Good Ways Not to Die

Before you go on, discard everything you think you know about me: files, statistics, stories, even "facts". When the line between reality and fiction blurs, then you have entered my world. You believe me, or you don't, but either way, you will never be certain of what you believe in. Now that we've gotten that out of the way. Where were we? (Closed RP blog for West Coast Avengers RP)

[asheathes]

THE MOVIE WE ALL REALLY NEED: BLACK WIDOW ↳ “You are so precious to me, Natalia. So precious. Now show me what you are capable of.”

[hermiola]

In which Clint would like Natasha to suggest season-appropriate plans.

[soviet-legacy]

Spy Besties ll Barton & Romanoff

Dawn deepened. The cloudless sky turned a deep shade of red - the color bounced off of the curls, melting the color into that of dripping blood. A heavy silence lingered in the air, melting away the tension of the city life that sat in her shoulders. It was times like this that she savored the silence, tasting it on her tongue. None would disturb the silence. Not in this part of town. Not on this roof. Not until… A glance at her watch. Not until seven minutes.

The world was funny in that it could be one thing and then the next. There, the deadly spider crouched under the dying sun, accompanied by none but the hunt and survival boiling in its blood. The next, the silence shattered into pieces by the shrill beep that pierced through the silence like a blade.

She almost dropped the VKS.

The world was far less peaceful outside of a rifle scope. A huff of a breath, and even the silent breath of air was laced with exasperation. The sound had not rang again, but she could have never missed the familiar tone. Slowly, ever so slowly so as to not disturb the carefully crafted balance and position of the rifle, a palm-sized black device was slipped from her belt.

Natasha was not careless; far from it. Once, she was taught that everything intangible - emotions, trust, friendship - was useless and manipulated. So what it took for her to give Barton the one tangible symbol of trust: the phone. A piece of technology crafted in Soviet design - the one thing that government did right - assured with protection from tracing and interference. Only one other held the exact replica of the one always embedded into the corner of her belt. Of course, she had told him to use it only in a life-or-death situation.

Five minutes. Underneath her thumb, the faint red light gave its confirmation to her identity, before the light formed into two words splayed across the midnight screen. Call Connected. “You better be dying.” Knowing it was Clint, that was not be a surprise.

[soviet-legacy]

Lie to Me ll LeBeau & Romanoff

[soviet-legacy]

“They only bite if you tease an’ poke ‘em too much,” he countered. Natasha had always been the one woman who could always throw him off his game and keep him on his toes. It was something Remy both loved and hated about the woman.

Remy watched the kitten perk up and look at Natasha before turning back to the soup. So its name was Liho? Interesting name for a cat, but who was he to judge. The way she looked at him when she said ‘house-trained’ confirmed, in his mind at least, that she had been talking about him this whole time. He’d learned not to take the things she said too personally, but it was hard not to take her jabs to heart. Natasha had a way of getting under people’s skin and to Remy she seemed to enjoy making him squirm.

The comment about the pizza made him stare at the food before tossing it into the trash. He saw the corner of her mouth quirk up, leaning towards a faint smile upon seeing his disgust at the pizza. “Clint’s got good taste in food an’ other things, but a few habits dat need work.” Remy made a face at the fridge. Guess he’d have to go out and get something edible later.

“So Liho’s yours? Never took you fo’ someone ta keep pets, Natasha.” Remy looked from the black cat to the red headed woman. She didn’t seem particularly interested in the cat. Figaro decided to jump from the counter and test that. The white kitten jumped down and circled Natasha’s feet. He meowed at her and pawed at her foot. “I think he likes you,” Remy teased. The tags of the kitten’s collar jingled as he jumped and tried to get her to play with him.

She was a paradox in existence. To be in a conversation with Natasha was to be in a dance with her as lead; each step, each movement, she takes its reins. Her partner can know everything but nothing at the same time, as if every step starts a new and unpredictable dance. The scariest part was that Natasha knew this perfectly. So she let the stray metaphor drop, knowing that it was easier to play with a cliffhanger than a metaphor extended and stretched for too long.

Green eyes seemingly lit even under the light that spilt from the curtains, the black cat’s slim figure hopped from the counter; not a sound was heard from its movements. Like a hunter, it stalked the movements of the white kitten, snaking in its proximity. Only when the redhead reached down for the kitten, did its smooth movements change into a sudden leap, cutting off the path of the kitten before leaping into the lap of its selected owner.

It was met with the familiar look of exasperation followed by the click of the tongue in distaste, but never did Natasha drop the cat, now seated comfortably in her lap. If she did not know any better, it almost looked like jealousy. “It’s not mine,” She made no motion to make the position any more comfortable for it, but Liho’s posture made it appear as one of contentment. “I fed it; it followed me back.” The tower was certainly big enough for a stray. “Figured Clint would take it under his wing.” Clint would take anything under his wing.

It was a simple story, devoid of stray comments. So was the question that followed. “How long?” Underneath her arm, the black cat hissed at the kitten before its expression returned to that of tranquility. “You and Clint.” She has been away for a while, but not long enough to allow the spy to miss the smallest of details.

[soviet-legacy]

Lie to Me ll LeBeau & Romanoff

[soviet-legacy]

“They only bite if you tease an’ poke ‘em too much,” he countered. Natasha had always been the one woman who could always throw him off his game and keep him on his toes. It was something Remy both loved and hated about the woman.

Remy watched the kitten perk up and look at Natasha before turning back to the soup. So its name was Liho? Interesting name for a cat, but who was he to judge. The way she looked at him when she said ‘house-trained’ confirmed, in his mind at least, that she had been talking about him this whole time. He’d learned not to take the things she said too personally, but it was hard not to take her jabs to heart. Natasha had a way of getting under people’s skin and to Remy she seemed to enjoy making him squirm.

The comment about the pizza made him stare at the food before tossing it into the trash. He saw the corner of her mouth quirk up, leaning towards a faint smile upon seeing his disgust at the pizza. “Clint’s got good taste in food an’ other things, but a few habits dat need work.” Remy made a face at the fridge. Guess he’d have to go out and get something edible later.

“So Liho’s yours? Never took you fo’ someone ta keep pets, Natasha.” Remy looked from the black cat to the red headed woman. She didn’t seem particularly interested in the cat. Figaro decided to jump from the counter and test that. The white kitten jumped down and circled Natasha’s feet. He meowed at her and pawed at her foot. “I think he likes you,” Remy teased. The tags of the kitten’s collar jingled as he jumped and tried to get her to play with him.

She was a paradox in existence. To be in a conversation with Natasha was to be in a dance with her as lead; each step, each movement, she takes its reins. Her partner can know everything but nothing at the same time, as if every step starts a new and unpredictable dance. The scariest part was that Natasha knew this perfectly. So she let the stray metaphor drop, knowing that it was easier to play with a cliffhanger than a metaphor extended and stretched for too long.

Green eyes seemingly lit even under the light that spilt from the curtains, the black cat’s slim figure hopped from the counter; not a sound was heard from its movements. Like a hunter, it stalked the movements of the white kitten, snaking in its proximity. Only when the redhead reached down for the kitten, did its smooth movements change into a sudden leap, cutting off the path of the kitten before leaping into the lap of its selected owner.

It was met with the familiar look of exasperation followed by the click of the tongue in distaste, but never did Natasha drop the cat, now seated comfortably in her lap. If she did not know any better, it almost looked like jealousy. “It’s not mine,” She made no motion to make the position any more comfortable for it, but Liho’s posture made it appear as one of contentment. “I fed it; it followed me back.” The tower was certainly big enough for a stray. “Figured Clint would take it under his wing.” Clint would take anything under his wing.

It was a simple story, devoid of stray comments. So was the question that followed. “How long?” Underneath her arm, the black cat hissed at the kitten before its expression returned to that of tranquility. “You and Clint.” She has been away for a while, but not long enough to allow the spy to miss the smallest of details.

[soviet-legacy]

Fighting the Elderly ll Rogers & Romanoff

[soviet-legacy]

supersoldierfrombrooklyn:

She wasn’t going easy on him (as if she ever would), and Steve is wondering just why he gets himself in these situations. Normal people take up knitting or bird watching to relax and calm themselves, but no; he just had to go and become what he’s heard Sam call a ‘Gym Rat’. Some higher power really does have it out for him sometimes.

The blonde feels like a complete idiot for letting memories of a life that doesn’t exist anymore take over during a fight; even if it is just a practice match against a friend. Pushing all thoughts considered irrelevant to what was going on now, he tries his best to get the upper-hand when given the chance. He doesn’t quite expect Natasha to go for his foot again though and falls to the ground in a clumsy and inelegant movement.

With his position now, he feels like the only fair thing to do is repay the action, though completely ignoring her advice. Without even blinking from the time he hits the ground, the super soldier kicks his leg out to sweep hers out from under her as quickly as he can with as much force as he can. Natasha usually told him not to hold back, so maybe it was about time he listen for once.

“Why are you still awake?” he tries to make some sort of conversation (as best as he can, anyways), genuinely interested in what brought her to the training area. Steve’d been under the impression she was out of town; so why was a woman who had just gotten back from a mission trying to kick his ass instead of rest?

About damn time. He was finally learning, but that did not spell well for her. It meant that there was less play and more effort to be exerted into every move. 

He went for the legs. The quick movement and heightened pain against her ankle was to be expected from the host of the super soldier serum. There were two options then. Stand her ground and clench her teeth through the pain or let the pain take over and fall. The latter put her into a vulnerable state, but it would ease the forced pain. In training, she was not going to push it. 

Her weight would have fallen against him, but the split second before she did, the spy eased the weight from her legs until her arms locked against his arms, using that as leverage before her knee came up against his chest. Faint drops of sweat clung to her forehead then, and her breaths came out in quickened huffs. “Same reason as you,” He was in a really bad position underneath her. “Can’t sleep.” The simplest explanation, but gave away nothing of what she knew he wanted to hear. 

“Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff,” Her green eyes rose at the referral, the light catching against the hint of annoyance that played in her eyes. Talk about bad timing. However, the A.I. made no further comments, and in the silent background, the glass walls of the training room lit up in a projection. And the voice of the president filled the room. 

[supersoldierfrombrooklyn]

What Are Friends For? || Rogers & Wilson (+ Romanoff)

[soviet-legacy]

lovemethemcoconuts:

Much to Sam’s relief, Sarah was enchanted by Steve, as he knew she would be. At least she’s not gonna kill me, today. he thought rubbing the back of his head slowly. He watched in minimal interest as she grabbed Steve’s hand and launched herself at him so she had her arms wrapped around his torso. Well, I guess she ain’t hungry for food nomore. He sniggered to himself.

The side eye she gave him would have killed a weaker man. “It’s so nice to meet you!” she beamed as she closed her eyes and hugged tighter. Her voice had changed. It was disgustingly sweet now.

It wasn’t until he saw her eyes pop open at the sound of Natasha’s name that he realized he had forgotten something. Oh, shit. Instant panic replaced his amusement.

Sarah released Steve as Natasha kept speaking and a grin spread across her face. “Natasha?” she asked after waiting for her to finish. “Oh…my…God.” she whispered in awe as she moved towards the smaller woman. She then slid her right arm through Steve’s left and her left arm through Natasha’s right.

“E’ry body!” she shouted into the house as she started steering them inside. “Sam’s boo is fo real!”

There was a massive cheer from inside the house.  

Sam was left frozen on the doorstep. Thoughts of running back to the car and leaving flashed by him but his feet simply would not move.

supersoldierfrombrooklyn:

Steve’s a bit confused when Sam’s sister hugs him tightly.  With a glance over at his best friend, there’s a brief thought that maybe he’d underestimated the weight of the clothing advice that’d been given earlier. Until then he’d sorta been standing there awkwardly with Sarah hugging him, so he tries his best to now take a step back and break the hug (and her hold on him).

Natasha provides the perfect distraction and the super soldier who had fought actual Nazis is found edging to put Sam in the path between himself and Sarah.

Hearing Natasha referred to as anyone’s ‘boo’ is enough to shock him, though the fact that presumably Sam had told his family that she was going steady with him was absolutely hilarious. There’s no force on Earth that could control his snickering now, except for maybe a glare from the Widow.

Looking over at Natasha, he raises an eyebrow, “Something you’re not telling me, Romanoff?”.

All of that confidence goes out the window as soon as they’re steered into the house though- small family gathering my ass, half of Harlem is there. When pushed in front of the crowd, all Steve can do is give an awkward wave to the room and his best smile.

There were very little things that can manage to catch the spy off guard. Upon the reiteration of her name in question, the woman found herself furrowing her brows. Because in the tone of recognition hinged something else. Surprise? Excitement? Captain America was famous, and the Black Widow was infamous, but her suspicions were soon proven to be void when the single sentence followed the exclamation. 

Her brow rose higher than ever. Boo? The blonde mirrored her reaction, but hers soon morphed into a pointed look that dared Steve to ask more. “A lot of things,” Sam’s sister was already pulling them through the door. “That is not one of them.” 

There were very little things that can catch her off guard, but through the unexpected circumstances and events, the least she could do was put up a show. So Wilson was a little liar. Well, he certainly found the wrong target to lie about. In the midst of the crowd, the faint tug of the lips found on Natasha’s expressions bordered a cunning nature before it was soon replaced by that uncannily amiable grin. 

And with contrast to Steve’s awkward demeanor, the redhead’s comfortable stature was a breath of fresh air. “Honey!” There was that playfulness that would soon make him regret ever speaking her name to his family. Of course, for the moment, she would savor it. At the doors to the household, somehow free from Sarah’s grasps, the spy smiled that enigmatic grin. “Let’s not keep them waiting.” 

[the-girlwhowouldbeking-blog]

There’s a hole in my soul; can you fill it, can you fill it?

[0tterp0p]

Clint + Liho + Nat + Lucky. Psst, its-nora-borealis, this one’s for you :) :) :)

(PS I have a thing for Natasha in Keds)

[soviet-legacy]

Fighting the Elderly ll Rogers & Romanoff

[soviet-legacy]

supersoldierfrombrooklyn:

One thing he’s learned over the years about Natasha Romanoff is that even in a practice match, she takes things very seriously; sparing no moves and having little boundaries for what moves were and were not legal. In that regard he hated sparring with Natasha, even if he did trust her with his life at this point in their friendship.

Damn, she didn’t fall for it, Steve attempts to comprehend her movements, finally catching up with them when he finds an uncomfortable pressure against his throat.

The sudden slow in his ability to breathe, though still possible, sends red flags throughout his mind; the feeling way too similar to dealing with asthma in the humid summers of 1930’s New York. Often he was unable to get a deep breath in or when he did, it felt like his lungs were turning into miniature swimming pools inside of him.

Here he’s able to push down the panic and focus in on her words as he works against her hold.  "Yeah?“ he manages to get out, not really concerned about that nurse right now, seeing as how he’s starting to feel the full effect of her legs and weight working against him.

To be honest, he doesn’t trust himself to control his strength right now; not with the bit of panic and lack of sleep slowly affecting his movements as it.

He was struggling. Six seconds. That was enough time for her to incapacitate him two times over. The panic that seemingly surged through his body, the faint gasps of breath, the heightened pulse faintly felt against her thighs, what was it? It almost bordered an asthma attack.

“You’re heavier than me,” For the moment, she would ease the teasing. “Use that. My weight against your shoulders, throw yourself forward.” Take a fall in exchange for the momentary break from her chokehold. Of course, such strategic thoughts often escape victims in the midst of panic. She never did give them as much time as she was giving Steve right now either.

The release of her thighs was followed by the rush of air that would enter his lungs, but in the split second that the luxury of breathing would be handed to him on a silver platter, the spy was already on her feet. “But if I let you do that,” The swing of her legs hooked onto his dominant foot, pulling it out from underneath him before she slammed her weight into the man.

“Well, that would just be stupid of me.” The rise and fall of her chest signalled the quickening of her breaths. The woman did not have the luxury of peaked human capabilities. And making a conversation during training was not her best choice at a pastime.

[soviet-legacy]

A Spy’s House Call ll Romanoff & Xavier

[weaponofthemind-deactivated2016]

weaponofthemind:

It was a truth universally known that a single man of want must be in need of a challenge, and Charles just couldn’t seem to breath without one coming his way.

“I spoke to Pietro Maximoff the other day,” He mentioned. “Found him by a coffee shop. Was loudly wondering about the world, about mutants and I extended a helping hand. It was strange at first, I’m not accustomed to people not recognizing me, but he didn’t. It was refreshing to say the least,” Charles doesn’t mention that he gently tapped Pietro’s mind, and that which seemed to go at full speed, incredibly fast, refused to slow down to Charles pace.

Needless to say, that was impressive.

“I informed him about the possibility as well, he seemed frustrated, but curious,” He took a card from one of the drawers of his old oak desk. “Gave him a card, told him to think it over and come back to me if he was interested in knowing more. I assume he went to consult his sister, so maybe, Miss Romanoff,” And here was where Charles couldn’t resist, turning off the English charm and turning on something much more cold, calculating, offended that the spy had dared to fight against. “It won’t be such a challenge after all.”

[soviet-legacy]

The gentle raise of the brow.

She knew this game; though of all the people, she would not have expected the Professor to play it with her. In a way, it was a struggle for dominance with the childish ‘I know something that you don’t’ laced between every word. The formal meeting now morphed into a battle with both sides masking the struggle with formality and courtesy. This, she can work with.

That did not mean Natasha enjoyed any moment of it. In fact, this little piece of information could have saved her a trip. Though the smile never faltered, and she met his daring words head-on. “I appreciate you telling me this,” There was flat irony laced between those words. Ever so gently, with no movement that would imply offense, the woman gingerly plucked the card from between his fingers. “You are certainly far more interesting than what the media has on you, Professor.”

It was both a prize and a curse to gain the interest of the spy. “Though some challenges you would do well to be wary of.” Her hand laid gently against the handle of his wheelchair. For a moment, and only a moment, those green eyes were stripped of the cordial apathy and met his gaze with what could only describe as bordering a dare. When the moment passed, she had straightened with that same smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Expect a call from me.” The business card flipped between her fingers before her hand hid it from view.

Perhaps a phone call would have been far more feasible than a house call, but one thing was for certain. A phone call could not have displayed before her the mystery of the mutant professor.

[soviet-legacy]

After Hours ll Howlett & Romanoff

[soviet-legacy]

im-the-best-at-what-i-do:

Her scent lingered in the hallway, mixing with the everyday smells Logan associated with the mansion. It’d meant a lot of things over the years; made that slow shift from imminent threat to comfortably familiar. Shouldn’t’ve been surprising, finding it here, not with things the way they were. Natasha always did know how to play the field to her best advantage.

The trail led to downstairs, the front door, the shiny car sittin’ in the drive. An official visit, then. No use going to find her. She didn’t like being interrupted, and odds were she and Chuck had a lot to talk about.

Those twins, for starters.

His cigar burned out while he waited; out of sight but still obvious to anyone with Natasha’s skills. He huffed when she called him out, ignoring the jab about the car. Anyone else, Logan might’ve done it on principle.

“Nice to see you too, Red.”

The slam of the car door was followed by the silent rumble of the engine. Never once did she even cast him a look, waiting until the second slam of the car door was heard before stepping on the gas. The vehicle pulled out smoothly from the lawn with perfect precision before it rolled away from the glaring extravagance of the X-Mansion.

“Nice place,” It was then that she started talking; those piercing green eyes chose moments of driving to cast him an ironic glance. The mansion was no doubt better than the shit hole he was in before. Not that they ever minded back then. Some things take a change for the better at the least expected times. “Maybe I should come visit more often.” The woman could make the most ridiculous lies sound plausible. If Natasha could help it, she was not stepping foot inside the mansion again. It was nothing about the extravagance but everything about who and what was in it. Something tells her that the luxury of a refusal was not going to be given to her in this new line of work.

She needed a vacation.

“It’s been a while.” No joke on the alcohol smell though; already, the car was pervaded with the traces of cigar and alcohol. Somehow, she is not at all surprised. “How’s my favorite kitty cat?” Flat mockery was an attribute to the enigmatic spy that did often find time for amusement. Causing uneasiness was both a part of her job and a hobby, but with Logan, she would have to go a long way.

Some things never did change.

[supersoldierfrombrooklyn]

What Are Friends For? || Rogers & Wilson (+ Romanoff)

[soviet-legacy]

lovemethemcoconuts:

A new panic to wipe out the other two thoughts rose over Sam. Natasha was here. Natasha was in the car and they were on their way to see his family.Nope. That was not going to happen. Not a chance in Hell was he letting that harpy anywhere near his family, they’d like her far too much. “You ain’t going any-“ he started when he realized that in his shock his subconscious had led them to the house. It was directly in front of them. No matter. I’ll just turn a- his thought was immediately stopped by the death stare he was getting from the woman on the front steps.

“Damn it.” He breathed as he parked the car on the street in front of the house. His sister looked like she was about to eat him. He hated that look. He hadn’t lied to Steve, the phrase ‘Angry Black Woman’ had been coined because of Sarah Wilson. She never had any patience but when she was hungry, all reason went out the door too. He couldn’t believe his life right now. All he wanted to do was be a good friend and now his life was about to end.

“This is it. For God’s sake, stay in the car till I motion to you.” He saw his life flash before his eyes as he took a deep breath. The moment he opened the door, she started in, as he knew she would. “AND just WHERE in the HELL have YOU been?” her voice sounded like a screech in his ear. “Sarah.” He muttered. She ignored him, like he knew she would. “YOU  were sposed to be here an HOUR ago. WHAT you think jus cause you an Avenger now, we ain’t worth your time?” A blush crept over Sam’s cheeks as he waited for his turn to speak. He knew this was going to happen but it would have been so much less embarrassing if Steve had been the only one in the car.

“SARAH!” he shouted as he closed his door and started walking towards her. “You know it ain’t like that. I just had to pick up my friends.” He said calmly as he motioned back to the car. Her response was to make a disbelieving face. “What friends? You ain’t got no…” she froze when she saw Steve in the passenger seat. Her eyes lit up and then went dark again as she turned back to Sam. Her hand came down hard against the back of his head. “BOY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! LETTIN ME EMBARRASS MYSELF!” she shouted as she turned back to the car. Her demeanor changed instantaneously again. A bright smile crossed her lips as she motioned for Natasha and Steve to join them.

supersoldierfrombrooklyn:

Steve’s almost tempted to let Sam take Natasha elsewhere, but knows better than to say something about it. She was good in social situations so there couldn’t be any harm in her presence at a small family gathering.

“Yeah, I know. No one let’s me forget it, ” he mutters in response to the spy as they pull into a driveway. He stays put when Sam exits ahead of them. Eyes scanning the woman on the steps, he chuckles, “Huh, so that’s what hangry looks like. Yeah, i can see how the term fits her now.”.

You couldn’t have paid him enough to go into the fray with Sarah Wilson after the exchange he’s seeing. The motion comes and he looks back at Natasha, “That’s out cue.”.

Outside of the car he takes in the surroundings as well as one can while walking towards a recently-pissed off woman and Sam. A look is given over his shoulder to make sure Natasha’d followed after, though he figured she wouldn’t want to sit in the car after no one’s filled her in on the whole subject. Steve stops at the bottom of the porch and greets Sarah with a smile.

“Nice to meet you, ma'am, I’m Steve,” he offers a hand out for a handshake, “Sam’s told me all about you- all good things, of course.”.

The flood of embarrassment is hard to suppress but he can’t reply on the suit to save him all of the time.

Something told her that a variety of insults was going through Sam’s head right now, and each and every single one was directed at her. That did not bother her; in fact, the redhead savored it, just as she savored the sudden panic that seemingly ruptured through Sam’s expression when the vehicle came to a slowed stop. “Yes, sir,” The mocking snark followed the man out of the car. As if he ever believed that she would follow through on that demand.

Natasha did not like being out of the loop. Hence, the reason why she had a control over all things at all times. From files to whispered rumors, the spy kept an eye on information no one else bothered to gather or consider. Expect the worst, live another day. Which was why she recognized the yelling figure against the doorsteps instantly.

“Good choice on the outfit. Still isn’t going to save you,” Was the last thing the redhead voiced against his shoulder. Anything more fitting and Natasha was too sober to stay around for the results.

So from the seat, the woman straightened her position, pulling the car door open before removing herself from the vehicle. “Sarah Wilson huh?” Beside Sam, Natasha stopped, the smile covering the barely audible commentary as Steve stepped forth to introduce himself. “Living proof that files don’t tell you everything about a person.” What? She was the only one sensible enough to read up on the files of their teammates’ friends, family, etc.?

The smile never faltered. Instead of the mocking, enigmatic smile she often gave the two, the one that was plastered across her expression was amiable. “Natasha,” It was a simple introduction behind Steve’s formal one. “We’re very sorry for the delay. There were a few unexpected bumps along the road.” She could make anything sound sincere. Perhaps that was precisely what Sam was afraid of.

[soviet-legacy]

Fighting the Elderly ll Rogers & Romanoff

[soviet-legacy]

supersoldierfrombrooklyn:

He had been about to ask a question to ease the look of confusion ever growing on his face; finding a few logical meanings but not wanting to be completely wrong when he’s met by Natasha Romanoff flinging herself at him and knocking the air out of his lungs in a way that he can only compare to the asthma attacks he had before the serum.

Her hold is, for the most part, incapacitating. Most people who have seen Steve fight understand that in theory he knows exactly what he’s doing, though when it comes time to actually throw a punch he’s just floundering around and hoping to God that the shield hits something. Currently, this is neither a good or bad thing; because instead of working to free his appendages, he focuses on wiggling around to find an opening.

There’s always been some moral conflict when it came to sparring with Natasha. The super soldier knew that she could hold her own and would have approximately zero problems kicking his ass if he hesitated, but Steve Rogers had been raised to respect a woman and that certainly hadn’t included the move he was about to try.

Finding that she hadn’t restrained his neck or head in any way and judging the approximate distance between the two of them, he headbutts her. He’s hoping to cause enough pain to cause her focus to shift for even a moment, not anywhere close to using his full strength. Anything powerful enough to break through a wall when running too fast should be left for non-friendlies.

He was still holding back; that would be Steve’s downfall. She has seen the way he fights; from New York to D.C. to Sokovia, the man retains the style taught to soldiers of a time when strategy and tactics were left to those commanding the group. The battlefield was chaos. Amidst that chaos, how many Soviet trained spies took advantage of the flailing soldiers without even a hint of their knowledge? 

Too many. At times, they needed people like that - people with quick-thinking in the light of panic and chaos. This was not one of those times. 

He went for the head. Had she loosened her grip, Natasha would have given him the upper hand. So as the sudden pain erupted against her forehead, and the redhead winced at the impact, she used that single second to tighten her grip against his wrists, using them as little leverage she needed to lift her feet from the ground. “You know,” The two words were ushered out in a breath just before she wrapped her body around him, her legs moving for his neck just as the spy placed her entire weight against the small point on his back, until she twisted her body enough to push against the weight. “That nurse I told you to call.” It was just like her to put small talk into a move that dangerous. 

“She’s working for the C.I.A. now.” It was almost as if she was not trying to choke him out in the process. 

[likesilverandblue-blog]

Send me a ☼ and I will write how my muse truly feels about yours.

[supersoldierfrombrooklyn]

What Are Friends For? || Rogers & Wilson (+ Romanoff)

[soviet-legacy]

lovemethemcoconuts:

My eyes WERE on the road till you popped up like a damn, ninja. Sam had planned on yelling at the woman in his backseat. But when the man to his right cursed, he almost had to look over at him to make sure he was real. Did he just?

Another blow to his reality came crashing in as Natasha said the words ‘regret kissing you.’ Did she just? “Regret what now?” was all he could say. “Where the Hell did that come from?!” his eyes felt like they were going to pop out of his head. “You two?!” his mind was attempting to process things that prior to this moment he would have never believed possible. Sam brought his right hand off the steering wheel and rubbed his cheek. “I think this is what goin’ crazy feels like.” he muttered, mostly to himself.

Steve just said ‘Jesus Fucking Christ.’ Nat just said they kissed. Where am I? What is happening? Is this the twilight zone? Is Loki back making me see shit? Is this a dream? Am I even real? These were the thoughts going through his mind as he stared straight at the road, his fingers splayed against his cheek and his mouth gaping.

He had forgotten where they were going or why. Nothing seemed to matter anymore since clearly this could not possibly be reality. He didn’t even hear ‘Shut Up and Dance’ come on which was a shame because if he had it would have made him feel so much better.

supersoldierfrombrooklyn:

It’s never sat well with him that the others assumed he didn’t curse- it was more that he disliked the casual uses of the words that happened nowadays. Besides, when you were used to being a public figure, it was just easier to try and not do it at all in fear of slipping up in front of the wrong people.

“What, don’t give me that; I was in the military, after all,” Steve shrugs at the look given to him by Sam and the comment from Natasha, before  sending his attention her way. “Somehow I don’t think that’d fly with the government…. and can we not bring that up again?”

The blonde’s cheeks are tinted red from the memory, even if it was just for a mission. He didn’t think of Nat as anything more than a friend, but to admit that had been his first kiss since 1945 would be way too embarrassing in itself, much less that it had been to maintain their cover rather than because he’d gotten a date.

Same is looking distressed on his farther left, which is somewhere between concerning and amusing to Steve. On one hand it was always fun to mess around, though usually not when a vehicle is involved. “You gonna be okay over there?”

In regards to what the woman in the back seat added, he rolls his eyes, “Glad you’re entertained.”.

It was a hobby to cause discomfort in those within her proximity. In this case, the spy managed to hit two birds with one stone, causing two different signs of discomfort rouse in her friends’ reactions. “Hands on the wheel,” It was not as if Natasha really needed to worry about Sam’s driving skills; anyone that can get a license to fly is deemed a safe driver in her mind. It was simply that if she was going to start the train of discomfort, Natasha was going to see it through. 

The music that played in the background only seemed to suit the casual demeanor the redhead held herself with. “Well, I really hope you didn’t think that that was going away any time soon,” In fact, most of the members were still seeking for the perfect opportunity to pull one on the Captain. She was certain Stark would have regretted missing that moment. 

In Steve’s way, a playful wink was sent, completed with the enigmatic tug at her lips. There was no need to push that topic; with the mere mention of it, she could already see the blush that rose against his cheeks. “Immensely,” In fact, this was probably the best alternative to spending her break time than trying to smoke Clint out of the vents.

Against the backseat, she stretched out her legs - might as well get comfortable.  “But, I would be more entertained to know where we’re headed.” 

[soviet-legacy]

A Spy’s House Call ll Romanoff & Xavier

[soviet-legacy]

weaponofthemind:

“Well,” Charles said, leaning back in his chair, linking his fingers together in concentration. “I’ve never encountered a human who could endure the physical and mental odds they were both forced to be put through. And a file read of an anamoly that HYDRA couldn’t identify.” He leaned his elbows on the desk.

It was quite a sight, hares won’t lie, to see the calculated spy go through apprehension, hesitation. She could have mutants in the team. Charles has small patient for mutantphobes, but he assumes the spy is not one, considering her team is completely filled with many different types of heroes.

“We can always figure out later, at a scheduled appointment with both of them,” He asserted. “And if they are willing to, to make sure whether this theory is possible or not, donate a small blood sample so Dr. Hank McCoy can see if their blood contains the X-gene.”

The truth was different to different people at different times. It was a matter of perspectives. They looked at the experimentations from one angle while the Professor from another. One truth, but different interpretations. Just a few words from him could have her linking together the different possibilities and arrive at a completely different destination. 

Natasha could not deny that this was not possible. In fact, in just a few seconds’ time, it grew to be very possible. If that was so, then they have found themselves in a completely new situation. 

Ever so slightly, her fingers tensed against the files before they relaxed just a second later upon awareness. They were going to finish this conversation and then she will assess the odds - not before. Thus, at the request from the Professor, a faint bitter smile could be found upon the redhead’s lips. It was a smile that assured him that what he requested bordered impossibility. “I’m afraid, Professor, that you aren’t going to get a blood sample from the twins.” It was a complicated situation on both sides. “Pietro Maximoff is anxious and quick-tempered; Wanda Maximoff is reclusive and avoidant. However, both of them suffer from post-traumatic stress. To even get within a few feet of them would be a challenge.” 

The reason she came to him was because, of all the people, Natasha believed that he would succeed. So, with those words, she presented him with a challenge.