A/n: My lovelies I have been ~struggling mentally~ Nah I'm kidding I promise I'm fine. But I have been suffering with a major block and my personal life has been questionable which is why you've had little to no fics recently. I can't lie, the lack of interaction on these fics is disheartening but I know my lack of writing is also partly to blame. If I'm being honest, the dopamine I get from your interactions is what keeps me motivated to think up new scenarios and write them down. On another note, I have more fish.
Your day had been going relatively well. You were driving back from a good day at work with the radio blasting and the windows rolled down. You were too engrossed with singing along to Adele to realise there was a motorbike weaving through the cars at a breakneck speed. You only realised when there was a sickening screech of metal on metal that the bike had spun underneath your car. A few moments after that the world turned to black.
When you awoke, you were in hospital with a minor concussion and a broken arm. The doctors asked a series of questions that you breezed through before declaring you well enough to go home. You asked them what had happened with the motorcyclist and the nurse and doctor shared a look before letting you know she hadn't woken up yet. You asked for her room in order to apologise but they refused, stating that they couldn't give you her room number but could leave a message with her. You asked for a pen and quickly wrote down a message on a used napkin.
It was 3 days after you had left the hospital when you received a text from an unknown number. All it said was 'floor 2, room 501'. You assumed it was the woman you had run over. The relief and guilt flooded your system simultaneously as you put your shoes and jumper on to go to the hospital. The whole way over you were battling with yourself - pleased that she had contacted you but embarrassed and upset about the circumstances. You told the front desk where you wanted to go and they directed you towards a flight of stairs. You hesitated before turning the doorknob of the room containing the woman you ran over. You gingerly stepped in, not wanting to wake her if she was asleep.
"I didn't know you'd be cute." Her voice was raspy - whether it was from staying in hospital or was just her natural voice you weren't sure.
Your cheeks heated up at her compliment. "Same here. I was worried you were old or something..." You trailed off, shifting your feet a little as an awkward silence filled the room.
"Come sit. I promise I don't bite." She had a look in her eye that told you she most definitely would bite but you sat in the chair next to her bed nonetheless.
She studied you intently before extending her non-broken hand to you "Natasha."
You shook it. "Y/n."
"At least now I know what name to sue." She winked at you and you let out a shocked laugh.
"Actually, we should probably exchange details so I can pay for the damage"
"No." Her answer was short and to the point. You barely knew the woman but you knew there was no point arguing and yet you did anyway.
"I literally ran you over. At least let me buy you a new bike."
"I'll let you buy me a drink." Her mouth curled up into a smirk.
"Sure. When are you out of here?"
"Not for a while. You have to sneak us out."
You looked at her, unimpressed. "I'm pretty sure that's against the rules."
"Against what rules?"
"The rules of life or something."
"Obey all the rules and you're going to miss out on the fun parts of life."
You glanced around the room, looking for a possible way out. Natasha looked pretty badly injured so you assumed walking all the way down the stairs and out the door would be out of the question. The windows were those suicide proof windows that didn't open all the way out which left only one other option.
"I decide where we're going and I take you right back here as soon as you finished your drink okay?"
Natasha thought it over "...fine."
You exited the room and asked for a wheelchair, claiming it was for your sick, old, aunt. You grabbed a scarf you saw on a chair and headed back to Natasha's room.
"Okay put this on your head." You handed her the scarf, positioning the wheelchair so she could slide into it.
Once she was sitting in the wheelchair, you grabbed the blanket that came with it and handed it to her. You looked at her before taking off your jumper and giving that to her too.
"I'm not wearing your jumper."
"Why not?" Your tone reflected the slight offence you took to her comment.
"A, it looks like a grandma made it and B, you might get cold." Natasha mumbled the last part, pursing her lips slightly while briefly avoiding eye contact.
"Well my grandma did make it. And you're wearing it because otherwise you'll be wheeling out of here very clearly in a hospital gown. Then you will be stopped and you wont get your drink."
Natasha grumbled as she put on the jumper and crossed her arms, which you took as an invitation to wheel her out.
~~~~~
You had taken her to a 24/7 diner and bought her a milkshake. By the look of disgust on her face, Natasha was expecting an alcoholic beverage but you were almost certain she wasn't supposed to be having alcohol while on whatever meds she was on.
"How's the milkshake?"
"Would have tasted better with vodka."
"It's an American diner Natasha. You'd have better luck getting pigs to fly than having vodka."
"Vodka makes everything taste better." Natasha took a long slurp from the straw, loudly smacking her lips to prove her point.
"You're either European or have a drinking problem."
Natasha lets out an ugly, genuine laugh and you think it's the prettiest sound you've heard. "How about both."
"Whereabouts in Europe?" The question seemed to sober up the mood.
"Russia originally." Natasha's eyes looked different, like she had gone back there momentarily.
"Oh wow." Truthfully you weren't sure what to say. There was clearly some deep baggage attached and as much as you wanted to, you didn't know this woman well enough to ask her without making her uncomfortable.
"Yeah."
Natasha finished her milkshake in silence. Once she was done, you wheeled her back to her hospital room.
~~~~~
It was silly. You shouldn't be waiting by your phone like a lovestruck teen waiting for her crush to text her back. You were a fully grown woman. You had a life. You had an apartment you owned and a-
Your phone let out a ding and you dove across your bed to see who it was. You groaned and rolled onto your back as you realised it wasn't Natasha. It had been 3 months, 2 weeks and 5 hours since you had got milkshakes. You were beginning to think you might not ever hear from her again.
It was okay, you reasoned with yourself, you were getting your cast off today which means you can go back to playing the sports you've dearly missed. Exercise will keep you occupied from the redhead you ran over. You grabbed your keys and locked up your apartment before walking to the hospital.
When you arrived, you were directed to a doctor's office where they took your cast off. The whole process took less time than you thought and you thanked your doctor before heading out, only to bump into Iron Man.
"Woah watch it kid, there's a crippled old lady coming through."
"Sorry!"
"I am not-" Natasha rounded the corner, her words dying in her throat when she saw you.
Could this get any more awkward. Not only had you bumped into Iron Man, but you were now face to face with the woman you had been pining over.
Little did you know Natasha was pining just as hard.
"You okay Nat?" Steve asked.
"It's Captain America"
"Sorry kid, no time for autographs today. I just need to get my friend back." Steve attempted to usher Natasha along but she was rooted to the spot. For the first time in his life, Steve saw the spy's confident mask slip.
You looked from Captain America to Natasha to Iron man then back to Natasha.
You frowned and hit her on her arm. "You had me break you out when you're an Avenger."
"I'd say I was surprised you didn't recognise me but from the amount of time you spent staring at your shoes... it explains a lot."
"In my defence you looked like shit and there's barely any photos of you on the internet."
"Cap are you seeing this?" Tony whispered to Steve. "Natasha let this kid not only hit her but also insult her."
"I don't know what to do" He whispered back.
"You been looking me up sweetness?" Natasha's cocky tone was something you didn't know you missed.
"I mean not you. Well, yes you but I didn't know it was you. Don't look at me like that - it is absolutely not like that."
"Oh but I think it is." Natasha's eyes gleamed with amusement.
"Then how come you never texted?" You grew bold considering this was possibly the last time you would see her.
The two men took this as their cue to leave. They knew Natasha well enough that she would want privacy for this.
"I could ask you the same thing."
You looked at her sheepishly. It's true. You hadn't exactly texted her either.
"You've got a point there."
Natasha let out a sigh. "I guess I was worried. I wanted you to like me just as much as I like you but I've done some bad things in my time Y/n. Stuff I need to work out."
"I definitely like you and I'm sure your past isn't exactly rosy but no one's is. Besides, I'm not asking you to marry me, just maybe go on a date?" You looked at her, heart in throat, as you waited for her to respond.
"On one condition. I drive. I don't want to become an accomplice to murder."
You laughed "It was one time. But yes. That's probably safer."
A/N: I don’t like this one as much as the first part but oh well
Word Count: 2.5k
You and Natasha climb into your Chevy C10 and you turn the key several times, but the engine just keeps sputtering. You can see Natasha holding in a laugh from the corner of your eye and you shake your head, turning the key one last time. The engine roars to life and you let out an excited ‘yes’ under your breath. As you pull away from the tower, Natasha examines the interior of the beat-up truck. She hums and turns to face you.
“Something you’d like to say, Miss Widow?”
“I’m sorry, but I gotta ask. Your father is Tony Stark一 a literal billionaire. Why do you have such a crappy truck?”
“Hey, it is not crappy! It’s a project truck一 a classic. And I don’t want my father’s money. I don’t need it.”
“You’re weird. If I were you, I’d use daddy’s money to buy myself a shiny new Corvette.”
You scoff and shake your head. “You make a fair point. Corvettes are very tempting,” you say with a slight smirk on your face.
It’s silent for a few minutes after that, and you push a cassette tape into the player to fill the void. Hank Williams’ voice fills the vehicle and Natasha lets out a loud snort. “You’ve got to be kidding me. First the ancient truck and now this? When is this music even from? Oh my god, wait. Did you go into the ice with Cap? Cause that would explain, like, a lot.”
“Ha ha. Very funny, Romanoff. One, this truck is not that old; it’s a ‘78. Two, this particular song is from the 50s. Don’t attack me just because I have better taste than you.”
“Older definitely does not equal better, Y/N.”
“Mhm. Whatever you say, Natasha.”
There are smiles on both of your faces as you pull into the parking lot of the small diner. Natasha hops out and you pull on the handle of your door, but it won’t budge. She watches you through the windshield, standing in front of the truck with a cocky grin. You huff out a breath and shove your shoulder into the door, which seems to do the trick, considering you fall out of the side of the truck and land not-so-gracefully on your ass. Natasha is now full-on belly laughing at you, and your face is decorated with a deep blush and a sheepish smile. “The door sticks sometimes...”
“Yeah, I can see that,” she says, still laughing. You stand up and dust yourself off.
When you enter the diner, the two of you earn some strange looks, and you realize you’re still wearing a dress that definitely doesn’t suit the environment.
“I really should’ve changed first,” you mumble as you slide into a booth across from Natasha.
“Yeah, you should’ve. I thought you were supposed to be really smart?”
“I’m sleep-deprived, leave me alone.” She only laughs at you in response, but you love the sound of it.
<//>
A concerning amount of food and coffee later一 along with several missed calls and ignored texts from your father一 you and Natasha are fighting over the bill.
“You drove, just let me pay.”
“I invited you here, so I’m gonna pay.”
“You’re a broke college student. I’m not letting you pay.”
“I’m not a college student anymore and I’m not broke!” She playfully glares at you and you meet her hard stare with raised eyebrows, not backing down. You see the waiter coming towards your table, but Natasha can’t see him. You quickly slide your debit card into the check and hand it to him as he passes.
Natasha scoffs and squints her eyes at you. A smug grin spreads across your face as you nod your head in silent victory. Her feigned anger quickly fades and she shakes her head at your antics, chuckling quietly. The sight causes a warmth to spread in your chest, and you avert your gaze to the window.
You stack the empty dishes as you wait for the waiter to return with your card. She raises an eyebrow at this and says, “I take it you’ve worked as a waitress before?”
“Yes, actually. That and I’m a decent human being,” you say with a pointed look.
“When did you work as a waitress?”
“All throughout college. On top of, like, two other jobs,” you reply as a waiter hands you your card and receipt. You nod with a small ‘thanks’ before sliding out of the booth.
“Why’d you work so much?”
“Needed the money,” you say shortly as you hold the door open for her.
“You never give real answers to my questions,” she playfully remarks.
“Well, maybe you just ask too many of ‘em.” Your lips quirk into a small smile.
You turn to look at her once you’re both situated in the truck. “My mom had cancer. I needed the money to pay her hospital bills. That’s how Tony and I reconnected. She knew her time was coming and she didn’t want me to be stuck alone with that kind of debt, so she called him. He had already known about me, but I guess he finally just grew up and decided to deal with it.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“No need to apologize. You didn’t invent cancer,” you say, shrugging as you start the truck. It’s quiet the entire ride back to the tower, but, despite the heavy conversation that previously took place, it’s a comfortable silence.
<//>
Natasha walks you back to your room once you get back to the tower. She claims she’s being courteous, but you’re pretty sure she just wanted to know where you’re staying. You open the door to your temporary room and wave her in.
“This is it? An old cramped apartment in the basement?” She asks with scrunched eyebrows, which you find adorable.
“Well, I told Tony that I didn’t want anything extravagant. And I’m only going to be here for a couple of weeks, so…”
“Yeah, this is definitely not extravagant. You are allowed to have nice things, you know,” she says, turning to face you.
“I know. I mean, he can obviously afford it but he’s already spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on medical bills. I just wanna get out of his hair,” you reply honestly.
“He doesn’t seem to mind having you around. And I definitely don’t,” she says with a flirty smile, setting your cheeks ablaze.
You shake your head as you look anywhere but at her. She steps closer and reaches behind you to grab your phone from the countertop, holding eye contact the whole time. You watch with wide eyes as she types away on your phone.
“There,” she says. “Now you have my number, so we can set up a second date.”
“I wasn’t aware this was a date. I would’ve gone for something a little fancier than diner food.”
“Well, at least you were dressed the part,” she says, gesturing to your dress.
“Mhm. I might’ve gone for something a little less...revealing. For the first date, at least.”
“Aw, but I like this dress. It makes for a very nice view.”
“Oh, I’m sure. The other patrons at the diner loved it, too. And you aren’t too hard on the eyes either, Agent.”
She chuckles and says, “I should probably get going. We could both use some sleep.”
“Yeah, definitely. I’ll see you later, Natasha.”
She presses a soft kiss to your cheek and whispers, “See you around, Y/N.”
You don’t snap out of your trance until the door clicks shut behind her. You blink several times, trying to reassure yourself that the past sixteen hours had actually happened. You shower and change, then send the orders through to JARVIS to have Natasha’s new suit made. As soon as that’s taken care of, you practically collapse into your bed.
<//>
You’re awakened by a loud knock at the door. You have no idea what time it is, but you flick on the light and stumble to the door anyway. You pull the door open to find your father standing on the other side. “I was sleeping,” you mumble as you glare at him.
“It’s four in the afternoon,” he deadpans.
“Well, somebody decided to lock me in a lab all night so I’m a little behind on sleep.”
“You could’ve slept on the...workbench or something. That’s not what I’m here for. Can I come in? Thanks,” he says, walking through the door before you have the chance to respond. You shake your head and close the door behind him, moving to get a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Why are you here then, Dad?”
“I went to my lab and discovered JARVIS working on a suit. I didn’t give that order and nobody else has that kind of access, so I figured it must’ve been you. Who’s it for?”
“Natasha. She had gone to the lab last night because her suit needed some repairs after her mission. I just designed a new one because whoever made the first one was an imbecile who knew nothing about combat.”
“Hey, I helped design that suit!”
“Oops…sorry. But, I mean, c’mon, dude.”
He looks away from you and shrugs, pretending to think it over. “I can see your point.”
“Are you mad about the suit?” you ask tentatively, afraid of overstepping.
“No. I’m quite pleased, actually. Looks like you’re taking after your old man.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Dad. I just did her a favor ‘cause we were both locked in there with nothing better to do.”
“Okay, just hear me out. I know you’re really looking forward to your new job, but you have so much talent. You could stay here and一”
“No. I don’t want a handout and I don’t want to work for you. I’ve already accepted the job, Dad. And I’m really looking forward to it. I appreciate the offer, I do, but no thanks.”
“Just think about it?” You stare him down, but he doesn’t budge, so you hesitantly agree.
“Fine. It will linger in the back of my mind, but I will not be actively thinking about it.”
“Good enough for me,” he says with a smug grin, raising his hands in the air.
“Call me when the suit’s finished, yeah? I wanna see my work.”
“No, you don’t. You want to see Romanoff, who will happen to be wearing your work.”
“Shut up.”
“You know I’m right.”
“Get out.”
“I’d better be invited to the wedding!” You push him out the door and close the door on him, cutting him off. You laugh at his antics. As complicated as your relationship with your father has been, this past year would’ve been hell without him.
<//>
It’s about seven p.m. now. You decided to stay awake, hoping that maybe you’d be able to get some sleep tonight. You’re in the middle of an episode of Criminal Minds when your phone buzzes from beside you. You pick it up and see a text from your father.
‘Suit’s done. I just texted Romanoff. Better get up here so you don’t miss the show ;)’
“Oh, good lord. That man,” you mumble to yourself as you shut your laptop and leave the room.
On the elevator ride up to the sciency floor, you suddenly become very self-conscious of your appearance. You’re wearing black leggings and an oversized band tee with your hair thrown in a messy bun, and glasses instead of contacts. ‘This is ridiculous. She’s just trying out her suit,’ you think to yourself. You shake your head to clear your doubts as you step out of the elevator.
Tony is the only one in the lab when you get there. “Is she not here yet?”
“She’s in the bathroom changing.” He turns his phone off and picks his head up to look at you, immediately laughing. “Did I wake you again?”
“Very funny. I was watching Netflix, asshole.”
“Hey, don’t speak to your father that way.” You scoff and raise an eyebrow at him, but whatever sarcastic remark he was about to make was cut off when the door to the bathroom opened and Natasha stepped into the lab. You’re fairly certain your jaw dropped a little at the sight of the redhead.
“It’s a nice suit. You look great. Doesn’t she look great, Y/N?” Tony’s teasing tone tells you that your gawking is very obvious, and you don’t need a mirror to know that your face is bright red.
“Uh- yeah. No, yeah. You look fantastic. Do you- how’s it feel?” You silently curse yourself for stuttering, knowing that your father would never stop teasing you for it.
“It’s amazing. Much better than the old one. Thank you, Y/N. You really didn’t have to do this for me.” Her cocky smirk fades into a small, sincere smile and it doesn’t fail to make you melt.
“You’re welcome. You deserve it. You’re sure it doesn’t need any adjustments?”
“No, it fits great. Whoever designed it did a pretty good job,” she says, her smirk returning.
“I’ll be sure to let them know,” you retort with a similar expression.
“If you two are done flirting, do you think we could wrap this up? I have a date with Pepper at nine and Y/N here was very busy being a couch potato before we interrupted her.” You slap his arm for his remark and disapprovingly shake your head at him.
“Ow!” He grabs his arm with a slack jaw and you scoff at his dramatics.
“Yeah, just let me change back. I’d hate to interrupt her couch potato time,” Natasha adds in.
“I am not a couch potato!” You huff as Tony leaves the lab laughing and Natasha goes back into the bathroom. You lean against the workbench and pop your knuckles, waiting for her to finish.
She emerges and notices you instantly. “You didn’t have to wait for me, you know. I’m capable of walking myself out.”
“Really? I thought the Black Widow would need a bodyguard to get to the elevator,” you quip, feigning confusion.
“Funny. Seriously though, thank you for the suit,” she says as you walk her into the elevator.
“Like I told you before, it was my pleasure.”
“I know, it’s just that nobody’s ever really done anything like that for me before, and we’ve literally known each other less than 24 hours.” She catches your gaze as she speaks, and the raw sincerity in her eyes almost takes your breath away.
“Well, to be fair, they have been a very eventful 24 hours.”
“That is very true. Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Goodnight, Nat.” She steps off the elevator at her floor and you continue downward. As the unusually large metal box descends to the basement, a giddy smile takes over your features. It might be the lack of sleep or the borderline-dangerous amount of caffeine you’ve consumed in the past 24 hours, but you think that you just might be falling for the ex-assassin.
A great love story, truly. New from Little Brown, Black Widow: A Sad-Funny Journey Through Grief for People Who Normally Avoid Books with Words Like “Journey” in the Title, by Leslie Gray Streeter. Funny, moving, beautiful.
Unadaptable - Natasha is a very adaptable person who changes very quickly, especially in moods. She’ll need someone who is equally adaptable to match each other well. She’s also a spy so she’ll be moving around a lot and if you want to follow her, you’ll have to learnt o adapt to different countries environments.
Unable to Read Between the Lines - Natasha has been trained to hide her emotions very well and you’ll have be someone who reads between the lies and the masks. She’ll love you nonetheless but she needs support to and if you cant figure her out eventually and help her, its not a very good partnership.
Impatience - Natasha is busy a lot and sometimes cant always sit still. She’ll feel like she had to be doing something. Nat also has nightmares, though she tries to deny it. She’s been through a lot of shit from the get-go and will need all the patience from her lover as she can get.
Liar - Natalia Alianovna Romanovna IS THE SPY. She has been brought up around liars and crimminals, the last thing she’d want around is another cheater and liar. Shed also like to be able to trust her partner, rely on them to communicate and just not lie. She can tell if you do but she’d rather not have to been calling them out for it all the time or going behind you back to find out what it is. Just an honest person who she can trust.
It has been 100 days since Endgame was released and I am really still out here regularly tearing up thinking about Anthony "Tony" Edward Stark. I truly am Boo Boo The Fool ™.
