small-town-wayward-daughter - Tumblr blog

small-town-wayward-daughter · 3 months

Text

yellow | steve harrington x reader

summary you're Dustin's older sister, you used to go out with Steve, but the distance broke you off, you're back in Hopkins, for good, and destiny makes you bump into eachother. (3.9k)

warnings fem!reader, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn exes! to lovers, idiots in love!!!, mentions of alcohol use, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!

“Since when do you own this?” Dustin asked as he pulled a yellow crewneck out of one of the boxes.

“Oh, uh…” You hadn’t seen it in a while. It fell on your hands as Dustin gave it to you, the softness of the fabric still holds a reminder of his cologne. “It’s not mine, it’s Steve’s.”

He grew quiet for a second, looking at you intensely. They were still friends, Steve had seen him grow up, and was close to him, almost like a brother, and when you broke things off, you begged him to not leave him. He kept his promise, he always did.

“Sorry.” He muttered, an apologetic look stayed on his face even when he stopped looking at you, you shook your head. He didn’t need to apologise, not to you anyway.

“How is he?” The curiosity always took the best of you, and you had left quite some time ago, not really thinking about him. Running away so you wouldn’t have to think about a broken heart.

“I haven’t told him that you came back home.” Your little brother blurted out, with a grin on his face, letting you know he is really glad that you’re actually back, his way of telling you he’d missed you. “He’s doing good. He’s working, and he went back to studying… He’s happy.” He smiled back at you, seeing how your face was no longer expressing grief or melancholy, but a pleasant smile.

You were unsure of a lot of things, but one thing that you were certain of, he deserves all of the happiness in the world.

“That’s nice to know.” Your attention went back to the sweater. The coldness of the night he left it to you seemed to reach your fingertips, and the warmth of the memory reached your gut, butterflies that you thought dead flew for a second. “You should give it back to him.” You added, lifting your head up to look at him.

“You sure?” Even if he was the youngest, he always treated you in such a delicate manner, it made you softer, you had missed him.

“Yeah, it’s been long enough.” You chuckled as you said it, and he nodded along. You hadn’t been home in years, hadn’t seen him in two of those.

“I’m meeting him in a bit, I can give it to him then.” You nod, and he mouths a soft okey before leaving the room.

You had a moment, for the first time since you had arrived back home, where you were alone. No music, no noise, no one else with you.

You left so you could go to college, that was your excuse. Then he broke up with you, the distance only exposed other problems, in both of you. When you did break up, he told you that he still loved you, but it wasn’t enough.

The echo of his words still with you, it isn’t enough, am i not enough?

The sweetness of his voice shocked with his broken tone, tears fell from his eyes when he said goodbye. That was the last weekend you came down, and you had been avoiding coming back ever since.

The walls of your room were empty, the new coat of paint now dry, half full boxes of clothes and shoes and memorabilia were scattered around the floor, the bed half done, the cover still having to be put. It seemed like a new beginning, a new chance for yourself.

Not a lot of people knew you were back. Dustin knew, of course. It had been funny seeing him finally drive, his hands still a bit insecure behind the wheel, but he looked so happy being able to pick his sister from the airport, it had made you beam with happiness when you saw him.

And you had called Eddie as soon as you woke up today. He was ecstatic, begging you to come to a party tonight, telling you that he’d come pick you up as soon as his shift at the garage was done. You knew he’d missed you, even if he’d come often to the city, and vent over everything he had going on. Avoiding to bring him up, even if you did.

So you laid down on your floor, staring at the same ceiling you did as you grew up in that same house.

Before you were aware of what you were doing, or why, a pen rested on your hand, scribbling down on a piece of paper.

Hey, I’m sorry it took this long to give it back, guess I wasn’t ready to let you go. Maybe I’ll never be. I hope you’re happy, and that you have everything you deserve. I’m also sorry if it stinks of me, it has been with me for a while now. Bye.

PS. Don’t be a stranger. I’m here if you need me.

You signed it, and folded it one too many times before dropping it inside the little bag that had his sweater in it, the green clashing with the yellow fabric.

Dustin grabbed it before he left, you smiled when you heard that his car sounded the same.

Loud music, sweaty people and colorful lights.

Your drink was empty, it had been for a while.

Eddie smiled while he danced and took a sip of his drink, happy that you’re finally back, his head swinging back and forth. His attention was split, between you and an unknown blonde girl that was on the bar. You smiled when you caught her staring.

“You’ve got a fan Edds.” You chuckled as you teased him. Raising your voice so he could hear you.

“Who?”

“The blonde”

“I don’t think that’ll work.” He laughed, his shyness coming in as it always did when the attention was on him.

“I think it will if you actually go talk to her… buy her a drink?” You shake your head in her direction, he knows you’re actually telling him it’s okay, you can go, i’m okay.

“Sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll go to the other bar and get a drink, wait for you there.” He nodded, and you smiled as you saw him blush.

He looked back at her, he rubbed his chin in a nervous manner, before actually walking over to her. You laughed at him, smiling deeply seeing your friend acting the same he always had.

As you shook your head to yourself, stifling another laugh you left him on his own, Eddie flirted better when you weren’t around anyway. You started walking to the other bar area, the only problem, you had to find your way through the dance floor before you could reach it. You looked at the people there, all of them dancing mindlessly, some couples that had been formed, kissing or dancing together -it always made you smile, seeing people loving each other, publicly, without fear- and some doing what you were doing, looking around while downing their drink.

You were halfway through, when you saw him.

Everything else became fuzzy, the only clear image in your vision was him, wearing the yellow sweater.

Steve saw you too.

And time seemed to stop for a moment, and before it started again, there was a few seconds of slow motion. His hair flicking to the beat of the music, as his lips curved upwards at the sight of you, his eyes softening. He’d missed seeing you. He looks the same he did. You thought, though taller, broader, happier.

Before you knew it, you were face to face.

You didn’t say anything. You just looked at each other. Years of not seeing him, of avoiding him, it all didn’t matter now. His smile had the same effect on you as it always had, melting you on the spot. He broke the distance, and his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in close for a hug, your arms laying behind his neck, your fingers stroking his hair.

I miss you.

“Hi.” Steve whispered into your ear. An excited but yet calm tone could be heard in his tone.

“Hi.” You whispered back, holding on to him for a second longer before pulling back.

“Dustin told me you came back.” He raised his voice now that your head was no longer close to him. “I didn’t think I’d see you today.”

“I can tell.” You joked, as you grabbed his sweater, and you saw him chuckle in response.

“D’you wanna go out? And talk?” He pointed at where the exit was. Of course you wanted to, you almost felt like you needed to. Hear his voice for once, not just remember it.

As soon as you nodded, he started to head out, grabbing your hand as he passed in front of you. The same tingling feeling comes back to you, as if it was the first time you went on a date with him. The excited nervousness, the hopefulness, the wishing.

Cold air hitted your chest, even if it was an unseasonably warm night, you blamed the alcohol because anything else would be too confusing, and you were really trying to not get too much into your head. Not now, when he was standing against the wall and his pretty brown eyes were fixed deep into yours.

“So, how have you been?” He broke the silence, and the moment of admiration between the both of you.

“Good.” You smile shyly to yourself. “I’ve been good.”

“How did the big city treat you?”

“Chicago is… Interesting.” You chuckled, as you scratched your forehead. He knew that was your anxious tick, the way you had when you had too many thoughts swimming around inside your mind. “Uh… You’d hate deep dish pizza.”

He laughed, and the little butterfly hidden in your stomach came alive again. Warmness and goosebumps on your skin.

“I did hate it.” He recalls, looking up for a moment, the street lights shining on him. He looks like a statue, you thought, unaware of how pretty he is.

“When did you try it?”

“I was waiting for one of your classes to end, got hungry and saw a little place that was selling them, disgusting.” He shook his head in a funny manner, it made you giggle, so he did it again, wanting to hear you again.

“I ended up liking it, y’know.”

“Of course you did.” He teased, a finger poking your cheek, your face leaning into his touch.

“You get used to it.” You shrugged, your hand reaching for your purse, searching for the pack of Marlboros you knew you had.

“You’re good at that.” He grinned as his eyes became softer, he couldn’t stop looking you up and down. “You’re good at everything.”

“‘M not.” You laughed as you took a cigarette out, placing it between your lips. “I still can’t cook as good as you can.”

“You miss my cooking?” He raised his eyebrows as he asked, a cheeky grin on his lips.

“I dream about those meatballs you made.” You confessed, trying to hide your truthfulness with a giggle, that he saw through. His head tilted back for a moment, as his Adam's apple moved as he sifted a laugh.

“D’you remember when I tried to teach you how to make Napolitanian pizza from scratch?” You started to laugh at the memory, failing to light your cigarette, hiding your face on the palm of your hand.

His heart started to beat again, louder, stronger, faster. If you weren’t too busy trying to quiet yours down, you’d hear it.

“God… I ended up covered in flour.”

“Your hair was all white.” His tone softented, as did his eyes. His body seemed to be closer to yours, itching for contact. “I missed that laugh.” He finally confessed, even if the thought had been on his mind since he first heard it that night.

“You did?”

“Yeah, I missed you too.”

It happened then. The wave of nervousness, relieved in an instance.

He missed me. Hemissed me. Hemissedme.

The excitement that came with it, the realisation that what you felt in some way was reciprocated. And that the complicated feelings were felt by the both of you.

“Really?” Your voice was full of hope, your eyes shining bright at him.

“Yeah.” He was blushing now, as he smiled. A wide upside down grin that made your stomach flutter. “Did you?”

“Of course I did.”

How could you not? He has been the best person that has ever stood by you. Even if things had ended, you could only remember the good times, the fun times, the soft ones. How loved he made you feel every single day. How wanted. How cared for.

“When we broke things off…” You started to rumble, as smoke escaped through your lips, finally having ignited the cig. “It wasn’t because I didn’t love you anymore.”

“I know.” He muttered, his tone letting it known that he had a knot in his throat. “I still loved you.”

“Yeah.” You looked up at him, your hand reaching for his, a needed familiar contact came back. “I needed to be okay.”

“Are you?” You knew he was worried about your answer, in a weird way, Steve never had stopped caring about you. And neither had you.

“I am.” You nodded, the curve your lips made made him know that you couldn’t be lying. “I don’t have panic attacks every night, I’m fine being on my own. Honestly.”

“I believe you.” His hand squeezed yours, the soft touch telling you he trusted you, implicitly. You felt yourself falling back into him. “And I’m proud of you, really.”

“I’m proud of you too.” You finally took a step closer to him, your legs touching and a love sick grin on both of your faces. “Dustin told me you’re studying.”

“Yeah well… I finally decided, I guess…”

Even if your attention was on nothing else but him, when the doors opened and people started to come back to the street, smelling of alcohol, smoke and sweat. A chattering invaded the quiet street, and your focus changed.

“Shit.” Your eyes were scanning the multitude, trying to find Eddie, or the blonde girl, or any of her friends.

“What?” Steve’s eyebrow furrowed again, not really knowing why the swarm of people had made your demeanor change. Your hand letting his go, your body taking a step back.

“I came with Edds… Do you see him?”

“Oh, you’re with him?” You scoffed at the question, rolling your eyes lightheartedly, as you shook your head no. Steve nodded as the smallest grin appeared. A relief appeared in his face, and you chuckled at his question and reaction.

“He’s a friend.” You still were trying to find him, people kept passing you by, taller, shorter and drunker. “D’you see him?”

“No.”

Steve left his hand on your shoulder, asking for your attention, knowing that you were getting into your head, and you were worrying too much too soon. And he also knew that once you felt his touch, your shoulders would relax and drop. Your mind stopped spinning.

“D’you remember where he parked?” As soon as he speaks you feel grounded. You nodded, and he replicated the movement. “We’ll wait for him there then, come on.”

You started walking, comfortable silence was one of your favourite things. Just knowing that he was there made you feel better, glancing at him from time to time, catching him staring at you everytime you did so. Making your lips curve everytime you catch him.

The van wasn’t there.

“Fuck.”

“He left?” His tone was a bit agressive now, not at you, if anything he just was protective, so in consequence he seemed pissed that he had left you stranded. Alone.

“I’m guessing he got lucky with the blonde.” You chuckled out of nervousness. Your hand playing with your hair, placing a strand of it behind your ear, trying to look everywhere but him. “S’fine, I’ll just call a taxi and wake Dustin up.”

“Shut up.” He scoffed, his arms crossing in front of his chest, looking down at you, a look of decision in his eyes. There was no way you were going home alone. “I’ll drive you, c’mon.”

“I don’t have my keys.” You mumbled. “Dustin has mine. I was supposed to sleep over.”

“Then you’ll sleep over. Let’s go.” His hand reached out, an invitation you weren’t sure you should take, but do anyway.

The car ride had been filled by music, and soft touches. Loving stares, and nervous chuckles.

It really did feel like old times.

It didn’t help that his house smelled the same, and time seemed to not move in the Harrington household.

The only difference was the most noticeable of them all. All of the family pictures had been put down.

“You changed it up.” You whispered as soon as you walked in, seeing the bare walls, were paint was darker where frames used to be.

“They don’t live here anymore. So…” You knew he wanted to tell you about it, just as much as you knew he didn’t want to talk about it now, so you just nodded, and he understood what you knew. Words weren’t even necessary.

“Who does?” You changed the topic, slightly, once you saw a jacket that wasn’t his hanged on the wall.

“Robin.” He smiled, his face relaxing and becoming brighter. “Her parents didn’t really get the whole… uh… liking girls things.”

“Right, how is she?” You had wanted to reach out to her, but you weren’t sure if she’d wanted to hear from you, you worried, and Steve’s voice echoed in your head you worry too much.

“She missed you.” He confessed with a smile, starting to climb up the stairs, finding his way to his bedroom, you followed him closely. “We all did, I guess.”

His head hung low for a second, remorse in his voice. Looking back at you for a moment before he turned on his bedroom light, his skin glistened under the moonlight that sneaked through his window. You smiled, seeing him in this light again, with the same background that you had becomed so familiar with once before.

His walls where still the same colour, and bedsheets were still stripped. It smelled and felt the same as it had always done, and for a moment -however brief- you were back in time.

You were eighteen again, and you were sneaking into his room for the first time again.

The orangy bedside table filled the room again, and Steve had his boyish grin that had made you fall in love with him all those years ago. He looked at you, fondly, lovingly, melancholically, as you looked around, noticing the new photos on the wall.

“Most of them are from Jonathan, some of them are your brother’s” You chuckled as you carefully looked at all of them, seeing what he had been up to.

Him working at Family Video with Robin, him with his hands on his hips, apron on and full of flour with a rag over his left shoulder. Him asleep on the back of Eddie’s van.

And your favourite one, Steve laing on your bed, looking straight through the camera, a smile that he was hiding behind his arm still evident by the way his face looks, barely woken up. You took that one, when he came to visit you, before you ended things.

“You looked really beautiful.” You whisper, a tone of sadness could be noted on your voice. But your body relaxed when you felt him stepping closer to yours.

“I don’t anymore?” He halved joked, the same lovesick look all over his face, his hair falling messily now that he had took his sweatshirt, hanging it back to you. A gesture that said you’re always cold before sleeping, you can wear it.

“Thanks.” You mutter before taking it, your body feeling his warmth through that piece of clothing. “You do. You always are.”

He stood there for a second, and you could tell he wanted to say something he didn’t quite have the courage to do so.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He answered, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed. You scoffed as you shook your head. He knew that you were saying don’t lie, i know you better than anyone. “Think I’m still drunk.”

“Maybe.” You admit with a half laugh, as you feel the weight of the alcohol that you did drink, and how it had swapped for tiredness not that the clock was closer to four. “You still have something in your mind.”

“Yeah.” He stepped closer to you. His voice was softer, quieter, sweeter. And his eyes couldn’t stop looking at yours. Well, that might have been a lie, he did look at your lips once or twice. His hand reached for yours, nervous that you might pull away. But you never did. You never could. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” You squeezed his hand tighter, wanting that gesture to make his frown disappear, but you only see his anxiousness shine for a second.

“I don’t know. Nothing? Everything?”

“You’re not making that much sense, Stevie.” It had slipped out, the old nickname. You felt a bit embarrassed until you saw him smile. A true deep fond smile.

“I know, honey.” His didn’t, he chose to say it. The dopiest grin that made your heart skip a beat came back, while his fingers played with yours. You could feel the warmness of your cheeks staying there. “I just… I meant everything I said, when we were together.”

“What-?”

He interrupted you, too iger to let you know what he had been thinking since he saw you through the club lights and the sea of drunk people.

“I told you, you were the one I love. It hasn’t changed. I’ve tried, believe me. I tried to stop loving you, and move on, and be with someone else, anyone, but they never came close to you. Nobody knows me like you do, nobody can read me like you do, and I don’t think I can love anyone else like I have loved you.”

With every word, with every breath your body came closer to his, excitement and electricity growing with every word that reached your ears, you couldn’t really believe that it was really happening.

And you weren’t conscious about what you were doing before you did. You just knew that your right hand was tangled with his, and that your left one was cupping his cheek, looking fondly at his eyes before closing the distance between your lips.

They were as soft as you remembered. And he still tastes the same as he did.

You enjoyed it, for as long as you could, your heart beating as one, as your breathing synchronized, and his neediness became yours. Your kiss, this gesture, was enough, more than words could even say.

“I haven’t stopped.” Your voice comes out lower, softer, quieter than you intended to. Your forehead pressed to his. Your eyes still closed, enjoying the way your breathing was mixing with his.

“Thank god.” He giggled as he pulled you close once again.

The second kiss was longer than the first one, but it still made your heart flutter, and your skin warming up in familiar desire. His free hand found his way to your waist, holding you closely, afraid that if he opens his eyes you might disappear.

“We can talk about us, tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

You buried his head on his chest, as he pushed you closer to him. A warm hug that you didn’t want to see the end of, a closeness that you’d missed, and that you hoped you didn’t have to miss again.

The promise that tomorrow you’d wake up next to him again, and his warmth wrapping you up under the sheets let you actually rest for once.

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3

requests! are open

964 notes · View notes

small-town-wayward-daughter · 5 months

Text

I could use some luck

950K notes · View notes

small-town-wayward-daughter · 5 months

Text

Pondering Fate While Ignoring The Obvious

A Ten Inch Hero Story

~Priestly has got it so bad for Tish that he can barely see past the end of her... well, her back end, anyway. He's love sick and forever rejected, constantly stuck inside his own head. When a new girl in town starts messing with him, he quickly loses his cool...~

Boaz Priestly x F!Reader

2,511 Words

Warnings: Nuttin' but fluff and banter. ;)

A/N: This is another square for my @jacklesversebingo card. The prompt is "Backhanded Compliment/Convenience Store/Sugar Addict"

Now listen- I've never written for this movie before, but I had so much fun doing it. If you've seen the movie, I think you'll love this. If you haven't seen it, you may not totally get it, but you'll still love it because it's cute and fluffy and I said so. Give it a chance ;)

Another day, another spicy Italian with no oil and no vinegar. How you could eat a hero dry was a question he could never quite grasp the answer to, but in the end, did another weird order really matter? He’d put a condom on the bun if they asked for it. Maybe not a used one, but then again, Tish was looking extra spicy herself today.

Tish. Goddamnit. There she goes flirting with every male in existence except him. There she is leaning over the counter in that not-so-sneaky way that pushes her tits up and out, giving everyone and their mother a look into the valley of the Promised Land.

For fuck’s sake, if she’d only do that for him.

Then again, nothin’ he hadn’t seen before.

Fingers snapped in front of his face and Priestly blinked himself back into reality.

“Can I help you?” he asked, still half dazed and half hard after staring so intently at his coworker.

Piper sighed. “Yeah. You gotta make a run down the street.”

He sighed harder. “You know, you ladies are capable of patronizing the convenience store now and then. It’s not really hard. You just pick out what you need and exchange it for cash.”

The tiny blonde pouted and batted her lashes. “Please? My feet hurt from standing all day.”

He scoffed. “And mine don't?”

“I’m not used to it. I’m delicate.”

Priestly scratched at the bright green spikes that sat atop his head for the day, masquerading as a hairstyle. He frowned but relented. “Fine. Gimme the list.”

He saw her from the street. He wasn’t purposely peeping through the window like a stalker, but he felt like it all the same. It wasn’t his fault, not really. Things mostly stayed the same around town, so when something was different, when someone new showed up, it tended to stick out a bit.

The new girl at the register was cute, not particularly daring in her style or makeup palette, but she was attractive. Probably the thing Priestly noticed first was the lollipop stick hanging from her painted lips.

His entrance was announced by the jangling of bells and she looked up as he came in. She smiled around the pop and twirled the white paper stick between her fingers.

“Welcome.”

He looked back at her over his shoulder and nodded. “Hey.”

Slowly, she pulled the treat from her mouth and licked the very tip. Her tongue was as red as the pop and Priestley was sure that his cheeks were turning the same shade. He cleared his throat quickly and turned back, going about his business.

The store was otherwise empty except for Mr. Jacobson, the old man who never seemed to go anywhere but was always wherever you went. He was currently lingering at the end of the aisle, amazed at the sheer amount of chip flavors the new millennium had to offer.

“Back in my day we had regular and salt & vinegar, and we were grateful!”

Priestly laughed under his breath and looked over the rack at the register. She was laughing softly as well, and when their eyes met, she didn’t shy away.

He did; quickly tearing his gaze from the cherry pop and focusing on the aluminum foil instead. There was no use flirting with her anyway- she’d never go for him. She looked too normal, too pretty to fall for his shenanigans. Best not to even think about it.

Arms fully stocked, he headed her way, keeping his eyes on the black and gray tiled floor and praying she wouldn’t make his heart race any faster.

She sucked hard on the Blow Pop and then took a bite, making him jump. Sugar crackled between her teeth and she winked.

“I hope you overcharge them,” she said dryly, staring him down.

Confusion took the place of shyness and Priestly’s face scrunched up. “What?” he snapped, jerking away from the counter.

The girl rolled her eyes and went about ringing up his order without another word.

Cash exchanged, Priestly thanked her and walked out, still wondering what the hell she was talking about.

Monday.

Priestly stared out the front window, wondering if the day was going to go his way or not. He knew he shouldn’t bother pondering the Fates, because they always seemed against him, but he liked to think he had some hope tucked away somewhere beneath the Manic Panic hair dye and all the metal sticking out of his head. If there was, he couldn’t find any today.

Tish was late, as usual, probably rolling out of some strange guy’s arms and fishing for her bra underneath the bed.

Someday… someday, that’d be his bed she was searching under. Someday, those would be his arms she rolled out of. He just had to keep hoping.

Or not. He really didn’t care.

The sun was too bright, the grill was too hot. He hated everything.

Except the sound of bubblegum popping behind him. He didn’t seem to hate that.

With spatula in hand, he turned and startled just enough to make the bubblegum appear between coyly smiling pink lips.

“Hey.”

Priestley squinted. “You’re that chick from the store.”

Annoyance crept onto her face. “And you’re that dude with too much eyeliner.”

He laughed before realizing she was insulting him and ended up jolting up on his toes awkwardly, half a smile curled on his lip.

He cleared his throat. “Priestly.”

She squinted. “Like Elvis?”

He shrugged. “And you are?”

“Hungry.”

Slapping a five on the counter, she picked up her hero and spun away, heading toward the door. She turned to push it open with her backside and popped her gum again.

Her eyes were glued to him and Priestly felt his stomach flip. He met her gaze and she smiled.

“I always do.”

He wanted to say something, to ask her what the hell she was talking about, but she was gone before the words reached his tongue.

“Always do what?”

Jen turned her head his way, but her eyes were still locked on the computer screen. “What’s up?”

He sighed. “Nothing. Just a weird girl from…nothing.”

It was nothing. She was just the weird girl from down the street. And anyway, he was supposed to be hating everything today, not shifting his ponderance to the mystery of the gum chewing, pop crunching girl from the convenience store.

“Nothing.”

Blue hair; don’t care.

Priestly cracked an egg on the grill and watched the edges sizzle. He wasn’t great at a lot of things, but cooking eggs was something he did exceptionally well. The butter bubbled around the perimeter, curling the whites just slightly, and he pushed the tip of his spatula against it.

Not ready yet.

The girls were, yet again, chatting about men, and he kept one ear on the sizzle and the other in their conversation.

“I just don’t understand how hard it is to find. It’s right there.” Tish laughed and pushed a delicate hand back through her hair. “It’s a clit, not the Holy Grail.”

Priestly raised a brow. “Some would call it that though,” he interjected.

She rolled her eyes. “You would.”

Offended, he sucked in a quick breath. “Ya know something-”

She turned, one hand on her hip, waiting. “Yeah?”

His lips pursed and dejected, he turned back to the grill. “Forget it.”

“Thought so,” she laughed.

God, she was such a bitch sometimes. OK, most times, but still.

Tish went back to leaning on the counter and he took the opportunity to peek at her ass.

Behind him, a throat was cleared.

Priestly sighed, knowing what was waiting for him when he turned. Or, rather, who.

“You again.” He batted his lashes.

She smacked her lips. “Me again.” From her pocket, she withdrew a pink Starburst and fiddled with the wrapper.

He eyed the candy and followed it to her mouth. Her lips were darker today and it reminded him of the cherry pop. “You eat too much sugar, you know that?”

She smiled gently. “And you dye your hair too much. That isn’t good for you. All those chemicals are gonna fry your brain.”

“Joke’s on you, it’s already fried- shit!” Fried egg. Burnt to a crisp. “Damnit.”

Sugar Girl swallowed a laugh and the Starburst.

He turned around, annoyed at himself and her laughter. “Are you- do you want something?”

“Yup.” She nodded and took her order from Piper, who was holding a small, paper-wrapped hero. “Thanks.”

Green eyes narrowed on her smile. She was weird. Way too weird. And kinda rude.

“You ever gonna tell me your name?” he asked, calling out as she pushed open the door.

“Sure,” she replied, “Soon as I get my free sample.”

“Huh?”

Confusion always seemed to linger when she left, that and the smell of strawberries. Or cherries, or whatever she’d been sucking on.

Sucking on…

His eyes flickered over to Tish and he wondered if she was as good at sucking things as she claimed.

It was raining and he was cranky.

He’d missed his alarm, the car wouldn’t start, and a passing bus nearly drenched him head to toe.

It wasn’t supposed to rain at the beach. It was practically against the law. Nature’s law, anyway.

And to top it all off, Tish was bragging about the amazing night she’d had with a handsome stranger visiting from New York.

“He’s just in town for a few days, so it’s nothing serious,” she explained to a wide-eyed Piper who was drinking down every word. “But man, I wouldn’t be mad if it was. He’s… tall and handsome and-”

Priestly cleared his throat. “Ya know I’m pretty tall.”

She clicked her tongue. “And?”

His heart ached at her callousness. “And… just thought I’d remind you.”

Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing to him, but he thought his advances were fairly obvious. Maybe she was just a bitch.

Jen derailed his thought train with a shopping list she’d printed out.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Please?”

The shop on the corner was the last place he wanted to go. Nameless Sugar Girl was the last person he wanted to see. “Why do I always have to go?” He pouted and gestured to the window. “It’s pouring rain out there.”

Jen looked up with puppy-dog eyes. “Which is why I’m asking you to please go.”

A heavy sigh was his only reply. Priestly grabbed the paper from her hand, crumpling it beyond repair, and set out into the downpour.

He was dripping by the time he made it down the street. He sneered at the water on his face, rolled his eyes at the welcome mat, swatted viciously at the bells as they rang above his head.

“Rough morning?” she asked, watching his huffy entrance.

He scowled. “You could say that.”

A peppermint rolled on her tongue and the red and white stripes caught his eye. “Well, lemme know if you need any assistance.”

Priestly ran a hand through his teal-tinted hair and shook out a puddle’s worth of rain. “Yeah. Thanks.”

It took him a while to collect the goods, having trouble finding the right paper towels that would fit into the holder in the bathrooms. He’d never had any issues in the store before; seemed like someone had rearranged.

Someone.

He looked across the rows of sundries and wondered what her deal was. Hell, he still didn’t even know her name. Not that he wanted to, of course.

Of course.

Finally, and with much annoyance, he arrived at the register.

She laughed softly as he unloaded his arms.

He shook his head. “What?”

“I… I shouldn’t even touch this one.”

He had no clue what she was talking about, he never did, and he was at the end of his rope.

His patience snapped. “What?”

She sat back, clearly hurt by his tone. “Your shirt.”

She pointed at his chest and he looked down, reading the big black letters upside down.

‘Save a tree, eat a beaver’

His shoulders fell. “Oh. Yeah. Whatever.”

“Yeah,” she echoed, the sting heavy in her voice. “Whatever.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Dropping a can of coffee onto the counter, he slapped his palms down on either side of it and leaned in.

“Ya know, everytime I see you, you’ve got something snarky to say.”

Her eyes went wide. “Snarky?” She frowned. “I thought I was flirting.”

The fight drained out of him along with the blood in his cheeks. Confused once more. “Uh… what?”

Pushing herself up off the stool, she mirrored his pose, hands falling dangerously close to his. “Flirting,” she said again. “It’s an ancient ritual in which a sexually interested party attempts to lure their prey into bed with witty and charming wordplay.”

He balked. “I know what flirting is!”

She glared. “Then why haven’t you picked up on the fact that I’ve been trying to pick you up for weeks now?”

“I uh…” His elbows buckled and he stood up fully. “You have?” No way. She wasn’t…

Memories of the past month flooded his mind. Each time he’d seen her she was smiling at him, not being snarky. She was teasing him, answering the ridiculous sayings on his shirt.

‘I sell crack for the CIA.’ … “I hope you overcharge them”

‘Surf naked.’ … “I always do.”

‘Orgasm Donor - Ask for your free sample’ … “As soon as I get my free sample.”

It had been smacking him in the damned face and he hadn’t seen it. She had been playing with him the whole time, not trying to annoy him. She wanted him to notice her, but he was too busy dreaming of Tish, wondering when she’d notice him.

He sucked in a stunned breath. “You have. Wow.”

A tiny smile returned to her cherry lips. “Come on, I know you’re not as dumb as your fashion sense implies.”

Priestly felt a dip in his gut, something fluttering around inside. He grinned. “Oh, I’m way dumber.”

Reaching across the counter, she grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him close. “Good.”

Her lips were soft, the kiss as sweet as the candy she was always eating. He breathed her in as her tongue swept over his. He was stunned, confused but in a good way. Maybe he needed to push Tish aside and pay more attention to the world around him. Maybe this was a good thing. A really good thing. His eyebrows raised in surprise, his blood pressure raised even higher.

She pulled away slowly, her lips lingering on his.

“You get it now?”

She waited, blinking at him with the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. He should have looked sooner, closer; should have given her a chance.

“Yeah,” he whispered in a laugh. “I think I do.”

Another kiss, a press of her hand at the nape of his neck.

“You ever gonna tell me your name?”

She smiled. “Y/N.”

He reached for her cheek; fingers landing lightly on her soft skin.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @djs8891 @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @iamsapphine @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @justcallmeasmodeus @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @maggiegirl17 @pandaxo79 @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @roseblue373 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @spideysimpossiblegirl @spnexploration @stevekempscocktails @the-wounded-healer05

155 notes · View notes

small-town-wayward-daughter · 5 months

Text

"May I have this dance?"

Pairing: TOS Spock x Reader Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series Words: 1.3K Summary: Sometimes all you need to do is talk and dance. A/N: I feel like this one is a bit OOC but I don't really care right now.

Not my gif!!!

WINTER WRITING PLAN

Sighing, you close the door behind you and kick your shoes off your feet. Note to self, next time just wear comfortable trainers. No one would care anyway. In a way, you were grateful to your husband for dragging you home early from the New Year's party, because you weren't sure how much longer you could have stood in those shoes.

On the other hand, you felt melancholy rising inside you as your eyes fell on the clock, which told you that it was only twenty minutes until midnight. You had been looking forward to the party for weeks, where the whole crew would meet (the five-year mission was over and the Enterprise had been in dock for repairs for two months) and the sight of familiar faces had put you in high spirits. However, Spock had taken you aside at a little after eleven and asked you to leave.

He was not too keen on large gatherings of people, even if he knew them well, and the loud music made his ears shrill. You had known that this would happen, but you had still hoped that you would at least manage to stay until midnight. Nevertheless, you did not grumble, but said goodbye to your friends and then, led by Spock, started on your way home. After all, he had only come and practically suffered for your sake and for your love, so you could not refuse to let him go if it became too much for him.

"You're disappointed." His voice made you look up. As so often, it was far from emotional and with his arms folded behind his back, he looked as if he were reporting to the captain on the Enterprise. "No, I'm not."

"But you're not happy about us leaving either." You sighed and walked over to him until you were standing in front of him. "I want to be honest with you Spock. No, I'm not happy. However, I'm not angry or disappointed either. I knew we would leave early because you are not comfortable with such festivities. However, I had hoped that we could stay there at least until midnight to celebrate the New Year with the others."

You smiled and gently felt for his hand, which he allowed. "However, I don't want you to feel guilty either." "I am Vulcan, I do not feel emotions." You just shook your head with a smile. "Of course not." You tried to turn around, however Spock continued to hold your hand. "If you had said so, we could have stayed."

"No," you shook your head. "You were uncomfortable and no celebration or party in the world is worth making you feel bad." "What a sentimental way of thinking." Smirking, you broke away from him to go to the bathroom and take off your jewellery. "Don't act like you wouldn't have done the same in my place, Spock."

"Maybe." He sounded thoughtful, lost in thought and you didn't get a longer answer, however, this was nothing new for you and you didn't think anything of it, so engrossed were you in removing the jewellery as well as make-up and the tightly fitting hairstyle. You only looked up when soft classical music flew into the bathroom. French, eighteenth century, if you were not mistaken. Confused, you drew your eyebrows together. "Spock?" No answer.

With another sigh, you set aside the rag of make-up remover you had just been about to use and left the bathroom. "Spock, what are ... you doing?" The last word almost stuck in your throat as you stepped into the living room. In no time at all, Spock had moved the furniture aside to create an open area in the middle of the room and had gathered pretty much all the candles in your flat together, lit them and spread them around the room so that they provided the only source of light.

He himself stood, still dressed in a festive black Vulcan tunic in the centre of the room, his face bathed in gold from the candlelight, his arms folded behind his back. "Spock, what...?" You were at a loss for words and Spock merely raised an eyebrow before taking elegant and lithe long strides towards you, coming to a stop in front of you. He looked down at you and regarded you for a few moments.

"I realised again tonight how much you have to give up to be married to me. I am aware that I am not always easy and that in many ways I do not conform to proper human behaviour. I am also aware of the fact that many persons around you have not spoken well of this marriage, but you have not allowed yourself to be influenced." He lowered his gaze slightly and you thought you could see a greenish glow on his cheeks.

"I have not fulfilled my duties as a husband well and no," he interrupted your protests before they could begin, " I will take no criticism in that regard. You have made many sacrifices and I have seldom appreciated them. For that I would like, humbly, to ask your forgiveness. I am also aware that it is not nearly equal to what you are doing to conform to my customs, however, I hope to make a start with this." Without hesitation, he slowly brought out his free hand, not covered in gloves, and held it out to you, his gaze now locked razor-sharp on yours.

"May I have this dance?"

For a few moments you were speechless. You had told Spock at the beginning of your relationship how much you loved dancing, but Spock had never shown any particular affection for it, so at some point you had stopped asking. However, you had always enjoyed it. Always.

It had been something private between you, almost intimate, since Spock, as you might expect, had not enjoyed indulging in such emotional things in front of other people, which was why you had danced supremely in the privacy of your quarters. That he now asked for it, willingly, and even seemed pleased, warmed your heart and almost caused you to turn into a squealing teenager.

"I would be honoured."

Carefully you took his hand and instantly you were flooded with feelings of affection and pure love that almost brought tears to your eyes. Gently, Spock led you onto the self-made dance floor and pulled you so close to him that you thought you could feel his heartbeat. Slowly Spock began to lead you, spinning you in circles and being, as in everything, elegant, smooth and just perfect.

In time, you relaxed enough to rest your head on his shoulder and sigh contentedly as his scent hit your nose and he pulled you even closer. "Thank you," you whispered after a few minutes of silent dancing and Spock just hummed softly in denial. "There is nothing to thank me for, Adun'a."

Before you could answer, bangs sounded outside and a glance at the clock confirmed your suspicions. "It's midnight," Spock spoke your thought as you broke away from him and walked over to the window on your balcony. Spock stepped behind you, "Do you want to go out?" "No," you shook your head. "Those fireworks are loud and I don't want your ears to hurt." "I already told you, it's not just you who has to forego-"

You interrupted him. "However, I would like to do something different. It's kind of a tradition, even if we're a few seconds late." "Very well." You laughed softly. "You don't even know what it's about Spock." "I trust you."

For whatever reason, these words gave you the rest. Gently you put your hands on his cheeks, pulled him down to you and pressed your lips to his. It wasn't a very long kiss, but it conveyed all the emotions you wanted to show and gave Spock enough time to pull you a little closer to him. "I think I might take a liking to that tradition," Spock reflected and you could see the amusement in his eyes and had to laugh.

"Happy New Year, Spock." "I wish you the same, Adun'a."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@bigblissandlove1

@akamitrani

212 notes · View notes

small-town-wayward-daughter · 5 months

Text

Telling myself this every day here's a meme

78K notes · View notes

small-town-wayward-daughter · 5 months

Text

I too got reminded by my fellow goblin brains with this post. Reblogging because why not since it worked.

"why do I feel so terrible?"

-person who forgot to take their not-feeling-terrible medication

35K notes · View notes

small-town-wayward-daughter · 6 months

Text

it's the last day you can rb this

126K notes · View notes

small-town-wayward-daughter · 6 months

Text

"Here's to the happiest of new years to all my wonderful friends. Let's all raise a cup to ring in the new year. Happy New Year."

Winnie the Pooh: A Very Merry Pooh Year (2002) dir. Jamie Mitchell and Gary Katona

5K notes · View notes

small-town-wayward-daughter · 6 months

Text

Just Material

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader Summary - When Fred finds Y/n wearing a jumper which isn’t her own (and certainly isn’t his), he can’t help but question who it must belong to. Warnings - Bit of angst, mentions of stress Words - 1.5K

Masterlist

It was a jumper. It was just a jumper. A bit of material, sewed together by needle and thread with absolutely no deeper meaning than such. At least, that’s how Y/n saw it. Fred, however, saw the Hufflepuff title over the jumper, the smell that still lingered and the initials which were still printed into the label. Just two letters which taunted him: C.D

Fred had made it abundantly clear from the moment the two made their title of couple official, that Y/n was his. His hand seemed very so delicately glued to her, his eyes trained on her (even when she wasn’t looking) and constantly trying to be at her side. This was mostly because of the great feelings he felt for the girl; feelings of which, sometimes, he struggled to comprehend. But there was too a small part of him which did it to ensure no one else got any ideas.

The boy wanted to make it out to be as if there was no point in trying. If he was to ensure that their relationship was shown to be as concrete as it felt, then no one else would try to slip their way between them. And Fred’s plan had been working; it had been working bloody brilliantly. Well, that was before now. Because, as it turns out, the Weasley boy had walked into the library, set to meet Y/n, only to find her sat at a table with friends, dressed in a jumper which wasn’t her own - and certainly wasn’t his.

She was sat there, a book flicked to a page Fred knew she definitely wasn’t reading as she quietly giggled with her friends. Friends of which Fred knew weren’t Quidditch players who he also could assume wouldn’t thus own Quidditch jumpers. So, the question which came to Fred’s head, was simply: Who’s jumper was it?

He had been standing at a halt in the middle of the Libary, so deep in thought he didn’t have it in him to get Y/n’s attention. That was until she caught his sight, smiled, then lost her smile as she noted his discouraged expression.

Keep reading

4K notes · View notes

small-town-wayward-daughter · 6 months

Text

wallpaper

summary: bucky finds out how to change the wallpaper on your phone, and takes every opportunity he can to do so. until one day he doesn't have the heart to

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 1000

warnings: fluff, nonspecific friends to lovers, this was just a dumb idea i had

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

The first time Bucky changed the wallpaper on your phone, it was an accident - kind of. He sat on your couch, lazily scrolling through the photos of Alpine you insisted he looked at, because you simply couldn’t resist having a Halloween photoshoot with her while he was off on yet another mission, leaving her in your trusting hands. He was happy you were in the kitchen, because he would never let you see the smile he wore as he browsed the album, chuckling silently to himself over how elaborate these photos were. His mood swiftly changed when he swiped incorrectly, an array of different options suddenly presenting themselves to him. He swore under his breath as he tried to make them go away, but he only made it worse as the option to change your wallpaper came up. With an annoyed huff, he just kept tapping, figuring that eventually he would get it back to how it was. After a few more grueling seconds, he sighed in relief as he was once more face to face with Alpine sitting inside a jack-o-lantern candy bucket - how was he supposed to know that photo was now both your lockscreen and homescreen?

“Did you change my lockscreen?” you curiously asked when you finally sat back down beside him, taking your phone and checking it for any new messages.

“Did I what?” he asked in confusion, his head snapping up from his own phone to look at you with a scrunched brow.

You could only laugh lightly, turning your phone to display the new photo brandishing your screen. The second Bucky saw it, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly as his face flushed ever so slightly.

“I, uh- sorry,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to, your phone is just - it’s different than mine.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle fondly, your chuckles growing into more laughter as you realized it was also your homescreen. “It’s okay, Buck,” you assured softly, laughing quietly as you changed the photos back to their precursors. “It could have been worse, at least it’s not an embarrassing photo or something.”

You were too busy fixing his mistake to notice the glint that sparkled in his eyes, a smirk growing on his face as your words gave him the most incredible idea he’s had in a while.

The second time Bucky changed your wallpaper, it was very much not an accident. You left him your phone so he could look at the photos you took on your latest trip, unpacking your bags as he split his attention between listening to your stories and scrolling through a seemingly endless array of new pictures - which he truthfully enjoyed, but he was on a secret mission for the perfect, nondescript one to choose.

“Again, Buck?” you giggled, flopping on the bed beside him as you took your phone back.

“What?” he asked, just innocent and clueless enough to not raise any flags.

“You and your fat thumbs, I swear,” you mumbled under your breath, changing the photos back once more, completely oblivious to his proud little smirk.

It took three more times for you to suspect that Bucky had started doing it on purpose, but your suspicions weren’t proven correct until he took a photo of you to display.

“Did you- when- really?” you stammered as you looked between him and your phone, half annoyed and half impressed because when did he even take this photo?

He only grinned in response, laughing about how long he was able to do it under the pretense of it being an accident before running away in a fit of giggles, dodging the pillow you threw after him.

From that moment on, it became a game for him.

Any opportunity that presented itself, Bucky snatched your phone and changed your displays to the most embarrassing and ridiculous photos of yourself.

A sunset was changed to you mid-sneeze. Alpine was changed to you post-nap. You partying with the gang was changed to an extreme close up of your face in that very photo. Louisiana docks were changed to you mid rant as you yelled at him to give you your phone back. A cherry blossom was changed to you passed out on the couch, wrapped up in a hoodie you stole from him and drooling all over the sleeve of it.

As time went on, you stopped being surprised whenever it happened, and you grew to enjoy it. It was a silly thing, but it was a silly thing that only you and Bucky shared. It was a special thing, a cherished thing. It was your favourite thing.

Neither of you realized how the dynamic between the two of you started morphing into something else right in front of your very eyes. It was slow. It was gradual and complex and delicate and went unnoticed for almost a whole year.

It was only noticed now, as Bucky took the opportunity to grab your phone as you slept soundly against his chest. It had been a while since he was able to get a chance to do this, and so he eagerly unlocked your phone, already running through different ideas of what picture to use.

He was caught off guard when the picture staring back at him was from a few weeks ago. It was the day you finally convinced him to let you drive his bike after months of endless asking. It was a photo neither of you knew Sam took until later that night, when he sent it to both of you.

It was you, sat in front of him on the bike and wrapped up in his arms, one securely planted on either side of you as his hands rested on yours, guiding you through everything as you both gleefully laughed at the fact that you actually managed to convince him to do this.

For once, Bucky didn’t have the heart to change it.

He couldn’t.

It was his wallpaper, too.

6K notes · View notes

small-town-wayward-daughter · 6 months

Text

Headcanons: 10th Doctor x Autistic!Reader established relationship

A/N: I've been rewatching the 9th and 10th Doctors' series recently, and found myself getting attached all over again, so I've decided to add the Tenth Doctor to my list of characters I write for! Enjoy!

The reader here is gender-neutral.

Content warnings: None.

Loves any happy stims you have! He finds that it makes your joy more contagious – and since his positive energy tends to similarly rub off on you, he gets to see you stim often, to his delight.

Like Thirteen, he’s genuinely interested in any toys or jewellery you may use to stim, and likes to learn about how it helps you. If he comes across anything that might serve a similar purpose for you during his trips, he won’t hesitate to get it for you, if possible.

He listens enthusiastically to you when you talk about your special interest(s). While he may struggle with explicit verbal affection, he more than makes up for it by giving you his full attention, and watching with sheer adoration as you engage with the things you love.

Even if you can't tell how he feels about you from his facial expression alone, you can rest assured that once there's someone else around you (especially if it's Donna), you'll be made aware by them teasing him relentlessly for his heart-eyes.

Once again, there’s a sensory room in the TARDIS all for yourself! It has everything you could need to calm down from sensory overload, meltdowns, or just feeling a bit “off”.

The Doctor won’t go in unless you explicitly allow him to – though admittedly, he's happy if you do, because he also gets some use out of some of the stim and sensory items!

While he’s often quite energetic, he knows when to calm down, if you get overstimulated. You may not always be able to avoid things that make you feel that way in your adventures, but he’s mindful in finding ways to help you endure it, at least until you make it back to the TARDIS.

Those moments where his darker, “oncoming storm” side comes out can be a bit complicated. He'll most likely tell you to go back to the TARDIS, because he doesn’t want you to get overwhelmed from seeing him like that, but he usually also needs you there to reign him in.

By the time you’re together, you’ve come to recognise this, and always focus on stopping him from going too far. He feels awful if you do get overwhelmed, so he’ll either give you some space for as long as you need it, or stay with you to help you calm down, depending on what you want.

If you lose speech for any reason, or are nonverbal, the Doctor will gladly talk enough for the two of you, and will immediately steer anyone who asks any uncomfortable questions about it away from the subject. He also isn’t afraid to call them out if they don’t relent.

He'll do anything you need to keep you safe during your travels, because he genuinely loves being with you!

860 notes · View notes

small-town-wayward-daughter · 6 months

Text

sudden urge to burst into tears. im not a toddler i just agree with their beliefs

135K notes · View notes

small-town-wayward-daughter · 6 months

Text

Me at 3am clicking “keep reading” on the most jaw dropping, earth shattering, pantie dropping, smutty fic when I have to be up in 3 hours

44K notes · View notes

small-town-wayward-daughter · 6 months

Text

If I cried you have to also. The story is worth it.

liar liar (i see right through you)

natasha romanoff x fem reader

prompt: “it wasn’t real.” “it was to me.” “did you ever even love me?” “no. i never loved you.”

summary - after your apartment is broken into, natasha realizes she loves you too much to put you in danger. so she breaks up with you.

warnings: mentions of a break-in, smoking, breakups, angst, ptsd mentions, jealousy, mean nat, fluffy ending, happy ending. natasha’s an emotionally repressed idiot.

natasha knew she was in too deep from the moment she met you. she introduced herself, and you had absolutely no idea who black widow or natasha romanoff was. it was refreshing, seeing that little sheepish blush on your face when your friend whispered in your ear, and told you who natasha was. the nervously cute way you played with your fingers, yet you genuinely laughed at everything she said. she fell for you from the moment she had met you at one of tony’s parties. you were a new intern for one of his companies, and tony specifically wanted to introduce you two. natasha was reluctant, until she met you. everything about you seemed to make her heart smile.

you had a witty response for everything, and natasha loved that. natasha loves you, and that’s the problem. in her line of work, love is weakness. love is what your enemies use to torture you. she can’t ever let anything bad happen to you, not even herself. because natasha romanoff is the worst person on the planet, regardless of the starry eyes you give her, or how you don’t flinch away when she touches you. despite knowing her past. the soft touches you leave on her body, along with those delicate kisses. everything about you makes natasha weak, and for a moment, she doesn’t care. that moment lasts a whole year, until you get hurt.

the police concluded it was a home invasion gone wrong, but the intruder didn’t dare try to steal anything. he cut the side of your cheek, and warned you that he’d be back. natasha had a gut wrenching feeling that it was one of her enemies; she knew it was. coming after the one thing she loves the most. he almost had you— he could have killed you. he didn’t, but he could have, and that’s the message he wanted to send natasha. and where was miss romanoff that night? on a mission halfway across the world.

of course wanda and tony had shown up at the station rather quickly, and they comforted you till natasha raced home as quickly as she could. the pure heartbreak in her eyes was agonizing as she saw the cut on the side of your face, and all the little voices in her head told her that it was her fault. she engulfed you into her arms for an hour as you sobbed and admitted how scared you were. how vulnerable you felt. natasha held you that night, as her thoughts ran wild. you slept soundly, feeling safe in her arms, while she felt like some wild beast you were trying to domesticate.

you go to work the next day, despite natasha’s request for you to say home. you insist on going on with your normal routine, and that you aren’t going to let this get to you. you don’t tell her it already has, just like it’s already gotten to her as well. when you leave, natasha’s alone in your apartment, and alone with her thoughts. things she hasn’t thought about since before she even met you. she thinks about your pretty face, and the scar that cuts going to leave. how you’ll always remember every time you look at it; how she’ll always remember every time she looks at it.

she’s waiting for you when you get home. sitting on the couch, sitting as straight as a robot. she doesn’t look at you right away, and when she does she has an inscrutable look in her eyes. “are you okay, nat?” you ask softly, and she wants to scoff at the ridiculous question. you’re in danger; of course she’s not okay. “i have to go.” she says, and your face softens. “on a mission? so soon?” you ask as you make your way to the couch to kiss her cheek. she tenses and you furrow your eyebrows as you pull away and stare at her questioningly. “no. i have to go. i have to leave your apartment. i can’t be here anymore.” she says and your expression turns serious. “w-what do you mean?” you ask uncertainly.

“is this because of what happened yesterday? because i already started looking for a new apartment, nat. it’ll be okay.” you promise, and her jaw tenses as she grips on her jeans. “no, it’s not okay. i don’t care if you get a new apartment, i can no longer be here. around you.” she elaborates and you freeze at the admission. “what?” you ask in a voice barely above a whisper. “this... it’s gone on too long. i didn’t intend to go this far with you.” she utters the words that make you back away slowly; as if the enter place was going to cave in.

“you— you didn’t intend for this to go that far? what are you talk about, natasha?” you ask, and the sound of her name makes her look at you. there’s something in her eyes beneath all that exhaustion. what she’s tired of, you don’t know, but you can’t dwell. too many thoughts are circling in on you. “i mean, we both know i was never the relationship type. that hasn’t changed.” she states, making you flash her a look of disbelief. “of course it’s changed! we’ve been together for a year, natasha! a year! you’ve been a wonderful girlfriend, where the hell is this coming from?” you ask a bit demandingly, and she shakes her head.

“that means nothing. this year meant nothing.” she lies right through her teeth, but the words sound so honest as they hit you. your whole body goes cold, and you wrap your arms around yourself for some kind of comfort, “nothing? h-how could you even say that? what about everything we did— everything you said.” you try, sounding so desperate as your voice breaks. your throat hurts and tears are stinging your eyes. the sound and sight of you makes natasha’s heart shatter in her chest. “it didn’t mean anything. it wasn’t real.” natasha says coldly as she stands up. suddenly this is becoming too excruciatingly real. just yesterday she was holding you in her arms, keeping you safe. just yesterday she uttered those three words. ‘i love you’.

“it was to me.” you whisper.

a tear falls from your eyes as you look up at natasha who’s standing a few feet away. it’s pretty fucked up that all you want is for her to wrap her strong arms around you and make you feel better. she says nothing, all she does is stare at you as if you’re a stranger. as if you’re not the girl she’s been making love to for the last year. you swallow thickly, “did you ever even love me?” you ask, trying so hard to keep your voice steady. the question nearly winds natasha, but her eyes land on the cut on your cheek. the reality sets in. she has to do this.

natasha goes into assassin mode; all of the emotion leaves her face and eyes. “no. i never loved you.” she simplifies, and natasha can see the exact moment she broke your heart. it’s engraved into her mind, and amongst all of the terrible things she’s done, this one makes the top three. your bottom lip trembles, but you bite down on it hard to keep it steady. “i-i’ll help you pack your—“ you try but she cuts you off. “i already handled it this morning.” natasha responds curtly, and your heart sinks. she planned this. she was planning on leaving you. you wondered how long she’s been thinking about leaving; how many nights she’s spent in your bed feeling suffocated by you.

“goodbye y/n.” she says, and as you look up at her through teary eyes, you can see what looks like regret behind her own. why is she doing this? she doesn’t really want to leave, does she? her eyes say no, but she just said all those awful things. you blink, trying to blink the tears away but they fall rapidly, multiplying. she’s walking away now. she’s making her way to the front door, and you know this time she’s never coming back. never.

your voice is stuck in your throat and the words physically crawl out, “please don’t go.” you try to whisper, but it comes out as a pathetic whimper instead. natasha turns her head, but your back is to her. you don’t want to watch her leave. you don’t think your heart could take having that image burned into your mind. tears well up in the assassins eyes as she takes your image in one last time. you in this apartment. you with your work uniform on that you hate. your hair in an unruly ponytail after a long day. it takes everything in natasha to turn towards the door, and walk out.

but she does. she leaves, and as soon as that door shuts again, the haunting realization that it will never be open for her again makes the tears in her eyes fall. she turns back around, she doesn’t want to go. she wants to walk in and tell you everything she just said was complete and utter bullshit. she wants to tell you she loves you so much the thought of anything happening to you because of her makes her want to die. she hears the muffled sobs through the door, and her heart breaks even more than before. she broke you. she broke you, but she will not be the reason you die. you being sad is better than you being dead.

right?

six months. it’s been six months since you heard from natasha. the first few months felt like hell. all you did was cry, or try not to cry. you barely left your house unless it was for work; not to mention the ptsd from the break in. you moved into a new apartment a few days ago. it feels a bit better. now that you live on a different side of town, you feel a bit safer, but a part of you wonders if natasha will ever knock on your old door and be surprised when someone else answers.

you push that thought away quickly as you get ready for one of tony’s infamous company parties. it’s at the avenger headquarters, so you don’t know if you’ll be seeing natasha, but you put on a tiny black dress and curl your hair to be prepared. you’re not going alone; you’ve been casually dating your coworker johnny for a month now. you decided to bring him as your plus one. you don’t really know how you feel about johnny. he’s sweet, and you’re trying to move on with your life without natasha.

natasha on the other hand; she’s an angry mess without you. she spends her days in the compound when she’s not training or on missions. she’s built so much arm muscle in the last six months just to keep herself busy from thinking about you. you and your smile. she isn’t sure if you’ve moved on, or if that smile is directed at someone new. she hopes not.

she keeps a picture of you by her bed, and she thinks about you every day. sometimes, when she’s in town and drives by your apartment, she thinks about stopping by. she thinks about pouring her heart out to you, and telling you the truth. then she thinks about the way you looked at her that night; the words she said to you that she didn’t mean. that evening’s been replaying in her mind since she left you. god, she hasn’t stopped seeing your face every time she shuts her eyes. she remembers how it felt to have you in her arms; or when she’d wake up to you. she hasn’t been with anybody since you, and she doesn’t want to be. sure, she’s gotten offers, and there were a number of women and men in the compound who wanted a piece of her, but all she could think about was you. it was as if you plagued her thoughts twenty-four seven.

natasha romanoff has never been in love before you. she had never really felt much of anything before you other than anger. meeting you was like putting water on a fire that’s been burning for so long. a fire nobody else could put out except for you. there was no more fire though; just a drought.

the redhead glances down at her glass of expensive champagne as she stands at the bar wearing a tight red dress. the room is full of shield agents, and her teammates, along with other various workers who worked for fury and tony. there were a hoard of people she’s known for years, some longer than a decade, yet she’s never felt more alone. just as the widow is standing around feeling sorry for herself, she hears the most gorgeous sound in the world. for a moment she thinks she’s hallucinating. it’s your giggle.

natasha looks up, and her eyes lock on you. you’re wearing a tight black dress, and a pair of matching black doc martens. your hair is curled perfectly, yet your back is to natasha and she can’t see your face. her heart falls into her stomach as she sees a tall man standing beside you, he slinks his arm around your waist, and kisses your cheek. you’ve moved on. of course you moved on, you’re wonderful. natasha frowns as she looks down at her half empty glass.

“need something stronger?” yelena asks, pulling natasha out of her thoughts. the redhead turns to look at her younger sister who’s now holding out a flask for natasha to take. natasha gladly accepts, taking the flask and chugging quickly. the taller woman can’t help but stare at you. you turn your body to the side to look at the man you’re here with. he’s talking about something and you’re listening to every word he says. just like you used to listen to her.

“she looks good.” yelena comments, reaching for the flask. natasha scowls, “she always looks good.” the older woman mutters, making yelena chuckle as she shakes her head. “идиот (idiot).” yelena mutters, and natasha glares at the blonde, “you’re an idiot! three years ago you were calling a seatbelt a strap on!” natasha snaps, and yelena’s smirk deepens. “you’ve been such a bitch lately, and now i see why. did y/n ditch you for him?” she asks with a hint of amusement, yet her eyes linger on your date longer than their supposed to. if natasha wanted to kill this guy, yelena already had five different ways to do it running through her mind. “no. i told you, i broke up with her. it was just a fling.” natasha lies horribly and yelena scoffs.

“a fling is that stupid thing you had with green superhero. what you had with her was different, and it’s gonna take a lot of convincing for you to make me believe you broke up with her.” yelena laughs, and natasha glowers at the younger woman, “and why exactly is me breaking up with her so hard to believe?” natasha inquires, causing yelena to shoot her a knowing expression. “because you’re in love with her.” yelena acknowledges, and the redhead tenses at the words. she knows they’re true. everyone in this damn room except for you knows it.

“she’s better without me.” natasha affirms, making yelena stare at her as if she’s gone crazy. “before we broke up, someone tried to hurt her. they broke in while i was on a mission and cut her face, yel. the police say it was a home invasion gone wrong.” natasha scoffs and yelena raises a brow. “you don’t think so?” she asks and natasha offers her a serious look. “it was a message. it had to have been. it made me realize just how many enemies i’ve made. she’s better off without me, because next time it won’t just be a cut to her face and i’d never forgive myself for it.” natasha hisses under her breath, and yelena purses her lips.

“yes, i felt the same before i let myself be happy with kate. but you have to realize danger is everywhere, right? that guy could murder her in her sleep and we wouldn’t even be prepared for it.” the blonde adds bluntly, and natasha’s eyes widen. “why the hell would you say that?!” the redhead asks with a hiss, and yelena rolls her eyes, “because it’s true. the only way you’re gonna be able to keep her safe is by protecting her, and how are you gonna do that from far away?” yelena asks pointedly.

the redhead looks over at you, and as if on cue, you look up and your eyes lock with hers. time stills as your eyes lock with those emerald green orbs. still as beautiful as ever. your breath gets caught in your throat, and within a second all of your progress in the past six months comes crumbling down. you get lost in her eyes for a split second, before looking away quickly. your chest aches as you swallow whats in your glass, and try to focus on whatever johnny and bucky are talking about.

natasha’s gaze is glued to your back for a good five seconds after that. yelena’s chuckle pulls her out of her trance. “you are both идиоты (idiots).” yelena confirms, and natasha shoots daggers at yelena with her eyes. natasha snatches the flask out of her sisters hands and finishes what’s left, causing yelena’s jaw to drop in offense. “that was the only vodka i brought!” the blonde is borderline pouting, causing natasha to roll her eyes. “i needed it more than you did. i’m getting out of here.” natasha remarks as she places the flask in yelena’s hands before the redhead walks away.

natasha turns her head to look at you one more time, except you’re no longer standing in the same place as you were before. natasha’s stomach burns with jealousy as she thinks about you going home with your date. she tries to push that thought far away as she exits the party, and makes her way to the elevator. now her mind is centering around you, and your laugh. how beautiful you looked tonight. you’re always so beautiful. her fists clench as the image of someone else with their arm around your waist is now branded into her mind. she knows she has no right to feel this way; but she still feels undeniably jealous.

as she steps outside of the building, her eyes lock with yours. you’re smoking a cigarette on your own. natasha freezes in her tracks right outside of the entrance of the building. neither of you make a move, or say a word. you blink a few times, your heart is pounding, and you can’t even bring yourself to say anything. she looks down at the cigarette in your right hand. “you smoke now?” she asks, and a wave of disbelief washes over you. she hasn’t dared to reach out for months, and the first thing she says to you when she sees you is that?

you shrug, keeping your composure. “i picked it up.” you respond curtly, as you turn away from her, and continue to smoke. natasha bites the inside of her cheek hard, refraining herself from saying anything, yet she doesn’t make any movement to walk away. “where’s your boyfriend?” she asks blandly, and you roll your eyes, your back still to her. “he’s not my boyfriend. we came in separate cars, and he left.” you respond simply, and she nods slowly. you’re still refusing to look at her, but she’s practically gaping at you.

“you look good.” she adds, breaking the short silence. you sigh as you toss your nearly finished cigarette on the ground. you turn to look at her, a deadly serious look in your eyes and it nearly makes the ex assassin gulp. “don’t do that.” you warn, causing natasha to knit her brows together, “do what?” she questions, and you flash her a pointed look. “the small talk. stop trying to pretend like you care about anything pertaining me. we don’t have to talk. ever. you can keep walking.” you say, gesturing your hand towards the parking lot. you swear a wave of hurt flashes through natasha’s eyes, but she regains herself quite quickly. she clears her throat, “i do care. i care about you so much.” she claims, and she takes a step closer to you. instinctively you take a step back; the hurt in her green, jewel colored orbs clear as day now.

“six months later and you’re still a liar? you know, you should have been an actress, natasha. i guess if you ever decide to quit the avengers, you have something to fall back on.” you snap as you start to walk away. “wait— please don’t go yet. i just wanted to apologize.” she tries, trailing behind you. you come to an abrupt stop, causing her to halt. you turn around, tears are in your eyes yet you look undoubtedly angry. “apologize? for what? for walking out on me when i needed you, or for wasting a year of my life with your lies?” you ask harshly, and her shoulders deflate. “i know what i said that night—“ she tries, but you cut her off.

pure rage flashes through your eyes, “don’t. that night... that night was the only honest night of our relationship. the rest of it was all a lie.” your voice is cruel, and natasha feels herself shrinking. is this how you felt that night? “please i—“ she tries, but you shake your head. “no, natasha. i don’t want to hear it. you’ve had months to try to talk to me, months to explain yourself. i’ve moved on.” you’re lying right through your teeth, but the way her face changes into an obvious pained expression is, in the moment satisfying. hurting her the way she hurt you feels good in this moment.

natasha looks down at her shoes, her throat aches and her eyes are burning with tears. she blinks them away quickly, nodding as she looks up at you. “can you— can you at least tell me that you’re happy? just tell me you’re happy without me, and i swear i’ll leave you alone. i won’t try to explain myself, or ever bother you again.” natasha swears, and you blink, your eyes set on hers. all you can hear are those words she said to you. those words you’ve heard in your head every night for the last six months. ‘i never loved you’. those nights making love to you, whispering how much she loved you in your ear; that was all a lie.

the bitter, furious expression etches itself onto your features, “i’m happy. much happier. thank you for leaving my life, it was the best thing you ever did for me.” you spit coldly, and the moment the words leave your mouth you regret them. the way her face looks; it’s as if you just slapped her. she backs away from you slowly, nodding as she pries her eyes away from you. her hands are at her side, and she’s standing there robotically, kind of like she has no idea what to do with herself. the anger leisurely exits your body, and suddenly, under the pale lighting of the moon, you can see just how broken natasha looks.

“i’m sorry for bothering you. goodnight.” her tone is barely above a whisper, and she turns around on her heels and quickly disappears back into the building. you stand there for what feels like ages; you don’t even realize you’re crying until you lick your lips and taste the salty tears mixed with the faded strawberry flavor of your lipgloss. she hurt you terribly, yet you can’t help but feel irrefutably guilty as you think about how she looked at you after those lies left your mouth just now. you weren’t happy without natasha; how could you be? you’ve just felt so used, hurt, and angry, you wanted to hurt her feelings like she hurt yours. it felt good for a few moments, but now you just feel awful.

you close your eyes and rub your palms across your stained cheeks, wiping your tears away roughly. at least you evened out the score now. who are you kidding? you’d let her win every battle if it meant she’d come back. but she doesn’t love you. why was she even trying to talk to you in the first place?

that night thoughts of natasha plague your mind. what explanation could she possibly have? what more could she need to say? didn’t she say everything she needed to the night she dumped you? you sigh, tossing and turning in your bed. this is for the better. being without her is better than being with someone who doesn’t really love you. regardless of how much it hurts. still, the look she gave you tonight is stuck in your brain.

all of your progress you’ve made over the last half year, seems to be lost. you realize how in love you still are with natasha as soon as you can’t stop thinking about her after that night. as soon as you realize no matter how much you want to, you can’t hate her. no matter how much she hurt you; no matter how used you feel... you still miss her more than anything. if you were being honest, all you wanted was for her to knock on your door and beg for your forgiveness. even though you know she doesn’t deserve it.

the weeks go on, and october rolls by. you break things off with johnny before he catches any serious feelings, and luckily, you get promoted at work so you don’t have to see him every day anymore. your financial life seems to be getting better, yet you can’t help but feel as if you’re living like a robot. living day to day; forcing yourself to eat, work, and breathe. a part of you lives with the constant nagging; that little voice in your head that makes you feel so small. it tells you horrible things.

‘you were never enough for nat.’

‘of course she lied about loving you, who would?’

‘you can’t do anything right today, it’s no wonder natasha left you so easily.’

‘she probably found someone better.’

of course, these thoughts aren’t happening 24/7, but they are getting more consistent. one week it gets so bad you don’t go a single night without crying. you call into work for three days straight before showing up and going right to tony’s office. you knock lightly, and he looks up from his laptop, smiling a friendly smile at you. “good morning, y/n! what can i do for ya?” he asks, and you flash him a watery smile. immediately the older man can see somethings wrong. your skirt and blouse, that are usually as prim and proper as you, are wrinkled. the bags under your eyes are evident, and it’s clear you aren’t wearing any makeup.

“good morning, mr. stark. i-i know i called out for a few days this week, but i have a few weeks of vacation time available... i was wondering if i could use a week of it?” you ask a bit nervously, looking down at your fingers while playing with them. “of course you can. though, you haven’t taken a vacation in years. is everything alright?” he asks, and you look up, nodding too quickly for his liking. “yup! everything’s fine! just planning on visiting my parents.” you lie. you haven’t visited your parents in years due to your rocky relationship with them.

he stares at you, seemingly unconvinced. he nods reluctantly, “alright... well, if you want to start your vacation today, you can. i’ll put it in right now.” he says, and you smile gratefully. “thank you, mr. stark. i’ll see you next week. have a wonderful day.” you muster up sincerely, and he smiles kindly at you. “you too. if you ever need to talk, just remember you’re not alone. you dated one of my best friends for a year, you became my friend.” he reminds and you smile sadly. “thank you, tony. i’m fine.” you lie, and he nods reluctantly.

“well, alright...” he trails off as he watches you walk out of his office. “don’t forget your sunscreen! vegas is sunny, even this time of year!” he warns, and this, earns a sincere chuckle from you.

tony tries to push the thought out of his mind, but he brings it up to pepper that night before bed. “i’m sure she’s just going through a hard time because of the breakup...?” pepper asks and he sighs, “that’s just it; over the last few months she’s been thriving! i even heard she had a thing with that johnny boy from HR. but after that party a few weeks ago things changed. i’m telling you, babe, the kids been a zombie at work. she called out for the last three days, and today she requested a week long vacation!” he admits, and pepper frowns.

“a vacation? since when does y/n ever want a vacation? she loves work...” pepper mutters, and tony flashes her an ‘i told you so’ expression. “was natasha at that party?” the blonde asks, and tony thinks for a moment, before nodding. “hey, you know now that i think about it, i think they sort of disappeared at the same time... do you— do you think they hooked up??” tony asks a bit scandalously. pepper laughs at her husbands love of gossip, “hmm... maybe. i don’t know... did natasha ever tell you why they broke up?” pepper asks curiously, and tony shakes his head.

“of course not. she just came back to the compound one night and asked for her old room back. we put two and two together when we stopped seeing y/n hanging around. i never asked y/n about it because it was right after her apartment got broken into. poor kid had to deal with that huge cut on her face, and a breakup. i didn’t want to pry.” tony confesses, and pepper furrows her eyebrows. “why would natasha break up with her right after that? i know natasha isn’t the most loving person, but we all know she was head over heels for y/n. there was no way she just decided to breakup with her for no reason. especially while y/n was going through that.” pepper points out.

tony makes a face, “i don’t know... nat’s kind of an ass...” he trails off jokingly, and pepper hits his shoulder, causing him to laugh. “i’m kidding. look, i go to the compound tomorrow to help peter train. i’ll ask nat about y/n. i’ll gather some more information for you.” he winks at his wife, making her giggle as she shakes her head in amusement. “normally i’d advise you not to get involved, but somebody needs to get those two back together already.” she huffs.

natasha hasn’t gotten more than an hour of sleep since her last encounter with you. seeing you look so beautiful, so happy without her makes her realize all her insecurities were true. you found someone better, someone who deserves your love and kindness. someone who can tell you how they feel without struggling with their emotions. someone who can hold you at night, and allow you to sleep without having nightmares that wake the both of you up. someone normal.

she’s been living on autopilot since she left you, and she has a feeling that’s not going to change. how is it that she can’t imagine her life before you? it was only a year... a year of your smiles, gentle touches, and delicate kisses. the purest love natasha has ever received. it’s no wonder she couldn’t return it the way she should have. she loves you. more than she’s ever loved anything. but she lost you, and she knows there’s no way to get you back.

“jeez, you look awful.” tony’s voice causes natasha to roll her eyes as she waits for the coffee machine to finish up her drink. she doesn’t even bother looking at the older man, “because you know so much about looking good.” she mutters under her breath and tony steps closer. he gets a look at the bags under natasha’s eyes, and the way her eyes are hard and fixated on her mug. “she’s miserable without you, you know?” tony asks, breaking the short silence. natasha tenses, she knows he’s talking about you. “that’s not what i saw.” she mumbles.

“the eyes can be deceiving.” he reminds, and natasha responds with silence. he sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair. “when are you going to stop this? you’re both miserable, and it’s obvious as hell that you don’t want to be here, nat. you want to be with her.” he says adamantly, and natasha slams her mug down onto the counter so hard it nearly shatters. “she’s safer without me, stark!” natasha snaps, and tony looks taken back for a moment.

“you don’t know what it’s like to have so many enemies you can’t even go on a mission without someone trying to hurt the person you love.” natasha’s voice is stern, and her brows are pinched together while her eyes are glossy. tony looks at her for a second without saying anything, “that guy who broke into her old apartment... it wasn’t a robbery gone wrong was it?” he asks and natasha’s jaw tenses before she answer. “no. it wasn’t.” she retorts bluntly, but the way she’s still refusing to meet tony’s eyes shows him just how much this has been eating her up.

“you know, no matter how wrong you think you are for her, nobody gets to decide that but her. i can’t tell you she’s never going to get hurt, and i can’t tell you if that fear of her getting hurt when you aren’t around will ever go away. trust me, i know that fear, natasha. but i also know love, and so do you. you can’t just pretend not to love someone because you’re afraid of the outcome. i’ve known you for eleven years now, and never once have i seen you as happy as you are with her.” he points out, and natasha snaps her mouth shut.

“she’s with somebody else now.” natasha announces, and tony scoffs. “who, johnny from HR? word around the office is they stopped seeing each other last month. right after that party i threw here.” he says and natasha’s entire expression changes. she turns her head to look at him, searching his face for any sign of dishonesty. “w-why?” natasha asks, and he flashes her a knowing look, “i’ll give you three guesses but you only need one.” he taunts, and natasha chews on the inside of her cheek.

“she doesn’t want to talk to me. in fact, at the shield party she told me she was happier without me.” natasha swallows thickly as she remembers your exact words. tony rolls his eyes as he crosses his arms, “happier? natasha, she spent the last six and a half months throwing herself into work and refusing to say your name. then all of a sudden she sees you at the shield party and she’s missing work, and using her pto?” he asks, and natasha pauses, scrunching her brows together. “she’s missing work? she never misses work, she loves work.” natasha says, more to herself than to tony.

the older man flashes the redhead a look, “i know. which is why i’m worried about you both. you should go check on her.” he urges, causing natasha to shoot daggers at him with her eyes. “go see her?? i don’t even have her new address!” she hisses and he raises his brows. she falters for a moment, “okay... maybe i have the address... but i don’t have the apartment number!” she proclaims, and tony shakes his head, chuckling. “apartment 345. seriously, nat, think about going to check on her. even if it doesn’t mend your relationship, at least you’ll know she’s alright.” he says simply, before stealing the fresh coffee natasha hasn’t even taken a sip of yet.

she glowers at him as he slips away, making her sigh in defeat. she knows she can’t keep living like this. living without you.

it takes natasha two whole days to work up the courage to show up at your apartment. even after she’s standing right in front of your door. she looks down at her boots and sighs. what is she doing? she can’t try to win you back after all those things she said. “natasha?” your voice from behind her causes her to freeze. “what are you doing here?” you ask with a handful of grocery bags. she turns around to see you; you in your oversized flannel jacket and ripped jeans, along with a cropped top. you furrow your eyebrows because she’s staring at you as if she’s looking at you for the first time.

“how did you get my address?” you ask uncertainly, and your face changes. “you’re a spy. you literally are a professional at gathering intel... i’ll stop asking stupid questions now.” you mutter as you nudge her to the side softly to get to your door. you push it open and your greeted with your german shepherd puppy, “hi sweetheart.” you greet her and natasha eyes the dog who comes rushing over to her and starts jumping around her legs.

“that’s winnie. i got her last month.” you admit, and you sigh tiredly as you see a pee stain on the wooden floor. “she’s still learning how to live as a civilized lady.” you admit as you set the bags on the counter and walk over to the mop near your kitchen. you look up and see natasha kneeling down and stroking your puppy’s head, the sight tugs on your heartstrings. “she’s cute.” natasha confirms, and you smirk as you mop up winnie’s mess. “thanks...” you trail off as a silence washes over you both.

“would you—“

“i just came by to—“

you both start speaking simultaneously, causing you to bite your bottom lip. she stares at you, silently offering you to go first. “would you like something to drink? i can make hot chocolate.” you ask calmly, and she shakes her head. “no thank you... i just... i know i promised to leave you alone... but i... i can’t stop thinking about you. i’ve felt like i’ve been living my life on autopilot without you. i’m sorry. i know i shouldn’t be here, but i’ve never felt this way before.” she confesses, standing by the front door, her emerald eyes pouring into yours as she stares at you with an expression you can’t even read. she looks even more broken than when you last saw her.

your fingers are playing with the ends of your flannel jacket, and you stare at her for awhile. “wh-why did you do that? you lied to me for a year. a whole year, natasha.” your voice cracks as you speak, and you mentally curse yourself for it. natasha’s fingernails dig into her palm as she clenches her fists, and she shakes her head. “no. the time we spent together was the greatest time of my life. i lied to you that night. i... you don’t understand, that man who broke in, he wasn’t just an intruder... i put you in danger. i have too many enemies, and i knew you wouldn’t just let me go. so i hurt you, and i’m sorry.” natasha sounds full of shame and regret, and your brows scrunch together in confusion and a bit of anger.

“so you lied?? you said all of those horrible things so it’d be easier for me to let you go?? natasha— it wasn’t any easier for me to let you go! it felt like someone cut a hole in my chest!” you’re nearly shouting, your hand over your chest in emphasis. natasha shuts her eyes, a ragged breath escaping her lips as she tries to ignore the tears threatening to leave her eyes. when she opens them again, you can see the tears brimming in those emerald orbs, “i’m sorry... i’m so sorry, i thought you’d be better without me...” her voice is faint and your heart cracks in your chest at the sight of her. “why would you think that? i love you, natasha. you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” you say sincerely, and this causes her heart to flutter. natasha doesn’t even realize she’s crying until she can feel the tears streaming down her cheeks, and falling off her jaw onto her collarbone.

“you love me again...?” she asks in complete shock. you shake your head, your own eyes full of tears. “i never stopped, nat.” you confess earnestly, and her bottom lip is quivering as her tears won’t stop. “i’m sorry, detka. i’m so sorry i left you. i love you so much, i always have.” her hands are shaking and it’s like your body has a mind of its own as you walk over to her slowly. you carefully inch up to her with your arms open, and her heart palpitates against your chest as she gladly reaches for you and pulls you against her.

her strong embrace engulfs you, and the smell of her makes you start to sob. you don’t know how long you two are standing there like this. your arms around her waist and her arms around your neck, holding you to her chest. your tears were surely staining her shirt, but you didn’t care. you’ve missed her so much, she’s all you’ve been able to think about for months. “you can’t just do that, nat. you can’t— you can’t just make decisions for my benefit without talking to me about it.” you say sternly as you push her away, looking up at her with a stringent expression, yet the widow could see the vulnerability seeping through.

“i promise i’ll never leave you again, detka. not as long as i’m breathing.” she swears, as she pulls you in again, kissing your head as she keeps you held tightly. that’s a promise natasha intends to keep.

2K notes · View notes