You’ve done good groundwork, and Natasha will bite.”

Officers shouted over each other, screens blinked with error messages, and the air was thick with rising panic. The robbers had taken over multiple police systems, rerouted communication channels, and disrupted surveillance feeds. Worse, they had fed the unit targeted misinformation, nearly leading to a catastrophic operation that left officers in complete disarray.

Maria sat at the central workstation, her jaw clenched as she desperately tried to regain control. “It’s like they’re toying with us..” she muttered, staring at the corrupted data streams on her screen. “They know exactly where to hit us. Natasha stood nearby, her arms tightly crossed. “How bad is it?”

“They’ve locked us out of certain areas of our own system.” Maria said sharply. “And their encryption? It’s not standard. It feels almost..experimental. Natasha frowned. “Can you crack it?” Maria paused, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, then exhaled sharply. “Maybe. But not fast enough. They’re three steps ahead, and we don’t have time to lose.” Natasha hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Then we need someone who thinks like them.”Maria turned to her, narrowing her eyes. “What are you suggesting?”

“I know someone who could help us.” Natasha said cautiously. “A civilian. Brilliant with tech, unpredictable, exactly the type of person who could mirror the robbers’ creativity.” Maria’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A civilian? You can’t be serious, Natasha. This isn’t some neighborhood dispute, this is a high-risk, top operation. And you want to bring in someone off the street?”

“She’s not just ‘anyone.’” Natasha countered firmly. “I trust her.” Maria scoffed. “And that’s supposed to reassure me? I trust you, Natasha, but this? You want to involve an outsider in our operation?”

“We’re already exposed!” Natasha snapped, her voice rising. “They’ve hacked our systems, locked us out, and led us straight into a trap. We can’t keep doing the same thing and expect different results.” Maria folded her arms. “And you think your civilian will magically solve everything?”

“I think she’s our best chance.” Natasha said. “Maria, you’re the best there is, but even you said this isn’t standard. This encryption? It’s personal. We need someone who thinks like the person who designed it.” An officer hurried over to Maria with a report. “Ma’am, they’ve breached the surveillance network in the eastern quadrant. We’re blind.”

Maria slammed her hands on the table and cursed under her breath. “Damn it.” Natasha stepped closer. “We don’t have time to debate this. You need help, Maria. And you know it.” Maria stared at her. “Even if I agreed, why her? Why would she agree to this?” Natasha hesitated, her jaw tightening. “Because she’s already involved.” Maria frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She’s the one who gave us the tip about the camera.” Natasha admitted. “She’s brilliant, completely unassuming, but she knows things. I think- no, I know she’s exactly the type of person who could have designed this encryption herself.” Maria shook her head. “You’re taking a huge risk.”

Natasha’s voice softened. “If this fails, it’s my responsibility. But if we don’t try, we’ll lose this fight. And we can’t afford that.” Maria sighed and rubbed her temples. “Fine. But if this backfires, you’re the one taking the fall.”

Natasha found you in your usual spot at the café, your laptop open and your fingers flying across the keyboard. You paused when you saw her approaching, your eyes widening slightly. “This is becoming a habit..” you said with a nervous laugh. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

Natasha dropped into the chair across from you, her expression serious. “I don’t have time chatting this time, we need your help.” You tilted your head, trying to look confused. “With what?”Natasha leaned back slightly, crossing her arms. “My team’s systems have been compromised. Surveillance feeds, encrypted communication..they’ve all been affected by some sort of evolving encryption. We can’t crack it.” You raised an intrigued eyebrow. “And you think I can?”

“You’ve already proven you can.” Natasha said firmly. “The sniper incident..if it weren’t for you, we’d have walked right into an ambush. You see things my team doesn’t, and I’m not too proud to admit it.” You tried to appear hesitant. She’s taken the bait. “Natasha, I’m just a freelancer..I’ve never worked on anything of this scale before.”

“I trust you.” Natasha said, her voice steady. “And I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.” You swallowed, the sincerity in Natasha’s eyes tightening something in your chest. Stick to the plan, you reminded yourself. Finally, you nodded. “Okay, I’ll help.”

You entered the command tent under Natasha’s watchful eye, feeling the weight of every officer’s gaze on you. Maria was waiting at the workstation, her expression skeptical but resigned. “You must be Y/n.” Maria said, gesturing toward the monitors. “Show us what you can do.”

The professor’s words echoed in your head: “Stay calm. You’re one of them now. Look nervous, but not too nervous. Don’t let their chaos overwhelm you, control it.” But as you ventured deeper into the tent, it became harder to ignore the efficiency and organization of the police. Large maps of the bank were spread across tables, officers compared information, and intercepted radio transmissions flashed on the screens.

Your eyes landed on a monitor, and your breath caught. Names. Two names. Tokyo. Rio. The police had already identified two members of the crew. You froze for a moment, your thoughts racing. How? How could they already know their names? And why didn’t you know about this?

Natasha noticed your hesitation and approached with a clipboard in hand. “Y/n?” she said, her tone firm but not unfriendly. “Is everything okay?” You blinked and snapped out of your daze. Forcing a small smile onto your face, you said, “Yeah, sorry. It’s just..a lot.” Natasha’s eyes softened slightly. “It’s overwhelming, I know. You’re walking into a warzone here, and this isn’t an easy place to be.”

You nodded quickly, doing your best to play the role of an overwhelmed civilian. “It’s just..I didn’t expect it to be this serious. Seeing all of this..” Natasha gave you a reassuring smile. “You’re doing great. Just focus on your part. We’ll handle the rest.” You nodded again, but your stomach churned. Your nerves weren’t entirely an act anymore. The reality of standing in the enemy’s camp, surrounded by people working tirelessly to unravel the professor’s plan, hit you harder than you’d anticipated.

You sat down at a workstation, your fingers trembling slightly as you typed. You had to stay on course, complete your task without raising suspicion. But your thoughts kept drifting back to the screens with Tokyo and Rio’s names. If they were already so close to those two, how much longer before they found the rest? Natasha stood nearby, her presence both comforting and unsettling. You could feel her watchful gaze on you, her concern growing with every passing second. “You’re doing great.” Natasha said quietly, crouching beside you.

You forced a weak smile, your voice shaky. “Thanks.”The professor had arranged a distraction inside the bank, chaos that was meant to make your role as a nervous civilian more believable. The crew was supposed to fire shots into the air, throwing the police into panic and creating the perfect diversion for you to finish your task. But you were so lost in your own thoughts that you’d completely forgotten about the plan. When the sharp crack of gunfire echoed through the tent’s speakers, you flinched violently, your eyes widening in genuine fear.

Natasha frowned, her expression sharp. “Shots fired inside the bank!” she said grimly, grabbing a radio. “We need visuals on the situation, now!” Your heart raced, your mind screaming at you to get a grip. It’s the plan. It’s part of the plan. But the sound of the gunfire had shaken you to your core. You were too close to the enemy, too exposed. For the first time, the weight of what you were doing, the danger you were in hit you fully. Natasha noticed your trembling hands and pale face. “Hey..” she said gently, stepping closer. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.”

“I..I’m sorry..” you stammered, your voice breaking. “I just…it startled me, that’s all.” Natasha’s expression softened, her concern deepening. “This isn’t something most people are prepared for.” she said quietly. “You’re doing more than we could ever ask of you. But if it’s too much, you can stop. No one would blame you.”

“No.” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I can do this. I just need..a minute.” Natasha hesitated, then nodded. “Take all the time you need.” As you tried to steady your breathing, Natasha watched you closely, her own thoughts racing. She admired your bravery. Walking into such a dangerous situation as a civilian was no small feat. You looked up and caught Natasha watching you. “What?”

“Nothing.” Natasha said quickly, forcing a small smile. “I…I just admire your courage.” You blinked, surprised. “Courage?” Natasha nodded. “Most people wouldn’t put themselves in a situation like this. You could’ve said no when I asked. But you didn’t. That says a lot about you.” You swallowed hard, guilt churning in your stomach. “Thank you..” you murmured, turning your gaze away.

Eventually, you regained your composure, finished your task, and planted the necessary code into the police’s system. But as you left the tent, Natasha’s words echoed in your mind. “You could’ve said no. But you didn’t.” You had just led Natasha directly into the trap, exactly as the professor had planned. But for the first time, you began to wonder if the cost of the plan was too high. Your hands hovered over the keyboard as you pressed the final key, and the tent filled with the sound of systems coming back online. The previously chaotic screens now displayed a smoothly functioning network.

Natasha, standing nearby, let out a deep breath, visibly relieved. “You did it.” she said, her voice full of genuine admiration. You forced a small smile, but inside, your heart was racing. The professor’s instructions had been clear: “Plant the backdoor. Subtly, cleanly. Once you’re out, we’ll have access to everything.” That’s exactly what you’d done. The professor now had ears inside the tent, but you couldn’t let your relief show on your face.

Natasha approached, placing a hand on your shoulder. “That was incredible work, Y/n. I don’t know how you did it.”

“I’m just glad I could help.” you said, trying to sound humble. Quickly, you packed up your laptop, eager to escape the suffocating tension in the tent. As you slung your bag over your shoulder, Natasha stepped in front of you, her green eyes softer. “You’ve been through a lot today..” she said. “More than anyone in your position should have to.” You looked around nervously. “I’m fine.”

Natasha frowned slightly. “I don’t think you are.” She paused, her voice turning gentler. “How about some fresh air? A walk. After all this, you could use a distraction.” You hesitated. You weren’t sure if being alone with Natasha was a good idea. But her gaze was honest, her concern disarming. Finally, you nodded. “Okay.”

Natasha smiled and led you out of the tent. The two of you walked along a quiet path in a nearby park, the tension of the command tent slowly fading behind you. The fresh air was a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the tent, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Natasha studied you for a moment, her gaze softening. “You’re braver than you give yourself credit for.”

You looked away, guilt twisting in your chest. You wouldn’t say that if you knew the truth, you thought. You stopped at a bench near a cluster of trees, the calm of the night settling around you. Natasha sat down and gestured for you to join her. For a moment, silence reigned, broken only by distant sirens and rustling leaves. “You were really scared in there..” Natasha said quietly, turning to you. You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Finally, you nodded, your voice barely a whisper. “Hearing those gunshots…it was real. I’ve never been that close to something so…dangerous.”

Natasha’s expression softened further. “You never get used to it.” she admitted. “But it’s also not something you should have to go through.” You looked at her, the genuine concern in her eyes tightening something in your chest. “Why do you care so much?” you asked before you could stop yourself. Natasha blinked, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” You hesitated. “You barely know me. But you’re going out of your way to make sure I’m okay.” Natasha’s gaze dropped for a moment before meeting yours again, her expression unreadable. “Because I see that you’re a good person.” she said simply. “And because I’ve been where you are, thrown into something I didn’t ask for, feeling like I had to prove myself.”

As the two of you continued walking, the conversation grew more relaxed. Natasha shared stories about the less glamorous parts of her job, staking out warehouses in freezing temperatures, dealing with endless bureaucracy, and the time an overeager recruit accidentally locked her in a supply closet. You laughed despite yourself, the tension in your chest easing for the first time in hours. “You make it sound so… glamorous.”

Natasha grinned. “Oh, it’s every little girl’s dream. Dodging bullets, endless paperwork, terrible coffee. What more could you want?” You shook your head, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “I can’t believe you’re actually human.” Natasha raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. “Don’t let that get out. I have a reputation to maintain.” By the time you returned to the tent, you felt more at ease but also more conflicted. Natasha’s kindness and humor had broken through your defenses, leaving you questioning your role in the heist.

As Natasha held the tent flap open for you, she smiled. “You were amazing today, Y/n. Really.” You nodded, your throat tight. “Thanks. I… you know where to find me.”

————————————————————————

The bell above the café door jingled, pulling you back to the present. It was already late at night, and you were back in your usual corner. Her shift had gone on longer than you’d expected…You glanced up casually, expecting another late-night coffee addict. Instead, your eyes narrowed slightly when you recognized the woman who walked in.

Maria.

You remembered her from the command tent. Sharp and authoritative, someone who missed no details. What was she doing here at this hour? Your curiosity flared as Maria approached the counter, ordered a coffee, and then sat in a secluded corner. Her posture was casual, but you noticed her eyes scanning the room, as if assessing potential threats..or watching someone.

You barely paid Maria any attention until she pulled out her phone and dialed a number. Something about her body language shifted..relaxed, but not entirely. Whoever was on the other end was clearly someone she trusted. Ever the opportunist, you opened your laptop and connected to the café’s public Wi-Fi. A few quick keystrokes later, you intercepted Maria’s phone signal. A faint hum played through your headphones as you tapped into the call..curiosity had won. The connection stabilized, and a voice came through that made your breath hitch.

Natasha.

“Hey..” Natasha said, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Hey…” Maria replied warmly. “Still in?”

“Yep…” Natasha sighed with a light laugh. Your fingers froze on the keyboard. What the hell? You hadn’t expected a private, casual conversation. You should disconnect. You should. But your curiosity burned too brightly. A pause followed, a familiar silence that hinted at a shared history. You frowned slightly and leaned closer to your screen.

“How are things? We haven’t really had time to talk lately.” Natasha asked, her voice quieter now.

“Well… I miss it, honestly…talking to you all the time, I mean. It feels like old times.” Maria replied.

Natasha didn’t respond immediately, and you heard the faint sound of her shifting in her chair. “Maria…”

Maria chuckled softly. “Relax, Nat. I’m not trying to stir anything up. I just wanted to check on you.”

An uneasy feeling churned in your stomach. You knew you were intruding on something deeply personal, but you couldn’t stop listening.

“I noticed something today..” Maria began cautiously but firmly. “That girl you brought into the tent…You’re spending quite a bit of time with her. And guess who’s sitting a few tables away from me?” A pause followed before Natasha answered, her voice sharper. “Wait…”

“She’s here. Midnight. Alone.” Natasha’s sharp intake of breath was audible. “You can see her?”

“Yes.” Maria said, her tone softening. “And before you say anything-no, I’m not going to approach her. I’m just trying to understand why she’s so important to you.”

“What?” Natasha began, but her voice faltered. She exhaled sharply, her tone shifting. “Maria, she’s been through a lot today.” Natasha said quietly. “And she’s helping us.”

“She’s helping you.” Maria corrected, her voice gentle but firm. “You brought her into the team. You’re the one spending all this time with her.”

Natasha sighed softly, almost as if she’d expected this. “Can we stop talking about this? I know where this is going…”

Maria’s voice softened. “Fine. Then I’ll just ask outright. Do you want to sleep with her?”

You choked on your coffee, quickly covering your mouth to avoid drawing attention to yourself. You glanced at Maria, who was still sitting calmly, completely unaware of the chaos she’d just caused. “Maria, seriously-”

“You’re not denying it…” Maria teased, her tone playful.

Your first instinct was to disconnect, but your hand hovered over the keyboard, frozen. This is too much. I shouldn’t be listening…But your curiosity won out. You leaned back slightly, guilt rising in your chest. I shouldn’t be here. But… I want to know…

A long pause followed. Natasha exhaled slowly. “You’re using the wrong word.”

“What do you mean?” Maria asked, confused.

“‘Sleep.’” Natasha said, her voice quieter now. “That sounds like a one-night stand. Like something meaningless.”

Maria chuckled softly, though it sounded sad. “And you want more than that?”

“Yeah..why not.” Natasha admitted, her voice steady but vulnerable. “If I were with her, it wouldn’t just be that. She’s not someone you just ‘sleep’ with.”

Your head spun, Natasha’s words echoing in your mind. She doesn’t want something meaningless. She wants… something more? Your heart fluttered, and a nervous laugh bubbled up in your throat. She’s not someone you just sleep with. Those words felt both impossibly heavy and surprisingly light. You clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle a grin. Stop acting like a teenager! This isn’t normal! But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the warmth spreading through your chest, or the guilt of eavesdropping on something so personal.

“Just be careful, Nat…” Maria said quietly. “That kind of trust is hard to earn. And if you’re not careful, it’ll hurt both of you.”

“I know.” Natasha replied, her voice firm but tinged with emotion. “Thanks for caring, Maria. But I’ve got this.”

Maria sighed, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. “Goodnight, Natasha.”

“Goodnight.” Natasha said, and the line went dead.

The connection ended, leaving you sitting there, completely stunned. You leaned back in your chair, staring at your laptop as if it might explode at any moment. Your cheeks burned, and your mind raced, replaying Natasha’s hesitant “Yeah..why not” over and over. What the hell just happened? you thought, running a hand through your hair. You’d hacked into Maria’s phone for a tactical advantage, not…whatever this was!

Natasha Romanoff wants to be with me?

Your thoughts shattered as Maria stood up and began walking toward you. You froze, your breath catching. She knows. She figured it out! I’m done for. Maria stopped at your table, her sharp eyes studying you closely. You gripped the edge of your laptop, your heart pounding so loudly you thought it might burst. “Everything okay?” Maria asked, her voice softer than you’d expected. “You’re here alone at midnight. That’s…unusual.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I’m fine!” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “I…I’m just working.” Maria studied you for a moment longer, then nodded. “Alright. Take care of yourself.” She turned and walked away, leaving you frozen in place, your head still spinning.

Meanwhile the activity in the command tent began to wind down for the night. Officers moved between desks, and the soft hum of conversations filled the air. Natasha leaned against a table scattered with files, her arms crossed as she studied the timeline of the heist on the main screen. Yet her thoughts weren’t entirely on the case. Maria’s words from earlier replayed in her mind, “She’s here. At midnight. Alone. I’m just trying to understand why she’s so important to you.”

Natasha sighed quietly, running a hand through her hair. Maria wasn’t wrong. You were always alone, and Natasha couldn’t shake the image of you sitting in that café, typing on your laptop as if you had nowhere else to be. It unsettled her in a way she couldn’t fully explain, and Maria’s direct question only made it worse.

“Why is she so important to you?”

Natasha pushed off the table as the commander signaled the end of the shift for the night. It was late, and most of the team members were heading home. Normally, Natasha would stay longer, but tonight she felt the urge to leave. You listened through your earpiece and when you heard the commander announce the end of the shift, you exhaled in relief. Finally. Natasha was leaving the tent, which meant you could leave too.

You started packing your things, sliding your laptop into your bag as you prepared to leave. The familiar chime of the doorbell froze you mid-motion. Your heart sank as you saw who had just walked in. Natasha stepped into the café, her eyes scanning the room quickly before landing on you. Her expression softened slightly as she approached, her movements deliberate but calm.

You froze, your bag only half-closed. Your heart pounded as Natasha closed the distance between you, her presence overwhelming even in casual clothes. “Hi.” Natasha said, her voice warm but tinged with concern. You forced a smile, trying to keep your voice steady. “Natasha? What are you doing here?” Natasha slid into the seat across from you, propping her elbows on the table. “I could ask you the same thing. I just got off work. Thought I’d check on you.”

“Again?” you laughed, your nervousness slipping into your tone. Natasha tilted her head slightly, studying you. “You’re always here late. Alone. That doesn’t seem right to me.” You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the table. She’s noticed. She’s been paying attention.. “I…I like working at night. I’m fine, really.” you said quickly, your voice trembling slightly. Natasha raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “That’s the second time you’ve said that. Are you sure that’s the only reason?”

You hesitated, your mind racing. What does she want me to say? You looked down at your hands, fiddling nervously with your bag strap. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do.” Natasha said gently. “It’s midnight. Most people your age are either at home or out with friends. Why are you always here?” Your chest tightened. Natasha’s tone wasn’t accusatory. It was gentle, caring, and that made it even harder to deflect. You felt the weight of her gaze, the genuine concern in her eyes. “I… I just like it here.” you mumbled, avoiding her gaze. “It’s nothing.”

Natasha sighed, leaning back slightly. “I’m not trying to pry. But you shouldn’t be here alone so late.” You looked at her, your stomach twisting. She thinks I’m alone because I have no one. She’s not entirely wrong, but the real reason is so much more complicated.. “Come with me.” Natasha said suddenly, her voice soft but firm. You blinked, your eyes widening. “W-What?”

“Come with me.” Natasha repeated, her gaze steady. “To my place. You shouldn’t be here alone this late.” Your heart raced, panic rising in your chest. Go with her? To her place? I can’t. You shook your head quickly, your voice stumbling. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Why not?” Natasha asked, her tone calm but insistent. “You’ll be safe. You can bring your work if you want. But I don’t want to leave you here.”

“I..” You hesitated, your mind spiraling. What if she’s testing me? What if it’s a trap? Natasha leaned across the table, her hand brushing yours lightly. “Please..” she said softly. “I’ll feel better knowing you’re somewhere safe.” You stared at her, the sincerity in Natasha’s voice making your chest ache. She doesn’t know. She has no idea who I really am. She’s just…worried. “Okay..” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’ll come with you.”

Natasha’s apartment was exactly what you’d expected..minimalistic yet elegant, with clean lines and an undeniable sense of order. The open-concept living room was softly lit, a bottle of red wine sat on the counter, and the faint scent of cedar lingered in the air. The space felt personal yet guarded, much like the woman herself.

You stood awkwardly near the couch, unsure of where to put your hands or your thoughts. This wasn’t where you’d ever imagined yourself, and the thought of what might happen here made your stomach twist with nerves. Natasha, however, seemed completely at ease, shrugging off her jacket and tossing it casually onto a nearby chair. “Make yourself comfortable.” she said, her voice calm yet warm, catching you off guard. “Want something to drink?”

“Uh…no, thanks.” you replied quickly, your nerves making you sound more jittery than you intended. Natasha glanced over her shoulder at you, her lips quirking into a small, knowing smile. “Relax. I don’t bite.” You managed a weak laugh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “That’s…good to know.”

Natasha chuckled softly as she settled onto the couch with a grace that seemed effortless. She grabbed the remote and gestured for you to join her. “Come on. Sit. I thought we could watch something.” You hesitated for a moment before walking over and sinking into the cushion next to her. Not too close, but not too far. Natasha noticed and smiled to herself but said nothing.

“What do you want to watch?” she asked, scrolling through streaming options. “Action? Comedy? Something completely ridiculous?” You shrugged, trying to focus on her question instead of the growing tension in your chest. “Something light, I guess. Nothing too intense.”

“Alright.” Natasha said, selecting a movie and setting the remote aside. She leaned back, draping her arm over the back of the couch, close enough for you to feel the faint warmth of her skin. The movie started, the sound filling the quiet space, but you found it hard to focus on the screen.

Fifteen minutes in, you were acutely aware of every detail about Natasha..her presence, her proximity, the subtle scent of her perfume. She sat close enough that her arm occasionally brushed yours, and you felt her gaze on you now and then. You tried to concentrate on the movie, but your thoughts kept wandering. Why had she invited you here? Was this just her way of unwinding, or was there something..more? The possibility made your heart race.

Then you felt it…her hand on your shoulder. At first, it was a light touch that could’ve been accidental. But then her fingers curled slightly, her palm resting firmly on your shoulder, and you realized it wasn’t a mistake. You froze slightly, your breath hitching. Natasha noticed immediately. “You look like you’re waiting for something to explode.” You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “Maybe I am.” Natasha raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “It’s just me. You don’t have to be so tense.”

Just her. That was the problem. It wasn’t just her! It was her. Natasha Romanoff: sharp, confident, undeniably alluring. You had no idea how you’d ended up here, in her apartment, watching a movie, feeling like the ground beneath you had completely shifted. “I know.” you murmured, trying to steady your voice. “I… just…”

Natasha leaned closer, her hand sliding from your shoulder lightly down your arm. “I’m not going to do anything you’re not comfortable with. You know that, right?” You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Of course!” For a moment, neither of you spoke, the sound of the movie filling the space between you. The way she looked at you, with a mix of amusement and something warmer, softer made your breath catch. Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “I’m not good at this.” Natasha tilted her head, her smile returning. “Not good at what?”

“This..” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “Being here. With you. It’s…I don’t know. You make it hard to think straight.” For a moment, Natasha just stared at you, and you felt your cheeks heat. But then she laughed, a soft, genuine laugh that made your stomach flip. “That’s cute.” she said, her tone carrying a playful edge. “You’re nervous.”

“I’m not-” you began, but the look she gave you stopped your denial mid-sentence. “Okay, maybe a little.” Natasha’s smile softened. “Why?” she asked, her voice quiet but genuinely curious. “Why does this make you nervous?” You hesitated, your heart racing as you searched for the right words. “Because…it’s you..” you finally admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “You’re…I don’t know. You’re intimidating. I-In a good way! And I don’t exactly have a lot of experience with…this kind of thing.” Natasha leaned forward slightly, resting her elbow on the back of the couch as she turned toward you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure..” you said, trying not to sound as nervous as you felt. “Why does this make you so uneasy?” she asked gently, her voice devoid of teasing now. “Is it exactly me? Or…something else?” You hesitated, your heart pounding as you considered your answer. “It’s not you..” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “It’s…I guess it’s just that this feels… different.”

“Different how?” Natasha pressed, though her tone remained careful, as if she didn’t want to push too hard. “Like… I don’t know!! Like it matters..” you admitted, your cheeks flushing. “And that scares me.” Natasha’s expression softened further, her gaze searching yours. “I don’t want to scare you.” she said quietly. “That’s the last thing I want.”

“You don’t.” you said quickly. “It’s just…I don’t really know what I’m doing here.” Natasha studied you for a long moment, as if weighing her next move carefully. Then she spoke, her voice low and steady. “Would you tell me if I did something that made you uncomfortable?” You nodded. “Of course.”

“Okay.” Natasha said, exhaling softly. She shifted slightly closer, her hand resting gently on the back of the couch. “Because I want to kiss you. But only if you want me to.” Your breath caught, her words sending a wave of nervous excitement through you. You stared at her, your heart racing as you processed what she’d said. “I’ve never-” Natasha cut in gently, her tone steady. “It’s okay. We don’t have to.”

But something in her patience, in the way she didn’t push or demand, made you take a shaky breath and nod. “I think I want to..” you said softly. Natasha didn’t move immediately, her eyes staying locked on yours. “You’re sure?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“Yes.” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly but sincere. Only then did she lean in, her movements slow and deliberate, giving you every opportunity to change your mind. When her lips finally met yours, it was soft, so soft that it left you breathless. Her hand cupped your cheek gently, her thumb brushing against your skin as if to steady you.

The kiss was unhurried, warm, and filled with a tenderness that surprised you. You felt yourself relax into it, your nervousness melting away as you kissed her back. Natasha pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, her forehead resting lightly against yours. “You okay?” she asked softly. You nodded, a small, shy smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah..” Her lips curved into a smile of her own, and she pressed a brief, tender kiss to your forehead. “Good.” she murmured. She leaned in again, her hand remained on your cheek. The connection was both electrifying and calming, as if nothing else in the world mattered except for this.

But just as the kiss began to deepen, Natasha pulled back slightly, resting her forehead against yours. Her breath was warm, and her voice was soft but resolute. “We should stop..” she said gently. You opened your eyes, looking at her. “Why?”

Natasha gave you a faint smile, her fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “Because you’ve had a long day. And because I don’t want this to feel rushed. For either of us.” You bit your lip, your cheeks heating again. “You think I’m not ready?”

“I think you’re nervous.” Natasha replied honestly. “And I don’t want you to feel like we have to go anywhere tonight. We don’t.” Her words felt like a weight lifting off your chest. She wasn’t angry, wasn’t pressuring you, she was giving you space, something you hadn’t even realized you needed. “Thank you.” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Natasha tilted her head, her smile softening. “For what?”

“For being patient with me.” you admitted, your cheeks flushing again. Her smile grew softer still, and she pressed a brief, tender kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest.” she said quietly. “You’ve earned it.” Natasha stood, walking into the kitchen and pouring you a glass of water. After a moment, she returned and set it on the coffee table in front of you. “You can take the bed.” she said as she settled back onto the couch. “I’ll sleep here.” Your eyes widened. “What? No! This is your apartment.”

“Exactly.” Natasha replied with a playful glint in her eye. “And I’m saying you take the bed. No arguments.” You shook your head, laughing softly. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been called worse..” Natasha said with a smirk. The playful exchange eased your nerves further, and you found yourself smiling as you stood and stretched. “Fine. But if you wake up with a sore neck, don’t blame me.” Natasha laughed, her gaze following you as you headed toward the bedroom door. “Goodnight.” she said softly.

You paused in the doorway, glancing back at her. “Goodnight, Natasha.” As you stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind you, you let out a shaky breath. Your heart was still racing, and your mind replayed the kiss over and over, but there was also a warmth in your chest, a quiet comfort in knowing she understood. That she wasn’t rushing you or asking for more than you were ready to give. You lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling with a small smile on your lips. You hadn’t expected any of this, hadn’t seen it coming..but maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t as terrifying as you’d thought..

[fandomnerd9602]

Marking

Wolf!Natasha Romanoff x Reader

You had only been dating your best friend and wolf hybrid Natasha Romanoff for only a couple weeks and she was absolutely amazing. You loved every second with her.

The only downside if you can even call it that was that Natasha was nuzzling and rubbing herself against you nearly every minute of the day, not that you minded or were complaining.

Every time you saw her, you could practically see the chills that ran down her spine. The way her tail would swish or puff up a little. The way her ears would perk up and even fall a little with how much she loved you.

It was all such a lovely sight and feeling.

And yet she always found some excuse to nuzzle you or rub herself against you. Before work, after work, during lunch, during dates, honestly you didn't mind, you thought it was just something she did.

And then one day, you walked into wolf hybrid Yelena's office at the Sanctuary. She didn't even turn around.

"Hey Natasha" she said bemoaningly.

"Natasha?" you asked with a bit of confusion.

Yelena immediately turned around, stared at you and began laughing uncontrollably.

"What?" You asked.

"She marked you pretty good, (Y/N)." Yelena continued laughing.

"Marked me?"

"Oh no" Yelena realized, "you cannot detect the pheromones, can you?"

"Pheromones?"

"Hybrids leak pheromones around their loved ones, especially mates" Yelena gives you a knowing wink, "Nat has been marking you up with her pheromones, letting other hybrids know that you belong to her."

"That's why she's been rubbing up against me so much!" it all made sense to you finally.

"Uh huh" your friend giggles, "oh boy with the amount of pheromones she put on you...I could not even detect your musk"

You could only chuckle and shake your head. Your girl had been marking you all this time to ensure that everyone knew that you were hers. Wolves are quite territorial after all.

So a little idea formed in your head.

Later that night, Natasha walked into her cave on the sanctuary grounds when you suddenly jumped out and sprayed her with a bottle of cologne you had bought earlier that day.

“Malysh!” She giggles, “what was that?! Why did you spray me with cologne?”

“I know what you’ve been doing, my wolf,” you smirk, “so if you want others to know that I’m yours then I want others to know that you’re mine”

Natasha giggles, her wolf tail wagging happily. “Spray me up!” She answers, jumping into your arms and wrapping her arms and legs around your body.

The two of you fall to the couch with a little shared laugh. Natasha began kissing you tenderly, her tail happily continuing to wag.

Natasha Romanoff. Your best friend. Your girlfriend. Your beautiful honey wolf.

Tags @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @texaswolf23 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @redhoodte @iiconicsfan25 @idkwhatever580 @julieromanoff @multi-fandom-enjoyer @moonlit-imagines @moonlit-ficrecs @abimess @marveldcfandom @russianredassassin @revanshand

[capsicle107]

my touch is black and poisonous 🕷

[gazpachito]

the MMA au no one asked for

(close ups under the cut)

[thewidowsledger]

not a back story but i would really like to know what is happening with milf r and nerd nat right now that nat is in her household with her sons...

i love your work so much and all i can say is youre underrated, thank you

After seeing Nat, r never stopped squirming. Having to have the welcome home lunch with her sons and of course, the one she had a one night stand with that turned out to be her son's bestfriend.

She did her best to avoid Natasha or be alone with Natasha. You are welcoming to her and very accommodating but only when you are around your sons.

That summer was supposed to be a bonding season for you and for your children but now you try to avoid home as much as possible so you wouldn't have to see or have an interaction with your second born's bestfriend.

You told Thena all about it and all she did was laugh at your face about how odd and how small the world is for you. You would always spend your time with your friend that your children are becoming curious onto why you're always gone.

One time your Bruce had to ask you why you were not home the whole day, he asked you if you were seeing someone. And you froze on spot, holding tightly on your cutlery as you eat dinner with them, you saw Natasha looked at you—all three of them were looking at you. You let out a chuckle wishing it didn't come out nervously as you intended it to be. And, you said, yes. Lies.

Tony saying, "Can he take a punch?" And Natasha almost choked her food. You blinked as Tony laughed at his bestfriend. "I...he can, Tony." You said, hoping that he won't notice the lies that lay beneath your words. You only said yes, so whatever hope you see in Natasha's eyes whenever you look at her would fade.

They only stayed for 3 weeks, painful 3 weeks having not to spend so much time with your sons and having to see your son's friend that gave you mindblowing orgasm that the father of your children couldn't even give you.

The night before they leave your place, Tony told Natasha to accompany you to the market to buy some stocks like foods and toiletries for their apartment. You refused, almost scolding your son telling him that you don't want his friend to be tired and you have a long travel tomorrow. Natasha took that as a chance and told you that it's not a problem. Now, you can't refuse.

The drive on the market was painfully silent, Natasha was the one to push the cart, being a gentlewoman she is as she took the liters of water you were carrying, your hands grazing at each other before she placed it in the cart. She also took it to herself to carry everything to the car especially the heavy ones.

The drive back was full of tension unlike the drive on your way back to the market. It is the only and last moment you would be with Natasha, alone. "You're really seeing someone?" You nodded, lies. "Good for you." Because if you are, now there would be a reason for Natasha to move on.

You really tried not to talk or utter a single word with her but the feeling of being guilty walking out on her is eating you. "You're young, Natasha. You'll meet so many people along the way." You spoke after her little talk with you. "You're a big, smart girl. I know you know how much I love my children." She know what your words were hinting. She could only nod, suppressing the tears that are threatening to fall in her eyes.

"C-can...can I kiss you? One last time? Please." Fuck being in your driveway as she asked. You saw her reddened eyes with tears. You cupped her face with one hand and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek, she expected a kiss on her lips but you draw the line there. Your foreheads and noses touched for a brief moment before you pulled away. You have to, because if you don't you won't let her go neither will she even though you had painfully missed how her plump lips felt like on yours and as it travel on your body.

You didn't know that Bruce and Tony planned a surprise for you that's why they let Natasha go with you. The little celebration went well, filled with so much tension and stolen glances between you and Natasha. At the end of the night, you all took a photo together, one with Bruce, one with Tony, one with the two of them, and one with the redhead.

The day after, you never tore away yourself to your children. Hugging, kissing and babying them. Your children never stopped asking you about the one you're seeing but you would try to avoid the conversation by scolding and reminding them about stuff when they finally go again to the university. Meanwhile, Natasha never dared to look at you even before they leave the house.

After they leave, you took Natasha's shirt and the photo you had together where you two stood awkwardly with enough space between each other. A tear fell down your cheek as you put it on a box. You know that as you close this box the feelings you had with the young girl will forever be hidden with it. You two cannot be together, you love your children too much to be with her—but a part of you wished for the situation to be different—you wished that maybe in another universe her star would align to yours.

—

Author's Note: Sorry guys, this is not a sad ending, this is a realistic ending🤓 thank you for this request, nony! And thank you for the kind words, I appreciate it🫶

Fic link: Toothbrush

[incorrectwinterhawk]

Bucky: My boyfriend is too tall for me to kiss him on the lips, what should I do?

Nat: Punch him in the stomach, then when he doubles over in pain, kiss him.

Kate: Tackle him.

Sam: Dump him.

Clint: JUST ASK ME TO LEAN DOWN

[vyynn]

Peter's the type to get kidnapped and send "taken :⁠'⁠(" into the avengers group chat instead of his location when he gets the chance to sneakily use his phone.

The avengers read this and are debating in the living room whether Peter finally found the courage to announce that he has a partner or if he's in someone's basement until Bruce points out the emoticon beside the word.

That's when the panic sets in, Tony and Steve are out that door in a blink of an eye while the others gather their things and follow behind.

Let's just say the scolding Peter got from Natasha later was full of Russian words he didn't understand. He's convinced he accidentally got his future generations cursed.

[cagedshewolf]

@crackshot-bowman

@deafarcher

Peter, about Clint: What’s wrong with him? Natasha: Everyone has a different theory.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Friendship In Escape

Summary: Steve Rogers x fe!Reader -> After escaping a party, you meet Steve Rogers. It's in a simple conversation, you and him find common ground and from that a friendship grows. Question is, will either of you ever find the courage to act of the underlying feelings?

Disclaimer: This is a LONG one. Spoilers ahead for most of the main Captain America/Avengers films from The Avengers. Also, there's probably a lot of plot holes in this fic so we're just gonna ignore them. Slow, slow burn. Angst-y moments. Found family, fluff, taking care of each other. Some swearing. Reader helps Steve adjust to the modern world. Lots of hugging. Probably spelling and grammar mistakes but we're gonna ignore them, too (it's late and I'm pretty sure my brain is fried). Hope you enjoy it <3 Not proof read.

The party had been humming to life for an hour or more before the honorable host finally showed his face. Dawned in a big name branded suit, Tony Stark stood at the top of the stairs, calling for people to start the party. 

There was meant to be music, laughter, too many drinks and a fight he’ll be able to tell a story about at the next party. And you were sure, by the end of the night, he’d get his wish. 

This party in particular had been the third you’d been dragged along to in the space of a month. It hadn’t changed since you were a child. 

Posh names belonging to posh people with deep pockets and, when the time called for it, had long arms, too. The amount of money that was gathered from parties like this were worth the events being held. 

But never once had you felt comfortable. 

It wasn’t the shoes or the dress. In fact, getting ready was the best part of the night. But being dragged to the same people, with the same stories, being told about the same single people in their family, their sons, nephews, cousins. Being told to stand and take a picture with a smile that will let everyone know how fun the parties are. 

But they weren’t. 

For others they were. But for you? You had more fun spending time alone in the libraries at University, studying, answering company emails and working, mostly, from behind the curtain. 

If you could have done that, you would have avoided the parties all together. Relationships with other businesses were already solidified and had been for almost fifty years. 

So, after the fourth hour of walking around the gala room, standing and being forced to listen to the same conversations that you’d heard your whole life, listening to people be more interested in what Tony Stark had placed around his hosting room, and being introduced to another twenty something with a multi-billion dollar company behind his family’s name, but no integrity, you found your escape. 

“Darling, where are you going?” Your mother asked as you handed her your drink. 

“Just to the bathroom.”

She gave you a smile. “Hurry back. Sandra told me she’s bringing her cousin. Special invite from Mr Stark himself.”

You forced your millionth smile of the night and nodded. “Will do.”

As you took the stairs up towards the upper floors and bathrooms, you looked down over the edge of the balcony. They were preoccupied, listening to somebody’s story. 

Rather than taking a right, you took a left, bumping into a waitress. 

“I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Can I help you with something?”

You looked around you. “Just promise you didn’t see me. I need a break.”

The waitress just smiled. “There’s some rooms that haven't been decorated yet. Just take a right at the end of the hall.”

You looked down the hall, looked back and smiled at her. The first genuine smile of the evening. 

“Thank you.”

She shrugged. “This is my fifth party helping the host. We all need a break every once in a while.”

You thanked her again before walking down the hall. The minute you turned the corner, the party seemed like it was miles away. Every once in a while, you heard a roar of laughter but it never got any louder than that. 

With a sigh of relief, you decided to explore the different rooms. Some had tarp over the entrances, the insides not being suitable to survive at least an hour in. From holes in the floors to fresh paint fumes and drying plaster. 

But then one at the very end of the hall had a door. So, taking your chance, you opened it. 

“Oh!”

Inside stood a man dressed in a woolen style suit, his tie loose around his neck. He looked as if he’d been pacing and deep in thought before you’d opened the door. 

“I-” You looked around you, fearful you were about to get into trouble. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone- Sorry.”

“Trying to escape the party, too?”

You stopped trying to close the door and looked at him. You couldn’t put your finger on it; maybe it was the way he stood, maybe it was the tone in his voice or maybe it was the way he was looking at you, but you saw something trustworthy in him. 

An unlikely friend in a place where you had none. 

“What gave it away?”

He smiled, softly. “You’re welcome to stay, if you’d like.”

You stepped inside. “Thank you.”

“I- I’m Steve, by the way.” He held out his hand and you shook it. 

“Y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

For the second time that evening, you gave a genuine smile. “Likewise. So, what are you hiding from? A match-making mother, or a business minded father?”

“Neither.” Steve laughed a little. 

You walked further into the room before finding a spot with less sawdust on the ground. You’d been on your feet for a long time. You found the perfect spot against a wall between two windows. 

“Wow,” you brushed what sawdust you could with your feet before turning around and tucking the skirt of your dress down. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

He chuckled. “Not a big one.”

You shrugged, stretching your legs out and crossing them at your ankles. You patted the ground beside you. “My parents want me to socialise. I’d say talking with you qualifies as that. I’ve got time.”

Steve smiled as he watched you, finally agreeing to sit beside you. 

And for the first time in almost a month, you weren’t bored. 

Talking and listening to Steve didn’t make you so bored out of your mind you would have rather ran a cross country race. Talking with Steve was the first time you felt comfortable at one of these fancy galas. 

You’d come to learn that he was, in fact, the man they’d dug out of the ice. That he was the soldier lost to time, being forced into a new century without any idea how to deal with it. 

“I know a little of what that’s like,” you admitted to him. “To feel lost. I’ve been attending different parties like this since I was a kid. And never once have I felt comfortable attending them. I can talk to everyone in the room and feel completely loney, but I can sit on my own in a quiet place like this and…feel comfortable and be myself.”

“I had that once.” Steve told you. “I’d say back home, but I’m still in the same country. To be honest, I don’t know what anything is outside of this room.”

Then an idea popped into your head. “I could help.”

“How?” 

You shrugged. “I could help you adjust. I’m no therapist but I know how most things work in the 21st century. Movies, media, books. You said they gave you a document packet?”

Steve nodded, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a folded over thick document. 

“With all the stores and street names, I don’t recognise anything anymore.”

Opening it up, Steve handed it to you. It had an address, some pictures, different appointments and different wifi codes. 

“I know where this is.”

“You do?” Steve seemed surprised. They’d given him the address three days ago with no instruction on how to find it. They just told him something about Google Maps. Whatever a Google was. 

You nodded. “It looks kinda old.”

Steve shrugged. “‘Guess it’s their way of giving me some familiarity.” 

You shook your head. “When do you move in?”

“End of the week.”

“I’ve got a meeting in the morning, but I can take the rest of the day – help you move in, if you’d like.”

Steve looked at you. “You’d really do that for me?”

You handed his document back and nodded. “I would. Just because you were given an image for them to control, doesn’t mean that they should take advantage of the person you are behind it all.”

“That’s really kind of you, ma’am.” 

You smiled. “Don’t mention it.”

For an hour more, you and Steve just talked. Filled with quiet laughter and genuine smiles, you and Steve found an unlikely friendship in each other that evening. 

A friendship that would only grow stronger and stronger over the years. 

At the end of that week, you met Steve outside the SI building before walking with him towards the underground and pointing out different landmarks for him to recognise. A university campus, a museum, a deli store that served the best sandwiches. You explained about the times for the trains that headed towards the different states. Finally, walking down the different streets, Steve started to recognise a few different places. New businesses stood in their places, but the bricks around them were the same. 

“Pretty sure I got beat up in that alley.”

You followed Steve’s eye-line before looking back at him. “Bet your mom was beside herself with the amount of times you came home with a black eye.”

Steve held a reminiscent smile on his face as he looked at his shoes. “Just a kid from Brooklyn who was too dumb enough to run away from the fight.”

You watched Steve for a moment; something in his tone told you those weren’t just his words. 

“Come on, we’re almost there.”

You took Steve’s hand, leading him down the street before you both arrived at the apartment block. A couple of younger kids were playing out in the street, kicking a football around until they scored it round the corner of the building, one of their mother’s yelling to play in the back. 

A guy with a coffee cart served passers by heading back from their lunch break, on the corner. 

Unlocking the front door, you and Steve walked up the first few flights of stairs before finally reaching his new home. 

As Steve opened up the door and walked inside, he was met with a living space that probably hadn’t had someone live there…maybe ever. The furniture seemed old, the kitchen table was rusting a little at the bottom of the legs and the curtains had seen better days. 

A few boxes had been stacked by the entrance way with different labels scribbled on them. 

You rifled through them. “Bed sheets, books, clothes.”

You took a note of the size label. “You know, I think one of my friends might have some clothes you’d like. She runs a clothing company that does everything from a vintage style to modern day. I’m sure she’d love to let you rifle through her products; see if there’s anything you’d like to take off her hands.”

You turned around but Steve hadn’t been listening. Instead, he’d been focusing on the case files that were strewn across the kitchen table. 

Standing beside him, keeping your eye on his reactions, you looked down at the table before you came across a picture. You had to take a breath. 

Steve had told you a little about his friends from the war. The Howling Commandos. 

“Is that them?”

Steve nodded.

It took Steve a while to get used to his new apartment, but with your help, he found it becoming a home. You helped him change the bedsheets and work out his washing machine before putting your phone number into his phone. 

“Think of it like a telegram,” you told him. “But rather than waiting weeks to hear back, it’s almost instantly.”

In the weeks that followed, you met Steve at his apartment every few days. On the weekends, you showed him around some of the thrift stores where he’d found a new kitchen table and some dishes to use in the kitchen. 

One of your friends – the same friend that ran a clothing company – had delivered some new curtains. They were plain, but they were better than the ones Steve had been left with. 

Meanwhile, Steve found an old gym where he could spend his evenings and, with your help, had figured out the basics of a phone and computer. 

The one Shield had given him was far too high tech, even for you. So, you had brought Steve one of your old ones. It was still pretty modern, but it was a lot simpler to use than the Stark Industries issued one. 

Then he got pulled into helping Shield with a threat that, to him, would have been best left in the ocean. 

News reports came in thick and fast during the attack on New York. You hadn’t heard from Steve during it, until you nearly ran into him in the middle of the street as mechanical…whatever the hell they were, were flying through the sky. 

“Why are you still in the city?! Everyone needs to get out.”

You nodded. “I know, but people needed help.” You looked down at his shield. “You know how to use that?”

Steve nodded. 

“Can you break a lock with it?”

Steve followed you as you ran down an alley before disappearing around the corner and to an employee entrance. Neither you or Steve could tell what had welded a lock shut, but considering some kind of blue weapon lay not too far out in the middle of the street with similar residue being left of the door, you could only gather it had been some alien technology. 

It took a few tries but the lock finally busted open and a bunch of parents with their kids came flooding out of the doors. As you and Steve started directing people to safety out of the city, you saw the way the kids looked up at Steve. 

The whole image of Captain America had been controlled by the government, making him an image away from Steve Rogers. But nothing could control the way those kids looked up at Steve as their hero. 

A comic book hero that existed in real life. 

“Ma’am, is that everyone?” Steve asked one of the women that left the room. 

She seemed distressed as she looked around. “I-I think so.” Then she ran off with the others. 

Something in your gut told you to check the rest of the room, and Steve followed you inside. 

“Go! Help the others! I can look after myself.”

“But-”

“Steve.” You looked at him. “Go. They need you.”

It took him a minute but he took your word for it and ran back out of the door. Meanwhile, you checked under every table and desk before something caught your eye at the side of one of the cabinets. 

A kid, no older than six. 

“Hey, honey.”

“Mommy was meant to pick me up.”

You looked around, hearing something hit a building nearby. 

“I’ll help you look for her. Can I pick you up?” The kid nodded. “I’m Y/n, what’s your name?”

“Sophie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sophie. Come on, let's go and find your mom.”

After three hours of destruction over the city, and countless injuries being collected by people, it wasn’t until a mom came running through the crowds of EMTs and doctors, screaming out for her child that you and Sophie, sitting in the back of an ambulance, looked up. 

And Sophie called out. 

Jumping from the bench, Sophie looked outside and saw her mom running through the crowd. You watched as they collided and sank to the ground. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Why aren’t you with the rest of your class? Where are they?”

“Hey,” you said, walking behind Sophie. “They got separated when trying to clear the city.”

“Did you save her?”

“I got her out-” Suddenly, the mom crushed you with a hug. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know what I-” The tears continued to flow from her eyes. 

“It’s alright. All that matters is that she’s safe.”

“Thank you so much.”

Hours later, you had finally made it back home, had showered and switched your TV on. The news had been following updates and different people’s theories of what had happened. 

Then a knock came to your door. 

Upon opening it, you were greeted with a fresher looking Steve Rogers. 

“Shouldn’t you be with a medic?”

Steve smiled, “Shouldn’t you? Between the pair of us, I’m the one who has a serum running through their veins.”

You looked in his hand. “Is that a pizza?”

Steve nodded. “Didn’t know which kind you’d like, so I got the classic. Figured you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

Inviting him inside, Steve laid it on the coffee table. 

“Shouldn’t you be helping The Avengers or something?”

“Avengers?” Steve looked at you with a curious look. 

You just pointed at the screen. “Oh, right. Yeah, we’ve all decided to take a break. But Shield tells me they’ve finally found me a job.”

“That’s something to celebrate.”

Steve shrugged. “Kinda hard to celebrate when an entire city almost got levelled to the ground.”

You understood. “I’m gonna head back tomorrow and see if they need any help.”

“Can I come with you?” 

“You don’t have to ask, Steve.”

He smiled, if a little sheepishly. 

For the rest of the evening, you and Steve shared a pizza and talked until neither of you wanted to say anything else. 

So, you picked out a film and placed it into the DVD player. And you and Steve just sat and watched it. 

As the months passed, you and Steve slipped into a familiar routine. He got better at texting, but you’d come to find he preferred to call. And during the days he was at the training facility in Washington and devoid of signal, he’d write you letters. 

And you wrote them back. 

He’d also started keeping a list, you’d noticed, of things you’d say in passing or you’d tell him to listen to or watch. 

On the quiet afternoons you spent together, Steve would open up more. He told you more about the 40s and being in the army. He told you more about his childhood and his best friend, Bucky. 

You’d surprised him one afternoon by taking him to the Smithsonian. They had a new exhibit put up – one pillar being dedicated to Bucky and his friendship with Steve. 

In one of his final letters, he’d told you of a man he’d basically been trolling on his morning runs. You’d come to find out his name and you smiled. 

Outside of you and the members of his team, Sam Wilson was the first friend Steve had made. 

However, you didn’t get to meet him in person until you got a call from him, under Steve’s contact. Of course, the minute the headline had flashed on your screen, you’d tried to get into contact with him. He’d fallen, or rather, jumped, from an elevator and fallen a hundred feet or more to the ground. His own work seemed to be after him. 

So, when you were told he’d fallen, once more, from one of the jets and had been in surgery, you rushed to him. 

Entering his room, Natasha had been the one to take you to his room after two nurses read your name on his file but wouldn’t let you through. 

“He’s alive, as you can see.”

“If I get a call like this again, telling me you’re dead, I’ll kill you myself.” You warned Steve before you walked to his side. The bastard had the audacity to chuckle. 

“I promise. If I’m gonna die, I’ll ask your permission first.”

From behind you, you heard a voice smile. “I like her.”

“Y/n, this is Sam. Sam, this is Y/n.”

From that day on, the movie and pizza nights came to include both Sam and Natasha. However, unbeknownst to you and Steve, the movie nights also came to include the rest of the team. 

Natasha had been trained to read people. And she’d never read anyone easier than you and Steve. 

And her information soon became Clint’s information which soon became everyone’s information when he accidentally let it slip to the others. 

Tony had been planning a party. Rather, he wanted to throw one and Pepper had come up with a list of people to invite. And when she read out your name, Steve had looked up but Clint had spoken first. 

“Is that Steve’s girl?”

They all looked around at each other before looking at Steve. He had a girl?

Steve faltered. “Yes, well, no. She’s my friend. We’re friends but-”

Tony turned to Pepper. “Invite Steve’s girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just friends. And she doesn’t really like big parties so-”

“Invite her anyway. I can’t believe Clint knows about her before we do.” Then he turned to Natasha. “I suppose you already knew.”

She just nodded. 

And that was just the start of it. 

A few nights later, Steve had given you a heads up which you appreciated but it did put you on edge a little. But all in all, it was…fun. 

It was the first time you enjoyed yourself at a party and didn’t hate every minute of it. 

Firstly, the attire was fancy but not gala fancy. It was a celebration of Hydra finally being overthrown from Shield.

You arrived in your heels that didn’t hurt your feet so much, wide legged trousers and a graphic t-shirt. 

“Now, who is that?”

At the bar, Rhodey, Thor, Tony and Maria all stood watching as you entered the room, clearly looking for someone. Tony and Rhodey had met most of the building at the party. Maria had met them all – at the very least, she had a file on them all. 

But not on you. 

From behind the bar, Natasha leaned over. “That’s Steve’s girl.”

From the bar they watched as Sam noticed you first and called you over. You looked relieved at seeing a familiar face. Even more relieved at seeing Steve. Tony watched as Steve noticed you, too. 

The game of pool Steve had been winning at suddenly took a dip as his aim went off kilter, his attention immediately going to you. 

“Steve has a woman?” Thor asked, the other just nodded. “Well, we must meet her.”

However, as they all went to walk towards the pool table, Maria reached her hand out. “You boys swarm her, Steve will make sure you never get to speak to her again. I will go.”

And so she did. 

The others watched on as Steve introduced you to Maria, every protective instinct a man got when introducing his girlfriend to the rest of his family going up. And somehow, with simple ease, Maria had gained a small part of your friendship and led you towards the second bar. 

Meanwhile, Steve watched as you walked away, the heart in his eyes never leaving. Not even when Sam nudged him and they got back to the game. 

Throughout the night, Steve kept his eye on you. 

He almost broke the sound barrier by how quickly he turned up at your side when you were dragged into the conversation circle with most of them. 

“So, tell me.” Tony said, sitting beside you. “How did you meet our fellow Captain?”

“Tony.” Steve warned, though no true malice could be traced in his voice. 

You smiled. “It’s okay. We actually met at one of your parties.”

Tony sat back. “Really?”

You nodded. “Some fancy gala a few years back.”

Conversation between yourself and the rest of the group seemed to take a natural flow until eventually, all your nerves had subsided. 

But that didn’t stop you from needing a break by the end. Between talking with Natasha, Maria and Thor for most of the night, and beating Sam at a few rounds of pool – something Steve found incredibly entertaining,

Tony had backed Sam on his idea that you were cheating. Nobody won that many rounds of pool one after the other. So, as the others gathered and watched the game, Steve stepped forward and he covered your eyes. 

For a moment you looked up at him and smirked, and he smiled back with a light shrug of his shoulders. 

“Yes, thank you, Cap.” Sam said. “See. This will prove that she’s cheat-”

As you hit the white cue ball, everyone watched and was left speechless as every ball suddenly found its home in the pockets, leaving you with an automatic victory. 

Opening your eyes once more and standing up, you looked at the pool table with a proud look before looking at Sam. You’d never seen him as shocked. Looking at Steve, he seemed shocked but also proud. 

“Still think I’m cheating?” 

Tony just looked at you. “She’s a witch. She had to be. Were you cursed as a child? Born to some Vampire in Europe or something?”

Steve chuckled, as did you. 

“Come on, Tony. Accept your defeat.”

As the hours passed, eventually you found yourself outside on the balcony, taking a breather from the party. 

“Figured you’d find some place quiet.”

You stood back up, holding onto the balcony bar. “Hey.”

Steve smiled. “Hey. You okay? They can be a bit much.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not that. Just needed a minute. You know, this is the first time I’ve enjoyed myself at one of these?”

Steve looked up at the building before looking back at you with a smile on his face. “It is better when people aren’t trying to show you off.”

You nodded with a smile. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for escaping the last one and finding me in that room.”

It was in that moment that you realised the last time you’d gone to any kind of gala or party of the same scale was the first time you’d met Steve. 

You smiled fondly at the memory. “Thanks for not being mad when I opened the door.”

“I could never be mad at you.”

“You didn’t even know me.”

Steve shrugged. “I’ve got a good judge of character.”

You felt yourself chuckle before you looked out across the rest of the city before a cold wind blew through making you shiver. 

“Here,” Steve shrugged off his jacket but before you could tell him you were fine, he placed it over your shoulders. 

It smelt of him. 

“Thanks.”

Steve just nodded with a smile watching as you placed your arms through the holes and wrapped it a little tighter around yourself before you looked out at the rest of the city with him. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is something going on between Maria and Sam?”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh. “She’ll eat him alive.”

“He might be into that.” 

Steve laughed and closed his eyes in disgust. “What makes you ask?”

You shrugged. “Just something I’ve noticed. He looks at her like she hung the moon. Though, of course, that’s when she’s not looking. When she is, it's like I’m back at school rehearsing for Much Ado About Nothing.”

Steve’s joy widened. “You were in a play?”

You laughed. “I wasn’t any good. I was only put on stage because my folks donated so much money to the school. All I wanted was to work with Tech.”

Steve chuckled. “I’d pay good money to see that. But, I get what you mean about Sam and Maria. Who knows? If the timing is right…”

Steve looked at you and you felt something bigger was being hidden behind his words. Part of you certainly held out hope that there was. 

“We should probably get back inside.”

An hour later, most people had gone home so it was left with just Steve, yourself, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Maria, Tony, Rhodey and Thor. 

Still wearing Steve’s jacket, you were sitting in the middle of the sofa, your legs curled towards your chest. After he stood up, Steve came back and handed you a beer before he nudged your legs allowing him room to sit down before he pulled them across his lap. 

It was the standard procedure for you and him to sit on a sofa together. Mainly because his sofa in his old apartment had been small enough to do so. 

Despite changing apartments and the sofa, it was just something that stuck. 

The others took silent note of it as the debate continued between Thor and Clint over his hammer. 

By the time everyone was trying to lift it, Steve became one of the last. Sharing a look with you before looking at Thor, Steve stood up and tried to lift it. 

You watched as it squeaked on the table for a moment, but moved no further. However, your knowing grin – despite it never truly lifting from the table – caused you to look at Thor. 

He looked panic stricken. 

But Steve stood back and held his hands up. 

“Or…you’re all not worthy.”

“It’s still a trick!”

In the moments that followed, everyone turned to their own conversations; including you and Steve. 

But Clint and Natasha kept their eyes on you and Steve. Your legs over his lap, wearing his jacket, his focus solely on you, his hand rubbing lightly against the bottom of your leg that was exposed under your wide-legged trousers, your ever loving gaze on his that matched yours, light and soft smiles on your faces. 

“Ten bucks says they’ll be married in two years.” Clint whispered up to Natasha. 

“Deal.”

Something that Clint didn’t know, that Natasha did, was that you and Steve were fucking oblivious. 

They’d all be lucky if it happened in two years. 

Quite frankly, it should have happened two years ago. 

Suddenly, a high pitched noise rippled through the room. 

“Of course you’re not all worthy…”

Your eyes landed on an oil leaking…zombie robot?

His voice was deep and menacing and nothing about any of it felt comforting. 

“Steve?”

“Stark?”

“Jarvis?”

In a single turn of events you’d gone from laughing and joking with each other to suddenly defending yourself against a robot who claimed he’d killed someone. 

A swarm of them flew in through broken glass panels and Steve kicked up a table before any of them could hit either of you. 

You landed on the floor beside him, a little winded. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded. “I’m okay. Go, go, go. I’ll be fine.”

Steve helped you up before running off in the other direction. It was a whirlwind of blasts, bullets and shattered glass. 

At one point, one had you cornered as Tony unhooked another. And for a moment, you thought you’d be sent flying out of the window and out into the open before Steve took hold of it, throwing it back towards Thor before Clint threw him his shield. 

And it all ended as Thor sent his hammer flying through Ultron. 

“What the fuck was that?”

“Banner.” Tony called him over before they headed towards their lab. 

Meanwhile, Steve turned around before heading straight towards you and holding you in his arms, almost lifting you from the ground. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, letting the scent of him, his clothes, his jacket, calm you. 

“Yeah. Thanks for saving my life.”

Steve truly breathed for the first time since the high pitched noise had rang through the room. With a hand at the back of your head, he pressed a kiss to your temple and he closed his eyes. 

“Come on, let's go and find the others.”

However, as he took your hand, you pulled him back. “Steve.”

“Right, you-you’ll want to go home-”

You shook your head. “It’s not that. You’ve got glass in your arm.”

“Oh.”

“Does Tony have tweezers in his lab?”

Steve nodded. “I think so.”

Less than five minutes later, you sat Steve in one of the chairs, Bruce handing you and Maria a set of tweezers each. 

Staring with his arm, you plucked out the small fragments of glass before his skin healed over them, before holding his palm up to face you. Meanwhile, they began discussing the extinction of The Avengers and the possibility of nuclear codes getting out to the rest of the world.

Then rage got passed around the room. 

By the time morning rolled around, Steve drove you back home.

“Whatever happens…” You looked at Steve, a small voice in the back of your head begging for him to be imprinted in your memory as if he hadn’t already. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

Steve nodded. “I promise. You’re the only one that can kill me, remember?”

You felt yourself laugh. At least he remembered. 

Looking at him again, you hugged him. “I mean it, Steve. Please be safe.”

He hugged you back, the feeling of him strong enough for you to still feel hours later. 

“I promise.”

Each day you didn’t hear from him was a little more worrisome than the last. And then when the media reported Shield helping evacuate people from a floating country…all you could do was hope Steve wasn’t one of the casualties. 

“Maybe I’ll take a leaf out of Barton’s book.”

“The simple life?”

“You’ll get there one day. Maybe you could get there with Y/n?”

Steve couldn’t deny he hadn’t thought about it once or twice. You and him. Together. More than friends. A part of him did think you felt it too. The same spark. Familiarity. The same love. 

“If something was gonna happen, it would have happened by now.” Steve told him. “Besides, I think the guy that wanted all that went into the ice seventy five years ago.”

Tony shrugged. “Don’t count on it. That guy is still there somewhere. See you ‘round, Rogers.”

As Tony drove away, Steve took in the building in front of him. And despite the acceptance he felt of being home, the idea of you and him…he figured that would always be with him. 

Even if it never happened. 

That night, Steve turned up outside your apartment with the next movie on his list and a case of soda. However, when you didn’t answer, he went in search of you. 

Opening the door to the roof, he looked around before spotting you in the very corner, sitting on the table of the picnic bench. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Looking around, you gave a sigh of relief at seeing him. He dropped the case on the table before you reached for him. 

“Thank god you’re okay.”

“How long have you been up here?”

“Since Nat called me and told me you’d landed. I couldn’t sit in my apartment anymore so…I came up here. Last time I looked out at the city was before everything went to hell.”

Steve looked out at the city himself before looking back at you. “We’re not out of the woods yet. Ross is probably about to reign hellfire down on…everyone.”

“What about the girl?”

“Wanda?”

You nodded. 

“I don’t know. She went through a lot, losing her home and her brother in one fowl sweep.” 

“You should train her.”

“What?”

“Train her,” you repeated. “You’re the only one who knows what it’s like to be in a war, to sign up to be experimented on. She’s gonna need someone who actually understands some of what she’s going through.”

Steve agreed with you. You had a point. 

“Tony can have a lot of influence and his heart can be in the right place but he doesn’t always remember that people didn’t have his childhood or his life.”

“He’s been through a lot.”

You agreed with Steve. “He has. But he’s never lost a brother, or his life to somebody’s cause. She’s gonna need help.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

The rest of the evening was spent talking over what had happened, what Steve had thought when the earth quite literally started to lift from beneath him, what had happened with Banner and Nat and then you gave him your news. 

Bucky had been spotted. 

The next time you saw Steve was at Agent Peggy Carter’s funeral. You sat at the back for most of it, watching as Steve helped carry the coffin and as people gave their eulogies. 

You didn't know much about Peggy Carter personally, though you could remember learning about her in school. The founder of Shield, working alongside Captain America in her early career. And from meeting Steve, you’d come to know more about her. As well as how deeply both she and Steve were in love. 

You’d seen the clips at the museum, and with Steve beside you, it gave them a whole other meaning. And even though Steve living through the ice and landing himself in the 21st century had given you one of the greatest friendships you’d ever had, part of you felt angry for him. 

Angry at the fact he missed out on his chance with Peggy and that she had to live a life where, as far as anyone knew, Steve was dead. 

A soldier and a love story left stranded in time. 

You could remember when Steve had first visited Peggy, again. 

And now he had to say goodbye, again. 

“It was a beautiful service.”

Steve looked up and down the aisle to where you were walking towards him. He felt the breath get knocked out of him. Or maybe back into him. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Thought you could use a friendly face?”

 A silent conversation then took place between you and Steve. Silent conversations weren’t unusual between you. A thousand words could be said in a look, but you’d both understand.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen after I leave here-”

“No, I know. I know.” You understood completely. After he walked out of the church, Nat would be leaving without him. 

“Today’s been a lot. Tomorrow’s gonna be a lot.” You looked back at Steve. “Right now can just be…right now. You’ve lost someone, Steve. Right now you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You don’t have to be Captain America right now.” Your gaze turned to Peggy’s picture. “I might not have met her, but I know you and I both know she would be telling you, you don’t have to be Captain America right now. At this moment, you’re just Steve: World War Two veteran who has just lost a great love in their life and deserves a moment to breathe.”

Steve gave you a weak smile, his emotions building up in his chest. “Thank you.”

Stepping forward, you wrapped Steve in a comforting hug and for the next twenty minutes, you both stayed inside the church. 

There he told you the smaller facts about Peggy – the ones he’d learnt when she was with him and his Howling Commandos. 

But then the time came to leave. 

Walking down the different streets, hearing time tick away, you and Steve soaked up what time you could before everything was about to go to shit. 

And on a bench beside the River Thames, you and Steve said your goodbyes. Both of you knew something was going to go wrong. What that was exactly, neither of you could put your finger on it. But something was going to happen. 

It was only a matter of time. 

“Here.” 

“What’s this?”

Steve read the piece of paper. It was a set of coordinates. 

“I own a house. It’s in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in Europe. If anything happens, Ross can’t touch you. The house had been in my family’s name for generations but one of my great aunt’s left it to me. It’s yours to use.”

“Y/n-”

“Take it, Steve. Nobody knows it exists so they won’t find you. It’s run down but there should be running water.”

Steve finally accepted it. “Thank you. You know, if Tony ever finds out about this, he’s gonna believe that you are a witch from a vampire family.”

You shrugged. “Maybe I am, you just don’t know it.”

Steve shrugged, pocketing the paper safely. 

“I’m gonna miss you.”

You took his hand. “I’m gonna miss you, too.”

You tried your best to avoid the tears, but they were trying their hardest anyway. 

“Just promise me one thing, Steve.”

Steve nodded, squeezing your hand a little tighter. “Be safe?”

You nodded. “Be safe.”

Your eyes locking with his, Steve decided to take a risk. There was a chance he might never be able to see you again. Whatever was going to happen, the first person they’d put a tail on would be you. 

He kissed you. 

With your hand on his lapel, you held him closer. It was short and bittersweet, but the memory of him and his kiss would forever be seared into your brain. 

And for a few moments, you just held onto each other, fearful of opening your eyes and accepting that one of you would have to walk away. 

With his finger, Steve gently brushed the stray hair from your face away and behind your ear before kissing you quickly for a second time. 

“One of us has to say goodbye.”

“I know,” you sniffed. “I know.”

“If there’s one thing I’m grateful for, it's that you walked into that room when you did. You were the first person to treat me like one and to help me. Thank you for wanting to escape that party.”

You laughed through the tears. “You never have to thank me for that. It’s crazy to think I almost didn’t go.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“So am I.”

Looking at each other for one final time, you leaned in and kissed him. You prayed that his hand by your waist would leave a brand – a different pain to carry with you than the one in your heart. 

Feeling yourself stand, the kiss broke away and you were the first to say goodbye. 

Walking down the stone pavement, you looked behind you before you turned a corner, only to find Steve had already gone. Between the bustling people, the bench you’d both just been sitting at was exactly that. 

A bench. 

Going home, you tried to find a way to keep yourself busy but no matter where you looked, everything reminded you of him. The movies you’d watched with him, the ones you didn’t. The pizza’s shared, and soda spilt, the curtain, bedsheets, books, clothes, pictures. 

You had some of his artwork in your house. Some of them people, most of landscapes – people and places you’d seen together. 

And in an album under your bed, you had his letters. 

Each one in its original envelope on one page and the pictures he’d drawn of the skyline from wherever he’d been. 

Some evenings, you’d reread his letters – still able to hear his voice. 

Then the headlines started to roll in. 

Captain America was a fugitive and had broken his team out of a high secure facility. 

And for almost two years a hunt was put on for him. You were interviewed every couple of months with the same questions. 

Did you know where he was? Had he contacted you? What information did he share with you?

Just because you’d given him a set of coordinates didn’t mean he’d use them. The last time you’d heard from Steve was in London and the only information he’d shared with you that day was about Peggy Carter and some of the old stories of when he was first in London in the 40s. 

In the meantime, your parents had convinced you to attend different dinner parties, charity shows, fundraisers and galas, all the while helping you find a date. 

Most of the people your mother had first introduced you to years ago, they were recently married. But the single ones she’d found; you dated some, though it never went any further than a sixth date – usually the date after your parents invited them to attend dinner. 

But no matter the fancy meal, or the conversation, or the man; none of them could beat a pizza, soda, a movie and…

Steve. 

None of them could beat Steve. 

But that all changed one afternoon when you were gardening. 

Living in the city had reminded you too much of Steve, and with the constant reminders of the memories and new threats and superheroes popping up, you decided to find somewhere nice to live. 

Someplace…simple. 

So, buying a house outside of the city with a few acres of land, you started renovating. Any business meetings you had could be done online which meant you had more time to fix your new home up. 

The smell of plaster, paint and sawdust filled your home for most of the days until finally things started to come together. New windows and locks were installed, the faulty taps were fixed and finally the entire place was given a new lease of life. 

And just as you were half way through with fixing your garden; planting some flowers and digging patches for a small allotment, a car pulled up outside your drive. 

On your knees in the dirt, it took a moment for your eyes to focus on the person climbing out of the car in the distance. 

They were tall, broad and had a beard. 

However, the closer they got, memories started to kick in. The walk, the frame…

You stood up and walked closer until you stopped again, feeling the breath being knocked out of you. 

“Oh, my god…”

He watched as you stopped in your tracks, your brain confirming who he was. Then you started running. Across the grass and onto the gravel path, you collided with Steve. 

“This is you, I’m not dreaming, am I?”

Steve shook his head and he held onto you, the essence of you filling his senses. 

“No, you’re not dreaming.”

You leaned back and looked at him before hugging him again. 

Finally, Steve set you back onto your feet and his hands remained at your waist. 

“Why are you back? Last I heard…”

“The team and I are keeping our distance for a few days. Nat’s headed to Ohio and Sam is trying to see his sister. It’s the best way to avoid Ross.”

You nodded, checking him over. He didn’t seem like he was dying. 

With a hand on his cheek, you smiled a little, pointing out the obvious. “You grew a beard.”

Steve smiled a little. “Helps me blend in.”

You looked into his eyes and smiled. “It suits you.”

Holding gently onto your wrist, Steve turned his head and kissed your palm and for a second you closed your eyes, leaning into him. 

“I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Placing your hand over his heart, Steve seemed to bear into your soul. “So am I.”

What followed was two hours of conversation around where he’d been and what he’d been doing since he left, and what you had been doing. 

Then he started to help. Painting the porch on the back of the house as you continued planting in the back garden, you spent time together. 

Time that was all too precious knowing he was on a clock. 

“Where did you learn to cook?” You asked Steve as you helped him chop up veg. 

With a smile on his face, Steve continued to prepare dinner. “I have a contact in Scotland. Their aunt runs a cafe and needed a few extra hands in the kitchen.”

As you helped Steve prepare dinner, you listened to the stories he’d gathered over his time away. Scotland, Spain, Germany, Italy, England, Poland, Norway, and many others. 

Once dinner was finished, you started to clean up. But from the table, Steve looked at you standing by the sink in front of the window. 

You’d never left his thoughts. 

Sat on that bench in London, he watched you walk away and for a moment, he remained where he was. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to see you again – not without heavy restrictions. 

He wanted you so desperately to turn around, but if you did, he would have followed you. He would have stood up and ran after you. 

So he left. 

He left before you could look around, he left before he would stop fighting himself and follow you. 

And each day he woke up, for the few moments in the morning where he would forget what had happened, where he would forget the world he’d been found in, he thought about you. He thought about calling you or writing you a letter. He thought about seeing you when he’d roll over in bed. But each time…

You weren’t there. 

You weren’t with him. 

You were at your home, thousands of miles from him. 

And he had no way of talking to you. 

Walking across the kitchen floor to you, he placed a hand on your waist before reaching across to the window cill. 

“What are you doing?” You smiled. 

Looking at you and turning up the dial, Steve smiled. “Come with me.”

Taking the cloth from your hand, Steve dropped it back into the bowl of soapy water and took your hand in his. Then, pulling you into the middle of the kitchen with him, you both started to slow dance. 

“What’s this for?”

Steve shrugged, holding your hand over his heart once again. “I don’t know how long I’ve got with you. Figured we could spend it not washing up.”

You felt yourself smile. “I think I like that.”

It was soft and slow. Swaying with the beat until the radio turned static, you and Steve remained in each other's arms. 

“Can you stay the night?”

Steve nodded. 

“Good.”

The night soon settled over your home, the stars slowly emerging from behind the clouds. With your porch taking on a blue hue in its own shadow, you and Steve sat side by side on your porch swing. 

Your hair still a little damp from your shower, Steve continued to run his fingers through it. And with your head on his chest, you let his heart beat calm you. For a moment, Steve turned his nose into your hair and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

After a few moments, he didn’t say anything. Not that you would have heard anything considering your body was begging for sleep. 

Carefully standing, Steve slipped one of his arms around your back and one under your legs before carrying you inside. He tucked you under your bed covers before making his rounds, locking up the doors and windows. Finally, he got in beside you. 

For years, he’d dreamed of it. 

Being with you, by your side, a domestic and loving day before laying beside you knowing he would be waking up beside you every morning. 

And Steve smiled as in your sleep you moved closer to him, your arms wrapping across his middle. 

You couldn’t remember when you’d gone from the porch to your bed, but you could remember Steve. Feeling his arms around you, his heartbeat under your cheek, his lips on yours…

“Hey,”

Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed by your legs, fully dressed. 

“Hey, what time is it?”

Steve kept his eyes on you. “A little after four.”

You gave a groan and closed your eyes again. Steve chuckled. Reaching out, he gently swept the hair from your eyes, your head turning towards him. With his hand on your cheek, he felt your smile. 

It was your turn to hold onto him and kiss his palm. 

And just as the knowing sadness started to grow, Steve still smiled, leaning forward and kissed you. 

You would never get bored of his kiss.

Peppering it out, you held onto his face before your hands slipped around his back and you held him closer. 

With a sigh, Steve held you closer to him, trying to imprint the feeling of you in his arms. 

Trying your best to ignore the growing tears, you spoke. 

“Just promise me you’ll be safe?”

Steve chuckled a little. “You know you’re the only one who's allowed to kill me. But I promise.”

“Good.”

Holding on a little tighter, you silently begged for more time with him. But the clock was ticking. 

From above, there was deep rumbling. 

“You better go,” you told Steve. 

It took him a moment before he let go and with one final kiss, it was his turn to say goodbye. 

Hearing his boots walk across the floor of your bedroom, down the hallway, through the living room and towards your front door. 

You heard his pause for a moment and in that moment, you wondered what he would do if you called out for him. 

But he couldn’t stay any longer. 

People needed him. 

The world needed him. 

Hearing your front door click open, Steve’s footsteps trailed off as it closed once more until eventually the only sound that was left was the ever quieting sound of a rumbling jet engine.

Six months later, half of the world disappeared. 

With a snap of Thanos’ fingers, Steve watched as half of his team, his family, disappeared. And upon returning back to the Avengers’ compound, you were his first call. 

Only, you never answered. 

“Go.” Natasha told him. 

He didn’t need to be told twice. 

Making a break for it, Steve ran down into the garage before hopping on his bike. He’d made it to yours in half the time. 

Pulling up, he started calling out for you. His voice filled with desperation and fear, he ran up to your front door. 

It was unlocked. 

He almost tripped inside as he tried the door, the hinges getting stuck. 

“Y/N!”

He raced around your home; checking the kitchen, living room, pantry, washing room, office, bathroom, and the bedrooms before finally reaching yours. 

The bedding was strewn a little, the soft lines of the fitted sheet folded into where you would have been laying. The pain in Steve’s chest seemed to grow heavier by the minute. 

You weren’t here. 

One hand on his hip, another covering his mouth, Steve turned around in a slow circle. Tears pricking at his eyes, his mind had gone from running a thousand miles a minute to…being completely overrun by pain. 

He had nearly a thousand chances to be with you, to share a life with you that he’d always dreamed of – all before everything went to hell. 

But it was too late. 

You were gone. 

Just like half of the world, you were gone. 

Gripping onto the cold metal of your bed frame, Steve tried to steady himself. 

You were gone. 

Somewhere behind him, he heard a click. 

His entire body stilled. 

Slowly turning around he found…

No one. 

Somewhere down the hall, a door closed. 

As quietly as he could, Steve walked from your bedroom and down the hallway. The noises started to compile together. 

Shoes shuffling, a bag being thrown onto a counter, a bucket handle rattling against itself. 

From a corner, Steve saw an apron thrown across the back of a kitchen chair. A tap started to pour before someone switched it off. 

Then someone started to hum. 

You started to hum. 

Fully stepping into the kitchen doorway, Steve felt the entire life get knocked back into him. 

Then you turned around. 

He scared the shit out of you. 

The bucket slipping out of your hand, it knocked against your sink, the water spilling down the drain. 

Just as it did, you recognised him. 

Rushing forward, Steve enveloped you into his arms, your feet lifting from the ground. 

“You’re alive,” you breathed. 

“I thought you were gone.” Steve mumbled into your shoulder, holding onto you tighter. 

“Steve, what’s going on?”

“He won.” 

Steve set you back down on your feet and for the first time in almost seven months, you finally got a good look at him. He looked tired, worn. Beaten. 

“We almost did it, but he won.”

“Whose left?”

Steve tried his best to name those who were left. 

“We think Tony’s gone but we can’t be sure.”

The tears were falling from Steve’s cheeks as he told you. Wiping them away, you pulled him back into a hug. 

“I tried calling you but when you didn’t answer…” You could feel Steve’s entire body shaking under you. “I thought I’d lost you, too.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer. Steve, honey, you need to sit down. Let me get you some water.”

As you sat him down, Steve watched as you moved around your kitchen. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, running the tap until it was cold before handing it to him. 

“I’ll make you some food. When did you last eat? You should call Nat.”

“Right.”

After calling and updating Nat, Steve hung up the phone. And for the next few hours, Steve talked you through everything he could; right up to him running through your door. 

In the months that followed, a transition started to take place. People had to get used to a world where half of the people they loved were gone. 

And somewhere between Steve finding you in your kitchen and Tony and Pepper having their daughter, yourself and Steve finally came together. 

Properly. 

This time there were no goodbye kisses and fear of never seeing each other again. That biggest fear had been and gone. 

What you were left with was…acceptance. 

Acceptance that you had both almost completely lost each other for good. There was no point in avoiding feelings, or being scared of what might happen. 

You both had a chance at a life together. 

So you both took it. 

From then on your home with Steve became interchangeable between the Avengers compound and your house. Saving her from the lifetime supply of peanut butter sandwiches, you dragged Natasha when you could to your home with Steve and made her a decent meal. 

Being out in the open also gave her a breath of fresh air away from the training facility walls that never changed colour. 

And eventually things…settled. 

People found a new way of life, coming back each year to celebrate those who were lost. And then new life was brought into the mix. 

Not too long after Pepper had given birth to Morgan, you were faced with a positive pregnancy test result yourself. 

And Natasha was your first call. 

“What’s going on? I have an extra gun in the car if we need it.”

You showed it to her. “What does that show?”

“Holy shit, you’re pregnant.”

A small whimper left your lips as you handed her the test stick and started pacing around your bathroom. 

“Are…are we not happy about that?”

You whimpered again as you paced up and down. “I-I don’t know. We-we haven’t planned anything. I mean, we’ve talked about it a few times but what if something goes wrong? Are you sure it was positive?”

Natasha looked back at it. “Well, it’s got a plus sign so-”

“It’s the third I’ve taken this week. The other two came up invalid but that one was like a bright flashing light.”

Reaching for you by the shoulders, Natasha sat you down. “Okay, first off, breathe.”

You did so. 

And then some more. 

“Okay. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna go and get you another box of tests. Proper ones, not these things. And you’re gonna call Steve.”

“He’ll probably pass out. Why do you think I called you?”

Natasha laughed. “Just call him. I’ll be right back.”

And she was. 

Walking back inside, she called out and Steve called back. 

Three minutes later, you were all huddled in the bathroom waiting for the result to finally show. 

“What if it’s a false positive? If it’s positive-positive, will I be able to carry the baby?”

Crouching down in front of you, Steve held your hand. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Together. Okay?”

You took a breath and nodded. Leaning up, Steve kissed you and you kissed him back. 

You’d been having conversations about starting a family together for a while, but neither of you had started planning it just yet. Mostly because you hadn’t gotten around to it. And you didn’t know if you could even carry Steve’s kid. For all either of you knew, the serum would carry onto your child. 

Natasha looked at her phone. 

“It’s time.”

With a shaky breath, you and Steve stood. However, you paused as you reached for the test. 

“Count me down.”

Steve chuckled softly, counting back from three. 

After one, you turned it over. 

Pregnant 3+ weeks

You felt yourself smile and laugh a little before showing Steve. 

“You’re gonna be a dad.”

Taking the test from your hands, Steve took one look at it before the water-works started. 

Nine months later, inside the Avengers compound, Natasha was walking with you. 

“Once they started arguing over what the manual said, I made a break for it.”

Tony had surprised you and Steve at your home and after an hour, Steve had wrangled him in to help build the crib. It was the final thing that needed to be built and since Steve had banned you from lifting heavy things since you had elected to ignore your midwife and pushed the crib from the living room and into the nursery. You couldn’t help. 

“Have you decided on a name yet?”

You shook your head. “Not yet.”

“Well, I might be biassed but Natasha is a really good name.”

You laughed a little. “I’ll think about it.”

Natasha smiled, holding onto your hand as she helped you down one of the narrower steps. 

However, halfway around the building, you stopped. 

“Everything okay?”

You nodded. “Just a bit of cramp.”

But it wasn’t just cramp. 

Barely a second later, you felt water trail down your leg until there was a louder splash against the tiles. 

“Oh, shit.”

You looked down. “Oh, my god.”

“Okay, okay. We’re okay.”

You nodded, taking hold of her hand as she walked you down the hall. 

“Steve’s old room is just down the hall. Once we get you there-”

“Call him.”

“I know, I will.”

“No, call him now. Please.”

Twenty minutes later, Tony’s car was kicking gravel up and onto the windshield. Steve ran inside, nearly taking out a few employees on the way. 

Almost fifteen hours later, a healthy baby girl was delivered. 

With her in Steve’s arms, bundled in a fresh baby blanket, everyone stood around the bed. 

“Only took you a decade.”

Steve chuckled, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his daughter. And neither could you. 

And for almost four years, it was blissful. 

As your daughter grew up, Steve told her stories and showed her pictures of the 40s. Even at the age of three, she seemed wise beyond her years. 

Then one night, everything changed. 

Recently, she hadn’t been sleeping. So, lay in bed with you whilst Steve was still at work, you told her a few bedtime stories but when Steve came in an hour or so later, he found her still awake. 

“You should be asleep,” he whispered to her. 

“I tried. Mommy fell asleep, though.”

Steve looked over and smiled. “Come on, let your mom sleep.”

Picking his daughter up, Steve carried her down the hall, leaving his jacket on the bed beside you. Making sure to close the door behind him, Steve started to talk to his daughter. 

Their conversation eventually turned to someone from Steve’s past. 

“Daddy, whose that?”

Steve looked at the photo. It was him and Bucky during his army days, though both were out of uniform and in civilian clothing. There weren't many pictures of Bucky in normal clothes. 

“That’s Uncle Buck.”

“But he’s not in green.”

Steve chuckled. “You’re right, he’s not. That was when we were in London. Pinky, one of the Howling Commandos, decided to take us on a tour of London.”

“Wow.” 

She was awe-struck. 

“Does he know I was born?”

Steve felt a pang in his chest. “Maybe. I don’t know if he can hear me, but I’ve told him.”

“Would he like me?”

Steve smiled. “He’d love you.”

Kissing her temple, Steve sat down in one of the chairs. “Try and get some sleep.”

Steve himself must have fallen asleep because next thing he knew, you were waking him up. Your daughter was still fast asleep, he carried her to bed before you led him down the hall and he collapsed onto your shared bed. 

The next time he woke up that morning, everything you both knew was about to change. 

Time Travel. 

There was a chance everyone could be brought back. 

And after a long conversation, one that was overheard by your daughter who had been playing in the back garden with the family dog, Steve accepted what he had to do. 

“You and Aunty Nat will have pictures again.”

Handing Steve a slightly mud scattered, crinkled, crayon drawing; your daughter had drawn a picture with everyone on it. 

Herself, you, the dog, Steve, Nat, Bucky, Sam with his wings, Clint with his bow and arrow, Thor and his hammer, Tony, Bruce…the stick men with different items, standing on a green field with a corner sun, continued on and on. 

It was that night you kissed Steve and he said what could have been his final goodbye to your daughter. She held onto him tightly, telling him she loved him. The only thing that carried him on his feet was the thought of going through what Scott was. 

In the time he got stuck, he thought his daughter was gone. 

Steve would have done anything to get his daughter back. 

And it didn’t take much for him to remember the pain that washed through and over him when he thought he lost you. 

Scott, like many others, had lost someone they loved. So had Steve. But he hadn’t lost you, though he thought he did. 

People needed their families back. 

And that’s what they got. 

At the cost of Tony’s life. 

After everything had settled, you drove as fast as you could to find Steve. And you found him far outside of the Avengers compound, crouched on the floor. 

“Steve!? Steve!”

Looking up, he spotted you amongst the grey smoke. A shining light in the darkness. 

Running as fast as you could, you eventually reached him. 

“I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to know if you were okay. Are you okay?”

Steve’s voice was quiet. “He’s gone.”

“Gone? Who’s gone?”

Steve’s voice broke. “T-tony. Tony’s gone.”

“Oh, my god.”

As Steve hugged you, you held him as tightly as you could. He asked about your daughter. 

“She’s with my dad back home. She’s safe. She just needs a cuddle from her dad.”

Steve nodded. “I think I need one from her, too.”

Two weeks later, Steve brought Bucky and Sam home. 

“Honey, come here.” Your daughter ran to her dad’s side. “Sam, Buck. I’d like you to meet Aurora. Rory, honey, this is Sam and Bucky.”

Sam knelt down and shook her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, miss.”

Meanwhile, Bucky was in pure shock. Slowly, he knelt beside Sam and Bucky felt his life flash before his eyes. 

“Steve…she looks like your mom.”

As Rory studied Bucky, she decided to hug him. Sam smiled and so did you and Steve. And eventually Bucky hugged her back, frightened he might break her. 

“Can I show them my room?”

The consensus was yes and whilst Sam was dragged towards her bedroom, Rory shouting for you to follow, Bucky and Steve followed behind. 

Inside her room, her walls were covered in different pictures she’d drawn of the different stories Steve had told her. Of course, most of them were stick men, but the message was still clear. 

A week later, a funeral was held for Tony and the Stones had to be returned. 

Standing beside Bucky as Steve stood on the platform, Aurora stood and waited in between both of you. 

And in what was a few seconds later, Steve returned with Natasha by his side. 

Aurora gasped and bolted forward. 

“Aunty Nat!”

“Careful, kiddo.” Steve warned just before Aurora collided with her, but Natasha shook her head. 

“It’s okay.” 

Lifting her into her arms, she hugged her tightly.  

“You’re back.”

Natasha smiled. “Thanks to your dad.”

Looking at her dad, she smiled before hugging Natasha again. 

“I’ll be back in a minute.” 

Natasha nodded and carried Rory back towards you before everyone started running over. Meanwhile, you watched as Steve walked over to Sam. 

Ten minutes later, your daughter bolted from the crowd and towards her dad who was finally out of his protection suit. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Seeing you again, Steve kissed you before kissing Rory’s cheek. 

“Everything okay?”

Steve watched as Fury made his way over to Sam, and he smiled. 

“Everything’s good.”

Kissing you again, Steve smiled. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For walking into that room when you did.” Steve told you. “I’m just sorry it took me so long to do something about it.”

You shook your head, looking from him to your daughter and back to him. “It happened when it was meant to.”

Steve smiled before he kissed you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Tony was right; Steve found the life with you he’d always wanted, even if it did take him a decade to do something about it. 

[fandomnerd9602]

Natasha: is this really how you want to spend all day? Lounging on the couch and watching tv?

Y/N: no

Natasha: oh?

Y/N: I want to spend all day lounging on the couch and watching TV with you in my arms

Natasha: that’s better

Natasha dives right into Y/N’s waiting arms…

[rainix13]

Loving Her Is (Im)possible

masterlist

Natasha Romanoff x Civilian!Reader

description: They say loving the Black Widow is impossible, so what happens when you meet her?

Words: ~2k

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none I think, not proof read tho

I know this is shitty, I wrote this coping with myself lmao.

Next one is promised to be good or at least better again

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨��｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡⋆｡°✩｡⋆｡✮ ⋆ ˚｡⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

Loving her is impossible. That's what they say.

Meeting her is easy.

Red hair, brown coat, black boots.

And effortless elegance that held the power to draw everyone's attention but prevent anyone from making eye contact. Or comment on her.

"A large, black coffee please" her voice carried the same unspoken authority her movements displayed.

Rough and soft at the same time, polite but distanced. She layed one hand on the counter while waiting. With the other hand she removed her sunglasses, letting them fall in the pocket of her coat. A few curious glances from the other customers in her direction but most just continued their conversations.

You watched the interaction, studying her. How she glanced over the room. How she corrected her own posture - and you did instinctively too. How she took her cup and took yet another glance over the room but in a seemingly different way. Her eyes locked onto you.

She directed a small, greeting nod to you and you responded with a friendly smile. "That seat doesn't seem taken", the redhead mostly stated, sitting on the chair across your own.

"You can't be sure of that" you replied with a teasing grin. The woman chuckled. A low, soft and intriguingly dangerous sound, sending a shiver down your spine. You tried to save it, lock it in your memory and protect it, the moment you heard it. If you could do something to get to hear it again, you would.

"So you're saying this seat is taken, princess?" a playful glint in her eyes, knowing exactly that it wasn't.

And within a split second your mind surrendered. You weren't sure if it was the nickname or just the way your own teasing backfired but you flushed and glued your eyes to your hands. "No" you mumbled, holding the cup in your hands just a little tighter. A shy smile played around your lips.

"No need to be shy, sweetheart. I'm Natasha"

Meeting her was embarrassing in a way you enjoyed it.

Knowing her is easy.

You knew who she was. Everybody does. The media is flooded with footage of her, everytime something in the world happens. Everybody sees what you could see that day.

Effortless perfectionism. Authority without room for arguments.

She was the Black Widow.

In press conferences the backbone of the avangers.

No one knew her. Behind that perfect mask that would allow her to dominate the whole room, was in reality something different.

Behind that perfect image was a human just as everyone else is. Someone who sometimes feels lonely. Someone who's guarded but also someone who let a few things slip from time to time.

You were aware that everything you saw of her was calculated. A risk she took.

A nightmare she told you she had. Explaining why her day was bad. Asking you what she should cook.

You never got much to grasp on, but to every little detail you held on as if it was sacred.

Nat:

I'm bored

What should I do?

You:

Me [you deleted that as soon as you typed it]

Cinnamon rolls

And just two hours later it'd ring on your door.

"Hey, I brought cinnamon rolls."

You laughed, seeing her physically relax under your careless happiness as you invited her in.

The Black Widow was an open book - someone everybody could know within thirty minutes of amateurish research.

Natasha Romanoff was more than that.

A closed book with a lock, behind bars, behind walls.

She rarely shared something about what she actually did or felt at any given moment. But if she'd let something slip you'd pick it up and cherish it.

Talking to her is easy.

Without even noticing in less than a month your world was upside down.

Checking your phone every ten minutes for notifications, even though you know the screen lits up when you get one.

Smiling when it does.

Denying the small bit of disappointment when the notification doesn't begin with "Nat 💕:".

Going silent on phone calls with others for a moment when you recieved a message from her. Being mentally absent while playing cards, glancing down at the phone beside you, answering whenever it's not your turn.

You:

How was your day?

Nat💕:

{voice message 1:48}

You loved these. You loved listening to her voice, detecting the satisfaction when she told you about a successful mission, hearing the frustration when some recruits didn't listen to her in training and then obviously failed the task at hand. You loved her sighs when she was tired.

Soon you yearned for every interaction you could get. A small chat, a short phone call. Or when you had the time you'd bring her a coffee over.

The first time you did, you weren't sure you'd get out of the building in one piece.

You learned that day that Shield doesn't have visitors. Especially not ordinary people and definitely not one's who come in without an agent.

Your hands were shaking as you held them over your head, in one still the coffee you brought.

"What do you want?" The guy, who asked this just entered the area, motioning for the security to stay in position.

"u-uh visiting? A friend" you added and cringed internally about verbally friendzoning the redhead. But that's the most fitting description. Maybe even exactly what she sees in you. A friend. One she likes to flirt and tease with just to see how it messses with your head.

"And who is that friend?" he walked behind you, taking the coffee from your hand.

"Natasha? Romanoff..." your voice grew quieter realizing how unrealistic that must sound. And just as confirmation he scoffed "Of course. And if that's true, why isn't Agent Romanoff here to get you through security? And further, why is the name on this coffee 'Nathan'?"

Now you scoffed, rolling your eyes "So now it's my fault that coffeeshops can't get names right?? You can't convince me no coffeeshop ever wrote your name wrong" You regretted those word almost as soon as they left your mouth but now it was too late anyway.

But before anyone reacted to that, the clicking of heels cut through the tension. Just as they stopped a familar voice spoke up from behind you "You have some nerves, giving these kind of answers while having two guns directed at you, princess"

Your cheekes flushed at the nickname. You knew she did that on purpose, relishing your involuntary reaction. And it happened every time.

With probably another motion of one of the two behind you the security guys backed down and you turned around with a small smile on your lips. "Well, bold of you to show up so late they almost shoot me"

When you sat down on a couch in what you presumed was her office she took a sip from her coffee and sighed. "Nathan, huh?" A smirk playing around her lips.

You snorted meeting her eyes with a mischievous glint in your own "Maybe I made the barista write down the wrong name intentionally. But a coffee wouldn't be a coffee if they got your name right twice in a row"

It became a little game of yours. Trying to find a new variant or fucked up way to mess with each others name.

These meetings happened more often, you bringing her coffee or lunch. Talking, laughing, joking. You learned that the guy, who questioned you on your first time there was Clint, Natasha's best friend. Soon these lunch breaks became the thing you looked most forward to, by the start of a week.

You got to meet Clint, introducing himself with saying something along being sorry for almost having you shot. And by then all of you could only laugh about that first encounter.

On a fandom friday she took you to the shooting range after another shared lunch. Handing you one of her pistols she positioned herself behind you. Guiding your legs to stand in the right stance, moving her hands along your arms so you wouldn't hurt yourself. And while you loved learning to shoot, her being pressed against your back made it hard to focus. How her touch burned itself under your skin, how her scent surrounded you. And suddenly you felt like one of the recruits she liked to complain about. Distracted.

Of course Natasha noticed. But she didn't seem mind it, when it was you. She didn't mind having to guide you into the right position another time and maybe even a third. At least she didn't say so. She seemed to enjoy the time you had as much as you did and that alone made your heart skip a bit.

Watching yourself fall for her feels scary. Like the craziest thing you've ever done.

Running away is easy.

Especially when self-doubt is consuming you.

When she's out on missions and you don't get any response to your messages for hours or days.

You start to doubt yourself, if this was right for you.

The redhead tried to push you away only shortly after you met. Telling you that she's too much for you. That her life isn't made for her to fit in your world. You managed go convince her from the opposite.

Now you were the one doubting if that was the right decision.

On the one side fearing how much this is about to hurt if you don't work out, on the other already being too attached to let go now.

Not without trying.

But after just another day of radio silence from her side you feel like ending things would be best for you. Or after another conversation, where you realize that she's not actually telling you what she feels or what's bothering her. Giving only so short answers to your messages that something like a conversation wouldn't even begin - it hurt you probably more than it should.

But you didn't blame her. Or you tried not to. You knew that this was an unsettling kind of jealousy with no one to be jealous of. No one you knew about. But that didn't make it easier. It just drained your energy on these days, killing some of your usually good mood. Every one of those days giving you another reason to leave.

Running away. Not without an explanation, that would be unfair. She deserved to understand. And while you're trying to convince yourself that hurting her by leaving now would be less bad than doing it even later and that it would probably be for the best for both of you, you couldn't shake the feeling that she would've felt used.

And every time you think about that, she texts you, answering your last message and pushing the thought of leaving away immediately - not that she's aware of that but she still does. The start of a conversation, that filled you with a strange sense of happiness. A happiness that kept you from running.

The urge to stay is impossible to ignore. The want to understand every action before calling it unreasonable, taking all reasons to leave and burn them down, you kept only the reasons to stay.

A stupid smile with every message.

An shy and embarrassing flush with every tease.

The commitment to understand her and give her time.

You mentally burned whatever you read about her on the internet. Banning news reports about her, ignoring blogs judging her or her job in any way.

Instead you chose to focus on every single bit that seemed to be real and held on to it. Every soft chuckle, the glint in her eyes when they meet yours, her sighs at the end of a voice message about an overly exhausting day.

Everything that you knew was her. What didn't scream 'ex-assassin and spy'.

You chose to learn and hold on to what you got about Natasha instead of Widow.

You chose to ignore the reasons to leave for now.

Red hair, brown coat, black boots.

And a caring smile in your direction.

Loving her could turn out so easy.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡⋆｡°✩｡⋆｡✮ ⋆ ˚｡⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

[widowromanova]

Sniper (Part 4) - Natasha x Female reader

warnings: slight violence, smut

word count: 6759

The rooftop was silent except for the distant hum of the city below. You stayed there for a moment longer, gripping the edge of the railing as if holding on could somehow bring her back. But it couldn’t.

Your breath came out in uneven bursts, the adrenaline starting to wane, leaving only the ache of her absence. Again. The memory of her red hair streaking through the wind seared into your mind.

Then her words echoed back, sharp and unrelenting: Things change.

A rush of determination surged through you. This wasn’t over. Natasha didn’t leave loose ends, and she certainly didn’t come to that rooftop tonight just to disappear.

No, she wanted you to follow her. You pushed yourself away from the edge and adjusted the strap of your gear. Whatever game she was playing, you were done hesitating. If Natasha wanted to draw you into her web, you’d follow - but on your terms.

As you descended the stairs of the building, the familiar tension in your chest began to harden into resolve. You replayed every word, every movement, searching for clues. The gala rooftop wasn’t random. It was deliberate. There had to be a reason she chose this place to confront you - and to vanish.

By the time you reached the street, the cool night air had sharpened your focus. You didn’t have much to go on, but you knew Natasha.

You tightened your coat around you and set off into the city. One step closer to finding her. As you walked through the streets, your mind raced with possibilities. Where would she go? Then, like a lightning strike, it hit you - the safehouse.

It was a relic from a time when trust had been implicit between you, before everything unraveled. The small, nondescript apartment on the edge of the city had been your shared sanctuary, hidden from prying eyes. Neither SHIELD nor anyone else knew about it, and for a while, it had felt like the only place in the world where the two of you could truly breathe.

Your pace quickened as the memory came flooding back: the mismatched furniture, the faint smell of coffee that lingered in the air, and the way Natasha would sit cross-legged on the floor, absentmindedly dismantling and reassembling weapons while you tried to convince her to take a break.

You hadn’t thought about the safehouse in years, but now it seemed like the only place that made sense. If she was leading you anywhere, it had to be there.

You returned to your apartment first. You couldn’t go to her empty-handed - not this time. If Natasha had taught you anything, it was to be prepared, to think two steps ahead.

The room was silent when you entered, the faint hum of the city outside barely registering. Your eyes swept over the space as you moved with purpose toward the hidden compartment beneath your bed. You hadn’t opened it in years, but you knew exactly what was inside.

Sliding the compartment open, you reached in and pulled out a small, unassuming black case. Inside was the device. It was SHIELD tech, highly experimental, designed specifically to counteract enhanced abilities or nullify even the most skilled opponents. It worked like an EMP, but instead of disrupting electronics, it disrupted neural pathways temporarily, effectively incapacitating the target.

Natasha wouldn’t see it coming.

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers brushing over the smooth surface of the device. This was now about finding the person in her that you used to know. You slid the device into your jacket pocket, its presence a weight.

As you stood, your gaze flicked to the corner of your desk, where an old photo frame sat. It was one of the few things you hadn’t thrown away - a picture of the two of you from years ago, back when things had been simpler.

You picked it up, studying her face. The smile, the way her eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. The Natasha in this photo was a world apart from the woman you’d faced tonight. Sliding the photo out of the frame, you tucked it into your other pocket. Not for her - no, this was for you. A reminder of what was at stake. With a steadying breath, you grabbed your gear and headed out the door, your mind already focused.

By the time you reached the outskirts of the city, the dim glow from the morning sun started to appear. The streets grew quieter as you neared the old building. The safehouse was tucked away on the third floor, its faded brick exterior blending seamlessly into the neighbourhood. You hesitated at the entrance, your hand hovering over the doorframe as you steeled yourself.

The lock was newer than you remembered, a subtle sign that someone had been here recently. Natasha. Of course, she’d updated it. You pulled out your tools, your hands steady despite the adrenaline surging through you. The lock gave way with a quiet click, and you pushed the door open cautiously.

The interior was dimly lit, the curtains drawn tight. It smelled faintly of dust, mixed with something sharper - gun oil, maybe. The layout was almost exactly as you remembered it: the small kitchen to the left, the couch you’d both hated but never replaced, and the table where countless plans had been scribbled onto napkins and scraps of paper.

But it wasn’t just the memory of the place that hit you - it was the realisation that she had been here, recently. A half-empty glass of water sat on the counter. The faintest imprint of her boots on the dusty floor. And then you saw it: the box.

Sitting on the table, a plain wooden box, its lid slightly ajar. Your stomach tightened as you approached it, your hands brushing against the smooth surface. Inside were photos - pictures of the two of you. Moments you’d thought were long buried.

She’d taken them. Not stolen, but preserved. Why?

You flipped through them, your throat tightening with each one. The two of you at the safehouse, her leaning on your shoulder, you laughing at something she’d said. Another from a mission, her smirk caught perfectly in the frame.

Beneath the photos was a slip of paper. You unfolded it, the words scrawled in her unmistakable handwriting:

"Not yet. You’ll know when."

The message left you reeling. You clenched the note in your fist, your resolve hardening. If she wanted to keep pulling you into her game, you’d follow her lead. But this time, you wouldn’t hesitate.

The safehouse felt oppressive now, its familiarity twisted into something unsettling. You turned, scanning the room for anything else she might have left behind. Your gaze landed on the couch, and for a moment, you could almost see her sitting there, legs tucked beneath her, a knowing smirk on her lips as if she had predicted your every move.

You paced to the window, pulling back the heavy curtain just enough to peer out into the quiet street below. The faint glow of dawn had given way to full daylight, the city starting to stir. Natasha was out there somewhere.

Was she trying to test your loyalty, your resolve, or was there some part of her that still wanted you to understand? To see the reasons behind her actions?

You turned back to the table, your eyes falling on the box again. The photos were a stark contrast to the woman you faced now. They showed moments of vulnerability, of trust, of something real.

The weight of the device in your pocket brought you back to the present. It was a contingency plan, a last resort. But even as you’d taken it, you knew you didn’t want to use it - not unless there was no other choice.

With one last glance around the safehouse, you moved to the door. You’d learned all you could here. The note was clear enough: Natasha wasn’t done with you yet, and she wanted you to keep looking. But if you were going to find her, you’d need to anticipating her next move before she made it. If there was a part of Natasha still worth saving, you had to believe she was leading you to it.

You stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind you. The quiet click of the lock felt like you were leaving the past behind - again. But this time, you weren’t chasing memories; you were chasing her.

And you wouldn’t stop until you caught up.

You exited the building, stepping onto the quiet street as the sun crept higher into the sky. The city was waking up, the hum of traffic and distant chatter pulling you back into the present. You pulled your coat tighter, both reassuringly and suffocatingly.

You moved with purpose, blending into the crowd as you retraced steps you hadn’t walked in years. Natasha’s note had been vague, but her choice of location wasn’t random. If she wanted you to find her, she’d leave a trail.

The first stop wasn’t the obvious one. It was the nearby café where the two of you used to meet during missions, a quiet corner of the city where secrets were exchanged over bitter coffee. The thought was almost laughable now - how many times had she teased you for always ordering the same thing?

The café hadn’t changed much. The smell of freshly brewed coffee greeted you as you stepped inside, and the faint hum of conversation filled the air. You scanned the room, your heart skipping a beat when your eyes landed on the corner table. It was empty now, but the memory of her sitting there, her red hair catching the light as she leaned in close to whisper something only for you, was vivid.

You approached the table, your eyes darting to the small notepad left for customers to write reviews or messages. It was a long shot, but Natasha had a flair for theatrics. Flipping through the pages, you found nothing out of the ordinary - until you reached the very last page.

Scrawled in the corner was a simple line: "Close, but not quite."

Your grip tightened on the edge of the notepad as frustration bubbled up. She was toying with you, but at least you were on the right track.

You left the café, your mind working furiously. If she’d been here, she couldn’t have gone far. Natasha was deliberate in everything she did. The safehouse, the note, the café - they weren’t just breadcrumbs.

Your next destination was clear: the alley behind the café, where you used to slip away unnoticed. It was a spot you both knew well, a place where conversations had been had in hushed tones.

As you stepped into the alley, the air grew colder, the shadows stretching long against the brick walls. The faint scent of cigarette smoke lingered, though you knew Natasha didn’t smoke. Your eyes scanned the area, every nerve on edge. Then, tucked into the crevice of a windowsill, you saw it: a small, folded piece of paper.

You unfolded it carefully, the faint imprint of her handwriting making your heart clench.

"You’re getting warmer."

The cryptic message struck a chord. You could almost hear her voice in the words, playfully laced with a smirk.

You folded the note and slipped it into your pocket. With determination, you made your way through the city streets. It was almost instinctual now, the way you moved, the way you searched for where she’d be.

You had been there before, a small, forgotten alley hidden behind a set of old warehouses on the outskirts of the city. The perfect spot for her to challenge you.

The alley was quiet, the air thick with the scent of old machinery and smoke. You walked further in, scanning your surroundings. At first, nothing seemed out of place—until you noticed the torn edge of a scrap of paper caught in the corner of a rusted fence. You grabbed it quickly, unfolding it with urgency.

"Come on... obviously I wouldn't make it this easy."

The note sent a surge of irritation through you. You gritted your teeth, crumpling the piece of paper in your fist. It angered you that the plan she had for you to follow her was working. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, trying to clear your mind. She'd want you to be angry, to let your emotions guide you. That's why the notes were so carefully crafted, an intricate mix of challenge and mockery. Natasha's smugness practically dripped from the words.

You stood there for a moment, your pulse still running high from the chase, but a wave of exhaustion slowly started to settle over you. Your feet felt heavier as you turned back, the alley stretching ahead of you in the growing dark. The distant sounds of the city, once a comfort, now felt more like an oppressive weight. You weren't sure if you were ready to keep going, if you even could.

As you walked, the light of the fading day grew dimmer, the air cooler, and the streets less crowded. The more you thought about finding hr, the more you realised how little you had left to go on.

Eventually, your pace slowed, and the anger you’d felt earlier was replaced with something quieter. The irritation began to bleed out of you, and what replaced it was a sense of helplessness.

By the time you reached the familiar bridge that led home, you realised you were done for the night. The streetlights flickered on, casting long shadows on the pavement. You tugged your collar up against the evening chill, your thoughts scattered, and continued forward, the hum of the city now distant enough that you could hear the sound of your own breath.

And then, a small sound - a rock skittering across the ground.

You stopped in your tracks, heart skipping a beat. Slowly, you turned, the sudden shift in the air making your senses sharpen. There, standing a few feet away in the half-light, was Natasha. Her presence was unmistakable, like she’d been waiting for you.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The space between you felt heavy. Finally, she spoke, her voice low, almost quiet. "Is that it then, Y/N?"

Her eyes met yours, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. You could feel the challenge crackling between you.

You didn’t answer right away. What was there to say? Instead, you took a breath and let the silence hang for just a moment longer.

"Where are we going with this?" you asked, your voice steady despite the way your pulse was quickening. "What do you want, Natasha?"

She didn’t answer immediately, just stared at you for a long beat. Then, her lips curved into that same small, knowing smile. "Maybe I want you to figure it out."

Her words lingered in the cool night air. You stared at her.

"You always did like making things complicated," you said, your voice sharp, betraying the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Why now? You could’ve ended it all already."

She tilted her head, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, as if savouring the tension. "Maybe I didn’t want it to end," she replied softly, taking a step closer. "Maybe I wanted to see how far you'd go. You always did surprise me."

The distance between you shrank with each step she took, and yet, it felt like she was miles away. You stayed rooted to the spot, not letting her be the only one to move.

"I could’ve walked away," you said, your tone low. "But I didn’t. So what now, Natasha?"

She came to a stop, just inches from you. Her eyes never left yours. “This isn’t a game, Y/N. Never has been.”

"Then what are we doing?" you asked. For a moment, she didn’t answer. Her gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips, and for just a second, you thought she might say something, but she didn’t.

Instead, she stepped closer, her voice barely a whisper. "You’ll know soon enough."

Then, without waiting for a response, she took a step back, her gaze still steady on you, leaving you standing there.

"Why now?" you asked, breaking the silence, your voice more vulnerable than you intended.

Her lips curled, but there was no humour in it. "Because you’re here," she said simply, the answer almost too casual for the weight of the moment. "And you always follow the trail."

Your chest tightened, the sharp sting of realization hitting you. She was right. You had been following, hadn’t you? Every note, every cryptic word—this whole chase—it had all been because you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to understand her. Even when you knew you shouldn’t.

"You never make things easy," you muttered, mostly to yourself.

Natasha’s gaze softened for a fraction of a second, like a glimpse of something more familiar, something closer to the woman you once knew. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that cool, unreadable mask.

"It's not supposed to be," she said, her voice low. "That’s how it works."

You looked at her, the questions swirling in your mind, but you didn’t ask. Not yet. Instead, you took a breath, trying to ground yourself.

"Where do we go from here?" you finally asked.

Her gaze flicked to the city skyline in the distance, and for a moment, she seemed far away. "We keep moving forward," she said softly, the words heavy with some unspoken meaning. "Because I have no other choice, Y/N."

And then she turned, her silhouette disappearing into the shadows of the night.

The night seemed colder now. The tension from just moments ago had dissipated, but the uncertainty remained, gnawing at you like an unhealed wound.

You wanted to chase after her, to demand answers, to understand what the hell she meant by everything. But something inside you held back - an old instinct, the same one that had warned you before.

Some days had passed, many spent wallowing in your apartment trying to decode everything she had ever done or said to you. The walk back to your apartment on this day felt longer than ever, every person reminding her of you - you had stopped by the café to experience your warm memories again. Maybe for the last time.

The sound of your footsteps echoed in the still night. It was then that you heard it - a low hum, the unmistakable sound of a vehicle pulling up behind you.

You turned instinctively, but before you could react, the car came into view, its headlights cutting through the darkness.

The car stopped in front of you, the engine dying with a soft sputter. The door opened, and there she was - Natasha, her figure illuminated by the faint glow of the car screen. Her eyes met yours across the distance, unreadable, calm.

"Did you really think I was done with you?" she asked, her voice quiet.

You didn’t answer right away. You couldn’t. Instead, you just watched her, trying to read her expression. Her body language was relaxed, but you knew better than to trust that. Natasha never let her guard down fully.

"Where are we going, Natasha?" you finally asked, your voice steady despite the way your pulse had quickened.

She stepped forward, the car door still ajar behind her. "You’ll see," she replied, her lips curling into that familiar, enigmatic smile. You stepped forward, toward her, knowing that walking away now wasn’t an option.

The interior of the car smelled faintly of leather and gun oil, a subtle reminder of the world you and Natasha both inhabited. As you slid into the passenger seat, she moved with practiced ease, shutting the door behind her and taking the wheel.

The engine roared to life, and she pulled the car onto the road without a word. The silence between you was heavy, filled with the weight of questions you couldn’t ask and answers you weren’t ready to hear. The glow of the city lights streaked across her face, accentuating the sharp angles and the shadows that seemed to cling to her.

Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, you broke it. "This feels familiar," you said, your voice cutting through the hum of the engine.

Natasha’s lips twitched into the faintest of smiles. "Some things don’t change," she replied, her tone almost amused.

You turned to face her, studying her profile. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened for just a fraction of a second, a movement so small you might have missed it if you weren’t watching her so closely. "Not everything has to," she said after a moment.

She was always like this - just enough honesty to keep you hooked, but never enough to give you clarity.

The car slowed as she pulled into a desolate stretch of road, flanked by crumbling warehouses and overgrown lots. The city’s glow faded behind you, replaced by the stark stillness of the outskirts.

She parked the car and turned off the engine, leaving you both in the silence of the night. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then she turned to face you, her eyes piercing in the dim light.

"Do you remember the first time we were here?" she asked, her voice softer now, almost vulnerable.

You frowned, glancing around. The place looked vaguely familiar, but the memory eluded you. Natasha chuckled, noticing your confusion. "Relax," she said, a hint of the old familiarity creeping back into her tone. She nodded towards the glove compartment, gesturing for you to open it. You obliged, the old leather creaking under your fingers as you flipped up the lid. Inside was the familiar sight of a sleek handgun, resting atop a stack of old maps. But beneath the map, your eyes caught sight of something else: a faded photo.

You pulled it out carefully, your fingers tracing the edges as you studied the picture. The photo showed the two of you, younger and carefree. The backdrop was a familiar city alley, the old brick wall still standing in the same spot. Neither of you were looking at the camera; instead, you were leaning close to each other, each wearing a cocky smirk.

It had been taken years ago during your time in SHIELD. You remembered that day clearly; the mission to infiltrate a rival organization's headquarters had gone smoothly, but the adrenaline from the success had led to a moment of carelessness. You remembered standing in the abandoned alleyway, the thrill of success still coursing through your veins. It was then that Natasha had pulled out her phone and snapped the shot.

Memories came flooding back as you stared at the image. You could feel the rough texture of the brick wall against your back, the cold night air on your skin. And there was Natasha, her arm slung casually around your shoulders as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

You turned to look at her, seeing the subtle change in her expression. Her eyes were fixed on the photo, a mixture of nostalgia and something softer flitting across her features.

Without looking away, she spoke. "We had it all mapped out back then, didn't we?" she mused.

You looked back down at the photo, not saying anything. Natasha studied your face for a moment, the silence stretching between you like a taut rope. Finally, she spoke again.

"We were reckless," she said, almost more to herself than to you. Her gaze drifted back to the photo, a faint smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Always pushing boundaries. You remember that time we decided to go deep undercover in that mob hangout without any backup?"

Her tone was casual, but there was a spark in her eyes that betrayed her memory of that night. You remained silent for a while, running your thumb across the photo, "We're still reckless, Nat."

Natasha's expression dropped momentarily before saying, "There's things that have to be done, Y/N." She turned away from the photo, looking down at the cuts on her hands. In the dim light of the car, Natasha's face looked almost gaunt, etched with lines that hadn't been there before.

You studied her in the silence, seeing hints of the woman you used to know beneath the mask she now wore. But there was also a coldness in her eyes.

"They don't have to be done like this, Nat." That use of her name made her eyes dilate ever so slightly. She didn't look at you, but you saw the stiffening of her shoulders. Neither of you spoke for several moments, the words hanging heavy in the air. She was the first to break the quiet.

"You always were too soft." Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. She placed her hands on the wheel, turning her head at you, "How should they be done then, Y/N?"

There was a challenge in her gaze, as if she was daring you to answer.

"There's always another way." You kept your voice soft. Natasha let out a dry laugh, the sound harsh in the quiet car, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the wheel. She drove the car further towards the warehouse before suddenly stopping outside its large gate. She stepped out of the car, leaning down to peer into the car.

"You know that's not true," she said, "there's no room for 'another way' in our line of work, Y/N."

You followed her lead, stepping out of the car into the cold night air. The old warehouse loomed before you, its shadowy form a stark contrast against the faded glow of the city lights. You knew she was right, you'd both seen the darker side of the world.

The wind bit at your skin as you closed the car door behind you, the sound echoing faintly in the stillness. Natasha was already walking toward the warehouse, each step crunching softly on the gravel beneath her boots. You hesitated for a moment, staring at her back, before following.

"You say there's no room," you called after her, your voice cutting through the quiet. "But you’re here, Natasha. So what does that mean?"

She stopped just short of the warehouse's rusted door, her hand hovering over the handle. For a moment, you thought she wouldn’t answer, that she’d let the silence be her reply. But then, without turning, she spoke.

"It means I wanted to see if you’d follow." Her tone was even.

You stepped closer, the chill of the night forgotten. "And what if I hadn’t?"

She glanced over her shoulder, a faint smirk tugging at her lips, but her eyes betrayed no humour. "Then I’d have my answer."

The implication stung more than it should have. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet her gaze. "And now that you do?"

Natasha turned fully to face you, her expression unreadable. "Now we find out if you’re ready for what comes next."

She pushed the door open with a loud groan, the sound echoing into the dark expanse beyond. The warehouse was dimly lit by flickering overhead lights, casting long, distorted shadows on the concrete floor. Inside, the air was thick with dust and the faint tang of rust.

You followed her inside, your footsteps echoing softly. "You’ve always been good at the cryptic act," you said, your voice low but sharp. You stopped, the echo of your boots ceasing. "I’m tired of guessing, Natasha. What’s this really about?"

She stopped in the centre of the room, her arms crossed as she regarded you. For a moment, she didn’t say anything, just let the silence stretch. Then, finally, she spoke.

"It’s about us, Y/N," she said, her voice softer now. "It’s about what we’ve done. How we've both changed."

The weight of her words settled over you, heavy and inescapable. "And what’s your solution?" you asked, keeping your tone even. "We walk in and make peace with it all?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she looked away. "No," she said quietly. "We decide if it’s worth fighting for."

You stared at her, trying to reconcile the woman in front of you with the one you thought you knew. "And what if it is?"

Her gaze snapped back to yours, sharp and searching. "Then you’ll have to prove it," she said, a challenge laced in her tone.

Silence fell between you again, the only sound the steady drip of water somewhere in the shadows. She looked away, her eyes fixed on the dust-covered machinery that had once been in operation. Finally, you spoke again.

"How do I prove it?"

Her head tilted slightly at the question, her gaze flickering back to you. She seemed almost amused by your directness. "Impatient as always," she mused.

She moved, circling a stack of metal crates in the corner, her footsteps echoing off the bare concrete walls. There was a pause as she traced her fingers along the rusted surface, as if she were deep in memory. You waited, the silence stretching around you. Then she spoke, still facing away from you.

"We start with one question," she said, her tone measured. "Do you trust me?"

You used to. But the years of secrets you had shared had built a barrier between the two of you that felt like miles in the dark. She turned to face you, her eyes locking on yours across the room. The distance felt even longer under her stare, her face still a mask of neutrality no matter how much her hands betrayed her.

You dropped your head, unsure of how to respond. She scoffed at your silence, shaking her head.

“That’s what I thought,” she said. There was a hardness in her voice that you’d rarely heard before.

She moved again, pacing in a small circle around you. You stayed still, every nerve in your body on edge. She stopped, her face just inches away from yours. You could see each individual freckle on her skin under the dim warehouse lights, every line on her face as she studied you.

Natasha was so close you could feel her breath on your cheek, could see every flicker of thought behind her cool exterior. Then, in a voice barely more than a whisper, she asked,

"Do you trust me?"

The question hung in the air, each syllable almost painfully loud in your ears. You looked into her eyes, seeing the challenge there. She was asking for more than just an answer.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the words lodged in your throat. You wanted to say yes. She continued to stare at you, waiting for your answer.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you whispered, "Why should I?"

Her gaze hardened for a moment, a spark of annoyance flashing across her face. "Because that's what partners do," she said, her voice a bit sharper than before.

You could see the frustration build in the set of her shoulders, the way her muscles tensed and relaxed under the light of the warehouse bulb. She wanted you to say yes. "We haven't been partners for a long time, Nat," you warily replied.

Her face was blank, expressionless as she processed your words. But you knew her well enough to see the tension in the way she held herself.

For a moment, she said nothing, just stared at you with her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket. Finally, her lips curled up into a bitter smile. "Fine," she said, her voice flat. "Then what are we?"

You took a step towards her, unable to keep yourself from closing the distance. Her eyes didn’t move from yours, but she stiffened at your approach. You studied her face, the hard lines and angles that were all too familiar. "We were colleagues once," you said, the words so soft you weren’t sure if she heard you as you took a step closer. "Then friends, then…" your voice drifted off, suddenly realising the pain you had felt at losing her.

"Then what, Y/N?" Natasha's expression looked more solemn now.

You swallowed, unsure of how to continue. But before you could speak, she spoke again, her voice so quiet it was almost lost in the silence of the warehouse.

"We were a lot of things... weren't we." Her gaze met yours, that forest green burning into you. "We were good, Y/N." She took a step towards you, grabbing your hands to trace her thumb over the ridges of your knuckles. You shivered at the touch, feeling the rough callouses from years of fighting brush against your skin. For a moment, neither of you spoke, just held each other's gaze as your hands remained in her warm hold. She didn't let go of your hands, simply continued to stare at them as if she could read something from the lines on your palm.

Eventually, she spoke, still tracing your knuckles. "Are you scared of me?"

Her voice was quiet but steady, her gaze flickering to your face for a moment before returning to your hands. You swallowed, "Never." She released your hands but didn't step back, still standing close enough that you felt the faint heat of her body.

Her eyes bore into yours, searching, assessing, as if she were trying to figure you out all over again. "You're lying," she said simply.

"I don't lie, Nat." You grabbed her face, crashing your lips into hers. She responded immediately, her hands clutching at your hips, pulling you flush against her body. You stumbled back towards a stack of crates, knocking a loose tool off the rusted metal as you went. She pushed you back into the corner, pinning you against the wall.

Her hands were everywhere, skimming under your shirt and across your skin, her mouth burning hot against your skin as she found the sensitive spot beneath your ear. You arched into her touch, a soft moan slipping out before you could stop it. She was relentless, fingers tracing down your side and leaving shivers in their wake.

You gasped as her mouth continued to burn across your throat, her teeth nipping at your skin. She hummed against your collarbone, the sound sending a wave of electricity down your spine. "You always did have a hard time keeping quiet," she murmured into your shoulder, her hands still moving restlessly over your body.

You grabbed her by the neck, spinning her around, "Just shut the fuck up for a minute, Nat." She let out a sharp exhale as you shoved her backwards against the crates, her hands clutching at your wrists in surprise. A sly smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as her back hit the metal. She chuckled, low and breathless. "There's the fire I remember."

You pressed into her, closing any distance between you. Your fingers tightened on her neck, feeling her pulse pounding against your palm.

"You don't get to do that," you whispered against her skin, every word a hot promise against the hollow of her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut, a soft gasp escaping her lips as you pressed yourself harder against her. She didn't respond, just tilted her head back to give you better access to her neck.

You nipped at her jawline, feeling her body shudder against your lips. She groaned, her hands gripping your hips. Then, her voice cut through the haze of desire.

"It's my turn."

Her words were like a switch. A low growl slipped through your lips as your body responded, your grip on her neck tightening. She took advantage of the moment, shifting against you and suddenly reversing your positions. Your back hit the crates with a thud, her body pressed against yours, her hands pinning yours above your head.

Her eyes locked with yours, a victorious glint in her gaze as she held you there. You struggled against her grip, but she didn't budge, her body keeping you firmly pinned in place. "Always fighting me," she murmured, her breath hot against your ear. Her grip on your wrists was steel, her nails digging into your skin as she pressed even closer.

Her lips traced the shell of your ear as she shifted her weight, pressing even harder against you, her thigh suddenly between your legs. An unsteady breath left your lips as you felt her hand slip past your waistline. Her touch was feather-light, slowly moving up your inner thigh. Her fingers traced the edge of your underwear, a teasing touch that sent a wave of heat through your body. Her breath was hot on your neck, her body still pressed tightly against yours.

You tried to arch into her touch, but her grip tightened on your wrists, pinning you even more firmly in place. Her hand continued its torturous journey down your thigh, every nerve ending on edge, waiting for her to go just a little lower. You let out a strangled gasp, your body quivering with need and frustration. She chuckled darkly at your reaction, her hand still continuing its maddening motion, her fingers tracing small patterns on the thin fabric between your legs.

"So needy," she whispered, her breath hot on your neck. She shifted against you, her thigh pressing firmly against your centre, adding a delicious friction to the heat that pooled between you. Her fingers dipped into your underwear.

"So wet." You whimpered at the sudden touch, your body arching off the metal beneath you. The air filled with the sounds of your gasped breaths as she finally, finally, touched you where you wanted her most. Her fingers slid through your slick folds, circling slowly but never quite giving you what you needed. She took her sweet time, moving at an infuriatingly slow pace as she teased every sensitive spot with knowing precision.

You bucked against her touch, begging without words for more. Your hips straining against her thigh, seeking the relief she was holding just out of reach. She held you there, pinned with her weight and her hands, as she continued her slow torment. Her thumb brushed lightly over your clit, just a brief, almost accidental touch, but it sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you, making your body jerk against her in response. She chuckled again, the sound low and sultry. Her breath was hot against your ear.

"So responsive," she murmured against your neck. Her fingers teased again, one slipping just inside before withdrawing again. You let out a strangled moan, your hips trying to follow her retreating touch. She continued her slow, torturous rhythm, her fingers circling and brushing over you, bringing you close to the edge but never letting you quite reach it.

You bit down hard on your lip, trying to muffle the gasps that escaped with each movement of her touch. Your body was writhing beneath hers, desperate for release, desperate for just a little bit more. For the final time, she brought you closer than ever before. You felt that familiar feeling building again, "Please, Natasha…" you let out breathily. She quickened her pace, making you groan loudly. "Please, don't stop." She then withdrew her hand, licking her fingers clean with an exacting smirk on her face.

You let out a frustrated groan, your body still trembling from the sudden loss of contact. She chuckled, enjoying the sight of you so helpless in her hands.

"So close," she murmured, leaning back to look at your flushed face. "Better luck next time." She chuckled. You groaned in frustration, your body still trembling from the denied release. You tried to pull your hands free from her grip, wanting to reach out and touch her, but she held firm.

She brought her other hand to your face, grabbing you by the chin, "You sit tight, Y/N." She firmly threw your pinned hands down, "I'll be back before you know it," she walked away from you with a wink.

"Where the fuck are you going?" you yelled after her.

She called back over her shoulder, her smirk evident in her voice. "Just taking care of business." And with that, she was gone, her footsteps echoing faintly through the empty warehouse.

You were left there, alone, panting and unsatisfied, her sudden departure leaving you feeling cold and empty. You brought your hand to your head, wiping the sweat off.

What the fuck did you get yourself into.

a/n: hope that was not too long for you guys, part 5??? ;))