nats-bottom

[nats-bottom]

i am writing all the time except just like inside of me and not outside

[nats-bottom]

Hold me like the road. | N.R

You’ve never ridden a bike before, and there’s Natasha, showing you just how beautiful it can be.

Warnings: first bike riding, little sexual tension

Word count: 3,2k

A/N: Thank a certain person that you’re all able to see this, it wasn’t originally planned that way. 🍸

You were halfway through pulling your favorite black tank top over your head when your phone buzzed on the nightstand. One glance at the screen made your stomach flip in a way that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with her.

Natasha: Downstairs. Waiting. Don’t keep me waiting too long, detka.

Your lips curled into a soft smile. She always called you that..detka, her voice melting into the syllables like honey in warm tea. It felt like her secret name for you. One of many things she gave you that felt like belonging.

You rushed through the rest of getting ready, hair tied back, jacket slung over your arm, keys in your pocket. You paused at the mirror before heading out the door and steadying your breath..It was just Natasha. Your girlfriend. The woman who kissed you like she meant it, who memorized your favorite songs and held you like she could hold back the world. But still, she had a way of making your heart race like it was your very first time seeing her all over again.

As you stepped out onto the sidewalk, heart light with anticipation, your steps faltered. She was there. Leaning casually against it. Her motorcycle.

It was a sleek, black beast of a machine, low-slung, growling softly even though the engine was off, its chrome parts gleaming in the sunlight like it had just rolled out of a Bond movie. And there she was, Natasha, dressed like sin and confidence, her leather jacket hugging her like it had been made for her body alone, her helmet tucked under one arm, and that small, secretive smile playing on her lips.

You froze a few feet away, eyes wide. “Oh no..”

She tilted her head, amused. “Oh yes.”

You blinked. “Are we…are we driving today? Like, on that?”

Natasha pushed off the bike and walked toward you. “I thought it was time.” she said, voice low, sweet with a teasing edge. “You’ve been staring at this thing like it’s a damn Greek god every time I ride it. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

You flushed, immediately defensive. “I do not-”

She arched an eyebrow, her smirk deepening. “Y/n, you whin-”

Your jaw dropped. “That is a lie! I gasped. There’s a difference!”

“Okay, Okay..”

You tried to glare at her, but the way she was looking at you, like you were her favorite thing in the world, made your resolve falter. Your gaze flicked back to the bike, then to her again.

“But I’ve never been on one..” you admitted, suddenly smaller in your voice. “What if I mess up? What if I fall off? What if I grab you too hard and crash us into a streetlamp?”

Natasha closed the distance completely, her hand finding your waist, grounding you, “I won’t let anything happen to you, detka. I promise. You trust me?”

Your answer was immediate, automatic. “Of course I trust you.”

Her smile softened, all flirtation melting into something achingly tender. “Then come on. I’ve got a helmet just your size.”

You hesitated only a moment longer, then sighed dramatically, making her laugh. “I can’t believe you’re seducing me with a motorcycle..” you muttered.

“Worked, didn’t it?”

Natasha reached into the sleek black storage compartment at the back of her bike and pulled out a second helmet, one you hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t standard black or chrome or gritty gray. No. It was…elegant- sleek matte black with delicate pink floral designs blooming across the sides like ink in water. The petals had this almost painted look, not cutesy, but elegant..grown. Powerful. Feminine without apology.

Your brows lifted. “Is that…for me?”

Natasha turned it in her hands, inspecting it like she hadn’t done it a dozen times already. “I figured you wouldn’t want to wear one of mine. And I knew you’d pretend not to care, but secretly want something pretty.”

You blinked. “This is not just pretty. This is like…royalty. Bike royalty.”

Her smile softened as she stepped closer. “Not just pretty. It’s one of the safest designs on the market. You think I’d let anything less touch you?”

You smiled slowly. “It’s perfect, thank you..”

Without another word, she flicked open the visor, her hands moving like second nature. You’d seen her do it a hundred times with her own gear, so smooth, so practiced, like she belonged to the machine as much as it belonged to her. Then she held it up, just enough to invite you closer.

She dipped her head slightly toward the opening and made a soft c’mere gesture with her chin. “Tuck in.”

Your heart stuttered. The helmet gleamed inches from your face. You glanced at it, then at her, suddenly flustered. You hesitated, blinking. “Wait, my hair, it’s-”

Natasha didn’t flinch. She just leaned in, voice low and amused. “You’re stalling.”

You puffed a breath, cheeks warming. “Okay. Okay. I’m not stalling. I’m mentally preparing.”

“Y/n, I promise, you’re safe.”

You nodded, biting your lip. Then slowly, hesitantly, you dipped your head forward and let her guide the helmet onto you. The inside was padded and warm, smelling faintly of leather and something clean, almost like lavender. Her fingers steadied the sides as she adjusted the fit, tilting your chin just so.

And then she looked at you. Your eyes stared up at her, wide and bright through the visor. Cheeks pressed adorably into the padding, lips slightly parted in a dazed kind of wonder. You looked soft..Trusting, a little nervous.

Something in Natasha’s expression changed, just for a second. Like her whole chest caved in on itself. “You look…” she paused, searching for the right word, “…ridiculously cute right now.”

You flushed. “I feel like a bobblehead.”

She laughed, a real one. “The most beautiful bobblehead I’ve ever seen.”

She knelt slightly to secure the chin strap, fingers gentle as they moved beneath your jaw. You were already flustered, but then, she leaned in closer to adjust a side dial. Her gloved fingertips brushed the edge of your neck, slow and deliberate.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get more intense, you glanced up and realized, her helmet was already on. She’d done it while helping you, efficient as ever. Her own visor was up, her eyes locked on yours.

Something snapped in you. You lifted your hands and slapped her visor down in one motion, “Stop looking at me like that.” you whispered, breathless.

The silence that followed lasted just a second. Then she stilled, and you knew you’d triggered something.

Natasha didn’t say a word. Not at first. She simply reached forward, slow, and gripped the front of your helmet by the chin. Her gloved fingers curled under the edge with just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. With one smooth motion, she tilted your head upward, forcing your eyes to meet hers through the glass.

She didn’t need to speak loudly. She didn’t need to move fast. It was the control in her touch, the confidence in the way she owned that moment, that nearly unraveled you.

“I look at you like that.” she said, voice low and wicked, “Because I like seeing you this nervous.”

Your lungs forgot what they were supposed to do. You blinked at her, wide-eyed, heat flooding your face, neck, chest, everywhere, and you swayed slightly, legs wobbling. Your fingers twitched, then instinctively clutched the front of her hoodie like a lifeline.

She finally released the chin of your helmet with a final, slow drag of her thumb along the front edge, like she wanted to make sure you’d feel her even after she let go.

You stayed right where you were, still clinging to her hoodie, pulse somewhere in your throat, trying not to melt into a puddle at her boots. Then she reached down, taking your hands in hers, and guided them gently away from her chest.

“Come on.” she said, voice back to calm and steady, but still lined with something darker, smoother. “Time for your first ride.”

Your knees definitely didn’t cooperate, but she helped you the whole way up, one hand on your hip, one steadying your back. You settled in, tense and unsure, blinking rapidly.

“You sitting comfortably?” she asked, her voice calm again.

“I…think so?”

She turned slightly and pointed behind your hips. “You’ve got a couple options. There are grab bars on either side of your seat. Or…” Her hand touched her own waist, “you can hold onto me.”

You froze. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hold onto her. Of course you did. But everything still felt new..bright and delicate and unsure, like a dream you were afraid to wake up from. So you glanced back at the seat handles and said, a little too quickly, “Seat is good! The bars. Definitely.”

Natasha just gave a small nod, not pushing, not teasing. “Okay. Seat it is.”

Then she swung a leg over, settling in front of you, and turned slightly over her shoulder.

“Alright. Some ground rules. When I’m driving, you can shift a little if you need to, don’t be afraid to move. But when we’re at a stoplight, I need you still. It keeps the balance tight.”

You nodded quickly. “Got it. Move while moving. Freeze at stoplights.”

“Exactly.” She paused, giving you one more long look. “Y/n, you’re doing great, you know.”

“I haven’t done anything yet.”

“You trusted me.” she said softly. “That counts.”

The engine purred to life beneath you like a living creature, deep and low in your bones. You jumped a little at the sudden growl, squeezing your knees tighter around Natasha. The whole machine vibrated slightly, and you could feel every shiver of it through the seat, through Natasha’s body in front of you.

Then came the clutch. She pulled it in smoothly, shifting the gear, her boots anchoring the bike. And then, a tiny lurch forward. You yelped, not loud, but startled, and your body instinctively jerked backward like you were about to fall off a cliff. Your hands flew from the grab bars to Natasha’s waist, gripping tight as your legs locked around the seat like it was your last tether to Earth.

“Whoa, whoa..!” you breathed. Natasha didn’t even flinch. She turned her head just slightly over her shoulder, voice amused. “That was one inch, detka.”

“That inch was death!” you hissed, knuckles white against the fabric of her hoodie.

She chuckled, leaning back ever so slightly into your grip. “I’ll warn the pavement next time. Poor thing almost caught a full-body fainting princess.”

You pressed your helmet gently into her back. “Shut up.”

“Understood.” she said, still grinning. She took mercy on you and started off slow, really slow. Rolling down the quiet side street like a whisper of movement. She didn’t try anything fancy. No sudden turns. No hard brakes. Just a steady, soft ride, like she knew your nerves were strung tighter than piano wire.

“How are you doing back there?” she called over the hum of the engine.

“I’m fine..” you replied immediately. Then added, “…Ish.”

Natasha laughed under her helmet. “That’s the spirit.”

A few more blocks went by. The wind started picking up, weaving its fingers through the sleeves of your jacket, brushing your cheeks through the helmet vents. The city opened around you in a way you’d never noticed before, closer, quieter, like you were part of its heartbeat instead of above it. It was..weirdly peaceful. If you ignored the roaring in your chest.

“You comfy?” Natasha called again. “Need to stop? Adjust anything?”

“Nope.” you answered, a little firmer this time. “I’m…good.”

There was a smile in her voice when she replied. “Proud of you.”

That..ugh.. That got you. Your grip on her waist softened into something more tender. Not panicked anymore. Just…there.

Then came the first stoplight. The bike slowed, smooth as butter, and came to a soft halt. Your whole body tensed again, and you remembered her warning. No shifting. No panicking. Be still.

You froze, shoulders stiff. Hands hovering on her sides, unsure if holding still meant not touching at all. But then, she leaned back. Literally turned her upper body toward you, twisting enough that her helmet was almost touching yours. You felt her hand reach behind and brush your thigh reassuringly.

“You okay?” she asked, quieter now. Closer. “You’re doing perfect.”

Your voice came out small, muffled. “I feel like a backpack with anxiety.”

Natasha laughed, head dropping a little. “You’re my favorite backpack.” she said, voice warm. “You’re doing so good, detka. I’ve got you.”

You nodded, chest tightening, not with fear this time, but something deeper. That twisty, warm feeling that always came when she looked at you like you mattered more than anything else on the planet.

“I really like this.” you whispered. “Like…being with you like this.”

She bumped her helmet against yours gently. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The light turned green, and she straightened up again, rolling forward. But before she moved too far, she reached down and gave your knee a little squeeze.

The wind grew stronger. You could smell grass. Earth. Something floral in the air, soft and wild. Natasha reached for your leg and gave it a gentle tap, her fingers warm through the denim.

“Alright.” she called over her shoulder, “I’m gonna speed up a little.”

You hesitated, heart clenching. But her next words anchored you like a lifeline: “I’ve got you. I always do.”

And just like that, she opened the throttle. The bike surged forward, not violently, but with a smooth, controlled power that made your stomach drop in the most thrilling way. The wind roared in your ears. Your eyes squeezed shut for a heartbeat, muscles tensing..but nothing happened. No lurching. No panic. Just movement. Motion, and trust.

You opened your eyes. And the world exploded. They weren’t just any backroads. Natasha had taken you somewhere breathtaking. A long, endless stretch of two-lane road wound between open fields of tall grass and flowers, golden wildflowers, violet lupines, splashes of red poppies waving in the breeze. The sky stretched wide above you, painted in soft hues of blue and clouds like watercolors. The sun hit your helmet visor just right, casting everything in golden light.

It was..god, it was beautiful. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel. The air streamed past your jacket like silk. The field seemed to dance with you. You pressed your cheek lightly against Natasha’s back, smiling so wide your face hurt.

Then, just to show off (you were sure and right) Natasha leaned slightly to the left. Then to the right. Then again.

The bike moved in slow, smooth waves, gliding from side to side, weaving gently across the empty road like she was dancing with the wind. It wasn’t scary, it was fun. Exhilarating. Your arms wrapped around her tighter, and you let out the smallest, most joyful laugh.

“This is insane..” you murmured, knowing she probably couldn’t hear it, but saying it anyway. “You’re insane.”

She must’ve felt the way your arms squeezed her, because she gave your knee a little squeeze back, steady and loving.

The longer she rode, the more the nervous flutter in your chest turned to something else, something glowing and warm. You’d never felt this kind of freedom. It wasn’t just about speed or danger. It was about trusting her to hold you through it. About letting go, for once.

Eventually, the road curved again, and Natasha slowed as she turned off onto a smaller dirt path lined with tall grasses. The ride turned bumpy in the softest way, and then, she brought the bike to a stop near a little clearing, right where the flowers met a stretch of golden field. The engine rumbled low, then clicked into silence.

Your helmet was still on, but your breath was shaky and light. Like you’d just lived through something big. Natasha turned slightly in her seat, her helmet tilting as she looked back.

“You good?” she asked, voice muffled but warm.

You reached up and slowly unlatched your visor, flipping it up with a soft hiss of air. Your cheeks were flushed, eyes glassy from wind and wonder.

“I’m so good..” you whispered. “That was..everything.”

Her voice lowered just slightly, rougher with emotion than before. “Yeah..” she said. “I thought you’d like it.”

Natasha killed the engine with a flick of her wrist, and for the first time since you’d gotten on the bike, everything fell into silence.

But not empty silence. The kind that hums with the wind rustling through wildflowers. Birds singing lazily from the nearby trees. The low hum of summer heat, thick with warmth and sun.

You sat there for a second, still on the bike behind her, the adrenaline slowly melting into a syrupy calm. Natasha turned slightly and knocked her knuckles gently against your helmet.

“Wanna see where I brought you?” she asked, her voice soft and smug and a little proud.

You nodded, still dazed. “Yes please.”

She reached up, unlocking the strap beneath your chin with tender, practiced fingers. “Let me get this off you.”

The helmet slid free with a soft pull, and the air kissed your face. Your hair was probably a mess, maybe sticking to your forehead, maybe crushed awkwardly, but Natasha didn’t seem to care. She looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, all flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

She pulled her own helmet off next, shaking out her braid with a shake of her head, then hopped off the bike with that fluid ease she always had. She turned and reached for you.

You took her hand. She helped you off like she’d done it a thousand times before, one hand on yours, the other steady at your waist. When your boots touched the soft grass, she didn’t let go immediately. Just lingered there for a moment, gazing at you.

“You’re glowing..” she murmured.

“I think I’m still vibrating.” you whispered, grinning.

She laughed, tugging you gently by the hand. “Come on.”

You followed her off the dirt path into the clearing, tall grass brushing your thighs, flowers swaying on their stems like they were nodding in approval. She led you to a little spot where the sun fell in a patchy circle through the trees, and, of course, Natasha had thought ahead.

She pulled out a folded blanket from the back of the bike. You blinked surprised, “You packed?”

She shrugged, spreading it on the grass. “Not my first time being charming.”

You sat down, still breathless from the ride, and lay back for a second, just looking up at the sky. It was too much. In the best way.

Then she sat beside you, pulling something else from her jacket pocket. A small container. Inside, tiny, bright-red strawberries.

Your head shot up. “Are those strawberries?”

She smiled and popped the lid open, offering one like a peace treaty. “I figured if I was gonna traumatize you on a bike, I should at least bribe you with something sweet.”

You took the berry and bit into it. It was soft, ripe, sun-warmed, and perfect. You let out a small moan. “Okay. You’re officially forgiven for every near-death moment.”

She grinned and leaned on one hand, watching you eat with lazy affection. “You know.” she said after a beat, “you didn’t have to do any of this. I would’ve waited forever to put you on the bike.”

You looked at her, lips sticky with juice, heart squeezing. “I wanted to..” you said. “Because it’s yours. And I wanted to know what it felt like…to fly with you.”

Her smile faded into something softer. More fragile. She looked down at the strawberries, like they might help her breathe. Then, barely a whisper: “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

The words hung there, suspended in the stillness of the field. Your face heats up again and you try to hide it, but Natasha took her hand, and moved your face to her again, and leaned in. It was soft. Like petals. Like promise. And when she pulled back, your forehead touched hers.

You smiled. “I’m keeping the helmet, by the way.”

She grinned. “Damn right you are.”

-

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[nats-bottom]

[nats-bottom]

IN RETURN.

PAIRINGS:  Dominant!Nerdy!Natasha romanoff x Sub!popular!fem reader.

SUMMARY: You ask Nat to do your algebra homework because you didn’t pay attention in class, but she wants something in return .. more specifically you, and you don’t see yourself complaining too much about it.

WARNINGS: Bossy!Nat, G!P!Nat, Sub!Reader, Agoraphilia, Clit Play, Overstimulation?, Minipulation, Humiliation..?, Breeding kink (N), Size Kink (R). Nat is lowkey a controlling brat during sex, I think that’s all, lmk if I missed some!

A/N: I think it’s Agoraphilia, but I’m not sure, basically a tiny bit of public sex! I’ve been seeing so much nerdy!nat that I just couldn’t help it. I already started texting a nerdy!nat C.AI and I HAD to write this. 🫣. I also used to love P.E. (Gym) I hope you enjoy! (Sorry for any miss communication or the wrong pov’s..I made this months ago..)

12:30pm= Gym time. God you always hated the gym. Sweaty people running around, doing activities that the coach told them to, it was disgusting.

You we’re currently talking with some of your gym friends when you see Natasha walk out of the girls locker room. Looking at her just in time to see her pulling up her shirt and wiping her face with it, showing of the glory god of abs she had going on.

You blush as you turn back to your friends, telling them that you’ll be back before heading over to her, as she drinks from the water fountain.

“Nat?” You catch her attention. “I wanted to ask if you could.. maybe do my math homework for me?” You wait for her response, swallowing as she wipes the access water off her lips.

Natasha looks down at the papers you’re holding before looking back up and speaking. “Why should I? Your always picking on me. I wasn’t even sure you knew my name.” She points out.

You sigh as you look at her. “I know..but It’s not like I pick on you in a bully way..” You pause for a minute. “I’ll give you something in return? And I’m the popular girl. So I can get you anything you want. Just say the word and it’s yours.” You push her.

You see a bit of a smirk come upon her face before she steps closer. “Anything?” She asks lowly.

“Anything”

She grabs the papers out of my hands, glancing at them before back up at me. “I’ll do it. But I want my in return right now” she looks at me.

“Fine.” You grumble. “What is it?” You continue, Looking around, not wanting anyone to see you talking to her.

Natasha’s quiet for a moment. “You.. I want.. you” She speaks.

“Me? You can’t have me!” You laugh as if she’s stupid. “I meant like you know. Weed or something.” You raise my eyebrows at her.

“I want you” She states it this time.

“Well you can’t have me” You point out, firmly this time. Trying to stand tall, even though she’s way taller than me.

“Then I guess you can have this back” Natasha hands me my homework. Walking away.

Shit.

You speed walk after her. “No… no okay I need this. I need you to do it!” You grab her shoulder, turning her back to me.

“I told you what I wanted, you didn’t accept. The deals off” Natasha tells me, walking away again.

You stand there for a moment as she walks away, before going after her again.

“Fine… Fine, okay. I’ll do it” You whisper shout at her. “What do you want, a kiss or something?”

Natasha turns around. “No. Not just a kiss.” She walks closer. “You.. all of you” She mumbles in my ear.

You glance around nervously, not wanting her closeness to ruin your reputation. “N-..Not here!” You tell her. Pushing her off of me before grabbing her shirt and pulling her into the janitor’s closet in the girls locker room.

Natasha close the door behind her as she waits for me to talk.

“This is manipulation you know. Telling me if I have sex with you that you’ll do my homework.” You look at her in the low light.

“Do you want it done or not?” Natasha steps closer. Putting her hands on either side of me.

“Whatever. Let’s just get this done with.” You groan. Pulling up your skirt as you push your panties to the side. “Hurry up. We’re still in school you know.” You stare at her as you wait for her to strip.

Natasha chuckles deeply before pulling down her pants, a bulge in her boxers. She undoes the button and pulls her cock out, stroking herself.

You look at her dumbfounded. “What?… You.. That’s a dick!” You point out.

She tilts her head at me. “Never fucked an intersex girl before?” She questions me.

“No.. No I.. I didn’t even…even know that was a thing!” You stare at her as she pumps herself. In shock at the fact she’s intersex, but also the pure size of her.

She’s huge.

“Well is the deal still on or what?” Natasha walks closer. Licking her lips as she stares at me.

“No it’s still on” You pause. “It’s still on.” You lift your skit higher. “Hurry up” You groan, wanting to get this over with.. but also wanting to feel her inside of you.

She gets closer, lifting your skirt so she can see, before rubbing her tip on your clit. “Patience is key, sweetheart”

You moan lowly, gently arching your back as she rubs your clit with herself. “Not when it comes to sex.” You correct her.

“Mmm” Natasha groans. “Your right.” She continues, entering you fully without another word. She groans deeply as she bottoms out. “Fuck, your so warm.”

Your back arches, pushing yourself into her before you let out a deep moan. “Fuck! I… I wasn’t ready!” You hiss in pain, gripping onto her hair.

“Does it look like I care?” She grips your chin so that you look at her. Slowly thrusting in and out. “You feel so fuckin’ good, princess” She moans out, moving in to suck your neck.

“Mmm god!” You moan as she speeds up. “Your too big. Fuck! ‘s too big, natty!” You whine out trying to push away from her.

“Shh shh, you’ll get used to it.” She puts your hands behind your back. “Your pussy just isn’t used to a cock as big and perfect as mine. Just take it, baby. You’ll be fine” She moans as she rubs your clit, feeling how wet you am.

“Fuck!” You whine out. Rutting my clit into her hand. “It hurts, but it feels so so good” You roll your eyes back, your mouth open as you let out silent pain mixed with pleasured moans.

“There you go, princess. Your adjusting.” She stares at you, still rubbing your clit. “You look so pretty ‘round my cock, baby” She thrusts faster.

“I’m never gunna wanna let you go” She grunts. “Gunna fill you up, gunna make you mine. ‘M gunna make you a mommy, princessa” She nips at your neck.

“Mmm, nat!” You moan loudly, your legs twitching. “Fuck fuck” Rolling your eyes back, you reach your hand to hers on your clit, moving it faster before whining out in pleasure.

“Right there, ughhh fuck yes!” You rut into her hand. Meeting her thrusts.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so fuckin’ good” Natasha whines. “This pussys takin’ me so well!” She continues.

“You fill me perfectly.” You moan out. “Mmm, ‘s so fucking perfect” You wrap a leg around her, before pulling her hair. “God! I’m gunna cum Nat, fuck ‘m gunna cum for you” You whine out, your legs shaking.

Natasha is about to talk when she hears locker opening, immediately covering your mouth as she slows her thrust, but still rubs your clit. “Theres someone out there” She smirks.

Your eyes widen as you hear the locker sound as well. Trying to push her off.

“Hey, no, no I’m not done here” She starts to thrust fast again.

“Natasha no!” You whine out desperately. “I’m not a quiet climaxer, Please!” You roll your eyes as she once again pounds into you.

“Shh..Just take it, baby, they won’t hear you” She moans into your ear. Feeling your walls squeeze her.

“Please, they’ll hear! We’ll get caught, we’ll be in trouble-” She cuts you off before you can finish talking.

“Just, shut the fuck up and take me like a good girl!” Natasha’s ruts into you. “You’re such a bitch. You tell me I make you feel good but gets scared when a person might hear you. Who fucking cares. Let them know how much of a slut you’re being right now for me!” She slaps your clit.

You arch your back in pain, rolling your eyes back. “Fuck, I’m serious nat!” You moan out as she covers your mouth. Thrusting into you at a rapid pase.

“I’ve gotta cum soon… Either you cum with me, or I leave you hanging” Natasha threatens. “Don’t be a pussy, I’m already handling enough of that” She groans deeply, rubbing your clit, before pulling back and looking at you.

“You gunna cum or not, princess?” She moans out, looking you in your eyes. She uncovers your mouth when she sees your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Ugh!” You whine. “Fuck.. yes, I’m gunna cum with you, please. I won’t be a pussy” You moan out. Arching your back as your climax is near.

“Good girl. Don’t hold back, pretty girl. Let me hear you” She slaps your clit again. Before thrusting into you deeply again.

“Are you on birth control?” She questions, barley getting the question out before she lets a couple drops of pre-cum in you.

“Yes.. I-I am” You tell her. “Please, you can cum in me!” You slightly beg her. Your knees bending a bit at the thought of it.

“Mm good girl. That’s what I like to hear.” Natasha slaps your ass before she pulls your head back by my hair. “Cum, with me princess.. now!” She moans deeply as she cums.

You finish with her, your mixed arousal dripping onto the floor. “Mmm fuck fuck!!” You yell out in a moan, grinding onto her to keep the pleasure going.

“Fuck, baby!” She groans, pulling out. “What a waste” She looks down at the floor, a puddle of cum laying there.

“Was it really?” You smirk at her. Fixing your outfit before grabbing a couple paper towels from the shelve and wiping it up.

“I guess not.” She slaps my ass before fixing her clothes. “Are we gunna do this everytime you make me do your work?” She pulls you into her.

“Well, I mean…I suppose we could… or we could just do it any time.” You look at her. “If that’s something you’d want?”

She smiles at you before kissing you for the first time. “That is definitely something I’d want.”

You chuckle at her as she slips her tongue into you mouth. “Hey, buster. We are still in school!” You tap her cheek. Pushing her away.

“I just made you scream and cum, I don’t think a kiss is gunna kill anyone.” Natasha points to the floor.

“Yeah yeah, let’s get out of here. It’s hot!” You fan your face.

“It is isn’t it” Natasha stares at you.

“Shhh” You shush her. Opening the door to see the principle and the coach, on the other side of the door.

Busted…

[nats-bottom]

NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.

[nats-bottom]

A month or longer…

BUT NO AI

it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.

it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.

it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.

it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.

it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.

IT MAY TAKE ME A MONTH TO PUT OUT A CHAPTER BUT AT LEAST IM NOT USING AI TO WRITE IT

[nats-bottom]

Mostly I wanted to say I LOVE your fanfics on Nastasha/Reader ❤️ is there anyway we could get a hurt/comfort of them? I love the Oversight series but I don’t want to burn you out on it 😊

Title: Catalyst [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Old memories come rushing back when nightmares and reality collide. Natasha is there to ground you in spite of it all.

Warnings: blood, gun use, parental abuse, drowning, night terrors, mentions of death, cannon-typical violence, horrible grammar (I don't proofread)

[a/n: Totally not my best work again, I am coasting through life on that dissociative train right now. But, I wanted to get something out there and this is classic hurt/ comfort. Enjoy, or don't! I have no clue anymore. These will get better when finals week is done.]

Check out the full Oversight universe

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

The dark green of his uniform stood out against the fresh snow on the ground, but was meant to make Sheriff Edwards blend into the backdrop of the trees that lined the property. His jacket was saturated with the stale scent of cigarettes and burnt office coffee. You could taste it on your tongue, the bitter of him.

You folded into yourself, running your palms over the paled skin of your arms. Sheriff Edwards let you grab your shoes before pulling you from the warm cocoon of your bed. It was better than last week, and the week before that. You clenched your jaw to keep it from chattering. To keep any noise from reaching his ears as he chewed on a toothpick to fray the end.

His breath puffed around it like a dragon as he reloaded his gun. The warm weight of it in your palm was familiar. You unstuck your other arm from where it was lodged against your stomach. He wrenched your shoulders, jerked them until they were squared with the fence just the way he liked them.

“Go on.”

Your movements were shaky, inhibited by the cold. Even from the length of your arms you could see that the tip of the gun was dipping a little too low to hit anything. It jerked too hard and the initial blast stung against your palms.

Sheriff Edwards unnatural warm hand came down hard on your cheek. It was numb enough from the cold to not sting, not truly. You whimpered, adjusting your stance. Taking another shot. This time the bullet hit the side of the can with a clink, but didn’t knock it over.

Still, your hands shook uncontrollably as you glanced at him, nerves taut. He didn’t budge. Huffed, even. You shot again. Missed again, the mouth of the gun smoking with heat, leaking a steady stream.

Sheriff Edwards tsked and kicked the back of your knee, electing a yelp from deep within your chest. It was juvenile and weak. The cold soaked into your pajama pants along with the harsh sting. You clenched your eyes shut, snot dripping onto your top lip.

“You’re pathetic.” The voice wasn’t his. It was pitched; it was feminine. It made your eyes shoot open and head whip up to its source. “Can’t even hit a few measly cans.”

You were a severe disadvantage, already on your knees and staring up at Carol Danvers. The gun wasn’t in your hands and was in hers instead, aimed directly between your eyebrows. A devilish snarl on her lips.

“I thought they called you Roulette but I’m watching you piss your pants in the snow.”

“Shut the fuck up”

“Oh, she does have bite. How often does Natasha let you off your leash?”

Carol cackled. It bubbled in her throat and crackled in her lungs. Black blood dribbled past her lips and down her chin in a syrupy mess. When it soaked into her collar it dried instantly in the cold air of the night. She wiped it away sloppily with the sleeve of her shirt.

She flipped the gun around, offering the handle to you. “Want to try again? There’s only one bullet left in the chamber. Two cans. You’re bound to hit one. Even if you are a shit shot.”

“No.” You grit out, shoulders slumping “I don’t like to shoot.”

“Oh, come on. You don’t like your odds?”

“Never did.”

She coughed again, pulled the edge of her jacket back and glanced down at the growing red spot in her cotton blend shirt. The hole you’d put through her abdomen. If you stared too hard, you’d see straight through her to the other side, through the flesh and muscle and viscera. It made your own stomach churn.

Carol shrugged her shoulders, “Suit yourself.” She flipped the gun in her hand smoothly, turning it back on you before pulling the trigger. The shot echoed through the air with a loud, deafening pop.

An inhale of cold breath dampened the impact, pulled you into a darkness that was inky and all-consuming. You couldn’t catch your breath; it was too slippery and finicky. It was slipping through your fingers.

Something cold, something incredibly freezing, that wasn’t akin to snow washed over you. Silk sheets that your heels dug into as you slid impossibly over your own feet in the dark. Your heart was pounding so heavily in your chest you figured it might just crawl from your very throat and fill your mouth with the black of blood.

It didn’t take long for you to stir Natasha. You’d possibly done so with your tossing and turning before the sharp inhale, the impossible whimper of an exhale. Your back was against the headboard, eyes flitting around the darkness as if Carol Danvers would materialize within a moment.

She was here. She had to be here. Her clove scent clung to your lungs, and before that it was the lingering flat spice of Deputy Sheriff Edwards as he beat his instructions into you. How to aim, how to function past the bitter cold. It was so fucking cold.

Under the pillow was a gun, one that brought you a second of solace instead of fear. Just for a moment as you aimed at forward, eyes scanning the darkness of the room. The curtains moved and your eyes were hazy and that scent was strong. Everything felt different and wrong.

Then a soft touch against your cheek, and something eating away at the clove and smoke. It was rosewater. Your wife’s perfume. Her sleep-warmed hand turning your head to the side. Even in the dark you could make out her viridescent eyes. Natasha, with her expert skill, worked the loaded gun from your hand and moved it to her beside table all the same.

“ey, ey, rasslab'sya, devochka” sleep clung to Natasha’s words as a numbness washed over you.

Of course it had been a dream, it was foolish to think otherwise. Sheriff Deputy Edwards had been dead since you were a child, and you’d put a bullet in Carol Danvers yourself. The guilt seeped into your bones and neither of them manifested within the corners of your satin bedroom now. Though, the dryness in your throat did not reflect that rationality of your thoughts.

Natasha looped her arms around you and pulled you into her lap. A whimper escaped you, so sad and low that it cracked into Natasha’s chest as she wrapped her arms around your center and held you close, her back against the headboard.

Her cheek was slotted against your own, thumbs finding the skin on your hips where your t-shirt had raised up. It was grounding, soothing. She whispered words of solace in your ear and squeezed you with enough pressure to remind you of where you were. Your eyes were clenched shut, cheeks damp and nose stuffed.

“dorogoy, deep breaths. I can still feel your heartbeat trying to escape your chest.” She murmured hoarsely, squeezing your side. “Can you name five things that you see?”

You let your head loll back onto her shoulder, a giggle falling past your lips. “Nat, it’s dark in here.”

“I read online somewhere that would work.” You could feel her laugh against your back, the rumble satisfying. “Didn’t think it through, but it kind of worked.”

You grunted tiredly and sat back further into her embrace, let her tighten her arms around you and nuzzle closer until all you pick up on was that floral scent. It filled your lungs, wrapped around you, took away any lingering sense of unease.

“Chto sluchilos'?”

You turned slightly, hand coming up to play with the simple gold chain that hung around her neck. She didn’t push you. You counted the steady beat of her heart. The quiet push and pull of her breath.

Just below the edge of the necklace was a scar you’d seen more times than you could count. Right where the hot lead of the bullet Carol had fired at Natasha had exited. A cheap shot through her back. It ripped through flesh and missed everything important by sheer chance. You’d asked her one day if she could feel anything there, and she had lamely shook her head, sadness etched on her features. You kissed there anyway, whenever you got the chance.

“My foster father, Sheriff Edwards.”

You swallowed the dryness again, turned your cheek into Natasha’s chest. Her jaw clenched. You didn’t mention him often, but enough for her to despise the man. To want to put him six feet under if your foster brother hadn’t already done so.  

“I have this dream where he’s teaching me to shoot again, and lately, ever since that night on the docks, he turns into Carol.” You huffed, glancing up at her, almost in frustration as she peered down at you tenderly. “Which is stupid. It’s all stupid mind games, a culmination of stress. That’s what dreams are.”

“Mm, most culminations don’t result in pulling a gun.”

“Yeah,” You sighed, sneaking your hand past the collar of her shirt, splaying it against the heat of her skin, trying to steal as much as you could. “They don’t.”

Natasha laid her hand over your own, wedding ring cool against your skin. She didn’t admonish you, eyes shifting to the piece that rested on her bedside table. She had another one in her own drawer and would most likely be keeping yours next to it for a couple of nights until things calmed down, just to make sure a pattern didn’t’ form.

“I dream about her too. Breaking the cardinal rule, entering your home. Eta suka. You never cross that line. But she did, and in those dreams, those nightmares, you don’t come to the estate. I get a phone call from the police.” She sighed, screwed her eyes shut and dropped her forehead to your own. “You don’t cross that line.”

You hadn’t known about the nightmares, that she’d been suffering silently. Your heart clenched and your stomach roiled at the thought of her swimming in the silk sheets next to you until the sickly pale light washed over you both and the day began.

Natasha’s arms reinforced her hold, her nose nuzzling under your ear as if to breathe in your own scent to ground herself. “I don’t know what kind of person I’d become if anything took you and Ronnie away from me. All I’d see, all I’d feel, is red.”

She trembled with something akin to phantom rage. Even in the dark you could see the moisture collecting in the corners of her eyes, creating damp tracks down her cheeks. You reached up blindly and wiped them away.

“Darling, it makes sense that you dream of her, she’s your catalyst.”

Natasha took your fingers gently, damp and warm from her tears. She kissed the tips of them and held them in her grasp.

“My catalyst?”

“The choice that changed it all. Your foster father may have taught you how to fire a gun, but you didn’t have to truly use it until that day on the docks.” She moved her lips to your palm, the sensitive, warm area at your wrist. “it kills me every day that you had to pick that gun back up because of me.”

“That was because of her.” you assured briskly, without hesitation, there was none to be had. “She’s the coward that shot you in the back, and I would never take what I did back. Nightmares be damned.”

Natasha let out a breathy sigh, pressing her forehead against your own. “I hate seeing you in pain, malysh.”

“Oh, Nat. It doesn’t matter. Every single time I wake up like this, trembling and scared, it’s been next to you. You pull me out of it every time, and I’ll do the same.” You could feel her heartrate pick up under the palm of your other hand, the heat of her skin. “We don’t hide from each other. So that means, if you’re having a nightmare you wake me up.”

“When did this turn into me getting scolded? I was comforting you.”

You scoffed sleepily, nipping at her bottom lip. “We can be there for each other.”

Natasha let out a noise that was a groan and content sigh all at once. It moved through her body in a way that you could feel across every inch of yourself. You made no effort to move back to your side of the bed and Natasha made no effort to move you past lowering your head to her chest, the beat of her heart sharp in your ear. Soothing.

“Sleep, milyy”

“Are you ever going to give me my piece back?” You grumbled into the fabric of her shirt.

“Mm,” She hummed, running her fingers through your hair “that’s a conversation for awake us.”

“I’m awake,”

Natasha must have said something else, but it fell upon deaf ears. You were curled around her, breathing softly. The scent of gun oil, metal, and the freezing bite of snow long forgotten.

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]

[nats-bottom]

Dialogue Masterpost

Dialogue prompts are my favourite kind. So little context, so much creative space to have fun with. So here is a my masterpost full of dialogue prompts.

Romantic Dialogue

Flirting Prompts - Oblivious and flirty

Teasing Prompts

More Teasing Prompts

Romance Dialogue - Bubbly + Reserved

Dramatic/Break-up Dialogue Prompts

More Break-up Dialogue Prompts

One-sided affections dialogue

Unwanted Attention Prompts

Unrequited Love Prompts

Push and pull romantic prompts

Jealousy Prompts

heartbreaking.

First Kiss Prompts

Things said during sex Prompts

Awkward Post-Sex Dialogue

Smutty Dialogue (Masterpost)

One-Liners Dialogue - Romantic, Smutty + Physical (Masterpost)

Romance Dialogue Prompts – Uncomfortable with affection

Grumpy Affectionate Dialogue

Grumpy + Sunshine Dialogue

Inexperienced with romance Prompts

Love Confessions (Masterpost)

Romantic Date Dialogue Prompts

Asking out on a date

Anniversary Dinner Dialogue

Secret Relationship Dialogue

How to write Enemies to Lovers + Dialogue Prompts

Oblivious Enemies to Lovers Prompts

Enemies to Lovers: Apocalypse AU

Exes to lovers dialogue

Friends to lovers Dialogue

Best friends to lovers Dialogue

Childhood friends to enemies to lovers Dialogue

Enemies to friends with benefits Prompts

Enemies to friends Prompts

Fluffy

Fluffy Dialogue Prompts Part I

Fluffy Dialogue Prompts Part II

Fluffy Sentence Starters

One Hundred Compliments

Shy Compliments

Hidden Pregnancy Dialogue

Sleepy Starters

Cooking/Baking Dialogue Prompts

Friends and Family

Silly Drunk Dialogue

Bar Conversation Starters

Rekindling Friendship Dialogue

Not Wanting to Rekindle Friendship Dialogue

Reconnecting Friends Prompts

Supernatural/Crime/Co.

Hero x Villain - Snarky Dialogue

Hero + Villain Dialogue

Angst Villain Dialogue

Supervillain Roommates

Life & Death Prompts + Dialogue

Demons Dialogue

Angel/Demon Dialogue

Angel/Human Dialogue

Human/Ghost Dialogue Prompts

Assassins Banter Dialogue

Showing aliens the human world

FBI mentor and mentee prompts

Heist Prompts

Hurt/Comfort and Angst

Hurt/Comfort Dialogue Prompts

Angsty Dialogue (Masterpost)

AUs

Bodyguard Dialogue Prompts

Patient and Doctor Prompts

Neighbors to Lovers Dialogue

Coffee Shop Prompts

Matchmaking at Work Prompts

Royalty Dialogue

Princess x Loyal Companion

Prince/ss x Commoner

Princess x Guard

Arranged Marriage Dialogue

Royal Arranged Marriage Dialogue Prompts

Royalty Forced Married to Actual Lovers Prompts

Royal x Royal Ball Dancing

Grad Students Prompts

High School Popular Kid + Outcast Dialogue

More

Dialogue Responses Masterlist

Drabble Prompts Masterlist

Three Word Sentences

Four Word Sentences

Five Word Sentences

Six Word Sentences

short & impactful

powerful.

"I can't…"

Reactions to… (Masterpost)

Asking for permission

Random Questions Prompts

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! 🥰

[nats-bottom]

Prompt #1178

"Can I walk with you? I would feel better knowing that you got home safely."

[nats-bottom]

Bruises

WandaNat x Reader

Just a short snippet written on a long drive home. (I’m currently covered in bruises after a very fun climbing trip, and it got me thinking about waking up with some more intimate injuries…)

-----------------⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅-----------------

You wake up wedged between them, with Natasha nestled up behind you, and your head nuzzled into Wanda’s chest. Your vest top has ridden up in the night — or perhaps been lifted, since Natasha’s fingers are lying on the skin of your stomach. One of Wanda’s hands is resting around your hip, slightly curled into the waistband of your underwear.

You feel warm and safe snuggled up here, with one fist beneath your chin and the fingers of your other hand clinging to Wanda’s slip. Pressed between the bodies of your two favourite people, your muscles heavy and content, filled with a lingering ache from last night. Wanda and Natasha are still on either side of you, so you assume they’re both still sleeping. But when you shift your feet slightly, Natasha hums behind you.

“Good morning, malyshka,” she whispers in your ear, before kissing the back of your head. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mm-hm,” you murmur affirmatively. You wriggle around, slow so as not to wake Wanda, and turn to face Natasha. She presses her forehead against yours, then tilts her head to kiss your lips. “Actually, I think that was the best sleep I’ve had in a while.”

Natasha grins.

“I’m glad. You needed a good sleep; you’ve been working so hard lately, my little dove.” She brushes your hair out your eyes, and you reach to do the same to her, wanting to feel her soft curls between your fingers. Natasha frowns, and intercepts your hands on their way to her. “Malyshka…”

You follow her gaze to your wrists, where there is a reddish tinge to the skin.

“Oh,” you breathe, considering the bruises with interest.

“Do they hurt?” Natasha asks, looking worried as she inspects the damage. You shrug.

“Not really. I just bruise easily, I guess.”

Natasha presses a gentle kiss to each wrist.

“I’m sorry, little dove. Maybe we need to be more careful next time.”

“No,” you whisper, wriggling forward and kissing her lips. “It was perfect. I don’t mind having a couple of bruises.” You hesitate, ducking your gaze as the truth bubbles in your chest. “In fact,” you admit quietly, glancing between your wrists and Natasha’s avid eyes, “I kind of like it.”

Natasha smirks, and presses her lips to yours again, giving you a brief but heated kiss.

“My little masochist. Noted.”

-----------------⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅-----------------

[nats-bottom]

hi! i'm trying to write a roommate strangers-to-lovers story but i'm having a hard time coming up with moments when the characters can spend time together (not on purpose) and somehow fall in love bc of th. i was wondering if you have any ideas to help. thank you!

Hi :)

Here are some roommate prompts I just posted.

And here are some moments, where they can casually spend time together:

Roommates to lovers - Spending time together

cooking at the same time, having to move around each other

having to meet up with the landlord you both dislike

seeing the other play a game and getting asked to join in

having to do some errands for the apartment that you have to do together

getting asked by the roommate’s friends to help throw a surprise party in your shared apartment

trying to not hit anything or each other, when there is a power outage and it’s way too dark

cleaning the apartment together and making a dance party out of it

helping the roommate with a clingy date who just doesn’t want to leave

realizing the other one is sick and bringing them tea and some food

painting the hallway together 

doing laundry together or bringing it to a laundromat and waiting together

helping the roommate out by hiding some stuff their parents shouldn’t see, when they come by unannouncedthere is a defective smoke detector in the building and you have to leave the house until the fire department as cleared going back in as save

decorating the apartment together for a party or a holiday

making too much food and inviting the roommate to share it

one roommate locked themself out and now has to go to the other’s work place to get the key

Those are all casual moments and situations that over time they can build a good and reliant relationship on.

Hope you enjoy them!

- Jana

[nats-bottom]

[nats-bottom]

Y/N: *nervous* Natasha, there's something I need to ask you-

Natasha: Finally! You're proposing!

Y/N: How did you know?

Natasha: Y/N, love, you dropped the ring five times during dinner.

Natasha: I even picked it up once

[nats-bottom]

How to write emotions

How to write emotional scenes

How to show emotions Part I

How to show emotions Part II

How to show emotions Part III

How to show emotions Part IV

How to show emotions Part V

How to show emotions Part VI

How to show emotions Part VII

How to show emotions Part VIII

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

[nats-bottom]

Doctor's In - Part 10

Summary: As you grow closer to Natasha and struggle with your family past, Wanda begins to doubt your relationship.

A/N: Aaah, I think this is very long. I threw in some fluff as an apology. But remember, not everything is black and white. Also, don't hate me, I just like where this is going.

------

Natasha: You missed the inferior venacava

Y/N: Come on, it’s elementary school. Not like the teacher’s gonna notice.

Natasha: Fine, but you’re getting a B- from me.

Y/N: Professor Romanoff, you’re too strict.

As the kids enter the dining room, you put your phone down.

“Where’s Mom?” you ask them, and they turn to look at each other.

“She was arguing with uncle Pietro”

“I’m sure it’s fine” you say, placing the food in front of them. “Let’s eat and practise your presentation for Biology”

“Ok” Billy agrees.

For a little while, everything seems normal until Wanda walks in, looking ready to kill someone.

“It’s absolutely useless speaking to him” she says, walking past you and into the kitchen. You follow her, leaning against the wall.

“What’s wrong?”

“He wants to go back to snowboarding. Risking his life for what? Some likes on instagram and sponsorships? You almost died trying to save him and here I am busting my ass cleaning after him. And he wants to die”

“Why don’t I talk to him? You try to calm down and eat something. The kids were worried about you”

“I’m not hungry” she shakes her head, but accepts your hug, leaning her head against your shoulder.

“Just try, for me?”

“Ok” she nods, kissing your cheek. You smile, and take your dinner out in the backyard, where Pietro is throwing a ball for Sparky.

“My answer’s still no” he says when you drag a chair and sit next to him.

“I didn’t say anything” you shrug your shoulders, offering Sparky a piece of your chicken. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m not quitting sports”

“Ok, that’s fine.”

“It’s gonna be fine. What happened that day was a freak accident. Lighting doesn’t strike twice”

“I mean, I guess. Except it absolutely can happen again. Listen, if this is your life calling and everything, I get it. Just try to understand your sister. What would you feel like if the roles were reversed? If she got seriously hurt”

“What would you do if you couldn’t perform surgery again?”

“I’d go insane” you admit. “I’m not telling you to quit. I’m just telling you to understand Wanda’s point of view. Plus, you still need to start physical therapy.”

You sit in silence for a while, eating and looking at the sky.

“I’m hungry” Pietro admits, and you laugh.

“Come on, let’s get you some food”

As Wanda prepares his dinner, you take the kids upstairs. They ask you a couple of questions about the model of the heart you helped them build with clay until they’re both yawning.

“Sleep now, boys” you close the door, watching with a smile as they’re already snoring.

Wanda is still cleaning the kitchen when you join her, and she smiles at you.

“Thank you. He’s being less stubborn now. Wants to start therapy next week”

“My pleasure. I’ll finish cleaning, go to bed” you say, kissing her temple. She squeezes your arm in thanks, but turns around as she remembers.

“Could you take out the trash?”

“Huh? Yes. I’ll do it, no worries” you answer absentmindedly, looking at your phone.

You spend a lot of time on your phone lately, Wanda thinks.

After cleaning up, you sit and practise for your own test tomorrow. Natasha told you they’ll begin to implement her mother’s technique at the hospital and you want to scrub in.

For that, you need a bunch of grapes and a sowing kit. Everytime you finish a set of stitches, you send a picture to Nat and wait for her feedback.

Nat: That one’s perfect.

You smile at that, proud of your work. You’re so busy texting back that you don’t hear Wanda come in.

“Did you take out the trash?”

“Oh, crap. Let me do that right now” you put your phone down and remove your gloves.

“Who are you talking to?”

“What?”

“I’ve been waiting for an hour for you to come to bed, and it seems like you’d rather be texting. Is it her?” Wanda says, clearly upset.

“Wanda, come on. I was practising to scrub in this week. It would be a pretty big deal if they pick me to be in the surgery”

“Please, it’s so obvious that woman will let you in just because she has a thing for you” Wanda scoffs.

“Oh, so you’re saying I can’t get in because of my skills?”

“That’s not even… you know what? Don’t come to bed”

“What?” you turn to look at her, frowning.

“You can sleep on the couch” she says, leaving the kitchen without looking back at you.

Un-fucking-believable.

Fine, whatever. You’ll sleep on the fucking couch.

You clean up your mess and finally take out the trash, going to your car for a cigarrette and a lighter.

As you sit in the porch, another text comes from Natasha.

You decide it’s faster to call her.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” she jokes.

“Nah, I was kicked out of the bedroom”

“What did you do?” Natasha asks, clearly amused.

“Why do you assume it was me who did something?” you want to sound offended, but after a beat of silence, you admit the truth. Or part of it. “I forgot to take out the trash”

“That’s not so bad”

“I guess not. But whatever, I’ll manage for tonight. Got a doble shift ahead of me tomorrow”

“Sorry, if I was there I’d be more than happy to take you in” she says in a low voice and you don’t know exactly what to say to that.

“When do you get here, by the way?”

“My flight lands at seven thirty”

“Want me to pick you up? We can have breakfast and then go to the hospital” you offer, feeling better at the prospect of having plans to catch up with Natasha.

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you”

“Not at all, I’m happy to play the part of private driver”

“Will you hold a sign with my name like they do in the movies?”

“I’ll try” you laugh, looking behind you. “Alright, I’ll go get some sleep. Night, Nat”

“Night, Y/N”

Pulling out a blanket and a cushion, you lay down, sighing and trying to get comfortable. A few minutes later, you can hear Wanda going out of her study, and you stay still, hoping she won’t come looking for you.

Truth is, you don’t want to talk to her right now either.

Not after she kicked you out of the room for something so insignificant.

So, you close your eyes and try to let go of the hurt.

Tomorrow will be better.

—

Next morning, you get up at break of dawn to get changed and pack your bag for the next 48 hours. Honestly? You’re happy to be at the hospital for two days.

“Want some breakfast before you leave?” Wanda offers when you walk in to get changed, and by the looks of it, she didn’t get much sleep last night.

“I’m fine” is all you say, looking for your scrubs and your phone charger.

“Y/N” she calls as you’re about to leave. You turn to look at her reluctantly, eager to just walk out of the room. “Have a nice day”

“You too” you say, without any emotion, going down the stairs and straight to your car.

The ride to the airport lets you clear your head, and you feel a lot more relaxed when you go down to wait for Natasha.

It’s not long before you spot her, walking out and looking flawless.

“My apologies in advance” is all she says as you approach her, and you look confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Natalia, wait for me! You’re always in such a hurry” a blonde woman, younger and shorter than Natasha comes right behind her, carrying three very big suitcases. “Are you our Uber?”

“Yelena!” Natasha scolds, switching to Russian. “I’m sorry, my sister has no manners”

“Hey, no worries, it’s not the first time I’ve had siblings fighting in a foreign language” you smile, introducing yourself to Yelena.

“Nice to meet you. Thank you for picking us up”

“Are you staying for the whole month?” you comment, struggling with Yelena’s bags.

“Yes, my mother arranged for me to spend some time learning at Stark’s Hospital. I want to be a Trauma surgeon and Natasha said they have the best one she’s ever met”

“Did she say that now?” you laugh, as Natasha blushes and gets inside the car.

“Why? Do you know them?” Yelena sits on the back seat, unlocking her phone to find the address of her new place.

“Yeah, they’re ok I guess” you joke, making Natasha roll her eyes.

“It’s Y/N, you dumbass” Natasha clarifies, which makes Yelena groan and curse in Russian.

“Hey! That means bitch” you recognise it.

“How do you know it?” Yelena asks.

“My girlfriend and her brother are always saying it to each other. Living together has regressed them to their teenage years” you lament, trying not to think about them.

Yelena is restless in the backseat, asking you to change the music until you give up and hand over your phone so she can play whatever she likes.

“Have any siblings?” Natasha says, massaging her temples.

“Two half siblings but I don’t really speak to them”

“Lucky”

“Natalia, that is so rude” Yelena mutters, singing along to American Pie. “I’m hungry, can we get food before going to the apartment?”

“We’re having breakfast and then going to the hospital. That’s what grown ups do, they work even if they had to fly in the middle of the night”

“Fiiiine”

As you park, Yelena jumps out, because she wants to sit on the second floor with a view to the promenade. You wait for Natasha, and walk inside with her to the restaurant.

“So, I take it I have a new student?”

“I’m so sorry. Fury was supposed to ask you first but she’s just so damn impulsive. Please don’t feel like you have to help her in any way”

“It’s fine. I’m guessing your mother’s behind it? I don’t want you to get in any trouble. And Kate could use some friendly competition”

“I really appreciate it” Natasha smiles, and you both sit while Yelena looks out the balcony, taking pictures of the sunrise.

Yelena asks you questions about your background and work experience. You think it’s just curiosity as she’s starting her residency soon, but Natasha can tell Yelena is doing a job interview in her own sneaky way. She’s always so outgoing and charming that people have a hard time believing she can be a little shit.

“Have you ever been to Boston?” the younger woman asks and you shrug your shoulders.

“No, never been”

“You’d love it, it’s so pretty, and our hospital has one of the best Trauma centers in the country. Of course, the issue is finding the right person to run it, right Natasha?”

“I guess”

“Oh, I didn’t know you had an opening” you comment for the sake of conversation.

“Well, yes, actually. Didn’t Natasha tell you? We’re actively looking for someone” Yelena says as if it’s such a big coincidence. “You wouldn’t happen to be interested in it?”

“Sorry to say, my girlfriend would not want to move to Boston. But if I know of someone I’ll send them your way. Who was your former head of department?”

“Rumlow. You know him?” Natasha says, wishing she didn’t. He was a pretentious ass.

“Yeah, he’s an asshole. We studied together and only one of us got to go to work at John Hopkins. Spoiler alert, it wasn’t him” you brag, making Natasha smile.

“Tell me more about your girlfriend” Yelena asks, which makes Natasha flinch.

“Don’t”

“I’m just being polite” she lies, and you have a feeling it is better to change the subject. So, you ask for the check, paying for the three of you and then driving to the hospital.

“I have to get ready for the next session. Behave” Natasha says, and then turns to you. “If she’s being bad, you have my authorization to kick her ass”

“Duly noted” you wink at Nat, walking towards the ER, where Kate is already waiting with some charts for your rounds. “Morning, Doctor Bishop. This is Doctor Romanoff…”

“Belova. I go by Belova” Yelena corrects you and you nod.

“Oh, that will make it less confusing. She’s gonna be working with us for a bit. If you could teach her some of the basics of our ER I’d appreciate it”

“Oh… ok” Kate looks between you two, and then walks behind you. “Sorry, am I getting kicked out as your resident? Did I do something wrong?”

“Not at all. Yelena is here to learn, as are you. There’s enough to do for everyone, right?”

You keep an eye on their interactions, noticing how Kate is a lot more uptight in the  way she keeps the ER than Yelena. The blonde moves around the hospital like she’s been there her entire life and it doesn’t come off as pretentious, but as second nature. Her mother probably always dragged her daughters along while she worked.

But, by the time there’s an ambulance coming along, you see her go into professional mode, talking to the paramedics.

“Male, forties. Fell off a ladder, was conscious but had a seizure and BP dropped” Drax says, and you move the patient to a gurney.

“Bishop? Belova?” you question them as the patient has another seizure.

“I’d administer lorazepam and rule out skull fraction and hemorrhage” Yelena says, and you nod.

“Very well. He’s your patient now” you nod. “Once you get the results, page me and Neuro”

Kate looks a little hurt at that, and you sigh, watching as Yelena stabilizes the man and coordinates with Barnes.

“She’s just here for a little while. And you need to be on your toes. ER is all about speed, Kate. Don’t sweat it”

“Yes, Doctor Y/L/N”

You pat her shoulder, going to check Natasha’s class. It’s already started and you know the exercises as she gave you an overview before anyone else. So you lean on the door, watching as everyone practises the sutures.

“Care to join us?” Natasha says and you shrug your shoulders.

“I’m on duty. Looks like your sister got her first surgery”

“So soon? Who did she piss off to get it?”

“Just my resident. That’s ok, though, I’m sure next surgery will be Kate’s” you look at Darcy, giving her an excited thumbs up when she shows you her sutures.

“Speaking of which, Fury has told me he wants Bishop and your friend Lewis in the first surgery” Natasha says and you nod, trying to hide your disappointment. “I’m really sorry, I wanted it to be you, but he’s doing us a favor with Yelena and we have to give something in return”

“I get it. There’s always a next one, right? Plus, I’m happy for Darcy, she’s an excellent surgeon and I’m sure she’ll do great” you smile at your friend. In that moment, your pager goes off and you sigh. “Gotta get back to it. See you around, Nat”

“Wait” she leaves the skills lab, following you into the hallway. Her hand rests on your wrist and you turn around.

“What’s wrong?” you say when you catch the frown on her face.

“I’m sorry, for giving you extra work with Yelena. I didn’t think… I was just saying you’re a great surgeon. If I had known my mother would do this I…”

“Nat, come on” you squeeze her hand, stepping closer. “It’s no bother at all. I’m happy to teach her whatever I can until your mother finds someone else back in Boston”

“You’re too kind. I might owe you a nice dinner after all of this” she smiles, noticing you haven’t let go of her hand.

“I’ll hold you to that” without thinking, your hand travels to her elbow and you give her a light squeeze. “I really have to go now” you say when you’re paged again. “Good luck with the surgery tomorrow”

“Thanks”

You smile back at her as you leave for the ER, finding Kate in the middle of chaos, with an accident involving three people.

“See? You got yourself at least two surgeries” you smile at her, overseeing the work. Kamala is already there, helping Kate with everything she needs.

“Heard there’s someone new” she whispers to the brunette as they stabilize a patient.

“Yeah, she’s the youngest Romanoff. I’m now competing with medical royalty for the best cases” Kate huffs, but shuts up when she catches you staring.

“She could be the Princess of Genovia and I’d still make her work for it, Bishop”

“What’s Genovia?” Kamala asks, confused.

“You’re so young” you sigh, feeling like the crypt keeper all of a sudden. “Take them to imaging and page me when you speak to Carol. I have to check on Yelena”

When you scrub in, you find that Yelena has made her way next to Tony, pushing Peter to the back of the room. It seems like she has a real talent for getting what she wants without most people noticing.

“Doctor Y/L/N, nice of you to join us. I thought you’d be with the rest of sycophants at Romanoff’s masterclass” Tony greets you bitterly.

“Doctor Stark” you try to tell him that another Romanoff is holding the suction tube, but he keeps ranting.

“Honestly, I can’t wait for this stupid training to be over. We have to pretend that we’re impressed by this, really? Stark Hospital is one of the top teaching hospitals in the continent. I’ve had applications from Yemen to study with me. I think it’s time we show the Romanoffs what it looks like to be at the forefront of innovation”

“Tony, I really don’t think we should…”

“Ugh, I get it. Natasha is your type. Redhead, green eyes, you have a crush. But honestly, I’ve known her for so long and I can tell you, she can be real phony”

“Honestly, Tony, just shut your mouth” you plead, mortified at everything Yelena just heard.

The blonde looks at you, but she seems amused.

“I agree with Doctor Stark” she says. “Natasha can be annoying. But then again, she’s my sister”

You could hear a pin drop after those words. Tony looks at you and you shrug your shoulders. It’s not like you didn’t try to warn him.

“More suction, please” is all he says, and Yelena leans forward.

“Is that ok, Doctor Stark?”

“Yeah. Peachy”

—

48 hours and six surgeries later, you feel completely beaten and ready to pass out.

The worst part is that you don’t even know if you’re gonna get some decent sleep when you get back home. Wanda texted you a couple of times, and you tried really hard to act normal, but all you want is an apology for the way she acted.

Unfortunately for those who knew you, you had a tendency to hold a grudge beyond reason.

So, you’re once again stalling, smoking outside the hospital when Natasha pulls over.

“Hey” she smiles and you wave. “Didn’t know you smoked”

“Only after a hard shift. Want one?”

“I quit last year” she shakes her head, sitting next to you.

“Congratulations. I quit every year” you joke. “Heard the first procedure went great”

“Yeah, there was a great deal of enthusiasm. Made me less reluctant to be here. And I promise you’ll be on the next surgery”

“It’s ok, I’m happy to wait for my turn. Good things come to those who wait”

“Speaking of which, what are you waiting for to go home?”

“I don’t know” you shrug your shoulders. “I just wanted a moment to chill before going back to reality, ya know?”

“If for some reason you end up on the couch again, I have a spare bed in the apartment” she offers and you laugh.

“Thank you, Nat” you watch as Yelena finally goes out to meet her sister. “Have a good night, you two”

“Bye, Y/N. Thank you for a great first shift!” Yelena says, excited. She was working as much as you did and for some reason she’s not looking disheveled or exhausted.

To be fair, you’ve been doing this for more years than her.

By the time you get home, all of the lights are out except the one on the porch. Thinking it might be better to stay downstairs, you drop your bag and plop down on the couch, like you used to do when you were living alone and came back completely spent from grueling shifts.

After a few minutes you hear someone walking down the stairs.

“Y/N?” Wanda calls and you sigh.

“Hey”

“I thought I heard you come in”

“Yeah, sorry” you sit up, rubbing your eyes. “It’s pretty late and I didn’t want to wake you up. Go back to sleep”

“Did you eat something?” Wanda ignores your suggestion to go back upstairs, sitting on the edge of the couch.

“Nah, I’m exhausted. Maybe tomorrow. Sleep is all I want now” you sink your face in the cushion, hoping that’s the end of the conversation.

“Come to bed” Wanda asks softly, her hand pushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“You sure?”

“Yes. I can’t sleep without you” she admits in a low voice and you smile.

“Ok, then. Let’s go to bed” you stand up, allowing Wanda to lead you to your room, smiling when she settles next to you.

You’re practically asleep by the time your head hits the pillow, and Wanda admires your sleeping form, wishing she could know what’s going on with you.

“I love you” she whispers against your forehead as she places a small kiss there.

She wonders if that’s enough to get through this rough patch.

—

Hunger is what wakes you up. If your stomach wasn’t protesting the lack of food, you’d stay in bed for the next eight hours.

“Hey, you’re up” Wanda greets you when you walk in the kitchen.

“I’m starving” you say, going through the fridge and hoping Pietro didn’t eat everything again.

“Want me to make you something?”

“That’s ok. I’ll get some cereal” you reject her offer, though you are dying for some of her pancakes.

There’s a beat of silence as you start eating, and then Wanda interrupts it.

“Did you get to scrub in on that big surgery?”

“Nope. Guess Natasha doesn’t like me that much, huh?” you try to joke, but it comes off as bitter.

“So, we’re doing this” Wanda sighs, standing in front of you. You keep eating, looking down at your plate.

“Doing what, exactly?”

“Arguing over her”

“I’m not arguing. There’s nothing to argue about. I’m just mad and hurt because you made me sleep on the couch before a 48 hour shift over forgetting to take out the trash” you say, crossing your arms. Now you’re not even hungry.

“It’s not about the trash. It’s about how you’re constantly on your phone, or spend more hours in the hospital and how you walk  out of a freaking room with her” Wanda says, raising her voice.

“Wanda, she knows I’m with you. We barely talk about personal shit. Hell, I don’t even know if she likes women!”

“She likes you, and that’s enough for me to hate her and this whole situation”

“I have never, ever, given you a reason to doubt me or my committment to this family. I can’t control if she likes me, but what I can control is my own actions. And Wanda, I would never cheat on you. It’s not who I am” you insist. “This is the last time I will defend myself over this subject. You need to figure out if you can get over it or not, because it’s getting exhausting”

She looks at you, and you stand up, washing your dishes. As you’re about to leave the kitchen, Wanda calls for you. You’re surprised to feel her clinging to you, her hands around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry” she says against your neck. “You know how he lied to me. I guess I’m afraid it will happen again. But you’re right, you’re not him. I’m sorry, please, Y/N”

Her voice quivers as she keeps pleading and all of your defenses drop instantly. You turn around, hugging Wanda tight against your body.

“I’m here. I want to be here. I love you and the boys and this is the life I want. Don’t forget that”

“I know. I love you”

You give her a sad smile when you break apart, watching as tears roll down her cheeks.

“Maybe we could… let’s go out tonight. Have a date for ourselves. I’ll ask Laura to take the kids for the night or find a babysitter. I just want to be with you” she asks, leaning her forehead against yours.

“I’m down to whatever it is you want to do” you promise, kissing her nose. “So, we’re good?”

“Yes, detka. We’re good”

And for a moment, you truly believe this will be the end of it.

—

“Where are you going?” Billy follows you, while Tommy stays glued to his mother.

“Ask your Mom, bubs” you say, looking over at Wanda.

“We’re going to the ballet. Would you like to join us?”

“No” they both say, running out of the room.

“Are we really going to the ballet?” you say, trying to not sound disappointed. It’s not like you don’t want some time alone with Wanda, but you’re still pretty tired and if you sit in a theater for two hours you might end up asleep.

“Of course not. But I’m not telling you just yet” Wanda kisses your cheek, taking your hand so you both go down the stairs.

“Have fun tonight” Pietro waves goodbye, Morgan and the children busy with a videogame.

“Kids, come say bye to us” Wanda asks and the twins run to your arms.

“Love you. And you” you say, blowing a raspberry on Billy’s cheeks and then tickling Tommy.

“Love you too” they reply, giggling.

“Love you three” Wanda smiles, kissing them before taking your hand.

“So, when are you telling me… you’re kidding” you say when Wanda hands you a piece of fabric to cover your eyes. You scoff, but tie it, and lean in the seat of the car. “How did you know that my perfect date is to be kidnapped by a beautiful woman?”

“Well, you did tell me you like to be tied up” she jokes and you squirm in your seat. “Maybe some other time we’ll try that”

“Tease”

You try to picture the road Wanda is taking but after ten minutes you give up, leaning back and humming along to the beat of the music playing in the stereo. Thankfully it’s your Beatles playlist, as your father always made you listen to them.

“If I fell in love with you, would you promise to be true, and help me understand, cos I’ve been in love before, and found that love was more than just holding hands” you sing, making Wanda laugh. Of course you know all the lyrics by heart.

“You have a really nice voice. You should sing more”

“Pass, baby. Can I take my blindfold now?”

“Always so impatient” Wanda teases you. “Fine, we’re here either way”

Cheering, you pull the blindfold down, blinking a couple of times to adjust your eyes. Looking out the window, you can see the lights of the amusement park that is close to the peninsula.

“Oh my God! I’ve been wanting to come here for so long”

Ever since you moved to the city, you had planned to visit with Darcy but work always got in the way. You knew Wanda had come with the kids in the past and you always talked about visiting again.

“Come on, let’s go” Wanda takes your hand, and you eagerly follow her to the entrance. You walk around, pointing at all the things you want to try. Without realising, Wanda is leading you to the ride you absolutely do not want to get on.

“Nu-uh” you step back when she turns you to the Haunted House.

“Oh, come on! Please? I can never go because of the kids, and I love haunted houses. Plus it’s in a cart so we’re not gonna be chased by anything”

“People pay money to get chased?” you shout, jumping away when a group of teenagers are wheeled between the doors of the ride, screaming. “Babe, come on. I’ll do anything to skip this one”

“Please? It will be fun. Ok, not fun for you” she clarifies when you make a face.

“Give me one good reason” you challenge her. Of course, Wanda decides to pull you into a kiss, and it’s so good it takes your breath away.

“I knew being this gay would get me in trouble” you mumble while she celebrates her victory.

As you wait in line, you try to get a look at what’s inside and watch people who leave the ride, talking and laughing. They don’t seem traumatized or crying. That’s good, right?

“Ok, no, I want out” you plead the minute you sit down, and the woman operating the ride gives you a curious stare. That makes you settle, and you sink in your small seat, where your legs can barely fit.

The cart is sent through the tracks and you’re engulfed by darkness, still trying to figure out if the first thing will jump from the left or the right.

“Hell, no” you scream, feeling something in your head.

“It’s just rags, detka” Wanda eases your nerves, looking excited for the next scare.

Now that you’re also worried about whatever touches your head, you miss the dummy that pops out on your right, flailing while something that looks like sausages spills out of its chest.

“Gross AND anatomically incorrect” you shout at it.

“You’re so crazy” Wanda laughs next to you, until something else jumps from a coffin and scares her.

“Please let it be over, oh, God why are there red lights”

You are wheeled into a room full of weird looking creatures, and a spray of fake blood almost stains your clothes.

“Should have worn scrubs” you mutter.

There are a couple of typical jumpscares, like the plastic bat that falls from the ceiling, or the cackling witch that almost touches you with its decaying hand.

“Let’s never do that again” you say as soon as the cart stops, jumping out and looking all disheveled.

“Mmm, let’s try the one where you walk next time we come” she says instead and laughs when you look like you’re going to pass out.

“You’re being mean”

“I’m sorry, let’s do something you want now”

Roller coasters and other mechanical rides have never been your jam, so you walk towards the carnival games. You try your luck at the ring toss, balloon darts and the fishing game.

“Ok, last one” you say, pulling Wanda to the milk botttle toss. You’re determined to win something for her, though she insists she doesn’t need anything.

“Ok, that was very impressive” she says when you throw the ball and it knocks down the bottle at the top. The second ball barely touches the rest of the bottles and you sigh, changing your stance. Before throwing, you look at Wanda and place your cheek next to her face.

“Good luck kiss?”

Your girlfriend blushes, but kisses you and walks back as you get ready to throw.

“Babe, I did it!” you shout, lifting Wanda in the air.

“Very nice, detka” she laughs as you put her down, turning to check all the stuffed animals that she can pick from. “Oh, I want the capybara”

“You heard the lady” you say to the man in charge of the stand and he hands it to Wanda.

As you get some food, she pulls it against her chest.

“I love it”

“I love you” you smile, kissing the back of her hand.

There’s a lot to pick from, but you settle on hot dogs and fries, talking about the book and Pietro’s physical therapy.

“What about your surgery?”

“What surgery?” you say as you finish your own food.

“Do you know when you’ll scrub in?”

“Oh, no idea. I know they’re having another one tomorrow, but the Chief’s the one making the calls right now, so” you shrug your shoulders. “Alright, I’m done. Want to go on the ferris wheel before we head home?”

“Sure”

Wanda was a bit hesitant because of the height, but once you reach the top of the ride and enjoy the view, she decides it was totally worth it.

“I loved our date night, thank you” you say, noticing how she’s getting cold and offering your own jacket. “Here, baby”

“Thank you. I’m glad you liked it, even if I made you go into the Haunted House”

“Darcy must never hear how much I screamed” you warn her, enjoying how she scoots closer, leaning her head against your shoulder.

The view is breathtaking and you enjoy it in silence, until Wanda speaks again.

“Our first birthday here, mom and dad took us to one of these amusement parks. We had been in the US for some months and I think it was the first time I thought we could have a normal life”

“That sounds nice. I’m glad you had them to create good memories”

“Yeah, I wish my dad was around to see the kids grow” she sighs. “And if my mother wasn’t so stubborn…”

“Uh… your mom’s alive?” you blurt out, and smack your mouth shut, mortified. “Ok, that came out wrong. It’s just, you never mention her!” you stutter, while Wanda laughs.

“We had… a disagreement. After everything settled in Sokovia, they moved back to this small farm. It was the life they had always wanted. But my dad got cancer and he made mom promise she wouldn’t tell us. I was starting my job at the publishing house and he didn’t want to… I don’t know, worry us?”

“I’m sorry, Wanda”

“So, yeah, by the time we knew it was too advanced and we didn’t get to say goodbye. I’ve had… some resentment towards her ever since. I think we deserved to know” she looks away and you let her take time to calm down.

“I get it, it happens all the time. Sometimes patients want something that goes against their family’s wishes. It’s a fine line, between wanting the best for your loved one and giving them the freedom to choose”

“Yeah. I know Pietro speaks to her because he’s a mama’s boy. But she hates flying and I don’t feel like I’m strong enough to go back to Sokovia… there’s a lot of painful memories”

“Maybe one day we can all go. Or find a middle ground. Whatever you want”

“My mom would love you” Wanda says and you laugh.

“Well duh, all the Maximoffs love me”

“Especially me” she says, kissing you softly. You smile against her lips and break apart just as the ride ends.

You agree to drive back home, while Wanda plays music from your car console.

“You have a playlist titled W?”

“Yeah, those are songs that remind me of you”

The first song she plays is Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer.

“A classic, and so romantic”

“I need to see the entire playlist” she asks and you hand over your phone.

“The password’s the day of our first date” you say. Wanda melts at that, and she’s scrolling down to check out all the songs -her absolute favorite is This will be (An Everlasting Love) by Nat King Cole- when a text comes through.

Nat: Got you a spot at tomorrow’s surgery :)

Nat: So I think now you owe me dinner

Wanda reads the text a couple of times, and her curiosity gets the best of her. To you it looks like she’s scrolling through the playlist, but she’s actually going through your conversation with Natasha.

It’s definitely more flirty on her side, but you’re not acting cold towards her. Wanda knows how friendly you can be, but it seems like on some level, you’re tethering between nice and flirty.

She doesn’t get very far, feeling like she crossed a major boundary. Your words echo back. You’re done discussing the matter and it’s all in her head.

Right?

“Everything ok? I know you don’t like Paramore but The Only Exception makes me think of us” you say, unaware of what is happening.

“Yeah, no. I think I ate too much” Wanda lies and you squeeze her leg, parking outside of the house. She lets you open the door for her and as you pay Morgan, Wanda goes upstairs to change into her pajamas.

It’s all in your head.

But when you go up, and are lookig at your phone with a smile, she has to bite her tongue and pretend like everything’s fine.

“Oop, let me answer this” you say as you get a call.

“Don’t be long” she asks, her voice small.

“Yes, my love” you wink at her. Going downstairs, you look behind you to make sure she’s not listening. “Hello? Yes. About that ring. I’m buying it”

—

Life is great.

Fantastic.

You bought an engagement ring and you’re proposing to Wanda.

As you enter the conference room for the staff meeting, you whistle, making Stark look at you.

“Someone got lucky”

“Yes, I got lucky by meeting the most amazing woman in the world” you smile, sitting down next to Darcy.

“Ugh, I hate cheerful Y/N, it makes me want to unfriend you” she jokes, but you just roll your eyes.

Chief Fury goes over the most important things for every department, and then reminds you the next surgery with the Romanoff technique is happening today, with you as assistant to Natasha.

“Oh, that’s why you’re so peppy” Stark rolls his eyes.

“Tony, don’t be such a drag. Live, love, laugh” you pat his back as the meeting ends and you run after Darcy.

“Hey”  Natasha meets you in the hall and you stop for a second. “Ready for today?”

“Yes! I just need to ask Darcy some questions” you lie. “Meet you in the OR”

You finally catch up to your friend and she eyes you suspiciously.

“Did Wanda get you pregnant?”

“That would be a dream. Our kids would be beautiful. Come here” you pull her by the sleeve of her lab coat. “Wanna ask me what did I do this weekend?”

“No”

“Darcy” you stomp your foot on the ground and she sighs.

“Fine, Y/N, what did you do over the weekend? But without the dirty details” she adds, raising her hand.

“I went shopping. Sort of. I actually made a call about something I wanted to buy”

“New toaster?”

“Engagement ring” you say, and finally, Darcy reacts accordingly.

“Oh, my God! At last! Show me!”

“Ok, so only a picture because it’s getting adjusted to Wanda’s ring size but here”

Darcy admires the yellow gold ring, white diamonds surrounding a big ruby in the middle.

“Holy crap, it’s beautiful. How are you proposing?”

“Ugh, that’s the hard part. I want it to be memorable but not over the top, you know?” you take back your phone, smiling.

“So, a flashmob is out of the question?”

“Very much so. If Wanda sees me dancing she won’t want to marry me” you joke, making Darcy laugh.

“I’m happy for you”

“Thanks, pal. And you’re gonna be my maid of honor, whether you want to or not”

“I can live with that. Congratulations to you and Wanda” she adds a little louder, because Natasha is walking towards you, and your friend still doesn’t like the way the redhead looks at you.

“Congratulations are in order?” the woman says, eyeing you curiously.

“No, she’s just joking about uh, getting a new toaster” you lie, trying to keep your proposal a secret.

“Alright then. Let’s save some lives”

“Sounds good” you smile, walking down the hall with Natasha.

—

For the first time in a long time, Wanda wishes there was more chaos at home. The silence doesn’t help with those spiraling thoughts about you and that doctor.

You’re performing an exciting surgery next to her, saving lives and doing something you’ve always dreamed of doing.

How can she ever compete with that?

Will she have to watch as you keep pulling back, until you come to your senses and leave her?

You had so much fun on your date and Wanda thought things would get better. If she hadn’t seen those messages, maybe things would be different. What would you even think if you knew she read your private conversations?

Her mind’s a mess, so much so that she doesn’t even notice someone’s at the door of your former house, knocking and looking through the windows.

The girl looks fairly young, 18 at most, so she figures it might be a college student looking for accommodation. But she’s insisting on knocking even when it’s clear no one’s around, so Wanda decides it’s better to check if she can help.

“Hello there” Wanda approaches the girl, smiling.

“Hi. I… I’m looking for my sister”

“Oh, you might have the wrong address. This house is empty. What’s your sister’s name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N”

“You’re Y/N sister” Wanda repeats, amazed. She’s never even seen a picture of the girl. All she knows are your half siblings names. “Jenny”

“Yes. Do you know her? Can I borrow your phone? I really need to talk to her” the girl says, and Wanda pays closer attention to her demeanor. She has a backpack, running shoes and a piece of paper with the address. No phone, or anything else.

It honestly looks like she ran away from home.

“Ok, sweetheart, come over and we’ll try calling her. She’s in surgery right now, but I’m sure she’ll manage to come over if she knows you need her”

“Thank you. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be such a bother, Miss…”

“Wanda. My name’s Wanda”

—

Things are going great. You look at your work and then at Natasha across the operating table.

“Almost as good as mine” she says and you roll your eyes.

“It’s pretty darn good, Romanoff”

“Fine. I’ll make sure to write those words down in my report”

Fury is observing from the corner, approving of your work as well.

“Nice job, Y/L/N. Now, I’ve heard your residents are drowning with all the patients in the ER”

“Ah, this work never ever ends, does it?” you sigh, going out of the OR as the rest of the teams cleans up. Natasha is behind you and washes her hands next to you.

“That was amazing, Nat, honestly. Thank you”

“Don’t thank me. You earned it. No one practised more hours than you did”

“I had a great teacher” you smile at her. “What’s next? Monitoring over the next 24 hours?”

“I can handle that, I know you got work to do at the ER”

“No worries, I’ll stop by later and check how everything's going” you pat her shoulder, smiling as you leave the scrub room. You hear Natasha call your name and you turn, thinking there’s something you forgot. “What’s up?”

“I… nothing. Good job out there”

You nod, and leave as you get paged a couple of times. Yeah, Fury wasn’t exaggerating, the ER is total chaos. There’s a school group fighting over a baseball match gone wrong -two concussions, a broken nose- and to top it all of, Yelena and Kate are arguing over who gets what cases.

“Ok, that’s enough. Belova, CT scans. Bishop, you’re monitoring the post op of my patient with Doctor Romanoff”

Typically, that wouldn’t be the most exciting work to do, but it’s a new procedure and Bishop’s more than happy to obey.

“Can I get the broken nose too?“ Yelena asks, dancing when you nod.

One of the guys with a concussion has a seizure, which prompts one of the teachers to scream. You have to kick everyone out, trusting Yelena will be able to stabilize him.

You lose track of time, going in and out of the ER and asking for consults with Ortho, Peeds and Plastics. It’s only after a few hours that you think about checking your phone.

Six missed calls from Wanda. Your heart drops as you call her back.

“Baby, are you ok?”

“Yes. Relax” she says, noticing how tense you sound.

“Come on, are you hurt? Are the kids ok? Six missed calls is something” you begin to ramble.

“Your sister’s here” Wanda cuts you off, figuring there’s no easy way to say it.

“Jenny? Did my mother…?”

“No, it’s just your sister” Wanda looks back, lowering her voice. “I think she ran away from home”

“Oh, shit” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “That’s just fucking fantastic. My mother’s gonna make a scene”

“I don’t think…”

“Jenny came to find me. Who do you think she’ll blame?”

Wanda stays silent for a moment. Of course it’s not your fault, but knowing what she knows about your mother, it’s pretty obvious that she’ll find a way to make you responsible.

“Can I speak to her, please?”

“Jenny, Y/N wants to speak to you” Wanda says, passing the phone to your sister.

“I’m so sorry” it’s the first thing she says, which keeps your mouth shut. “She canceled our trip, said I wasn’t going away to college that far from home. Y/N, she’s been so awful all the time. I just want to be away from her like you”

“Jenny…” you sigh. You honestly didn’t know. All this time, you thought the problem was you. You, who came to live with her new family and be an intruder into their life. The unwanted child that she was forced to take in.

“Look, does your dad know at least? I’m sure they’re worried about you”

“I left my phone back at home and took a bus”

“Ok, ask Wanda to text me your dad’s number so they’ll know where you are. I’ll see if I can get them to wait until tomorrow to pick you up, and we’ll talk when I’m home”

“Ok. I really am sorry” she says.

“I know, kid. I need to speak to Wanda again”

While she hands over the phone, you take a second to breathe, trying to ease your nerves.

“Wands, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to involve you in all of this. I’ll find a way to leave work and take her to a hotel or something…”

“Detka” Wanda interrupts you. “Stay. Do what you have to do. I can take care of things here. We’re a team. We do this together”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. We’ll see you for dinner, ok?”

“Thank you”

“Anything for you” she says with a gentle tone, hanging up.

—

It feels like it’s been a week instead of a couple of hours. The ER was packed, Natasha’s patient had some complications and now you had to prepare to face your mother.

“Hey” Wanda walks out the second she hears your car. Your face says it all, so she skips the part where she asks how you’re doing.

“They’re picking her up tomorrow at noon” is all you say, allowing Wanda to hug you, and placing your head against her shoulder. You breathe deeply, trying to ease your nerves.

“She’s playing with the twins now. Come on” Wanda takes your hand to lead you back inside, but you stay rooted in your spot.

“I haven’t seen her in ten years… I don’t even know what to say to her”

“Maybe she needs someone who listens and understands what she’s going through. Come on, you’ve got this, detka” she insists, careesing your cheek.

“Wanda, I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know what I would have done without you”

Those words, coupled with the look of complete adoration you’re giving her, is enough to soothe her soul and make Wanda forget all those fears about not being enough for you.

Jenny’s sitting at the kitchen counter, speaking to Tommy and Billy.

“They’re very curious about your sister”

“Yeah, well, so am I”

Hearing the door close, your sister turns around, and you stare at each other for a moment. It makes your heart ache, to see her all grown up. Last time you saw Jenny she was seven.

Setting boundaries with your mother came at the cost of watching your siblings grow.

“Hey, kids” you say. Tommy and Billy run to greet you, and you kiss their heads. “My minions”

“Hi” Jenny says, standing up and looking at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble”

“Let’s walk Sparky” you propose, grabbing his leash. The dog knows exactly what that means, and he starts jumping around. “We’ll be back in a bit”

“Ok, sweetheart” Wanda smiles.

“They seem nice” Jenny comments when you walk down the street.

“Yeah, they are. I’m very lucky to have them”

“I didn’t know…”

“I know, I’m sorry. I try to keep these things to myself. Your mother would find a way to ruin it”

“Of course” she says, fidgeting with her hands.

“I spoke to your dad. They agreed to fly tomorrow and pick you up at the hospital. He wasn’t mad, just worried”

“He’s not the one I have a problem with” she huffs. “Dad’s not even happy with her, but he thinks we’ll be traumatized if they get a divorce”

Sparky wants to chase after a cat and you let his barking fill the silence for a while.

“So what’s the plan here? You want to be away from her?”

“I just… can’t breathe anymore. She’s cruel and manipulative and controling. Sometimes I feel like the only way to make it stop is by never speaking to her again”

“Yeah, that sounds familiar. In my case it was easier, she was very eager for me to leave and never come back” you point out, starting to head back home. “I don’t think that will be the case with you”

“Well, maybe I should simply stop talking to her at all” Jenny says.

“Listen, ask your dad for support. Maybe there’s a way to find a middle ground. Because it’s not an easy thing, kid. You’re alone for a lot of the time. I can try and help, but with work and everything else… leaving home and cutting her off will mean a lot of changes. That’s all I’m saying”

“I know” she nods, her voice lower than before.

“Come on, I’m starving” you open the door, letting Sparky run towards the kitchen.

Dinner is spent talking about your sister, and she’s happy to chat with the kids. There’s an awkward pause when they ask about how you were growing up.

“Guys, Jenny was just a baby, she doesn’t remember a lot. What I can tell you is she cried every time she watched Finding Nemo”

“I did not!” she snaps and you hold a laugh. “I only cried because you played it all the time and I was sick of it”

“Yeah, yeah”

“Pietro cried when we watched Snowhite” Wanda intervenes and now, you do let out the loudest lauh.

“Hey, I’m just here minding my business, why are you attacking me?” he says, though he gives Wanda a playful smile.

It’s nice to see Jenny so comfortable, and definitely more relaxed than before. But you know that’s the way Wanda can get to people. She has the talent of making you feel like you belong without trying.

As you look at your girlfriend from across the table, laughing and chatting with your sister, you remember the ring you’re getting in a couple of days. And honestly, it doesn’t matter how you propose, you just hope Wanda wants to be with you forever.

Jenny helps with the dishes, and you recognise that eagerness to be useful in the way you used to clean every surface of your mother’s house, to at least be considered less of a burden. So, you offer to split the work.

“It’s fine, kiddo” you reassure her when she protests.

“I’m almost 18” she challenges you and you let out a laugh.

“Oh, yeah, to be 18 and think I know everything. I’m your big sister. You’re always gonna be a baby to me”

You both work in silence, until Jenny speaks again.

“I remember some stuff. Not a lot, but enough to know how unfair she was to you. But you were never unkind to me. Or Zach”

“It wasn’t your fault. Whatever shit that woman had going on with me was between us two” Jenny snorts at that. “Oh, fuck, pretend you didn’t hear me curse”

“You just did again!”

“No, fuck my life, I already owe like 30 bucks to the swear jar” you hiss, making Jenny laugh again. You throw some water her way, and you engage in a soap war.

“Nu-uh, no mess in my kitchen. I like to keep it clean” Wanda interrupts, scolding you.

“Oh, babe, come on. It’s not like we’ve never had se…”

“Y/N!” she slaps your shoulder. “Do not give this young woman the wrong impression about me. Jenny, we have a full house, but I made the couch as comfortable as possible”

“That’s ok, it’s way better than a bus seat” your sister smiles. “Goodnight and thank you for everything”

“Night, kid” you say, letting out a sigh when she leaves the kitchen. You turn to Wanda, pulling her by the waist and holding her impossibly close. “Thank you for everything. You kept calm and were kind to her. I don’t deserve you”

“You make it sound like I’m perfect”

“You are” you say with complete devotion, kissing her cheek. “I’m not ready for tomorrow, Wanda”

“We’ll do it together” she kisses your shoulder, but you shake your head.

“I don’t want that horrible woman anywhere near you. I’ll come back to pick up Jenny and hand her over to the parents at the hospital”

“Come back? Are you going to the hospital now?” she says.

“I’ll be restless and overthinking… I think only work can get me through this night” you sigh.

“Ok, if that’s what you need to do” Wanda agrees, but you catch the hurt in her eyes. “I’ll go back to working on some sketches, then”

She’s about to leave the kitchen when you change your mind.

“Can I watch you work? I think that would help me”

“Yes, of course” Wanda smiles, reaching for your hand. You pause before the door, kissing her softly.

“Love you”

Jenny is fast asleep when you walk past her.

You settle in Wanda’s study, getting cozy in the small sofa while she takes a seat and works on her drafting table.

Her soft movements lull you, and before you can tell, you’re fast asleep.

Wanda watches as you rest, hoping you can finally have a peaceful night.

—

The drive to the hospital is quiet.

Wanda said goodbye to Jenny with a hug, and a reminder that she’s always welcomed in your home.

But now it’s only the two of you in the car, and you don’t really know how to comfort her.

“If I were to go to college close to Westview… could I visit? I know you’re busy with work and your family, I’m just thinking…”

“Jenny, of course you can. You heard Wanda”

“I’m scared” she admits when you park, and you stay inside the car for a minute longer.

“Look, she’ll probably blame me. So, let her. Don’t argue or defend me” you advise. “She can’t hurt me, not anymore”

Jenny nods, and follows you as you leave the parking lot. Darcy is waiting for you in the lobby.

“Hi, Jenny” she greets. Darcy’s the only one of your friends who knows your family. It was during the only time they visited on campus and Darcy made sure your mother knew she didn’t like her.

“Hey” the girl greets, shyly.

“I have to make my rounds, but Darcy will spend some time with you in the cafeteria and then you can wait in the break room”

Fortunately, the night shift wasn’t so chaotic and Natasha’s patient seems to be stable.

Seems like Natasha went home right after you, so she might be back anytime now. Either way, you keep working until your phone rings.

“Hey, we’re here” Jenny’s father says as you pick up the phone.

“Ok, wait outside. We don’t want her making a scene”

“Yeah” he hesitates and you know he’s just as worried. You’re about to hang up, but think twice.

“Ed, take care of them. They’re good kids”

Jenny isn’t thrilled when you come looking for her. As she walks besides you, you pull her into a hug.

“You’re a strong kid. It’s gonna be fine” you say, and she holds on to you tighter. 

When you walk out of the hospital, your eyes meet your mother’s. How you wish you could say she doesn’t scare you anymore, but a part of you will always be a kid at the mercy of her twisted ways.

Jenny looks at you one last time before she walks up to her parents. If things were different, you’d never let her go back to such a horrible environment.

You prefer to look down until they’re gone.

Which is why you never see the blow coming.

Your mother slaps you across the face and your cheek and the skin around your eye burns.

“You poisoned her against me”

Even if you feel humiliated, you laugh, rubbing your face.

“Have you tried not being a fucking monster to your kids, for once?”

She aims again, but the slap doesn’t land. That’s when you look up, and watch as Natasha holds her wrist, glaring at the woman.

“I would think twice before doing this” Natasha threatens, and you figure her hold most be doing some harm, as your mother retreats her hand.

“You’re dead to me. Don’t ever try to contact me again” she hisses your way and you want to cry with relief. That’s the best thing she’s ever told you.

“I’m sorry” Jenny shouts, getting dragged away by her mother, Ed looking pissed at his wife.

To be fair, seems like her husband hates her guts too. Not that it’s difficult to do so.

“Are you ok?” Natasha turns to you, her hand on your cheek.

“I forgot about the big ass rings she’s always wearing” you try to joke, but you’re skin is still burning and it’s hard to open your left eye.

“Come on” Natasha takes your hand, leading you through the hospital halls until she finds an empty room. Quickly checking for any medical supplies she might need, Natasha comes back to sit next to you.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I’m ok. Besides the slap”

“Yeah, it’s gonna leave a mark for a couple of days” Natasha mutters, checking that the skin is only a bit reddened.

“Nice. It will match the one I have on the back of my head from when she threw a glass at me” you try to joke, but Natasha stays silent.

“Can you open your eye?”

“I think so” you make an effort, blinking a couple of times. Natasha holds your chin, inspecting your pupil.

“It’s fine” she says, nodding. “We should probably put something cold so the swelling goes down, though”

“Ok” you nod. Natasha’s about to stand up when she catches the tears threatening to spill over.

“I’m here” she reassures you, holding your face with her hands.

“I failed her. I should have known… I should have stayed to protect her. But I left, because it was easier…”

“It’s not your responsibility. You were a kid too” she says, catching a tear that rolls down your cheek. “You’re kind and sweet, and a wonderful person. You didn’t let that woman poison you. That’s what matters”

Her words hit you like a wave, so you close your eyes and breath. You’re about to thank Natasha when you see it.

It’s a very brief moment, but you catch it.

Natasha staring at your lips.

Her hands are still on your cheeks, looking conflicted on what to do next. Pull apart and pretend it never happened? Lean forward and kiss you?

Natasha knows you caught her.

And you haven’t pulled back.

Pull back, pull back.

Whatever you were about to say is interrupted by your pager.

911.

Of course.

“I…”

“Yeah” Natasha nods, finally dropping her hands and standing up, her back to you. You grab the doorknob, but don’t turn it in your hands, heart still racing.

“Natasha” you say and she turns around, looking hopeful.

“Doctor Y/L/N, there you are” Kate walks in, but her eyes widen as she sees Natasha across the room. “I’m sorry, there’s an emergency. An accident in the bridge, multiple people hurt. We’re called onsite”

“Get everything ready and page Yelena” you ask. Kate nods, leaving the door open.

“I have to…” you say, looking back at Natasha.

“Be careful” is all the redhead says, smiling at you.

“Thank you. For what you did back there” you remember, smiling one last time as you leave the room.

It’s all a blur as you get ready to leave, packing bags with medical supplies. Your mind is elsewhere, especifically in that room with Natasha.

Would something have happened if it weren’t for Kate’s interruption?

“Hey” Yelena calls for you, and you snap out of those thoughts.

“Come on, you two. Lewis is running the ER; be in constant contact to alert about upcoming patients” Kate and Yelena follow you to the ambulance waiting, and you sit across from the blonde. “Alright, Belova. Let’s see what you’ve got”

--

There’s a reason not everyone can do this job.

Your team steps out of the ambulance and walks into pure chaos. At least ten cars have crashed against each other, while a bus impacted the railway. 

“Driver of the bus lost consciousness. Crashed into the rail and other cars” Clint says as soon as you come into view. “We’re prioritizing the people on the bus, we don’t know how much damage there is on the rail and it can be dangerous”

“Kate, you can handle this, right?” you say, and the brunette nods, excited at the prospect of working solo. “Belova, you’re with me”

Yelena is overwhelmed, looking around at the people who are in shock or bleeding.

“Come on, we’re here to help, not stare”

“Yes, I’m sorry”

Clint’s team is helping everyone out of the bus and you walk up to the driver’s side. A car is blocking the door and he’s still unconscious.

“What do we do?” you ask Yelena.

“Check if he’s breathing”

“He is. And?” 

“Check his pulse. Then we…”

“Immobilize neck and spine, place him on the back board and carry him out” you say. “You gotta go faster, Belova”

An EMT joins you, helping with the maneuvers until you’re out of the bus. 

“Flail chest and hypoxia. I’m starting BVM” Yelena says, pulling out the equipment. She makes sure everything is in place before the ambulance leaves for Stark Hospital.

You keep working on more people, and the less critical injuries are redirected to Westview Medical Center. When you’re almost done, Kate asks for your help and you leave Yelena checking the vitals of an elderly man.

The blonde is exhausted, leaning against the railway and watching you work with Kate. The brunette has a lot more confidence in her movements and decisions, and Yelena tries to think that some day she’ll manage to be at that level of skill. As she looks down to the bridge, she notices a motorcycle. Leaning forward, she catches sight of a leg, noticing there’s a person trapped. She’s about to turn and ask for help, but you’re doing CPR while Kate struggles to stabilize a woman. The jump isn’t that bad, so she decides to go over the railing and land on the pile cap.

“Hello? Sir?” She shakes the man and searches for a pulse, but it’s obvious by his injuries that he’s dead. The question is how to go back to the bridge now. She tries to climb back using some of the loose parts of the rail, but she stumbles, making part of the structure fall close to her head.

“What’s that noise?” you ask, looking around. “Where’s Yelena?”

As you run around, searching for her, you hear a metallic crash and the splash of water.

“Yelena?!” you scream, looking everywhere for her. You spot her windbreaker stuck in the pier of the bridge. 

“Do you think she fell in the water?”

“I don’t think, I know” you say, your heart dropping as you spot her getting carried away by the current, still unconscious. “Tell Clint to hurry up, because I really don’t wanna die today” 

“Wait!” 

But you’re already diving, and the cold water leaves you out of breath. It feels like your lungs are on fire when you gasp for air, and you have to use all your strength to not get dragged away from Yelena. Her bag is helping to keep her on the surface, though she’s not awake and you have no idea how long she’s been in the water.

It takes you a few minutes swimming against the current to reach her, and by the time you do, you’re exhausted.

“Come on, Yel” you say, keeping her head above the water. You’re not gonna be able to keep this up for much longer, and the bridge is looking further away every time you turn around.

If you survive this, you’re gonna propose to Wanda the next time you see her.

But as a wave hits you and you struggle to keep yourself and Yelena afloat, you think that’s a pretty massive if.

--

Natasha’s not a team player, that’s for sure. But the ER is a mess, and she knows it’s all hands on deck. So, she scrubs in, working with Darcy and Barnes to help everyone that comes in.

“We got the last one coming,” Darcy announces, picking up the phone. “Shit. Romanoff”

“What?” Natasha asks, although she’s afraid she knows the answer.

“Your sister, something happened… Y/N dived to rescue her, they both got dragged by the current” Darcy says, holding the phone against her ear. “Ambulance is five minutes away” 

Natasha feels like throwing up. Those are the longest five minutes of her life, and Fury joins her as they wait for them to arrive. 

“Female, twenties. Unconscious, hypothermic. Intubated and started oxygenation” Drax says as soon as the ambulance stops. Kate jumps out, running next to the gurney and holding on to Yelena.

“Kate, where’s…” Darcy says, and you jump out of the passenger seat, holding a blanket. You’re freezing, but alive.

“Here. I’m fine. She didn’t spend that much time underwater, I got to her soon” 

“We need to stabilize her and raise temperature. You, stay here and let someone check you” Darcy says when she sees you getting ready to help.

Natasha is in the room with her sister, while Fury, Barnes and Darcy work. Taking a deep breath, you walk to the locker room to find dry clothes, and hopefully get a little warmer.

You honestly thought you’d both die out there, until Clint arrived in a boat that he stole from heaven knows where. Still, it was a close call.

Hopefully, Yelena will be alright.

Once you change into some dry scrubs, you notice there’s a gash in your arm. Sighing, you walk to a supply closet, looking for something to clean up the wound. Someone walks in and you turn around when the door slams behind them. Natasha looks at you, chest heaving.

“Is Yelena…?” you fear the worst.

But she doesn’t let you finish.

Natasha’s lips crash against yours, holding you by the neck and inviting you to explore her mouth. All you feel is the warmth of her body against yours, the passion she’s pouring into the kiss intoxicating and clouding your mind. Your hand goes around her waist to pull her closer…

Wanda.

The thought makes you open your eyes, and you pull back, out of breath. Natasha’s still holding on to you, and you almost get lost on her green eyes when someone else walks in.

Carol looks between you two, and Natasha turns around, hiding her face.

“Wanda’s here”

Your heart drops. Without looking back to Natasha, you leave the room, following Carol.

“Darcy called me. I was so worried” your girlfriend launches into your arms, her face against your chest. You try to control your shaking hands, arms going around her shoulders. “I’m so relieved that you’re ok”

In that moment, you turn your bodies around and your eyes meet Natasha’s.

You feel guilt, shame. 

And something else.

A flutter in your chest at the memory of her lips on yours.

No, you’re definitely not ok.

[nats-bottom]

lol forgot I had this...

------------ Natasha can hear your keys jingling behind her. Tony’s holiday party has died down to a small crowd, so you and Natasha take that as your cue to leave. 

“Ready?” You’re standing there with a warm smile and Natasha’s coat draped over your arm. She moves to take it from you but you shake your head. You hold it open to help her into it. 

“Where are we going?” She asks, shrugging on the coat. 

“For a drive,” you spin the keys around your finger and that’s when Natasha realizes that you haven’t looked at Christmas lights all month. Not for lack of trying, though. You both spent more than half of December on recon missions on opposite sides of the world. You’ve both been back for less than 24 hours and you are determined to squeeze in all your favorite Christmas activities before New Year’s.

You hold out your hand and Natasha takes it without another thought. You excitedly drag her down to the garage and towards the car. You hold the door open for her. Her cheeks already feel sore from smiling by the time you slip behind the wheel. 

When you reach the first neighborhood, the whole street is brightly lit by extravagant light displays. There’s couples and families walking up and down the block to take in the sights. You pull over to join them. Natasha watches your eyes light up brighter than any of the houses on the block. She never liked Christmas until she met you. Really, she just likes seeing you happy more than anything. Even if that means being dragged out in the cold to be blinded by so many lights for one night out of the year. 

The rest of the night consists of you driving to different neighborhoods on your itinerary. At one point, you stop to buy some hot chocolate from a kid and his sister selling it in front of another elaborately decorated house. Natasha feels a warmth bloom in her chest. She could get used to a sight like this. 

The last stop is just one house in a cul-de-sac. It’s the least lavish looking display compared to the previous homes from earlier. There are colorful bulbs dancing along the trim of the house. There’s twinkling white and blue lights covering shrubs and the trunk of a tree sitting in the front yard. There’s also an inflatable Santa and Christmas tree next to the driveway. It’s uncoordinated and humble, but the way you look at it could trick anyone into thinking it was the best Christmas lights display ever. 

“This is what my childhood house looked like—every Christmas,” your breath hangs in the cold air. Natasha really listens every time you talk about your early life because it rarely happens. She knows you struggle to remember—and talk about—what’s left of your memory.

You’re the first one to step out, Natasha’s muscles barely have time to twitch into action before you’re already opening the door for her. Her hand slips in yours. You both walk to where the sidewalk meets the driveway. Natasha watches the lights dance across your face and decides that Christmas is her favorite holiday.

[nats-bottom]

𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡

18+ MINORS DNI

a/n: requested by a very dear reader on wattpad :)

summary: based on the song by justin timberlake; SHIELD agent!reader, iron man 2!nat because i rewatched it recently and goddamn 🤤

warnings: smut (fingering, n receiving), blood, descriptions of injuries

word count: 11.5k

✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷

Practiced hands adjust seams and smooth over her arms. The fabric doesn't bunch, which is good — it wouldn't be practical during a fight. You tighten the straps around her thighs, making sure they're snug and secure, and then look up.

Natasha smiles at you and cups your jaw. Her thumb brushes along your bottom lip.

"Taking your time?"

"More like stalling."

It's dark in your lab. Machines whir, scanners beep occasionally. You're crouched in front of her, fitting and prepping her suit pre-mission. You've done this dozens of times. It's how everything started between you and her.

Back then, you couldn't believe your luck (you still can't), because who would've thought that being her weapons specialist would lead to what you have now? In hindsight, however, it makes sense.

It's intimate. It's quiet. It builds trust. You know her better than most people around here, which is a privilege. You know her favorite types of knives, how she likes her suit fitted, what exactly she needs to be able to perform at her best.

And then, afterwards, you go home. Other things matter, like her favorite candy (sour patch kids) or the show she's currently watching.

You adjust the suit around her waist, fingers skimming her hips. You secure a few holsters, attach some knives, and then straighten up. You feel her lips against yours before you can even look at her again.

Deep, firm, slow. Savoring it. You cup her face before slowly moving your hands into her hair. The curls are soft between your fingers.

She pulls away, but you can still taste her breath. Her lips curve into a sweet little smirk.

"Stalling, huh?", she mumbles, glancing at your lips. You lick them and taste the lip balm she loves so much.

"Yeah. They take a while. Missions, I mean."

"I'll be back before you know it."

Your hands trail down her sides again. You absently adjust her knives.

"Not soon enough", you say, pecking her lips. "Who's joining you this time?"

Natasha tilts her head. "I'm not telling you."

You frown. Truthfully, it might be for the better that you don't know. Depending on who it is, the answer might end up making you waltz up to said person and show her off just to make a point.

Mine. Seriously. Look, don't touch. Actually, don't even look.

She smiles and steps away. You quickly snake your arm around her waist and tug her back into you.

"I want an answer", you insist. Her hands splay out on your chest, toying with the zipper of your SHIELD vest. "For safety."

"Remember that lie detector test you took?"

You furrow your eyebrows. "What's your point?"

She grasps your bottom lip. "No wonder you failed. You're miserable at it."

"Not necessarily a bad thing."

"Never said that's the case."

She steps away and gathers her stuff — her favorite gun, her backpack, her Widow's Bites that she puts on. You stand there, watching her, arms crossed and mind running in circles.

Hopefully, she's not going with Valerie. What they had was barely a relationship, but the entire organization knows that she's still pining for Natasha.

Or Ward. Nothing happened between them, to be fair, but you heard him call her 'eye candy' once.

Was he wrong? No. Did you mess with his suit anyway, just so it'd smell like something had rotted in it? Possibly.

"Be careful", you mutter, still slightly disgruntled.

"Always am." She shoulders her backpack. "Hands off Ward's stuff."

Your head snaps upward. "What? I didn't-"

"Lie detector test, honey."

You grunt, rubbing the back of your neck. Natasha puts her foot up on a chair to adjust the strap around her thigh. You catch yourself staring.

Behind you, something starts beeping rapidly. You quickly walk back to your and curse quietly. One of the new high tech gadgets you've been tinkering with has started sparking.

Natasha glances at you, trying not to smile. "New?"

"Of course", you mutter, trying to find what the issue is this time. You reach for the pliers and cut one of the wires. "Goddammit."

"Don't burn yourself."

You sigh and put the gadget aside. How unfortunate — you've been putting a lot of time and energy into this little project. It's a small gadget, merely the size of your palm, but its impact would've been huge. It's multifunctional, designed to help agents hack into databases, unlock different kinds of locks, even scan rooms for traps.

Of course, you mainly had Natasha in mind when designing it. She's complained about similar issues a couple times in the past, and the idea struck you when you were lying in bed together.

Whatever. Looks like you'll have to keep working. In the end, it doesn't matter whether you put ten weeks or ten months into it — as long as it'll end up making her life safer and easier.

"You're nerding out again", Natasha says, suddenly behind you, and presses a kiss to your exposed neck. Your cheeks flare up. "I'm leaving."

"A goodbye, maybe?", you say, turning to face her halfway. She pauses, then cups your jaw with one hand and puts the other on the small of your back.

She's not used to this yet. This having-someone-to-say-goodbye-to, tender thing. Having someone who wants that goodbye, and the obligatory kiss that follows. Someone who'll wait in the hangar when she returns. Someone who'll check up on her.

How couldn't you, though? The reason why you're doing it is standing right in front of you. You'd be an idiot not to care like this.

"Don't go all sentimental on me", she mumbles, finally kissing you.

It's softer this time, lingering even after she's already parted from you. You walk her to the jet, where the pilot is waiting already. Another kiss, a bit quicker, then she turns around. You watch her leave, red curls bouncing slightly as she climbs into the jet.

. . .

SHIELD's hallways are never quiet, never silent, never empty. There's always someone wandering about — whether it be security or agents getting from one place to another.

It's not different tonight. You're walking through hallways, boots thudding against concrete floors and your hands tucked into your vest. Comparing you to a dog would be stupid, but you're not too unlike Hachi in that moment.

You round a corner, greet a fellow agent and check the time. 2.40am, so Natasha should be arriving in about ten minutes. You run your hand through your hair and step into the hangar, where Fury is waiting already.

You give him a quick side eye. "Another one of those?"

"Immediate debriefing. Not much time, Y/L/N." He raises his eyebrows. "What're you up for this early?"

"Nat", you say evasively. "I always wait for her."

He nods. It's not that your private relationship isn't known around here. You've been seen kissing, sneaking into each other's workspaces, flirting over lunch and leaving together a bunch of times. But Fury always seems to assume that it just isn't that serious. That it can't be that serious.

You know what he bases that assumption on. It's not fair, or right, but you can't change the mind of a man who's as stubborn as a mule.

He'll always see Natasha as the person he was first introduced to. The girl from the Red Room, who wouldn't let anyone get too close to her. The one with the trauma, the one who built walls too high to climb and too thick to take down.

It's bullshit. You know it is because you've seen the proof. You've held it in your hands, you've seen it in a way no one else is allowed to. Which is exactly why you won't tell him about it, though. There are different ways in which you can protect someone.

You hear the spinning of engine blades, still muffled but slowly increasing in decibel level. As the jet nears the hangar, the sound gets less and less bearable. If it were only slightly louder, it'd cause you pain.

You walk down the stairs as soon as the jet has touched down. The moment Natasha steps out, though, your stomach turns.

Valerie, in all her glory. Straight black hair, a little nose piercing, her hand resting on your girlfriend's lower back and steadying her. She mumbles something and laughs before Natasha can even react properly.

In that moment, you're glad you left your taser in your office. Giving her a quick little shock probably wouldn't sit too well with Fury, and you're pretty sure Natasha wouldn't love it, either.

Thankfully, she spots you before you can say anything stupid. She's next to you in the blink of an eye, smiling softly, secretively, and squeezing your hand. She doesn't dare do much else, but that's fine. Just like that, Hachi is back home.

You wrap your arms around her and kiss the top of her head. Her head rests against your chest, if only briefly.

"How was it?", you mumble, ignoring the fact that the Director is trying to talk to the woman wrapped up in you. She tips her face up, letting your lips brush against her nose.

"Exhausting and painful", she replies, voice soft.

"No Ward?"

"Careful there."

"Can't blame me for asking." You glance in Valerie's direction pointedly. Natasha pinches your side. "What's she doing here?"

Natasha sighs and kisses your cheek. A rare moment of PDA meant to calm you down, but it ends up having the opposite effect. Valerie gives you a look that's entirely too long. You frown and turn back to Natasha again, your arms tightening around her.

Your little moment gets disrupted by none other than Fury. He pats your back with a little too much force, so you let out a long-suffering exhale and let go of her. Right, the debriefing. Another hour spent here, waiting.

You trail through the hallways, following Natasha like a guard dog. The debriefing room is familiar, with its black leather swivel chairs and long table. A fancy high tech screen hanging on the wall, a projector, the shutters closed so that not a single photon can escape.

You sit next to her. Obviously. She raises her eyebrows at you, but truthfully, she should be glad you didn't just say 'screw it' and pull you into her lap.

Fury stares at you like you just shapeshifted into an actual dog. You weren't part of the mission. All you did was prep her gear and fit her suit. You don't belong here. Yet you waltzed in like you do, and no one seems to be complaining.

Grinning faintly, you put your legs up on the table and cross your arms behind your head. You nod lazily.

"Feel free to start, Sir."

Another stare. A sigh, long and loud. He rubs his forehead and finally turns on the projector. A bunch of mission jargon, accompanied by a map and a few pictures, appear on the screen.

An hour turns into two. You leave the debrief room with your arm around her shoulders. You're tired, but she's drained. You know she'd never admit to it — you know she tends to push herself no matter what; even on the brink of death, she'd keep fighting — but you can see the signs.

The blinking, slightly more frequent. The redness in her eyes. The way her voice softens into a mumble.

She barely says anything on the way home. But as soon as you've entered her apartment, she pulls you into the bedroom with her. You're the one who fitted her suit, who made sure it's like a second layer of skin on her. You know every strap and zipper, and you undo them all blindly.

Your vest is shrugged off. It lands on the floor. Boots are toed off and kicked aside. Bodies fall onto the mattress together.

Right as you're kissing down her neck, hands wandering over her body, you feel something that shouldn't be there. A bandage, around her thigh, with dried blood on it.

First, you stare. Then, Natasha puts her fingers under your chin and tips your head up.

"You know what I think about you doing that."

You almost grimace. She hates it when people stare at her wounds and scars. It's not just a pet peeve — it's a deeply rooted insecurity. It's only a small part of what she tends to cover.

In that moment, though, you don't care. Because you know what Valerie was for on this mission. She was there to watch Natasha's back, to make sure she wouldn't get hurt.

"She failed", you say, sitting up. Natasha sighs and rests her upper body on her forearms. "She had one job-"

"And she made a mistake."

"One that could've killed you!"

"Do you really think I'm that easy to kill? Trust me, she's helpful, but she's not the reason the mission was successful."

You snort derisively. Not because of her, but because she thinks she has to remind you. Of course you know all of this. There's a reason as to why Natasha is so feared, why Fury values her so much. But you're looking for things that'll help you win this argument.

It's not really an argument. You're just pissed at her ex.

"I'm aware", you say, fingers brushing against the bandage again. "Still, you know...what's the point of her joining if you end up getting shot at, anyway?”

Natasha raises her eyebrows, silently challenging you. Do you really want to hear this?

"Oh, come on."

"You're ridiculous."

"Okay, maybe I am", you concede. "You're still the one with a bullet wound, though."

She flops backwards onto the mattress. You sigh and crawl on top of her, hands braced next to her head, and kiss her.

She grasps the front of your top, lips pressing against yours firmly, essentially shutting you up.

Well, it shuts you up for exactly five hours. The second you're back at the headquarters in the morning, you drop Natasha off and then make your way to the gym. Boots thud, your steps heavy and determined.

You push open the door with such force that it slams against the wall, but Valerie doesn't bat an eye. She's on the treadmill, warming up, her hair in a sleek ponytail and her clothes tight. There's a band around her wrist that measures her vitals.

She barely glances at you. You stomp to her side and tug the earphones out of her ears. Another glance, slightly annoyed.

"What?”

"What do you mean, 'what'? You're the reason my girlfriend has to take antibiotics!"

She stops the treadmill and leans on one of the handrails. You'd love to wipe that look off her face — smug, unimpressed, almost daring. You used to be naive. You used to believe that no one could be that petty. Natasha's ex managed to prove you wrong.

"She's fine", she says, sounding like she's explaining the concept of love to a toddler. You clench your jaw. "She's not even in med bay. They sent her home."

"'Fine'? She got shot at! You were there to prevent it, and what did you do?"

"I tried", she replies curtly. She straightens back up and turns the treadmill on again, but you slam your fist on the stop-button. "What's with you and those anger issues?"

"You tried? You don't go there to try! You go there to do your fucking job!"

Valerie raises her eyebrows at you. You've never been nice to her, no, but you've never snapped at her like this. Truthfully, she thinks it's ridiculous. It makes her wonder why Natasha bothers being with you, but that's a thought she's not going to voice unless she has to.

"She's alive", she says, leaning back against the other handrail this time. Her arms cross in front of her chest.

"Oh, and that's enough? It's the bare minimum! I need to be able to trust you that you'll protect her!"

"No, you don't", she says. "Nat trusts me, and that's enough."

You almost flip the treadmill she's on, but that'd be overkill, so you lean over the handrail and grip it tightly.

"Not enough, apparently. Otherwise-"

"Agent Y/L/N."

You turn around, blinking. As soon as you see Fury's face, you almost roll your eyes. Of course. Who else would it be but the man who could fire you.

You put some space between you and Valerie to make it seem like you weren't about to chew her out.

"Yes, Director?", you ask, trying your best to seem normal.

"Romanoff's asking for you."

Maybe you should be embarrassed that those few words are enough to make you perk up, but honestly, you don't care. She's asking for you, not Valerie. When she needs to talk, she talks to you. You're jealous, and that's fine, but deep down you know there's no reason to be.

You shoot Valerie a pointed glance, then leave the gym.

. . .

"You're insane", she says, combing her fingers through your hair.

You're in the rec room, which is only empty because almost everyone is at lunch. Natasha, on the other hand, received a sweet little text that made her tug you away from the cafeteria.

She's straddling your lap, hands all over you. In the sweatpants and tank top she's wearing, you can barely focus. Too bad there are security cameras all over this place. The storage room falls flat as well. 'Too dirty', she said. 'So much dust.'

Though, if you hook up at work once, it might affect your performance for the rest of your career.

"She had it coming", you say stubbornly. Natasha raises her eyebrows. "You can't tell me you haven't noticed."

"Noticed what, exactly?"

You shift under her. She clicks her tongue and cups your face. "May as well tell me."

If only it were that easy. You doubt she hasn't noticed how Valerie stares at her, how she still seeks her out, how she wants what's clearly taken. You don't have ownership over her — obviously not, god forbid — but you're selfish. You know you are. If you could keep her to yourself, you would.

"The point is-"

"The point is you're overthinking this", she cuts you off. "Val and I are on good terms..."

(The nickname makes you fume. You bite your tongue.)

"...and I don't need to end up in a spat with a coworker." She pushes her finger into your chest. "And neither do you."

No reply. You stare at her, tongue between your teeth, a million unsaid things on your tongue. You're not sure if she hasn't realized or if she simply doesn't care, but you do have your reasons. Valerie is annoying, and she's petty, and she hovers around Natasha like she has any right to do so.

You don't like this feeling, either — this all-consuming jealousy. It's not something you're used to. But something about that woman just drives you up the wall.

"Fine", you mutter. "Fine, I'll let it go."

"You better."

"I still don't like her."

"Fair. I guess."

Natasha pecks your lips and scoots off your lap. You watch her grab the coffee pot and pour a generous amount. Sugar, no milk. Back to work it is.

You pick her up once you're both done with your shifts. Arm wrapped around her shoulders, you make sure to walk past Valerie's desk on your way out. She doesn't look at you, but her typing on the keyboard speeds up.

"Ha", you mumble.

"What was that?"

You shake your head and kiss her ear. She squirms at the feeling.

"Doesn't matter. I'm happy now, angel."

. . .

"Whose idea was this?"

"Hill", Natasha says, reapplying lipstick. You're in the elevator that leads to the building's top floor, but you're not here for work. It's Fury's birthday, and apparently Maria Hill decided that the grumpy old man deserves a proper celebration.

You're leaning against the wall of the elevator, hands in the pockets of your slacks, an absentminded look in your eyes. A gift is tucked under your arm, your shirt is open at the top, but it's not your reflection that's got you this distracted. It's Natasha, looking at herself in the mirror and gently blotting her lips. Hair freshly curled and dress hugging all her curves, she looks unfairly sinful for an office celebration.

"Doubt he even wants a party", you mumble, eyes trailing lower. You exhale quietly. "That dress is a blessing, you know."

"So dramatic", she says, smiling faintly. "I'm not complaining. I want to see him get drunk. Think that’ll change his grumpy attitude?"

You hum. The elevator dings and comes to a stop, so Natasha links her arm around yours. You step into the hallway, her heels clicking with every step. You can already hear the music and feel the bass thump.

“Nothing could change it”, you say, eyes on her. She tilts her head. “A real Fury the Grouch.”

“Sesame Street?”

“I babysat my niece while you were gone. Don’t ask.”

Natasha laughs, the sound soft and raspy and genuine. She tugs you into an empty corner, hands finding the collar of your shirt, and brings her lips up to yours.

“Good thing you’re not a grouch. And even better that I know exactly how to turn a grumpy you back into a happy you.”

“It’s quite easy”, you affirm. Your hands slide to the curve of her back, keeping her close. “It involves you and the disposal of a dress.”

“Charmer”, she whispers.

Cheeks reddened, you smile. You lean in, slowly, and steal that kiss you’ve been waiting for since you stepped out of your apartment.

She tastes like mint and something entirely hers. Her fingers grasp your collar tightly, her skin is warm under your palms. She nods her head to deepen the kiss, one hand finding the back of your neck.

“Romanoff, Y/L/N! You really have no shame, do you?”

You pull away with a quiet groan and shoot a glare at the offender. Of course it’s Ward, because who else would it be but SHIELD’s most annoying agent.

Natasha doesn't even glance at him. She just smiles at the sight of your mouth, smudged with her lipstick, and swipes her thumb across your lips.

"Not your color", she says thoughtfully.

"Agreed", Ward says, putting a tray of horsd'œuvres down next to you. “You guys hungry? Probably not, since you’re eating each other’s faces. The salmon’s good, though.”

“Can you creep someone else out?”, you mutter.

Natasha smiles at you, which is enough to soften your attitude a little. Ward rolls his eyes.

“I’m just saying, Fury gets uncomfortable when someone holds hands. But keep the girl-on-girl action going, I’m not complaining.”

“I’ll shoot you”, you say, gripping Natasha’s waist.

He lifts his hands. “You can try.”

“That’s enough”, your girlfriend mumbles, patting your side. “Stay here for a moment, hm? I’m getting us something to drink.”

You hum reluctantly, staying in your spot against the wall. With your hands losing the purpose of holding Natasha’s waist, you have no other choice but to tuck them into your pockets.

She’s already halfway to the bar, hips swaying and red curls moving with every step. You sigh quietly and turn your head. The way you scan the crowd isn’t deliberate, but it’s purposeful. It’s you making sure that nobody is staring too hard.

You’re fine with Natasha getting looked at. Somewhat fine, that is. You know she’s gorgeous, and that others can see that too. Humans can’t help it — if something’s beautiful, they stare at it.

Or avert their eyes. Which is what happened when you first met her. But knowing you wouldn’t get anywhere with that attitude, you’d forced yourself to get your shit together. Thankfully, you didn’t make an idiot out of yourself. It worked out.

You still remember it all. First dates, leaning against bars and sipping whiskey. Getting to know her. Sleeping with her. The tingling feeling in your stomach whenever your phone made a sound — a text? A call?

That hasn’t changed. You still hope it’s her behind every phone call, every text.

Natasha leans over the bar and mumbles her order to the bartender. He nods and turns around. Valerie slides closer. Just like that, the mood shifts. It’s like a storm rolled in.

You’re somewhere between making a beeline for the bar and staying right where you are. After what happened last week, you’re sure she wouldn’t appreciate an unwarranted interruption by her girlfriend right now.

They’re talking, that’s it. Just a brief chat. They’re co-workers, after all. Friends. Exes. It’d be selfish of you not to let her have this, right? Even if they’re connected by history.

But Valerie’s getting closer. If you were in Natasha’s spot, you’d probably feel her breath and smell the cigarette she smoked.

You subtly feel for the gun tucked into your belt. It’s always there. Not a moment of peace for you, but you’ve gotten used to it.

Natasha smiles. Valerie tilts her head, scoots closer. Your heart beats faster.

Natasha gets up and turns around. Valerie stares at her, blinking. You quickly push off the wall to meet her halfway.

She wraps her arm around yours neck and holds the glass to your lips, tipping it. Vodka burns in your throat, your eyes water, and you pull away enough to kiss her. She hums, sucking the remaining alcohol off your tongue.

“What was that for?”, you mumble, rubbing her side.

“Thought you needed it. Tried to stop you from breaking her nose.”

“Oh, you…” You huff. “Alright.”

“You’re everything but subtle”, she reveals, putting the empty shot glass aside. “And shooting her really isn’t necessary, baby.”

You roll your eyes. Natasha smirks and tilts her head, nose brushing against your jaw. Her hand cups the side of your face. Your cheek feels warm beneath the pad of her thumb.

“I don’t know why you’re this chill”, you mutter.

“Because I know that Val can be sad and desperate”, she whispers. Her hand moves to your shirt, and she undoes another button. Palm against your chest, she feels your steady heartbeat. “And it’s you who’s taking me home tonight.”

You put your hand on her wrist, holding her hand in place. Your eyes slowly trail back to the bar, to Valerie; and when your eyes meet, she knocks back another shot.

She's looked pissed off before, but never like this. Time to amp up the heat.

"Taking you home, huh?", you mumble, glancing at Natasha's lips. "You're optimistic."

Natasha raises her eyebrows at you. Her hand, still on your chest, slides back up and into your hair. "What're you saying?"

"I'm saying..." You lean in, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth. "I don’t want to wait. Let me touch you."

She exhales. Her head tilts, her eyes search yours. What you’re doing is painfully obvious, but she can’t deny the thrill your words send through her. The idea is risky, but appealing.

You, her. Hidden in a dark hallway. Dress hiked up, lipstick smudged, your hand over her mouth to keep her quiet.

Would you keep her quiet? Or would you try and do the opposite?

Your hand moves down her body and to her backside. You give it a light squeeze, and she gives you another glance.

Her hand grabs yours. You sneak away from the party and into the hallway.

Before you even manage to push her up against the wall, she's already pulling you closer. Your lips crash into hers, desperate and needy, and she clutches your collar. Your hands fumble with her dress, bunching it up around her hips.

The party is still in hearing distance. A pop song is playing instead of whatever techno music was booming earlier. You hear voices, muffled and blending together. Natasha’s lips press against your shoulder, your own trail kisses down her neck.

“Don’t leave a mark”, she warns, breathless, when you suck on her collarbone.

“Why?” You pull away enough to see the hickey blooming on her skin. “Looks good.”

She moans quietly and tugs you back in. Your fingers slide between her thighs, to the lacy underwear she’s got on, and nudge the fabric aside.

Moonlight seeps in through the window. You taste alcohol and mint. Wet heat envelops your fingers, and her back arches. You thrust in deeper, all the way you your knuckles, and kiss her through it. She pulls away, panting into your open mouth.

"Fuck."

"Don't make a sound", you mumble, peppering her jaw with kisses. "You'll get us caught."

A whine. Your free hand grips her thigh, hikes it up. Having better access now, you add a finger. She almost falls apart, and her moans and whines echo in the empty hallway.

A door opens and shuts. You angle your body a little, still fingering her relentlessly.

Butterflies and tingles, legs trembling and breath uneven. You hear footsteps, quiet and muffled. Your hand is drenched, her underwear is sticking to her thighs.

Another whiny moan. You shush her, curling your fingers and pushing them deeper.

"Not a noise, love. Or I'll make you come again. Want to go back in there shaking?"

The footsteps are approaching you. Natasha writhes, and you wrap your arm around her thighs to keep her in place. When she comes, it's loud and barely restrained. You laugh against her neck, breathless, and let her ride out her orgasm.

She slumps against the wall. You pull out and lick the excess moisture off your fingers. She watches you, dazed and spent.

"Back to the party?", you ask, already adjusting her dress with one hand.

"A moment", she mumbles, closing her eyes. "Good luck explaining this to Fury."

"Huh?"

She nods at the ceiling. You look up and huff. Security cameras, of course. Everywhere. Filming and remembering every moment, every gasp, every movement of your hand beneath her dress. You curse quietly.

"Goddammit."

"This was your idea", she says, adjusting her dress and smoothing it out. "Have fun dealing with him."

You roll your eyes and kiss her flushed cheek. Natasha's managed to go from looking wrecked to almost normal. Her lipstick is smudged, her hair a tad more disheveled, her cheeks still got a hint of color in them, but nobody would suspect that it's from anything other than a makeout-session.

Well, except for whoever checks the security cameras. You bite your lip when you realize just how much they'll see.

It's an odd feeling. Yes, they'll see way too much — but they'll also see you with her.

Natasha fixes her lipstick, wipes the smudges off your mouth with a napkin, then you return to the party. Of course, almost nobody noticed. They're too caught up in chatter and alcohol. Fury looks like he's about two minutes away from exploding. You can't blame the poor guy; he's surrounded by a bunch of drunk agents trying to get him to dance the Cha Cha Slide.

Valerie's ignoring you, but in that one way that lets you know she's trying her hardest to do so. She knocks back another shot, her jaw set.

You smile to yourself and let Natasha lead you further into the room. Once you've reached the middle, she wraps her arms around your neck and presses a quick kiss to your swollen lips.

"Round two in my office later?"

"Don't you dare", she murmurs.

"Shame."

The look on her face is unimpressed, but her lips twitch. You hug her closer to your chest, still swaying in spot. You dip your head and kiss her shoulder.

"Let me show you off", you mumble, running your hands over her back. Natasha smiles now, her face buried against your neck.

"You are, dumbass."

You hum. You can't argue, you are showing her off. You pulled her into the center of the room, the center of the universe, and pulled her into a slow dance that probably would've had her running a few years ago.

Her head tilts slightly, resting against your shoulder. She stays silent for a while, lost in everything happening around her.

The party, now a bit more quiet. The music, having changed to a slower rhythm. You, holding her.

The contrast between the thing in the hallway and the dance here is drastic enough to give her whiplash. But she's content, happy, silently and quietly. She's unlike you in that regard — no need to make a big scene of it. Keep things as lowkey as possible. Not everyone needs to know.

(Two days later, you get called into Fury's office because the person checking the security camera footage complained about emotional damage. You get banned from the hallways. Natasha's belief to keep things private is reinforced. All you hear is that your office is still an option.)

. . .

You're on the floor, cross-legged, Natasha's suit on the ground. A lightweight Kevlar blend you designed, adjusting to every movement. You straighten out the fabric and check for damage.

"The side is singed", you comment. "An explosion?"

"You don't want to know."

You shake your head and get up. Natasha unzips her jacket and peels it off, the tight fabric revealing creamy skin you're definitely not supposed to be staring at.

Her pants follow, then her shirt. You crouch in front of her and help her step into the lower half. You tug the fabric over her legs, smoothing it out as you go.

It's been a while since you started doing this. You should be used to it. But your hands brush her calves, her thighs, and your ears burn.

"Cold hands", Natasha comments.

"Stop squirming."

"Can't blame me, your hands are very cold."

You look up, jaw set. "Just...don't move."

She smirks as she lets you help peel the fabric over her arms. You grab the zipper and pull it up, slowly straightening up as you go.

When you're face to face and you've got her all zipped up, you don't let go. Natasha hums, watching you. You hesitate one last time — the quicker you're done, the sooner she's leaving for her mission. Again.

"You're staring", she mumbles. You let go and turn around, leading her into the weapons storage room. Tight quarters, as you barely fit in there together. But you make it work.

"I should be used to this", you admit, scanning the shelves. Natasha reaches over you to grab a gun, her front brushing your back. "But I'm not."

"Neither am I."

You grab her Widow's Bites and a couple blades. You turn around and fit the bracelets with an automatic look. Then you kneel in front of her, slide her belt into place, adjust it accordingly. The thigh straps follow — lord have mercy — and you tuck her weapons in. You tap each of the concealed items: the blades along her ribs, the guns, the taser.

Natasha brushes her fingers through your hair and makes you look up. She crouches, breathing more heavily, her lips right in front of yours. You smell perfume and gunpowder, leather and shampoo, cleaning solvents. Her breath is hot against your lips when she speaks.

"Blades are lighter."

"Shaved an ounce off", you mumble, blinking. "Makes it easier."

"Always thinking about everything", she replies. Her lips meet yours halfway and she kisses you with her fingers tangled in your hair. You grab her waist and keep her close, knees still on the ground, head tipped back slightly. It's warm, slow, enough to make you wish you could cancel the damn mission.

She pulls away. You clear your throat.

"I'm keeping an eye on Valerie."

"Oh no, you're not."

"She doesn't have a clue what she's doing", you say, getting up. Natasha sighs. "You got shot!"

"Her responsibility is to support me as best as she can and focus on the mission. She's not my babysitter, Y/N."

She turns around and picks up a scope. You narrow your eyes, silently trying to both find an argument and figure out whether you designed the gadget she grabbed. It's not the matte black one you handed to her a couple months ago. It's more clunky, less practical, the magnification range is probably less optimal as well.

She turns, the scope in her hands, and looks at you. You raise your eyebrows.

"You're sure that's the one you want?"

Natasha tilts her head, idly toying with the scope she's holding. "What's wrong with this one?"

You frown, irritated, and gesture at it. "Well, first of all, the magnification range is not nearly as good. Its system is also outdated. The reticle doesn't auto-adjust, which means that if the light conditions are less than optimal, you'll suffer from it. The thermal and night vision are also pathetic. I tested it, and it's no good."

"Sounds fine to me", she drawls. You narrow your eyes.

"Babe", you say, already turning around to grab the scope you personally designed from the shelf, "I spent half a year tinkering with this. I burnt my fingertips off twice."

"Appreciate the dedication", she says. You swap the scope out yourself, not breaking eye contact. "And the confidence, too."

"I mean it. This one's better. Ergonomic, biometric lock, the casing is great, and the internal shock buffers? Even Fury was impressed."

"You sound in love."

You bite back an 'I am', because she knows you are. Not with the damn scope, though. The scope is the result of being in love, and she knows it. But that's no reason to make her even more cocky.

You nudge her out of the storage room and lock it behind you. Safety measure — no need for anyone to get into her private stash. Even Fury needs permission, but in a less official way.

Natasha leans against the wall and watches you clean up. You wipe the workbench with a towel, arms flexing in a way that makes her wonder why you aren't joining. You fit in, she knows that already.

Then again, it'd make her job even more terrifying. She'd spent every second worrying about you.

"Five minutes", she reminds you.

"Right", you mumble. "Be careful. Make sure Valerie's doing her job or I'm doing it for her next time."

She wants to argue that you have no idea what it's like on the field. How dangerous it is, how much it differs from what you do every day. But you have been on the field before, years ago, when you were just starting out. Your talent has always been weapons and everything high tech, but when you got injured, you had no choice but to switch to what you're doing now.

You're good at it. Better than at field work. But she knows you sometimes miss it. Specifically those few months you got to spend alongside her, right after you met and before everything turned more intimate.

You can't protect her by being there anymore. But you can design tools that will make her job safer.

"I have your scope", she says, voice softer. "I'll be fine."

You can't help but preen at her words. You've been praised for your inventions many times, but it's only her opinion that really counts. When she says something, she means it.

"Be careful", you say. "The scope's good, but..."

"But it all boils down to the person using it", she finishes, grabbing her duffel bag. "I'll be fine."

"I know."

"Good."

"We'll stay in touch?"

Natasha steps closer to kiss you. It's fleeting, brief, and you know why. Quick goodbyes leave dry eyes. She'll be back soon, but what she does is risky, and you're never not scared that any goodbye could be your last one.

She steps out. You've watch her leave.

. . .

This time, you don't have to wait that long to see her.

Something goes wrong during the mission. Not horribly wrong — there are no accidents, no injuries, which is a relief. But one of the prototypes, a crucial one, malfunctions in the field. It's so tailored that nobody else can fix it, and since you're the one who designed and understands it, you're flown out.

The helicopter touches down in a remote area of the Catskills. You adjust your suit before jumping out and landing on thick grass. The forest is cold, the area foggy. Leaves that were once green have started to turn red. You exhale quietly.

A winding pathway leads to a small cabin. The exterior is hardly impressive, but the inside hides an entire bunker and an underground facility. Clutching your duffel bag, you walk towards the front door.

You're welcomed by a man in his 30s. Hair already graying, jeans, a flannel shirt. He stares at you and you stare at him. You can smell his stupid cologne.

"Want to let me in?"

"Who the fuck-"

"It's Y/N", a familiar voice says. Natasha. You can hear her from somewhere in the cabin. "Let her in."

"Oh", he says, stepping aside. "Right. The girlfriend. They told us you'd come by."

You push past him, not saying another word, and make your way into the cabin. Natasha emerges from downstairs, her hand on the railing. Her hair is curly and tied back, and she's wearing one of your old band hoodies. The sight is enough to let you forget about Mr. Wannabe-Lumberjack.

You meet her halfway. She hesitates, then decides it's worth it and leans in. You reciprocate the kiss and cup her cheek. She tastes like black coffee. It's way too short, but you can't really complain — you feel like you're being watched, whether that's actually true or not.

"Who's the guy?", you ask, following her into the lab.

"Agent Mintz", she says. "Formerly a lieutenant in the US army. Did you bring your little toolbox?"

"Little", you mutter, lifting the toolbox to test its weight. "This thing weighs 30 pounds. Lieutenant, you said?"

She flicks on a light and leads you to a workbench. You haul the toolbox up onto the top and open it. Natasha slides the prototype, a combat neural link, in front of you. You jack a tether into the side port and hook it up to a tablet to diagnose the problem.

"Tried to guess my body fat percentage", she says casually, right as you're running a scan. You pause. "He was off by one percent.”

You exhale, your fingers drumming against the surface of the workbench. "Of course."

"Very observant."

"Mhm", you mutter, looking at the data on the tablet. The prototype is desynced — her muscle memory has been outpacing the link's adaption rate. "Sounds like a great dude."

"He designs tech as well", she says, leaning on the workbench next to you. Her head is turned toward you, her voice softer and more sultry. "You know the GhostSuit?"

You bite your tongue and straighten up to brush Natasha's hair aside. "Hoodie off."

She hums and strips so you can access the link housing. You rearrange the central circuit array with tweezers and a soldering pen. You curse when your hand accidentally jerks.

"Burned your fingers again?"

"Crap", you hiss, shaking your hand. "What's this Mintz dude's issue, anyway?"

"Hm?"

"I mean, your body fat percentage? Is he kidding?"

"Pretty sure he wasn't."

Footsteps, on the staircase behind you. You whip around and glare. You should've expected it to be him — there's nobody else around — but his presence is still an unpleasant reminder that you aren't alone.

Arms crossed and tattoos showing, he leans against the railing and nods at Natasha. "Combat neural link?"

"Very much so."

"I designed it", you mutter, starting to re-upload the stored neural combat data. "Specifically tailored for her."

"Of course", he says, grinning. "Only the best for Ms. Romanoff."

You roll your eyes and plug in a thumb drive. Your hands brush over her shoulders.

"There", you say, ignoring Mintz's presence. "Want to test it a little? Just some quick movements."

Natasha nods, the neural link facing you. It's nothing huge, just a few kicks and balance shifts, but the prototype's lights glow smoothly again.

Agent Mintz raises his eyebrows. He steps closer, inspecting the little device, and almost runs his fingers over it.

You stare at the floor. You're not going to do anything — Natasha will break the guy's wrist if he crosses a line, and you stepping in would be unnecessary. You turn around and start to put your stuff back into the toolbox.

"Impressive", he says. "Doesn't take away from your beauty, either."

An explosion makes them both flinch. You give Natasha an innocent look and gesture at the test grenade that 'accidentally' rolled off the workbench, now on the floor and releasing smoke.

"Oops."

Natasha purses her lips to stop herself from smiling. Mintz just clenches his jaw, clears his throat, and steps aside.

"Alright", he says. "I'll see you later."

He leaves, but you don't turn around. You keep cleaning up, hands moving swiftly, until you feel her mouth right next to your ear.

"What was that?"

"Nothing", you say, closing the toolbox. Natasha's hands sneak under your zip-up hoodie, fingers digging into your abs. "Happy accident or whatever."

"You're not slick."

Your mouth opens and then promptly shuts again. Her lips are against your jaw, the kisses wet and warm. It's only been a couple days, but god, you missed this. Your bed's too empty when she's not around.

Instead of arguing, you let yourself melt. Even if just for a minute, you do. Her body's pressed up against yours, her touch familiar. She smells like your perfume, which confirms your suspicions that she's the one who grabbed it from the shelf in your bathroom.

The tech, the clothes, the perfume — all yours. You wonder if there's a part of her she hasn't claimed as yours yet.

She turns you to face her, her hands staying under your hoodie. Only then does she wrap her arms around your neck and pull you closer to kiss you. You hold her to you, nodding your head to deepen the kiss. Her heart beats faster, and so does yours, but you have a significant advantage — you're not attached to a link with stress-response sensors.

The tablet lights up. You glance at it, briefly pulling away from the kiss, and bite back a smirk. The device logged her rapidly accelerating heartbeat, her changing vitals.

"You know it records this stuff, right?", you mumble. "Heart rate, adrenaline spikes. Practically broadcasting your- ouch."

"Don't."

"You didn't have to twist my ear like that, you know."

Natasha laughs quietly, her lips brushing against yours. She doesn't feel sorry. Not at all. "That's what you get for embarrassing me."

"I'm not the one embarrassing you", you murmur, smiling, and kiss the corner of her mouth. She hums. "The device is."

"And who designed that device?"

You shake your head, but she cups your face and pulls you into another kiss. When the neural link sends another signal, she reaches behind her neck and tugs it off. It gives you enough time to grab her and spin around to set her down on the workbench.

Her thighs wrap around your waist. You mouth at her neck, hands slowly bunching up her hoodie around her torso. Slender fingers tangle in your hair, tug at the strands, and you move your lips back up to hers. She moans into your mouth.

"You do that one purpose", you mumble whenever you take a short break from kissing her stupid. Natasha hums against your lips. "To get a rise out of me."

"It works", she says, using her calves to pull you closer and closer. Your pelvis creates friction between her legs. "I wish I could put one of those neural links in you. See what your body does."

"Cruel", you mutter, pecking her lips. Your hand pushes past the waistband of her sweatpants. Her breathing gets heavier. "You already know what it'd say."

Your fingers find their target. You kiss down her neck, biting and nipping, and slowly thrust into her. Right as her hips buck against your hand, you hear someone hurry down the stairs.

You don't even flinch. You just sigh into her neck, hand still buried in her sweatpants. You're not stopping this unless someone's dying.

"What now?"

Mintz stares at you, frozen in place. He's uncomfortable, so much so that he keeps making himself even more uncomfortable by staring. Natasha bites her lips and grabs your wrist, guiding you out of her pants again.

"There's, uh, movement. We got ten minutes. Suit up."

You sigh and pull away. Natasha slides off the workbench and grabs the neural link again so you can attach it. You work fast, brushing hair aside and attaching it to the link housing again. She turns and reaches for her suit, and you pack your things.

She looks at you and hesitates. The injury, the accident, is still fresh in her mind. It may have been years since that happened, but she can't forget it that easily.

Blood on pavement, in your mouth. Coughs that sounded way too scary. Your hand shaking in hers, your entire body trembling.

You tilt your head. She's thinking, probably so much so that she's lost in whatever train of thought she's following. Natasha shakes her head when she realizes that she's gone quiet.

"It's fine."

You nod and look at Mintz. "Keep an eye on her and the neural link. She shouldn't go out with it untested in live combat, but it's a little late for that."

He shrugs, rubbing his jaw and starting to look for his gear. "Then go with her."

Natasha immediately looks at him. "What?"

"Yeah. Hell, no one knows how to fix that thing. Only she does. If shit goes sideways..."

"It won't", she interrupts him. "She knows what she's doing. The link is fine."

"Nat", you say, making her look at you. She blinks and averts her eyes again. "Hey. I'll be careful. Besides, it might be safer if I join."

"I don't want you out there."

"Well, too late." You walk up to the storage space with the suits and dig through heaps of old clothes. "Better be safe than sorry."

"Trust us", Agent Mintz says. He straps a knife to his thigh and adjusts his suit. Natasha shoots him a glare, her own suit zipped up halfway. "I've got overwatch. But if something happens with the link-"

"Nothing's going to happen", Natasha insists.

You reach for a vest and slip into it. "Don't be stubborn, baby. Doesn't even look good on you."

"This isn't a joke."

"Never said it was." You step closer to zip up her suit. She briefly closes her eyes. "Let me help you suit up. It's basically tradition."

She doesn't say anything as you step away again to swap your shoes for some combat boots. You reach out your hand, the set to her jaw cracks for a split second, and you lead her up the stairs and outside.

. . .

Natasha notices the neural link misfire when she gets out of the van.

Minutes ago, you were adjusting it. You brushed her hair aside, checked the prototype, made sure it's up to date and connected to your tablet. You seemed certain. You were, probably, otherwise you never would've let her out of the vehicle. The mission may be important, but she knows you'd never test her luck like that.

She jumps out of the van and approaches the building. SHIELD's abandoned black site, sitting in the middle of the forest. Not something they thought would be targeted, but ex-HYDRA agents found out about some data drive that was apparently forgotten her, and now they're trying to steal it.

As soon as she sneaks into a corridor, walking close to the wall, she notices an issue. She doesn't tell you anything, but she feels it. She feels it misfire in motion, feels the little glitch. It's not supposed to happen, and she knows it.

Too late now. There's not enough time to be running back to the van and get it fixed.

"You inside?", you ask via comms.

"Corridor on the east side of the building, approaching a staircase. Any news?"

"Copy. Sir Lieutenant is in position. Do they train them in the army for this kind of stuff?"

"No", he suddenly speaks. "We usually just die."

"Oh really? And you're still here?"

"Y/N, I am begging you", Natasha hisses. You shut your mouth. "Focus. Both of you."

"Sorry, babe.”

Your mumbled response would've been enough to make her smile in just about any other situation, but right now, she's too on edge to react. The neural link glitching, the shuffling noises, the fact that you're outside, in a van and basically alone.

She keeps her back pressed against the wall. Mintz mumbles instructions into her ear — go left, down the hallway, go right, down the stairs — and you're checking the neural link's feedback via your tablet.

Someone pops out from behind a staircase. Natasha, not having to think twice, ducks right as he shoots. It's combat, and she knows what shes doing. She's been trained for this. The neural link usually helps, too.

This time, it doesn't. What it does is worse than it not helping.

Right as she's about to kick him and twist the gun out of his hands, her shoulder locks. The neural link misfires, again, lasting only a split second but still long enough to almost get her shot. She curses quietly.

You stare at the tablet, unable to believe your eyes for a moment. You're not sure what happened, but very briefly, everything glitched and you lost signal. Now that it's back, though, Natasha's vitals have spiked.

Which doesn't have to mean the worst, obviously. The vitals spiking is normal, especially during missions. But the glitch? The signal going poof? Bad signs.

"Natasha", you say, already desperately tapping on the screen to see if you can do anything, "what happened?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it. I found the vault."

"Okay", you say, packing your stuff and hopping out of the van. Into the corridor, go left, down the hallway, etc. Thank god you listened to Mintz as he gave her the instructions. "Be careful."

"I said don't worry."

"You said don't worry about it", you mutter. A gun in one hand and your most important tools in the other, you're easy meat. "What do you see?"

"Desks", she says, eyes scanning her surroundings. "Computers. Deposit boxes."

The signal is lost for another short moment, making her voice sound chopped. The feedback displays another glitch. Your heart beats faster and you hurry up.

"Right. Column five, row ten", Mintz adds. "Iris scan, ten digit password and a keycard. You got everything?"

No sound comes through. Then, a grunt. Something breaks, possibly a chair or a table. Whatever it is — it has you speeding up, running, searching for the stupid vault. But you reach it and the door is locked.

You glance at the screen. Bleeding located.

"Nat?", you say, rummaging through your tools. Maybe you have something that'll help you unlock it. "Any updates?"

Again, nothing. You curse and grab a hairpin, but this is SHIELD's abandoned black site. The doors are designed to keep trespassers out.

You end up grabbing the little grenade you packed. It's tiny, usually only enough to take out one person, but it'll have to do. You attach it to the door, active it, and quickly move backwards.

It blinks three times. It explodes, the door bursting open, and you exhale and run into the vault.

Blood, and a lot of it. It's soaked the right side of her shoulder. Right as you move to help her, someone wraps their arm around your neck and squeezes. You gasp, choking, and start clawing at their forearm.

Natasha barely manages to move enough to point her gun and shoot. The pressure on your airways disappears and you fall to the floor, wheezing and gasping for breath. You crawl to her side and put both hands on the bullet wound in her shoulder. Thick blood seeps between your fingers, and you take off your vest to ball it up and use it to stop the bleeding.

"You're okay", you say, voice shaky. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She shakes her head. "Get the data drive."

"No", you say, keeping the vest pressed to her shoulder. You speak into the comms. "Mintz, you there?"

"What happened?"

You swallow, fingers digging into the fabric of the vest. "The neural link, it- it glitched. Misfired. Natasha got shot."

"On my way."

You nod, still putting your entire weight on the wound, still watching her every breath. She seems stable enough, but speaking from experience, it's not a good idea to rely on the hope of something happening.

There are two things you're thinking about.

One: she could die. Right here, right now.

Two: you designed the neural link. You 'fixed' it. If anything happens to her, it's your fault.

Earning her trust seemed to be the biggest honor once. None of your achievements seemed as valuable as getting someone like Natasha to trust you, getting to watch her open up and show you sides nobody else had ever seen. In that moment, however, you curse it. If she'd never trusted you, she wouldn't have worn the neural link. She wouldn't have gotten hurt.

. . .

It's quiet in medbay. Natasha's better now — the wound has been treated, the bleeding has been stopped, she's stable. But the heavy feeling in your gut remains.

She's asleep right now. Her cheeks are rosy instead of pale, her curls have flattened a little. You reach out and brush your fingers against her jaw, then you get up.

The neural link has been in your pocket ever since you got her to medbay. It's sitting there like a mass that's pulling you down, defying the laws of weight.

You reach into your pocket and pull it out. The surface shimmers in the dimmed lights of the room, your initials carved into the side. You ball your hand into a fist, clutching it, then leave the room. Natasha barely stirs.

Your steps are quick and filled with silent anger. Boots thud against vinyl flooring, your throat bobs with every despaired swallow. You push open the door to your lab and slam it shut behind you.

You reach for the hammer before you can think twice. The neural link shatters into tiny pieces, bursting to the sides and falling to the floor. Breathing heavily, you put the hammer aside. Then, the tears come.

They're silent, unthreatening. Rolling down your face in drops, staining your hoodie. You wipe them away with the back of your hand and pause, hand still against your face, when your phone buzzes.

It's the nurse, telling you she woke up and asked for you. You hesitate — do you want to go back there? Does she, despite asking for you, actually want you back there?

It was a mistake. It could've happened to anyone. But when Valerie made a mistake that got her shot, you lost your mind. But who's going to do that to you? Who's going to chew you out?

Nobody. Not even Natasha. You'll get away with it.

Sighing, you make your way out of the lab and back to medbay. It smells clinical, like disinfectant and cleansing chemicals. Metallic, too. You feel nauseous.

When you approach Natasha's room, you see a figure enter and close the door behind themselves. Heart starting to beat faster, you hurry up. You push open the door only to find Valerie standing next to her bed. That's when you lose it.

"Get the fuck out."

She barely even looks at you. "I'm just checking in on her. Making sure she's okay. Heard what happened."

"I said get out."

"Valerie, leave."

Both your and Valerie's heads whip around. Your first instinct is to be petty and make sure she knows it, but Natasha is injured, and you truthfully have other things to worry about.

She exhales sharply, then turns around and leaves. The door shuts loudly.

Natasha looks at you, not saying anything. She's studying you — you can tell that much. It's what she's always done. You shift, then hesitantly sit down on the edge of her bed.

She tilts her head. A soft breath leaves her lips. "Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?"

"You broke the neural link."

You blink a few times. Oh, so that's how observant she truly is. Or maybe she just knows you really well.

"Well, I...", you trail off. "It's useless anyway."

"No", she says, voice quiet. "You spent months working on it. It worked."

"It didn't. It's the reason you almost..." You rub your face. "You could've died, Nat. Because of me."

"That's not true."

"But it is."

"That thing helped me", she insists. "I wore it because I trust you. Because I love you. And you just broke it?"

You stare at the floor, jaw set. There's no way to explain what's going on in your head. All these years, you tried to be the one who protects the one person who claims she doesn't need protection. The one who protects everyone around herself — you, too.

When you got injured all those years ago, it was Natasha who got you out of the battlefield safely. She carried you to the field medics, she went to medbay with you. She stayed until you were better.

You would've kissed her. Neither of you were ready, though. But she was worth the wait.

"I fixed it", you say, glancing at her. She softens. "I tried to fix it. I swear. I don't know what went wrong."

"Accidents happen."

"Not like this", you reply, raking your fingers over your thigh. The denim feels overstimulating against your fingernails. "Not to me. Not when it comes to you. Valerie makes mistakes, and Mintz, and Ward, but-"

"And you're flawless? Perfect?"

You shut your mouth. No, you're neither of those things.

"If I were, you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

Natasha scoffs. You refuse to look at her, so she shifts in bed despite knowing she shouldn't. It's a plan, though — a plan that works. You quickly lift your head.

"Don't even try", you say, already trying to gently nudge her back into bed. She smiles and you know what she's done. "Oh, fuck me."

"Not while I'm injured."

You roll your eyes, but what she's doing seems to work. You smile, one hand still on her waist and thumb rubbing circles into her side. She flops into the pillows again, a tad more dramatic than others would expect her to do it.

"It was supposed to help", you say softly. "I wanted it to be safer for you. Easier. It almost got you killed instead."

Natasha hums. "You're right", she says. "It did. But how many times did it save me?"

"That's not important."

"Oh, but it is. And I'm not just talking about the neural link. You've invented a dozen of these nifty little things, and how many times were those faulty?"

You shift, refusing to answer. You could say it — never. They were never faulty, never malfunctioned so badly. Sure, there were some issues and minor problems every now and then, but Natasha was always able to keep going despite those. This was a one time thing. An unlucky coincidence.

You feel her fingertips trail down your back. You sigh and then smile tentatively. "Alright. Fine. You got me."

She stays silent for a moment, her fingers glued to your back for no specific reason. She's touching you, and that's enough.

"You didn't invent your way into my life, you know."

You look at her, frowning. Those are words you didn't expect. "No?"

"No." Her fingers drum against your spine. "The gadgets are great. Truly. But they're not the main appeal here, and they never were."

"It's just..." You swallow. "You saved me. It's like, I don't know."

"A debt?"

"Maybe."

Natasha doesn't say anything. She just moves her hand, reaching for yours. When you give it to her, she tugs you into her side.

You know she's being serious. She doesn't need the gadgets. You'll keep inventing them, anyway.

. . .

There's a bandage around her shoulder and a tiny bandaid above her eyebrow, but she's still attracting attention from everyone in the room. You know she is. She always does. You pull her into your side and lead her through the hallway.

"They're staring", you mutter, gently squeezing her upper arm.

"I wonder why."

"You're beaten up and they're still staring." You enter your lab and walk right towards the little couch in the corner. Natasha sits down without arguing, which is a miracle. Getting her to do just about anything that'd be beneficial for her injuries is like fighting a very stubborn bear.

She shifts until she's comfortable, her injured arm resting on a pillow you tuck against her side. "So?"

"Nothing", you say evasively, closing the door now. You're pretty sure no one's going to come by anyway, but you're not keen on taking that risk right now. "Need anything? Water, a granola bar?"

"I'm good." She tilts her head. "You gonna keep me locked in here until they stop staring?"

Hand around a water bottle, you pause. You're crouched in front of the mini fridge.

"Well..."

"Oh god."

"I'm kidding."

She laughs and, despite saying no earlier, accepts the water bottle you hand her. "Hey, at least feel sorry Valerie quit."

"Feel sorry?" You snort and step up to your workbench. You grab the new neural link you've been working on and the stack of data necessary to program it so you can get to work. "I don't do that."

"No, of course." She leans back and watches you work. You adjust wires, program the link using your tablet, test it a few times.

It took two days for you to get up and get started on another neural link. You've barely been sleeping, and Natasha knows that's the case, but you're relentless. Having experience with this prototype, creating an updated, better one hasn't been hard. That doesn't make the process less painful, though. You've burnt your fingertips again already.

"I'm relieved, you know", you mumble.

"Mhm?"

"Valerie really was incompetent."

The cap of the water bottle hits you in the back. But she's smiling, trying not to laugh, and you turn around.

"I mean it."

"She's not even here anymore", she says. "Dial down the jealousy."

"It's not jealousy, it's me disliking her."

"And why do you dislike her? Because you're jealous."

You walk up to the couch and sit down. Hands cup her face, fingertips burnt and wrapped into little bandaids so they'd hurt less, and your breath fans against her lips. You lean in and kiss her, but briefly enough to leave you both wanting more.

She sighs, eyes lazily trailing across your face. "That's not an answer."

"I'm not in the mood to argue. I need to work on your new neural link."

"Better not make any mistakes this time."

You give her an unimpressed look like, Really? You know how much that destroyed me. But she just smiles and tugs you closer.

"I told you I trust you", she says. You roll your eyes. "Don't give me that look, or I'll start using someone else's scope."

"Oh, don't even-"

"Kidding", she cuts you off. "Again."

You narrow your eyes at her. But with the bandaid over her eyebrow, and her bandaged shoulder, you can't be too mad. You sigh and press a kiss to her mouth, your hand on her cheek. She smiles against your lips, hand resting on yours, fingers tangling with yours.

"You're beautiful, you know", you mumble, placing another kiss on her mouth. "No wonder they're all staring. Can't blame them."

"Mhm? Beautiful, you say?"

"So so beautiful." You run your hand down her arm and lightly squeeze her wrist. "It's not fair. You're all beaten up and you still look like you escaped some frame in a museum."

Natasha huffs a laugh. Her forehead rests against yours, her thumb brushes against the side of your hand. You scoot closer and the cushion dips slightly beneath you. She rests one leg over your lap.

"Not jealous anymore?"

"Oh, fucking mental", you say, nodding. "But Valerie's gone, so that helps."

"Terrible."

"Honest."

She scoots and ends up fully in your lap, her weight welcome and familiar. You wouldn't be able to guess her body fat percentage (that detail still leaves you stunned whenever you think about it), but you don't need to see or hear her to recognize her.

Your hand trails down her side and slips under her hoodie. She's warm, her body nestled against yours.

She smiles and nods at the workbench. The neural link lays abandoned, at least for the time being.

"You're stalling again."

"No", you mumble, kissing her shoulder. "Just taking my time."