Hi Everyone!
I know. It's been many, MANY years. Fanfiction is a world I've loved for a very long time, but it's a very hard world to contribute to when life is constantly sucking you dry. I've lost a lot, gained a lot, but now I found myself with some time and this nagging idea that wouldn't leave my head, I figured a semi-comeback was in order.
I was one of the few weirdos that was disappointed with Endgame. The plot was amazing, the fight scenes absolutely FAULTLESS. But for me my love for a story comes only from the development of its characters. And for me I felt the avengers team was not done justice. Specifically Thor, Steve and Natasha.
Steve's ending was completely untrue to who he was as a person, both in the comics and MCU. There's a plethora of reasons why, but to be brief the 'good man' that gave his life in service would not simply leave his best friend, practical brother and team to chase a woman he knew for less than two years and kissed once. Just...no
Thor deserved way more than becoming a joke. He lost everything he could possibly lose; mom, dad, brother, best friend, team, girlfriend, his people, his planet, his eyeball. He took part in practical suicide for a chance to stop Thanos, just to become a fat guy to make jokes with. Unbelievable.
And finally Natasha, the most wronged of all. She is one of the most intricate and downright badass characters in the marvel comics. She suffered more in her life than all the team combined. She was the only one with no real love story, not even a glimpse at the chance of a future. She just came in, got made into the franchise's sex appeal, cried or got scared at least once a film. Got injured and needing to be 'carried and rescued' in practically every single film. No character development, no real moment, no purpose. Other than to kill herself for Hawkeye. Out of everything in the MCU this was the most unforgiveable. They made her out like she was just some unnecessary sidepiece. She didn't even get to live before she died. Just...bullshit.
So this is an idea for what I think should've happened. For me, had it been Thor or Hulk to die, it would've made sense. Tony I also agree with. But I will say this til I die; NATASHA DESERVED BETTER.
So here's a hurried plot idea that I have note edited at all and I wrote in the very midst of my feelings. So it may be garbage, but I needed to get this out for my own feelings and I have no regrets. It's very...VERY adult...and maybe very much based on my own experiences and feelings with grief and loss in the past. But I think for the most part it's true to who I see Steve and Natasha to be in the MCU.
So...yeah...I've ranted. Now read on and enjoy :)
"Who do you want me to be?"
The sentence that had started their journey together, the beginning of their bond.
"How about a friend?"
Friend, it was a concept foreign to Natasha. Definition: A person with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically one exclusive of sexual or family relations. She had never had a friend before. She'd had colleagues, acquittances, whatever word could be used to describe the other widows and fake family she had been placed with as a child. But friend? No.
A friend was someone you trusted, someone you knew would have your back. Had he not just said moments ago that it was hard to trust someone if you didn't know who they were? And if he knew who she was, friend would be the last word on his mind.
Steve Rogers, who followed his heart even if it ensured his death, even after it cost him everything, could never really trust a widow. No, they weren't friends. But she couldn't bring herself to say the words. Instead:
"There's a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers."
Then he proceeded to save her life only moments later. To him, it was nothing, simply 'the right thing to do'. To her, it was everything. Only one person before him had saved her life, Clint. She was still paying back that debt, and now she owed a new one to Steve. From then on, it was her duty to be his friend, to be someone he could trust even when he could trust no other. Even if she couldn't trust herself, she had to build trust for him.
And with trust came respect, with respect friendship, and with friendship a bond of love that only two people who have suffered together can form. Not romantic, but just as strong. They grounded each other, they could catch each other. They survived off each other. When one lost, the other came to help succeed.
Until they lost together.
Steve spiralled, wildly. He had nothing left to fight for. He'd lost. His fault. Tony was right. He stayed alone for weeks in the chamber, the serum in his system making sure that even as he stopped eating all together he remained in perfect form. Everyone else had taken their own path; all disappearing with a vague promise to keep contact. Natasha remained in the tower with him, though she kept her distance at his request.
"It wasn't your fault Steve, we all failed."
"We weren't ready." He replied, his voice dead. "We were so busy fighting each other and serving our own agendas that we forgot about the whole reason we were put together. We fell apart, and because of that we weren't ready. We weren't ready, and we lost. That's on me."
He spent his time after that staring at the wall unseeing, replaying the fight in his head, trying to find a way out.
Until one day, Natasha returned to his room.
It wasn't her action that jumped him from mind. She came often to see him, sometimes multiple times a day. Bringing food, talking quietly to him, trying to bring him back. This was normal, and it did nothing to bring him out from his thoughts. Even the odd attire she was wearing didn't catch him at first, although he did quickly register how odd it was; the green army uniform in place of her normal black bodysuit.
It was her smell.
It was not the normal warm, earthy scent that he identified with Nat. It was floral, the type that was subtle, the type he had only smelt twice. Once in a hospital, and once at a party in 1945.
She smelled like her
Steve's eyes snapped up to her from his seat on the floor, alarmed and confused. She smelled like her, she was dressed like her, even the wig covering her normal red hair was in the exact same up do he remembered. If not for her face, she would've been an exact copy of Peggy.
"W-wha-" His voice was dry and unsteady from weeks of misuse. She handed him a cup of water, and for the first time since Thanos' demise he drank it.
"You need to wake up, Steve." She pressed a finger to the left of her temple and her face immediately faded. His breath hitched as her deep green eyes turned to chocolate.
"There's only one person that can do that." Even her voice was exactly as he remembered it. And before he could say another word she was kissing him, so softly and carefully it barely registered.
He realised what she was offering him. A way out, an escape. And it was wrong, so wrong, because she was Nat and Peggy was dead and he shouldn't use either of them but oh.
Her touch, her smell, her voice, her feel, it was all exactly the same, he felt alive again for the first time in weeks. And he knew that no matter how wrong it was, how immoral, how selfish, how improper, he would not give up this moment.
For one moment, he needed to feel like the world hadn't ended. He pushed his shame aside and pressed his lips more firmly to hers.
When Nat felt him kiss back, it took all her spy training not to smile. Finally, finally something had gotten through to him. She had thought long and hard about this. But she had exhausted all her other options, and she needed him to be ok. Clint, Thor and Bruce had all disappeared, and while she loved Tony, they did not share the same bond. He wasn't alone the way she was, Steve was. She needed Steve to be ok. By whatever means necessary.
His kiss was shaky at first, she could tell he was battling himself internally. But then his hesitance disappeared and he took her fully into his arms.
Nat had never been treated this way. All sex she'd had was on missions, so for her, sex was much like being thrown against a wall in a fight. Even on the off chance it was fun, it was still urgent and careless.
Steve was different, he touched her as a child would a bubble. He held her against his body as he kissed her, but not in a way that was possessive or firm, more like he was protecting her from something, as if he wanted to push her body into his and keep her there. He needed contact with every part of her. The heat of his body radiated into her own.
She realised that this must be what it felt like when someone loved you. And so she also decided to pretend. Pretend that he wasn't seeing another woman's body, pretend that the love she was feeling all around her was meant for her. That someone wanted her.
He pulled her into his arms and pulled her off the ground with him, carrying her to the bed and laying her down without breaking their kiss. It was dark, but he felt it better that way; the less he could see, the more real he could feel this was, as his mutated eyes had an annoying habit of seeing the truth in everything.
He never let go of her once, maybe because he feared that if he did she would disappear as she had before. She stayed tight in his embrace, even as her clothing carefully disappeared, even as his own did. Even as he touched her, kissed her, warmed her body beneath his fingertips. Even as he entered her, moved in her. Even as the sensations began to overwhelm him and his desperation turned to panic. Even as she held his head in her arms and stroked his hair, slowly bringing him back to her. Even as she soothed him when the sensations became too much, held his trembling figure to her and spoke soothing words to help ease the panic. Even as he finally went over the edge, his entire body shaking erratically and odd noises leaving his lips, she never once left his arms. After a few minutes his groans quietened, he found it in himself to speak almost.
"I'm-I'm sorry, you didn't…I've never" His brain was scrambled, he hadn't even realised he'd fallen on top of her until he felt her soft hand on his back.
"It's ok, I figured." Came the soft reply.
"But I should-do you want me to-"
"I want you to relax" she moved her other hand out as well to wrap both around his waist, gently holding him to her as his face remained buried in her neck. He took a deep breath, letting the scent of her hair fill his lungs. It smelt of cherries.
He stayed curled into her, taking deep breaths of air until the trembling eventually subsided, and the fog in his brain cleared. He worked hard to keep down the guilt and shame as he carefully slid himself out of her.
"I really feel like I should do something."
"You should. Go and eat."
"I meant-"
"I know, but that's not necessary. Go and eat."
He still felt uneasy, hesitant to leave.
"Steve, please." He shivered at the soft pleading in her tone. He nodded, reaching to grab his pants. By the time he turned to put them on, she had already disappeared.
Steve was a wreck after that night. Guilt and shame flipped his stomach every time Natasha locked eyes with him. It took a week of staring before Natasha came to him.
"Steve, the world is gone, everyone we loved is gone. There's no judgement or system or any of that crap anymore. You decide what is right and wrong. If something feels good, if it fills the void, even for a minute, why would you deny yourself that?"
"I don't want to use you, either of you. She was married"
"She still loved you Steve, to her death she loved you. Wanting her, needing her when you've lost everything, that's human. She would understand. You know she would."
"And you?"
A pause.
"Sex means little to me… I just want my friend back." She left after that
Five minutes later Steve had followed her to her room, where she was already waiting, disguised and nude across her bed. Brown eyes locked with his, she slowly spread her legs for him, and he quickly shut the door, walking quickly into the invitation as he stripped. He hated himself, but it wasn't enough for him to stop.
From that day, a silent promise had formed between them.
During the day, they went about their duties. Nat created and maintained a global communications system that allowed avengers and others to reach out for assistance. Steve answered those calls, as well as creating survivor groups to allow others a system while recovering from their loss.
During the night, Nat donned her disguise, and Peggy made her way to Steve's room. The stamina the serum allowed him meant he could last for several hours at a time. In fact, whenever they finished, it was always to allow them time to sleep, never out of exhaustion. He had yet to become tired enough that he wanted to stop. She seemed just as energetic, oddly. And these feelings, these emotions, enhanced by his mutation, were akin to nothing he had ever experienced before. He imagined this is what drugs felt like, and he was hopelessly addicted. He wanted to feel that way forever.
Once she was gone, he spent a few hours in shame, both at his situation and the fact that he seemed unable to return the favour for her.
"Why don't you ever…" he still couldn't get the word out, he felt ridiculous. "Is it something I'm doing or-am I bad-"
Her sly, teasing grin made him stop. Her lips curling to one side, the brightness in her eyes, he could almost see the dimple forming. Nat's grin, on Peggy's face. His stomach clenched oddly.
"Well, you could use some training." His eyes dropped to the floor, embarrassed.
A warm hand covered his own.
"Everyone needs practise, Rogers. Sex is a skill. But that's not the reason, so don't worry. It's nothing to do with you. Even without skill, the effects of that serum alone would make up for anything."
He wanted to ask what the reason was, but as she mentioned the serum, he realised something. His eyes widened in horror. The serum enhanced everything. Including his sperm.
"Yes, that does also mean you have a 100% chance of getting anyone you sleep with pregnant."
His eyes met hers, terrified.
"Now you realise. That's not something you have to worry about with me. With anyone else though, I'd recommend some sort of protection. And not condoms or IUDs or whatever, none of that would be good enough for you. That serum was designed for genetic pass down." Her grin grew sly again "They super soldiered your sperm."
"Then why-"
Her grin fell immediately "It's not a problem you're going to have with me" she simply repeated again.
She quicky stood from her place, grabbing her clothes. With a quick 'goodnight', she left the room, not even bothering to dress.
He didn't sleep that night.
"The scar you showed me once, the one that Bu-the winter soldier gave you. It's not there."
"You can mask more than just the face."
"The mask changes your body?"
"Yes. It has a genetic component to it. KGB tech, you could fingerprint me in this and come up with the wrong ID."
Steve stayed quiet for a moment, absorbing.
"Why are you doing this?"
"You need her."
"Why?"
She raised a brow but answered none the less. "Because you loved her, and you lost her. You're in an unfamiliar world and everything's lost. You need someone familiar."
Steve thought on this. "Peggy made me who I am. She and Dr. Erskine were the only ones to believe in me from the beginning. Even when I was just a scrawny sick kid from Brooklyn. Even when the world was against her, she never gave up, and she made me the same. She made me push myself, be better. Be…Captain America. When I went in the ice, I had just kissed her."
She nodded slowly beside him. "You lost your window." The knowing tone of her voice made him turn.
She had never revealed anything to anyone before. People knew about her what they needed to know. And her story with Bruce had remained between them. But the longing in his eyes, for someone to feel him, to understand. She figured she could break her own rules just once.
How about a friend?
"Before Ultron took me, I was going to leave."
Steve met her eyes, surprised.
"The Hulk got caught, people were scared. Bruce needed to disappear."
"You wanted to go with him."
"When Clint spared me. He gave me something I'd never had in my life; a choice. Albeit a limited one, death or defection. But I had never had any control over my life, so I took it. And I switched one fight for another."
She kept her gaze to the floor. "When I met Bruce, he was like no one I'd ever met. I was always surrounded by soldiers, spies, fighters. Bruce could wipe out everyone I'd ever met without breaking a sweat, and that's why he chose not to. He didn't want power, and he didn't want to fight. I didn't think that was possible, but when I thought about it, I realised I didn't want to either."
"We talked, we…kissed…we agreed. Then I got taken, and once he found me he asked me to go with him. But I…I couldn't leave. I chose the fight and I forced the Hulk out and dragged him with me. I broke his trust, and he hopped on a spaceship and left. When I saw him again, I knew the window was gone."
"He never blamed you."
"That's what makes it worse. All he wanted was for people to stop using him, to stop hurting people. And I did the same and he wrote it off. He wasn't even angry with me."
"You were trying to protect him."
"I was trying to put him in the exact position he'd been running from his whole life. I chose the fight over him."
"Because it needed to be fought. You couldn't leave people that needed you."
"He needed me. I left him and he needed me. Because that's what I am, what they made me. A weapon, something that valued nothing over a mission. And weapons…don't get retirement plans."
This was the most Nat had ever revealed of herself to him, maybe to anyone. He was surprised, and he took time to choose his words carefully. He did not want to break the trust she had bestowed on him with this gesture.
"Bruce didn't meet you in disguise, Nat. He knew who you were from the beginning, we all do. Even if you hide your past from us, yourself even, we all know who you are. And it's not a weapon, it's a hero. You loved him and he loved you, you could've run. You could've retired and had a family and a good life together. But you knew in doing so you'd be damning a lot of people, so you chose to stay. He knows that, that's why he doesn't blame you."
A long time passed between them in silence.
"We both did, we both chose the fight. Now that it's lost…"
"We don't know what the point is."
They smiled at each other slightly.
"You could find him, you know."
"If he wanted me to find him, I wouldn't have to." She gave a sad smile, she knew the second she saw Bruce return that their time was over. "Besides, like I said, we lost our window. And I've accepted that now."
"I wish I could too."
"You didn't have the choice. I closed my window, yours…kinda disappeared. It makes sense that you can't get over it."
He had never realised how similar her experiences were to him. Perhaps because he didn't really know all that much about her.
He kissed her on the cheek, much like she had so long ago.
"Get some sleep, Romanoff."
Another sly grin, "Aye aye, Cap."
"Thankyou."
He was gone before she could answer.
He tried to take matters into his own hands the next night. But no matter how he tried he couldn't quench the yearning in his body. His hands couldn't replace her small, nimble fingers, her mouth, her breasts, ugh. His body was on fire. He hoped a cold shower would fix it.
It did, but only because she joined him.
"I want to stop."
"But you can't"
"I need it."
"That's ok." She ended his reply with her lips.
News of Barton's latest kill streak had hit Nat hard. She knew that he was more far gone than he had ever been, and without his family nothing would bring him back. She owed him everything, yet she could do nothing. Her calls were unanswered, her messages unreplied to. The one time she had tracked him down he set off a bomb to disappear.
He was not willing to be found, not even by her.
Steve had finished his duties for the day, as well as spent a few shameful hours alone in his room…taking care of business. His body had disconnected entirely from his mind since that first night. Always on fire, always yearning, only contained by the fact that their encounters ran a schedule, so he was able to hold off on his desires and focus until the evening. He wondered if it was something in the serum that made him so dependant, or simply the result of a broken mind, or even simply a loss of control.
But he wanted to talk to her tonight, to be for her what she had been for him for many weeks now.
When he met her in her room, she was curled up in her seat, turning immediately to him as the door opened. She was confused, it was still many hours until they were due to meet. Steve felt a pang of guilt, he noticed these days that she always assumed that was all he wanted from her.
"I'm here to see a friend" he gave a small smile,
"Clearly your friend is fine."
Her voice cracked, a first for her. He sat beside her, and she took in the two bottles in her arms.
"I've been here before. With Bucky, when I found out. I figured you wouldn't want to talk. So I brought a distraction. Since you're from Russia and all."
She cracked a smile, taking in the first bottle, Tovaritch Vodka. The other however, was one she was unfamiliar with, German. Hasen Hell. Steve noticed her gaze.
"Before…before the procedure…I couldn't have any fluids. Dr. Erskine offered me this bottle, and I said we'd drink it after. Never got the chance."
He gave a sad smile as he handed her a bottle. She hugged it to her body, and he tried to ignore the way the bottle fit snug between her breasts.
"Thanks. This is actually one of my favourites"
"Yeah?"
"Tovaritch means comrades in Russian. I used to drink it a lot with Tony and Rhodes as a joke. They're even funnier drunk."
"And you? Any chance you'll break out in song tonight?"
She snorted and shook her head. "No. I can't get drunk."
Steve locked eyes with her, shocked. "I know, takes all the fun out of it."
"How?"
She looked at him, confused albeit mildly amused "Same reason as you? Did you not know that the serum speeds up your metabolism?"
Steve almost dropped the bottle "Serum?"
With an amused, dark smile, she nodded. "Super soldier serum. Russia's version, of course. Doesn't make you super fast or strong or whatever, but it allows you to perform as best a human can. Slows aging, speeds metabolism, you don't get tired, boosts endurance. Puts you at slightly above peak human condition."
Steve was shocked. So not only him, but Bruce, Bucky and now Natasha had all had some form of dosage of that cursed serum. He wondered how many versions exactly there were out there.
"Why'd you take it?"
"No choice. I was their number one widow, they wanted me in peak condition." She could tell by the look on his face that he understood nothing.
When SHIELD had taken her, they were already fully aware of the widow program and what it was. Clint had been briefed, and she felt no desire to tell anyone. Bruce knew, at least in part, and it seemed to have little effect on how he saw her.
But Bruce was also troubled, he could understand her. Could Steve? The perfect American Soldier? Would he think less of her? She decided she didn't care. The world had ended, there was nothing left anyway, might as well throw caution to the wind. No point hiding an identity in an apocalypse.
Steve watched her battle herself, waiting for her to speak.
"There's a program with the KGB known as the Red room, or the Black widow program. It uses advanced technology to assess genetic potential in infants. Then it takes those infants and turns them into elite spies."
"Infants?"
"I was two when they took me. Or thereabouts. Usually it's more around the 4-6 range." She paused, composing herself, willing herself to disassociate. "It's a big program, and they cycle you through it as much as necessary until they think you're ready to be a widow. Or until it kills you." Her gaze remained fixated on the floor in front of her.
"They manipulate you, they torture you, in whatever way they can. They teach you ballet and gymnastics to make your body strong and flexible, and to see how hard they can push. They train you to withstand all pain, to memorise, to fight, to hide in plain sight, to disappear, to seduce. Whatever skill you need to get a job done. Later on they started chemically altering the brain, mind control. So you could carry out tasks as efficiently as possible, even if you didn't want to. And so they could make you kill yourself if you failed them."
Steve's stomach churned, and for the first time since the serum he wondered if he would actually throw up. "And of course, they have many measures in place to keep you from resisting, from hurting them back." She gave a twisted smile. "They play with your mind until there's nothing left, with your body until it breaks, until you've been completely unmade in every way you can think of. And if you survived, you got to graduate." Her body trembled with the word.
"They forced you down, tied you to a surgical table and put you to sleep. When you woke up…complete hysterectomy." Steve closed his eyes, on the verge of convulsion.
"Uterus, ovaries, your whole reproduction system ripped out. They wanted no chance of any of us ever having children; ever having anything that could be more important than a mission. No family, no future, no place in the world. Empty inside and out." A joyless chuckle escaped her lips "The ultimate weapon."
She took a moment to compose herself "And then of course, the KGB developed their own version of your serum. She gestured to her bottle "so you can't get drunk. I've always wanted to know what that feels like though. Seems nice." She paused for a moment.
Steve's brain was thoroughly overloaded. He had spent a lot of time thinking on what she could possibly be hiding, but he had never imagined anything like this. He had no words. Both had set their bottles aside, sitting together in a strange silence, until a message alert from downstairs caught her attention and she left to take the call.
Steve had stayed in his room the entire day and awake through the night. Nat worried as she fixed the wig to her hair what kind of state she would find him in. Would he throw her out? Had he gone back to his previous catatonic state?
When she came to him, he was sitting at the edge of his bed. She leaned in to kiss him, and he used the opportunity to gently press a finger the side of her head, shutting down the tech. She pulled back in confusion, and he watched Peggy fade away, then stood to carefully remove her wig.
"I don't want to do this anymore."
"Again? Steve-"
"Just hear me out. This, these nights…you're right. This whole thing is possibly the first time I've felt something good since I came out of the ice. But I can't do this," he motioned to her wig "the disguises, the lying, using you. The way you disappear every night and we just act like nothing's happening. The whole split personality thing. It's eating me alive."
She pressed her lips together, but otherwise seemed unsurprised. She sat next to him.
"You think you can handle going cold-turkey like this?"
"I lived 100 years without it,"
"You were frozen for 70."
"So?"
"A child for another 15 years"
"Ok."
"A pariah for 10. You've only had 5 good years in you." He gave her an annoyed look, and she returned it with a sly smile.
"Plus, stopping sex once you've started is a lot harder. You know what It feels like, how good it is."
"This is a horrifying conversation."
"You've had sex with me."
"I don't think it counts when it's not actually you." He could tell she found his discomfort very amusing.
"True. My body is different, I'm different."
"Why is this so easy for you?"
She shrugged. "I grew up in Russia. Sex…it's just a tool."
"You don't seem like you enjoy it very much."
A small smile. "In the Red Room, sex was very much weaponised. They taught us it from a tactical perspective; how to desensitise yourself as well as expose your partner as much as necessary. Manipulate them, make them vulnerable. I wasn't put much into it, given they preferred me for more fight based missions, but the few encounters I had left me uninterested, and I learned to disassociate."
"Even…when it's personal?"
"I've never sought out sex for myself."
"What about with me?"
"For the most part, I do tend to detach."
"Ouch."
She snorted, shaking her head. "It's not personal Rogers. You're having sex with your lost lover in my body. Excuse me if I don't want to be much involved." He pressed his mouth together, not really having a reply for that.
"So you never…crave it?"
"No. I've spent my whole life being trained to bury my feelings and burn my desires, which are literally the only two components of sex. I don't think I could stay out of my head long enough to enjoy it, let alone deal with an orgasm. The feelings, the vulnerability, the loss of control, the exposure, the idea is scary to me."
They stayed quiet for a while, thinking.
"I don't know why it affects me so much."
"I think you're like me in a way. You were a man with big feelings to begin with, serum dialled you to 11. But unlike me you're a soldier, and feelings are used rather than hidden. Now you have all these feelings and no fight, no outlet for them. The sex was your release, and Peggy helped because your feelings for her were defined and she was familiar, safe to you."
It surprised him how much sense her analysis made, although he knew it shouldn't. Perhaps Natasha was not at the level of Stark or Banner, but she was incredibly intelligent in her own right. And her ability to analyse a situation was unparalleled.
"So what do you want to do now? Should I try and find you a girl?"
"I am not getting a hooker."
"It doesn't have to be a hooker. Any girl would fall over at the chance to have sex with you."
He winced "And that's exactly why I don't want to do that. I'd prefer not to have a review of my garbage sex skills on national television." She snorted at that. "Not to mention the whole pregnancy risk, and the stamina, it'd be a nightmare" Her eyes immediately met his, his words triggering an obvious answer.
"Why don't you have sex with me? Me me I mean."
"What?"
"Why not? My stamina is the same as yours, no risks. You could have sex with me whenever you wanted."
"You just said you won't have sex."
"I have no problems having sex, I said I don't enjoy it."
"Right. Because that's much better."
"What?"
"There's a really specific word for having sex with someone unwilling."
"Uninterested and unwilling are two different things."
"Sleeping with your uninterested friend for your own pleasure is fairly similar."
She shrugged. "Your choice, the offer stands if you change your mind."
"Thanks?"
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head but unable to keep the smile off her face.
Steve was losing his mind.
No matter how hard he tried, how much he distracted himself, how much he touched himself, nothing satisfied him. He was ashamed at how dependant he had become upon the escape Natasha had offered him. But he face a lot of misery in his day to day, misery that after a while became anger, and anger somehow became arousal.
Everyday he sat with other victims of the blip. Siblings, now only children. Wives without husbands. Children without parents. Mothers without their babies.
He refused to break as they built graves for the dead. There were no bodies, of course, no real closure. Instead they dug in great slabs of concrete, the names of the lost engraved across. There were enough tears without adding his own.
He did the best he could to help throughout the day. And at night, he tried to distract himself. He spent time trying to satisfy his urges until he could accept that nothing would work. And then he gave up, choosing instead to satisfy his rage by destroying the training room. And then once his rage had dissipated, and only sadness remained, and he cried until sunlight peaked through the window.
He knew Natasha was watching him, and worried for him. But he simply no longer had control over himself. His misery and anger and desire all fuelled each other, leaving an unstable shell of a man that once defined greatness.
As usual, he felt a warm body curl up beside him as the sobs racked his body. He didn't know how she knew, the walls were all sound proof, but she was always by his side the minute his anger left him. And she never left, no matter how hard he pushed her away.
"I don't want you to be alone."
His sobs grew louder as she pulled him into her arms, cradling his head in her lap and brushing her fingers gently through his hair, letting him cry himself out. She knew that this was better for him, to release his emotions rather than bottle them up and ignore them the way she was, but it ripped at her heart to see him this way. Steve was a soldier, a beacon of strength for the team, for the world. Watching him cry every night, she wondered if the soldier had finally been broken.
When Steve awoke, he was no longer in Natasha's lap, rather resting on a pillow, a blanket thrown over his body.
He felt tired and groggy, confused. This was the first time he'd fallen asleep here, and he could tell by the stiffness of his body that he had been here for some time.
Once he had showered and dressed, he went off in search of Natasha, finding her by the comms system as usual. What was unusual was the way she was dressed, as if she'd left the compound, which he knew she hadn't done for a very long time.
"Figured I'd take your…class today. Seeing as you were dead to the world and all."
"How long was I out?"
"Around 18 hours."
"What?"
"You were exhausted, Rogers. You've been working yourself to death."
A sandwich slid across the table to him. He immediately took it, he was starving. Nat watched him inhale the sandwich, an odd smile on her face, and slid him her own as well, getting up to make another. He thanked her through mouthfuls.
"How was the meeting?"
"Awful. I can see why you're so…pent up all the time."
"What did you say to them?"
"Not much. I tried to remember a few things from your hero speeches over the years. Couldn't really come up with anything myself. Feelings…comfort…they're not really my strong suit. And I doubt any of my own tactics would've gone down well with them"
"You have tactics?"
"In a way. How we were trained. 'Only the breakable will break', 'pain only makes us stronger'" she took a bite of her own sandwich. "'Feelings are a weak man's excuse'. 'The weak get stomped out.' I can't imagine an of that to be a good response to someone that just told you she lost her newborn."
"Is it weird that it still freaks me out every time you tell me something about yourself?"
She gave a half smile "Preferred not knowing?"
"No…I just…I wish you didn't have to go through that."
She gave a sad laugh "Me too. It's not so bad though, I guess. I may not ever be a people person, but at least I've got uses."
Something about her sentence made him very uncomfortable.
"You really don't see yourself at all, Romanoff."
"You really don't know me at all, Rogers."
"And whose fault is that?"
"…Fair point."
They finished their food in silence. Steve watched Natasha noticing strange nuances in her behaviour. After a few moments, her expression cooled.
"You know, when something is bothering you, you can always talk to me."
"I think you've got your own problems, Rogers. You don't need to add mine."
"You add mine."
"Because I can take it. You're a bad day away from combustion. And every day is a bad day."
"Friends help each other Romanoff."
"Not if they don't need it."
"But you do. How long do you think your going to be able to keep holding yourself back like this?"
"I'm not like you, Rogers. I've been doing this my entire life. This is normal for me, it's how I cope."
"Normal doesn't mean healthy."
"I've gotten this far. It works, it keeps me focused, I can do my job."
"There's more to life than the job."
"Not for me."
He let out a sigh, frustrated. "I can help you."
"I don't need you to. I'm fine."
"Are you? You lost a lot of people, Nat. Clint, his family, Wanda, the team. Probably other people that you're never going to tell me about. You lost your whole family Nat, the only family you've ever had. And you've just thrown yourself into this job since the day we got back like nothing's happened." She slammed her hand down on the table.
"What is it you want me to do Steve? Cry? You want me to break down and smash the building? You want me to go meet people and talk about how alone I am? Or would you rather I find someone to fuck so I can pretend I didn't just let ½ the universe die?"
He had never seen Natasha react to him this way. She knew exactly what she was doing, exactly how to hurt him, and she was throwing every punch she had.
"I'm not you, Steve. I won't act like I am."
She stormed off, leaving him stunned in his seat.
It was a few days before she had the courage to speak to him again. Since their fight she had been doing her best to avoid him, unable to face the consequences of her actions.
Steve had replaced his nightly breakdown with more destruction. He punched and trained and kicked and screamed until he quite literally passed out from the exertion. He didn't have the energy to cry anymore, but the rage remained.
"I'm sorry." The quiet voice immediately snapped him out of his haze.
He turned to her immediately. She was dressed for bed, as if she had tried to sleep and then decided against it.
"I'm so sorry, Steve. I really didn't mean it. I just…I wanted to hurt you…so you'd stop talking. I…I couldn't take where the conversation was going and I wanted to hurt you so you'd stop."
"I know." He replied, his words were cautious. "You succeeded."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not a whore, Natasha." She flinched at the word "Or a psychopath."
"Of course your not-"
"But you implied it."
"I know and I didn't mean-"
"Didn't mean to tell me that I was trying to hide from my own mistakes with sex?"
"It wasn't your-"
He pushed her up against the wall, she didn't try to fight him. "Why even stay around me then? If I'm such a disaster why even stay with me."
"You're not! You're not a disaster, I am! Ok? I wish I was dead and I took it out on you and I'm sorry-"
He dropped her immediately. She looked at him, shocked, until she realised.
"You tricked me. You guilted me so I'd talk."
"You tried to hurt me to get out of a conversation. I'm just returning the favour" He wasn't mad at all, she realised, and she couldn't really be mad at him either. He'd simply reversed her own play.
"This is why I hate feelings."
"No more masks, Natasha. What happened to you?"
She let out a breath, she owed him this. He sat down and pulled her to the floor. She trained her gaze to the floor as she spoke.
"When we were in Wakanda…when we were fighting him, he used the stones to trap me."
"I know-." She pressed her hand over his lips, her eyes shut tight. Her jaw locked, her body curling in on itself. He nodded, pulling her hand away and keeping it tightly in his own.
"I saw Wanda and Vision. He…he begged her…they were saying goodbye…she…she killed him."
It's not fair, it shouldn't be you but it is
Her eyes shut tight, her free hand clawing at her arm hard enough to draw blood, hoping the pain would focus her. Steve immediately grabbed the hand and she fought against his grip to no avail, he simply pulled her into his hold, rocking her slowly with him as she tried to get the words out.
"Vision asked her to kill him…to spare the stone…and she did it. She destroyed it."
Steve was beyond confused, but he continued to wait, rocking her gently as she locked back up. She wouldn't cry, she wouldn't.
"Wanda killed Vision…and Thanos killed you. He hit you so hard to the head you were dead in the same instant. He dented your skull into your brain…I saw it. And then…he used the time stone…he brought you both back…and he took the stone and he killed Vision again…and he killed everyone else."
Steve was stunned, but he knew there was more to this.
"I got out, I didn't realise you were alive, I went to get Wanda. I tried to get her up, but she was just holding him, holding his corpse. And she…she knew she was going to die…I don't know how but she knew. And she just looked at me, and she said 'It's ok, I want to be with them.' And she just…became dust right in front of me. She didn't care, she'd lost Vision, lost her brother. For her, there was nothing left here."
Steve looked away. Wanda had been like a younger sister to him, and the pain she had suffered at such a young age, his heart ached for her. Her life was over before it had begun.
"And when I went to your meeting, one of the girls talked about how the snap hadn't affected her. Because she already had nothing to lose. She was an orphan, no family no friends, she had nothing even before the snap. And whether she died or not, it made no difference. She didn't think she deserved to be alive."
"And neither do you."
"I have no place in the world. My whole life is this, and now this is gone. There are people who matter that are gone. Clint's wife mattered, his kid's mattered, T'Challa, Peter. They were someone's child, someone's sister, someone's family. Wanda, Bucky, the others, maybe they had no one left too but they had futures. They could've grown. Me? I'm…nothing. Someone else would do better, be better."
He realised with a start that that had been her point. That was the reason she had no problem imitating Peggy for him. Someone else would do better.
He pulled her face up to meet his. "No, ok…no. Every single person that went in that snap deserves to be here, and so does everyone that didn't. Your life is worth no less than anyone else's." She shut her eyes again, already shaking her head but he refused to let her go that easy.
"Look at me. You are worth so much more than you realise. You're not some weapon. You're not a machine, or a soldier, or a spy. You're not an orphan or some pawn to be thrown away when the game is over." Her jaw locked back up.
"You're the girl one who exposed herself and blew her cover to save people she knew would always hate her. The one who worked for people that didn't trust her because it was the right thing to do. The one that walked into a fight against robots and magic and aliens… and a Hulk… with nothing but a handgun because it was the right thing to do. You're the one that kept the team together even when we were all trying to tear it apart. You sacrificed everything because you want to be more than what they made you." Her body trembled in his hold, completely locked up.
"You're my family, ok? You've gotten me through so much, before and after this. I don't know what I'd do without you. I need you Nat. Your place is with me. You're all I have and I need you."
That was all it took to break the dam. Months of suffering, years of trauma, a lifetime of hiding from everyone, including herself. Three words brought down every wall she had ever built.
She screamed, she cried, she kicked, she sobbed, she ripped at her hair and her skin until Steve managed to pin her beneath him, at which point she just continued to scream and tremble with sobs, unable to handle the burst of emotion that had sprung forth. She saw all of them flash before her eyes. Fury, T'challa, Shuri, Bucky, Sam, Peter, Clint's family, Alexei, Melina, Yelena, Wanda, Vision. Steve's corpse flashed before her, his dead eyes locked on hers with what remained of his skull.
Her eyes flew open, terrified, instinctually flipping them over so she now sat atop Steve, her hand still caught in his grip. She looked to the side of his head, a sob escaping her as she realised there was no wound. Her eyes met his, deep blue and anxious and very much alive.
And then she was kissing him. The shock caused Steve to drop her hands instantly, moving to grab her waist. Her own hand grabbed his face, pressing him to her.
"Why-" she pressed her mouth more firmly against his.
"Please."
He pulled away "Nat you're not thinking straight."
And she wasn't. Natasha was a wreck. Never in her life had she been this completely vulnerable. His words had torn open wounds she'd long thought had healed, her feelings were overwhelming her. Her pain, her anger, her anguish, her sadness. She just wanted a way out, a way to escape herself.
Steve could sense her panic, he locked eyes with her. Green eyes, dark and anxious. For the first time, he saw everything in her eyes; her pain, her strength, her sadness.
He pulled her back to him. "I can't do this. I can't. Too much."
"It's ok. I'm here with you. It's ok" he brushed his fingers through her hair, the way she always seemed to be doing for him. "I know it hurts. I know you miss them. It's not fair, I know."
They stayed that way through the night. Nat eventually exhausted herself, still to anxious to sleep but she remained curled into Steve's embrace. When sleep finally began to hit them both, she gave him a soft kiss to his cheek and walked back to her room.
Steve asked Nebula to cover comms for the week, Rhodey taking over his meetings. Out of all the avengers, Nat and Steve were the only two to jump straight back into business, putting themselves aside for the sake of others they knew needed them. The others had family, friends, lives outside the next mission. It made sense that they should leave, just as it made sense for Nat and Steve to stay, having nothing else. But it was tearing them apart now, destroying them. They needed a break, at the very least.
Steve made sure to wake up earlier than her for once, setting out to buy her breakfast- he didn't want to further her misery with his own cooking.
She was stepping out of the shower by the time he got back.
"You reassigned the comms?" he could tell she was angry with him.
"I figured you…we…could use some time off."
"I don't need time off, Steve. I cracked a little yesterday, that's all. I'm fine now. I can do it."
"I know you can do it. But you don't have to, and you're not fine." She opened her mouth to argue with him. "Look, Nat. Everyone else is gone. Tony's married, Clint's…on his own mission, Thor's retired, Bruce disappeared. They're all done. We stayed and we jumped right back in because this is all we know. But it's been almost a year now and you're not ok and neither am I and this is going to kill theboth of us if we don't stop." He gently grabbed rested his hands on her upper arms.
"Please. Just for the week."
Dark green eyes searched his, a small frown on her face.
"Just a week." She repeated finally. He gave her a small smile, which she reluctantly returned as he handed her a croissant.
"What is it you actually think we're going to do for a week?"
"I don't know, actually. I've never had any free…freedom…before."
"Neither have I."
She took a swig of her beer, Steve couldn't help watching the condensation drip from the bottle down her exposed upper chest, trailing down her skin, disappearing between her breasts. His own beer suddenly shattered in his grip.
His eyes flew to hers, he knew she would pick up on his thought train immediately. "I'm sorry, I really don't mean it-" and Nat's signature cheeky grin had graced her face.
"Still struggling huh?"
Relieved she was not offended by his crass behaviour, he relaxed back into his seat. He was long past the point of shame when discussing this with her.
"It's almost all I can think about. I can't control it, I can't subdue it. I feel…dirty."
She laughed at that, handing him another beer. "You're always so dramatic." His heart skipped a beat at the familiar phrase. "Tell me something. When you go to those meetings, you talk with those women, with any women, are you thinking about sex?"
"No."
"Exactly. When are you thinking about sex?"
He thought on it for a moment. "When I'm alone, when I'm finished training, at night." He coughed awkwardly. "When I'm with you…sometimes."
Another cheeky grin. "So basically, when you're free. When your mind has nothing better to think about. And me, well, you've kind of already had sex with me, your mind probably just identifies desire with me because of it. It's normal, it's called having hormones. If you hadn't spent your entire life in war you would've experienced it sooner. It'll just take some getting used to."
"You're not like this."
"Because I'm not normal."
He rolled his eyes at that. "I feel like it's too intense though. This can't be what everyone experiences."
"Maybe an effect of the serum. Honestly though? My best guess is it's a symptom of depression. You have a lot of the symptoms, and you have more than enough reason to be depressed." She took another swig. "There's nothing wrong with you, Steve. It's just circumstance." He thought on her words, and they enjoyed their drinks in silence for a while.
"Would you have…had sex with me, that night? If I had let you?"
She looked at him, her gaze thoughtful "Honestly? I'm not sure. I think I would've tried, and then chickened out. Dissociated maybe. I just wanted to distract myself, something to help me refocus. It wouldn't have worked."
"Because you wouldn't let it."
She gave a small nod, agreeing. "Letting my guard down, being present, feeling things, trusting, it's all very hard for me. Enjoying those things, just seems too difficult." She met his gaze. "It still doesn't mean that I wouldn't help you if you let me."
"Why would I let you help me if you won't let me do the same?"
"You want the help. I don't"
"Maybe if you tried you would."
"Maybe I don't want to try."
"Look, I know that this is…insanely weird."
"Agreed."
"We're not in love, or even in a relationship at all. But we're still…family somehow. And you're still all I've got. And I don't trust anyone else, and you don't either. So if this…if it helps… both of us…wouldn't you at least want to try?"
"And if it makes it worse? What if it ruins our relationship somehow?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I was on the run with you for two years, Nat. We've…been through hell and back together and we've been in situations together that should've ruined us along time ago." She laughed at that, it was true.
"In my time, sex was something you either did as a stud or saved for marriage. But now…it's…just a tool, I guess." They both smirked. "A tool that might help fix us."
He pretended to return his interest to his beer, giving her time to think through his words.
"I'm not her, Rogers." He met her gaze
"I know."
"Being with me is different. My body is different, I'm different."
"I know."
"It won't be the same. It won't be at all like before."
"That's the point."
"Why?"
Steve thought for a moment. "I loved Peggy, but she's gone. She married, she lived a good life, she let go. I think it's time for both of us to do the same. And we only have each other."
She left her seat, walking directly over to him and seating herself atop him. She held a hand to his face, searching his gaze. She searched for doubt, for sadness, for a bad sign of any kind. She found none, only conviction and a sweet softness to his gaze.
She pulled his head towards her, locking their lips together.
He immediately stood and hoisted her up, letting her wrap her legs around his waist. He kept his arms firmly on the underside of her legs, even as he trembled from the strength of her kiss.
"You got good at that." She gasped as his mouth moved down to her neck.
"I've been practising." He'd also spent an embarrassing number of hours watching…certain films online, hoping they would help him with his problem. They didn't, but he was sure he could make use of them now.
He flicked on the lights, another move that surprised her, their meetings had always been in the dark. He continued to kiss her, trying to burn out some of the energy and anxiousness that was flooding his system. His body was screaming for her, but his mind was in pieces. He wanted to be at least somewhat stable before he continued.
He unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off, her legs still wrapped around him as they kissed, stopping only for a moment to yank off each other's shirts. The heat of her body made him shiver, and he had to close his eyes for a minute to contain himself. He needed to do this properly. Once the trembling of his body had subsided, which as usual she politely ignored, he removed the rest of her clothing and quickly flipped them so she was sprawled across the bed, giving himself a moment to take her in.
Nat was right, her body was very different.
First of all, she was far more slender, her body slightly smaller and yet defined perfectly from her years of physical training. Her breasts also slightly smaller but fuller. Her waist was smaller, her hips just as wide. It was the scarring that set her apart the most. Where Peggy's body had been like porcelain, Natasha was littered with wounds.
The scar just above her hip was known to him, but the gash across her right thigh was completely foreign, gnarled and going down the entire top half of her thigh. Another wound was the one just below her shoulder, although he realised instantly that it was another shot from Bucky, the day he had revealed himself. A few more scars littered her arms, one just atop her breast. God knows how many she had on her back at this rate.
Before she had time to notice his staring and panic, he gently pulled her to the top of the bed, giving himself room to sit between her legs and hover above her. He gave her one more deep kiss before allowing his tongue to drag down her figure, mapping its way down to each scar and placing long, opened mouth kisses over each one. Her breathing grew heavy, and her hot scent began to fill the air around him. He held his breath to keep from losing it at the smell of her. He was already trembling, god, why was it so hard to control this? His body seemed to have no problem with the transition in partners, it worried him slightly.
He made a trail along her inner thighs, releasing shivers from her body.
"This is really weird." She gasped out, but the fingers knotting themselves into his hair indicated that it was a good type of weird. He smiled against her skin. He took his time tasting her, toying with her, making sure to pull her back to him with long, deep kisses everytime he noticed her eyes beginning to dull.
"I want you to feel this." Steve whispered against her skin, taking a deep breath of her. He wanted this for her, to return the favour he had so desperately needed. He would not let her escape him.
"I want you to feel everything. I don't care if it takes an hour, a day a week the whole year I don't care. I'm going to stay here with you, like this, until you can't feel anything else but this." Her breath hitched.
She was dazed and so confused, her mind anxiously calculating and processing and coming up empty. His words were too much for her, this feeling too big to contain. She was panicked, horny, worried, afraid.
"Do you trust me?"
She took a breath
"Yes."
He had done his best to research beforehand, certain…skills she had mentioned previously, and he did his best to bring his new training to good use.
Steve was oddly nervous, but focused on the vulnerable body laid out before him. He kissed every inch, whispered soft assurances, comforts into her ear. Her moans were deeper and breathier than he was used to. He liked them, he wanted more. He brushed against her skin, tasted her, toyed with her until they were both taken over by uncontrollable trembling. God, this was like nothing he'd ever experienced.
He could tell that she was still scared. When something became particularly intense, her muscles clenched, her gasping sped up she would panic and cry out to him to stop. She was overwhelmed, much like he had been the first time, but her fear, her trauma made it far more difficult to bypass.
There was something he really, really wanted to try, although she was very much against it. Every time his head began trailing too low, she immediately twisted her fingers into his hair and pulled him back up. It made sense that she would not want him toying with her in that most sensitive place, but he was all but dying to taste it.
He tried a final tactic, sitting her up against the headboard of the bed and meeting her lips again. He used his tongue to distract her, make her press harder against him, and took the chance to quickly slid a finger into her. Her eyes flew open, letting go and arching in to him, and before she could stop him pushed her legs forward and replace his hand with his mouth, pressing an open mouthed kiss on her hot pink flesh.
"Ugh!" she cried out immediately, her legs subconsciously squeezing together, trapping his head in place. His hands came to her sides, holding her steady so he could taste her as he pleased. He was entirely overwhelmed, every single one of his senses was drowning in her, and still he wanted more. This was like nothing he'd ever felt in his life.
Her hands were curled into his hair again, trying to pull him away, unable to handle to sensations his tongue was providing, at the very sight of his blonde hair between her legs. But her refusal of him was weak, and he chose to ignore it, instead focusing on the seductive sounds that were escaping her mouth. And her smell, and her taste.
He wondered at this rate which one of them would combust first. If she kept pulling his hair like that, the odds were quite stacked against him.
After hours of trying, coaxing, seducing, she was again pleading with him to stop, clearly becoming frustrated.
"This is getting us nowhere, please stop."
"I'm not going to stop, not until you do this."
"I can't. I can't Steve." She could feel the tension building in the pit of her stomach, her muscles tightening, she knew she was close. But her fractured mind would not allow her to let go, to release control of her body.
He let out a breath, watching her curl into herself. He felt awful for her, it hurt to watch her struggle with herself this way.
"You can, there's no physical reason you can't do this, you're already so close. It's all in your head. You are the only one that has control over that."
"It's too much." He understood. The physical sensations, the feelings, the thoughts, it was an incredible overload especially for her, who'd come from fights and wars where feelings were something to be locked in a box and forgotten. To break that box, it was incredibly overwhelming.
He took a hold of her carefully and flipped them over, so her legs were still flush against his waist but she now sat atop him, straddling him. Her eyes locked with his in surprise.
Oh, she smelled so much better from this angle, and her heat was almost burning his lower abdomen. He wanted to bury his face in it. He willed himself to stop shaking, swallowed and took a hold of her hand. "Nat you're not leaving until you try. Really try. I know it's overwhelming, I know you're not used to taking in your feelings…or being vulnerable…or losing control…or seeing me naked." He gave a slightly embarrassed grin and a shaky laugh escaped her. Truly this was the weirdest possible scenario she had every found herself in. And she'd fought aliens. But sitting atop Steve Rogers, the both of them buck naked, the world ended and him coaxing her to orgasm of all things, this was the most embarrassing and ridiculous and unimaginable situation she had ever found herself in.
"I also didn't expect to see you naked, or Peggy. Or anyone." Another shaky laugh. "But that night, when you came to me, it was everything I didn't know I needed. Not Peggy…just, the release. All I've done since I came out of that ice, since I've been on this god damn planet is fight. Being able to stop, to feel, to live even for a minute, to escape. There's no words for that, and you need that. I might not be the partner you want, and it might be really…scary for you to let go like that. I can't imagine you've ever been able to. But I know you can and you deserve this, so can you please just try."
There was a long silence, but slowly, she nodded.
He gave her an encouraging smile, and lay his hands by his side as a gesture, showing her that he was giving her complete control of their situation. She rested her hands on his midsection, almost blushing at the feel of his muscles rippling beneath his skin. He was built like Adonis, there wasn't an inch of his body that wasn't perfect. She felt too shy to really look at him, especially the part of him that was currently resting against her stomach. The embarrassment was starting to get to her.
She met his eyes, which were still fixed on her. She figured it would be best just to get over it. Not breaking eye contact, she moved her hand down his body. He trembled beneath her as she took hold of him, positioning herself. She steadied herself with a hand on his chest, and focused her gaze on the hand and she quickly brought herself down on him.
A strangled groan escaped him, his eyes squeezing shut and his hand flying to grip her waist. His entire body was shaking again. Her eyes also shut tight, taking in the feeling of him, the way her body adjusted to fit him.
Once she had taken a moment to adjust, she realised she didn't like the way she was looking down at him. She took his hand and pulled him into a seated position, his back laying against the headboard while she straddled him. This way, their bodies were pressed firmly together. He gave her hand a small squeeze of reassurance.
Carefully, she began to move. Immediately her hands wrapped around his neck. This felt completely different to anything they had done before. Their position ensured her body clenched hard as he moved in and out of her, she could feel even the pulse of his blood inside her. When she dropped down against his legs, a sharp spark of pleasure shot up her spine.
Her hold around his neck remained, and he gently pressed a hand to her back to steady her, the other stroking her thigh comfortingly. She tried again, and again, steadying herself into a rhythm as best she could. Her movements were getting faster, but her angling was constantly changing, searching for the right position until her body bucked forward and he hit her just beneath her belly.
She cried out, trembling as his hands ran soothingly over her, although he was also in quite a shaky state himself. She felt tighter than she'd ever felt around him, it was taking every ounce of restraint to keep himself still. She aimed again for the same spot, as quickly as she could, letting out small gasps between each hit. His hand moved to rub her inner thighs.
The pressure began building in her abdomen once again. Her body clenched harder against him, and a hiss escaped him. His own breathing was jagged, he focused all his energy into not moving, not pounding into her to chase his own release.
He could tell she was close, but still scared. Her grip on his neck was almost suffocating, her entire body clenched up in rejection.
"It's ok Nat, it's ok." His hand moved downward. Like lightning she grabbed his hand but he, expecting her reaction, quickly used the other. She let out a strangled cry as his finger ran gentle, fast circles over her sensitive bundle of nerves. Panicked gasps left her lips but he held her in place with his other hand and pressed urgent kisses to her neck. He whispered rushed words of encouragement into her ear, his own will starting to crumble.
He began bucking into her to keep the rhythm, Nat no longer able to maintain her movements. A frightened hand found his in a death grip, almost choking him with her other hand still around his neck.
"Just feel it, just feel me." He panted out, his thrusts becoming stronger. Her face was buried in his neck. The pressure inside her was beginning to ache, her muscles painfully tight, she willed herself to do as he asked. To focus on him, his soft words, his heavy breaths against her skin. The strong hand holding her tight against him, the other holding her hand in reassurance. His fingers, eliciting sparks of pleasure deep into her stomach. His hard, strong member pounding into her, hitting her deep, pulsating with need.
"Steve-Steve-" her breathy moans were tired and anxious, but also deeply lustful. It took everything he had not to come at the sound of it.
He sought out her mouth and kissed her so rough and demanding that she finally came apart, holding him to her in a death grip as her entire being shook with the strength of her pleasure. Steve groaned loudly again as he felt her ride through her orgasm, her walls squeezing him and pulsating with heat. He immediately picked up his pace and pounded into her two, three more times before he joined her in release.
They stayed that way, holding each other tight and panting into each other's mouths until both their trembling had completely subsided.
Steve had yet to experience a release that intense. The pleasure of it, of all of it, was unbelievable to him. He pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead, still slightly gasping for breath.
"Are you ok?"
She nodded, slowly releasing her death grip on his neck. "Sorry."
"You're not allowed to be sorry after that." She gave a small, embarrassed smile, glad he had enjoyed himself despite her dramatics.
They gazed at each other for a moment, catching their breath. Natasha carefully lifted herself off enough to allow him to slip out of her. The hit of cold air made him close his eyes and shudder. Nat watched him, and suddenly pressed her lips to his again in a last, deep kiss.
"I'm going to take a shower," she murmured as she pulled away.
He nodded dumbly, still stunned by all that just happened between them. She stood up, not bothering at all with her clothing. Just as she closed the door;
"I wouldn't mind some company."
He scrambled off the bed and bolted after her.
Once their week was over, they returned to their routines, with the bonus of their nightly encounters.
Steve had always known Natasha to be a woman of many surprises. Not only was she secretive by nature, but there didn't seem to be a single thing she wasn't skilled at. Despite her previously negative views towards sex, it was in no way a field she did not excel in.
She led all of their following sexual encounters. Her skills of seduction were unparalleled, a single act from her could have Steve on his knees before her. The way she moved, every bit a spy, the sultry tone she used to whisper hot, filthy words in his ear, the very feel of her soft skin and firm, goddess figure. There were days when Steve fell apart just at the sight of her. And god, was she flexible…
Natasha very much enjoyed herself with this. Steve's body was nothing short of a marvel to her, and she took great pleasure in toying with it. She loved the sense of control she had, the way he listened to her every word, the way she knew exactly how to make him lose his mind over her. She had many ways to make him lose his mind, actually, and she still enjoyed finding new ones. Just a look from her would have ripping at his clothes. They had christened almost every area of the building. Their bedrooms, the training room, the gym, the shower, the laundry, even the rooftop had not escaped them. Sometimes determined and quick, sometimes playful and slow. Together they tried everything they could possibly think to try, and then some. Indeed neither of them had expected to enjoy it this much, and their enjoyment seemed only to find new heights.
Even as their week together ended, their routines did not. They spent their nights working through their feelings together before returning to their respective bedrooms.
"Why don't you stay here tonight?" he offered, after a particularly exhausting…session.
"I can't sleep around other people." He raised a brow, so she elaborated. "I get anxious…I don't feel it's safe. And if I'm tired, it's too risky." Steve was confused, so she clarified. "I'm more a 'stab first, ask questions later' type."
He didn't ask her again after that.
Steve felt a strange sense of peace for the first time he could remember. Instead of starting his days with the same anxious dread he'd had his whole life, he was keen to start his day.
For the first time in his life, there was no fight. No dark force calling his name, no battle needing his aid. The only real use of his energy was his time with Natasha, time that allowed him to release all his pent up feelings and bask in the warmth and glow of something good. Nothing had ever made him feel as happy and relaxed and so truly at peace in his entire had a renewed sense of strength to handle his meetings and help others, as well as a renewed purpose to himself. So that's how he spent his time, either with Natasha or at his meetings. Or working out of course.
Workouts were strange for Steve. They felt good, of course. The burn in his lungs, the stinging in his muscles, the heat coursing through his body. He craved it.
But he never really had enough during a workout. Instead of releasing energy, it only seemed to create more. The more he ran, the more he kicked, punched, climbed, the more energy he felt building up in his body. Oddly, it was only when he couldn't take the pulses of energy that built up in his system did he stop for the day. It usually took an hour or so after for him to dissipate all that energy. Time he usually spent in the shower with…a certain train of thought.
Today his workout was much the same, but the build of energy was much quicker, he assumed because a certain spy was working out with him, her taut body on complete display in tight shorts and dark sports bra.
He watched her the entire time. Each bend of her perfect legs, each heave of her gorgeous, full breasts. He watched sweat pool down her skin and wanted nothing more than to lick it off her.
Natasha turned her focus towards him after an hour or so. He was currently murdering his 4th punching bag, his muscles bulging to the point of almost ripping his shirt. He stopped immediately once he noticed her eyes on him. She could see the fire in his eyes, dark and hopeful. His desire was clear as day, she smiled at him suggestively.
"I think I'm done for now." She announced, pressing herself suggestively against a wall. "Wanna help me cool down?"
He immediately bolted towards her, closing the space between them and slamming her up against the wall, his mouth covering her own.
They kissed furiously, running their hands wildly across each other's bodies, too overwhelmed with their urges to think clearly. Natasha managed to pull off his t-shirt and wiggle off her own pants. She pulled roughly on his hair as he freed himself of his own pants.
He groaned as her lips met his neck, biting and sucking and sending hot shots of pleasure through his body. He fumbled to position himself, but he was too unfocused, to unravelled by the effect she had on him. She stretched a slender leg straight over his body, pushing him against her and pulling him inside.
He didn't know if it was the effects of his workout, or the foreplay of watching her stretch and work her body around him. Or maybe it was the insanely sexy position she had stretched herself into with him. But this was by far the hottest and most out of control he'd ever felt in his life.
He tried to keep a steady rhythm but his movements consisted much of just trying to slam into her as hard as he could and shuddering with the strength of his arousal.
"I can't-I-ughh -Nat I can't" his entire body was trembling, and his knees buckled. She fell on top of him, forcing him down and pushing him back inside her with one quick thrust.
His resulting groan echoed through the room. She worked him in long, quick thrusts, but it wasn't enough for him. Steve flipped them over and pinned her down, surprising her, but nevertheless she adjusted quickly, letting him bend her legs over his shoulders. He immediately began pounding into her, faster and harder and rougher than he had ever been.
Her moans spurred him on, and he held her down harder as her body arched into him. He wasn't going to last, his body was already tightening, trembling with his impending release. He used one hand across her body to keep her down, the other to rub quickly against her clit, eliciting the sexiest cry he had ever heard from her lips.
"Steve!" he slammed his mouth back over hers, and they swallowed each other's cries as they fell apart, Steve collapsing on top of her.
"That was…" he gasped out "the best thing that's ever happened to me. I…honestly can't believe you're real right now."
She pulled his hair and brought him downward, trapping his mouth in another long, sensual kiss, he released another deep groan.
"Believe me Captain," she murmured, "you've seen nothing yet." He almost came again at just the thought of that promise.
"I see why they call you the black widow." He said, shaking his head as he stood and helped her up. "I think you might just kill me." Her lips curled into a smile, and without breaking eye contact she pulled off her bra and threw it behind her, forcing him back against the wall and pushing her bare breasts against his heaving chest. The sight of it made him tremble, and worse when she grabbed his face and pushed it to the side so she could purr directly into his ear.
"You.Wish."
Safe to say, it was a few more hours before they managed to even make it to a bedroom.
After their particularly…hard session yesterday Nat decided to wake up a little later than usual, only to be woken up by the sound of the smoke alarm blaring through the building. She jumped out of her bed and hurried down the hall to find Steve flapping his shirt over the detector, a very burnt pan cooling off in the sink behind him.
Nat stood by a moment, admiring his shirtless figure and the way his muscle rippled as he moved, before finally feeling bad for him and deftly hopping on the table to disconnect the alarm. She easily reset the system before putting it back in place.
He watched her work above him, an embarrassed look painting his features.
"I was trying to make you breakfast, I thought eggs would be a safe move."
"Clearly you were wrong," she grinned, sitting herself down on the table so she was eye level with him. "What's the occasion?"
"I don't need an occasion to cook." He feigned hurt.
"You need an occasion to try cooking unsupervised, though. You know it never ends well." Steve had many skills, cooking was very much not one of them.
"What were you doing before I started cooking for you?" She had generally been responsible for most of his meals since they had begun training the new avengers, as well as their friends while they were on the run.
"Bucky's family usually cooked for me before recruitment. I was only really on my own after I came here, and I cooked best I could. If it wasn't burnt I usually ate it. Stocked up on cereal." She snorted. "To be honest I kind of felt a little bad about last night, I was hoping I could make it up to you a little. Or at least ease my guilt."
"Why would you feel guilty?"
He stood himself between her legs, gently lifting up her tank top to reveal the bruises littering her torso, matching his fingertips.
"I don't even feel them, Steve."
"I do." She rolled her eyes at him, wrapping her legs around his waist to stop him pulling away.
"I enjoyed last night, very much." Her arms snaked around his neck, and he smiled as her soft lips brushed against his suggestively.
"Very much, huh?" his own hands curled around her waist as she nodded, kissing him deeper.
"Very, very much." He shuddered as her fingers ghosted along his side.
"So much so… I was hoping for an encore." She felt him twitch inside his sweatpants and smiled to herself.
"If you insist," he responded against her lips, already tugging down her shorts and yanking off his own.
Neither of them lasted long, still tired from the previous night. Steve redressed himself and then grabbed her shorts, sliding them easily up her legs before lifting her off the table with one last kiss.
"You shower, I'll make us something."
"Or, you come with me, and I'll…help you shower. Then we can both make breakfast." She raised an eyebrow in disbelief
"Still?" A laugh escaped her as he pressed kisses to her neck.
"I'm addicted to you," he whispered against her skin. She was still laughing as he threw her over his shoulder and hauled her with him to the showers.
He hoped that the joy would never be lost between. That they would never lose the spark of their time together.
The years past, and time proved his hopes fruitful.
They only had each other in this new dark world. But now that was all they needed. They spent as much time together as they could talking, cooking, eating, playing. Simple things that neither of them had ever had the time for before. They built new lives within each other, lives they had previously not even dared to hope for.
The night before the mission, to travel back and secure the stones, Nat had managed to sneak away from the group to meet Steve in his room.
They spent the entire night together, kissing and touching each other in a way they never had before. Every touch was soft but urgent, their kisses tender and slow. Even when they finally came apart together, they buried themselves into one another and stayed connected in every way they could be. It was a rare case in which their sex was not to satisfy an urge, but to feel each other. In case they did not get the chance again.
"If I don't make it tomorrow-"
"Don't."
"Steve-"
"Please, Nat. Don't. Don't say goodbye." His voice cracked. He couldn't bear the thought of losing any more than he already had. "We're going to find the stones, and we're going to bring everyone back. Neither of us is going anywhere."
"Ok." She replied quietly, but there was something she needed him to know.
"You…you've changed me, Steve. From the day I met you until now, you've made me question…my entire life. You were this flawless, perfect superhero with this faultless moral compass. And you trusted me. You saved my life and you trusted me time and time again even though anyone would tell you I'm the last person you should trust. You made me feel like there was hope for me still, and I've spent every day since trying to earn that, to deserve it. Knowing you…it made me better."
Steve closed his eyes, pulling her impossibly closer to him. He felt hot tears fall against his shoulder. "I'm not flawless Nat, I've made many mistakes. A lot you've gotten me out of. You earned my trust a million times over. And if I grew up the way you did, I don't think I would've had the strength to be who you are today. You're every bit as much a hero as me or anyone else on this team. I wouldn't have made it through these last five years without you."
Nat had a limited concept of love. She loved Clint, she loved her sister and her fake but true parents. But this feeling in her heart, the feelings she had for Steve that filled her with hope and warmth and made her feel safe, that crippled and threatened to suffocate her at the idea of losing him. This was a kind of love she had never experienced before.
She realised this was the love normal people had, the kind that gave you purpose. The kind that you grew into a family and protected and cherished for the rest of your life. The kind she never thought someone like her deserved, let alone for this perfect, beautiful man beside her.
She would keep this secret in her heart, regardless of how much it hurt, because only God knew what tomorrow would bring for them, and she didn't want to risk damaging the few moments she surely had left with him.
For the first time in her life, Natasha fell asleep in the arms of another.
They both woke up early, the next morning. They showered together, towelled each other off. Nat helped Steve into his suit, clipped on his belt, Steve helped her into her own outfit, placing one last kiss on her skin before zipping her up. Their eyes both shone with unshed tears. They knew the chances of both of them making it out together was slim.
"You take care of yourself, ok? There's no way Captain America survived sleeping 70 years into the future just to die in the past."
"Yes ma'am." She cracked a smile at that, although it was quickly overcome by the strength of the tears she was holding back. She didn't want to let go of him, but she had to.
"You know, I wrote this list of stuff from this century, way back when. I never got to try out the disco." Natasha laughed shakily.
"We can try it together. Once…once this is over I'll take you and we'll go dancing."
I might even, once this is all over, go dancing.
"I can't dance," he whispered
"I'll teach you," He closed his eyes, the parallel of this moment too much for him to bare. "Just be there." For a moment, brown eyes replaced green, but somehow they weren't as comforting as they once had been.
He pressed his forehead to hers, taking her once more in his embrace. "We're a team, Nat. We're family. We'll see each other again." She nodded, unable to meet his eyes any longer. She snuck out of the room, not daring to look back as her tears finally fell.
When the time came for them to go, neither one took their eyes of the other until they disappeared into the tunnel.
The team's success of their mission was uncelebrated, overshadowed by the crushing loss of their friend. Thor and Bruce had travelled to Vormir to secure the stone, only Bruce had returned, his tearful face explanation enough. Thor sacrificed himself at the Vormir in place of Banner, in hopes of saving those he had failed, and joining his lost family once again, leaving his throne to Valkyrie and his hammers to Steve. They swore his sacrifice would not be in vain, and Banner could swear he could feel his close friend's spirit beside him as he made good on his promise.
The following battle, however, was even more difficult, and there were many moments where they felt the crippling fear that they might fail still. But in the end, somehow, they succeeded.
Wanda had shown strength like never before. Her powers were incredible to behold. She proved herself a terrifying opponent and she fought for everything and everyone that she had lost. Even fully armed Thanos had ultimately proven no match for her. He could not release the gauntlet from her magical grip, and with a burst of sheer power that had rocked the entire warzone to the ground, she pulled the glove from his arm and blew it to whoever could catch it.
Banner had survived the first snap and came to aid in the ensuing war. But when it came down to him to snap his fingers again, after all options had been exhausted, it had proven too much for even him to take. His battle injuries combined with the loss of his arm, with no time to recover, it had simply proven too much for his heart to bear, and he passed surrounded by those he'd grown to call friends. For Bruce's sake, Wanda conjured an image of Nat standing by him in the group, although she was nowhere to be found.
The remaining avengers, with the help of volunteers, did their best to dig through the rubble in search of her. Every time they pulled a corpse from the wreckage, Steve held his breath, waiting for the news that would certainly destroy him, only to find out the body wasn't hers. He was a wreck. The others urged him to tend to his own wounds, but he adamantly refused. He would not leave this cursed field until Natasha was safely by his side.
Bucky was the one to finally find her, and Steve all but bolted to his side. Her body was completely battered, bruises and broken ribs that almost protruded from her chest, even her face was singed. It was clear she had been hit by one of the missiles. He fell to her side, eyes brimming with tears as he brushed the hair from her face. He pulled her crumpled body towards him, hugging her to his chest as his body was racked with sobs. But as he held her hand tightly in his own, he felt something too miraculous to be real. With a start, he pressed his head to her chest.
A faint, fluttering heartbeat.
An exhausted Wanda was guarding the stones, and Steve all but begged her to trade him. She was the only one that could fly Nat to help fast enough. Steve ran as fast as his exhausted legs could carry him to meet them at the hospital. He stayed outside as they worked on her, having his wounds tended to by passing nurses as he refused to leave her side. Wanda stayed quietly beside him, holding his hand reassuringly in her own.
"She'll be fine, Captain. She's strong." He could only nod in response, tears falling as he watched them work. Tony and Clint came by after to secure the stones deciding it safer to keep three each for the time being until they could send them back. They did not stay, needing to tend to their own families. Steve said she would understand, agreeing to keep them updated.
He was soon met up by Bucky and Sam. They tried in vain to get him to leave, or rest at the very least. He adamantly refused.
"NO! No. If she…if she doesn't…."If she doesn't survive this. "I won't let her go alone." His jaw locked in an effort to contain his tears.
"She won't be alone, Steve. We'll take turns, we'll all watch her." He shook his head still.
"I'm not leaving this hospital until she's leaving with me. I'm not leaving her."
I'm not leaving you, do you hear me Nat? Don't you dare leave me.
After 17 long, painful hours the doctors finally assured them that although she was extremely injured, she would survive. It was only Bucky's grip on Steve's arm that stopped him from collapsing.
He pleaded with his friends to leave, he would remain by her side until she awoke. Eventually Wanda lost her fight with exhaustion, and Steve convinced her to return to the compound with Sam to rest. She had fought the battle of her life today, and the loss of Vision was still fresh in her mind thanks to the snap. She conceded only after a promise from Bucky that he would watch over them both. Sam bid his farewells and helped her out, leaving just the two of them.
Steve was relieved to have his best friend back, but the stress of Natasha's situation had left little room for catching up. Bucky simply continued to watch him.
"Sleep, Steve. I'll take care of her." He was beyond exhausted, his body ached terribly and his eyes begged him for rest.
"You'll wake me if anything changes?"
"Yes. I've got it. Rest." He trusted Bucky, he would watch her well. He let himself drift off.
When he awoke, Natasha was still in much the same state, Bucky still watching her while talking quietly on the phone, hanging up only moments later.
"Better?" he asked, to which Steve nodded his thanks.
"Tony's rebuilding the quantum tunnel with Scott. They're hoping to send the stones back in a few days as soon as its built."
"Whose going?" Bucky gave him a look that he understood immediately.
"Of course, it's always me." He was the one with nothing to lose. His eyes turned back to Natasha.
"You get to go back, you could visit the others." Steve thought on it, and brown eyes flashed before him once again. They still didn't seem quite as bright.
"Guess it would be nice." He conceded
Bucky watched his friend. "The fight's over Steve. The war's over."
"I know."
"What I'm saying is that your work here is done. You could have your life back. You could be happy."
A few years ago, those words would have been Steve's only dream. Now, hearing his friend say them just left an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. Would he be happy?
A shaky breath from Natasha pulled him from his thoughts, and he anxiously checked her over. Bucky watched his friend hover over her thoughtfully.
"Was she with you this whole time?" Steve nodded, sitting back down.
"She kept me sane. I…I don't know what I'd do without her."
"You love her." Steve's eyes snapped back to Bucky's, but his gaze had turned to Natasha. Love? This relationship, the strange system they had built with each other over the last five years, could they call that love? Did he love Natasha?
"I…I don't know." Steve said finally, confused.
"I do." Bucky replied back simply, before standing up and quietly leaving the room. Steve was shaken by Bucky's confidence, and it riddled with his mind until he felt Natasha begin to stir from her sleep.
Groggy green eyes fluttered open. Beautiful, bright green eyes. His heart skipped a beat, and the pressure finally released itself from his shoulders as he squeezed her hand.
"Welcome back, Romanoff."
Thanks to the serum in Nat's system, her wounds healed faster than expected. Steve helped her check for other injuries, fed her, even kept cool cloths against her skin to help with her raging fever. He did not leave the hospital until they discharged her.
Nat was grateful, but also wary. In her dazed state she had heard snippets of his conversation with Bucky, and her heart ached at the idea that her time with him was over.
Natasha loved Steve. The strong, unbreakable leader she saw on the battlefield. The fragile young soldier that sobbed into her chest in private. The passionate, haunted man that left her body burning. The funny, charming boy from Brooklyn that wore his heart on his sleeve and never failed to have hope for the future.
He had become everything to her and she had no idea what her life would be like without him.
But Steve loved Peggy. From the minute he had woken up until now, she had been a constant thought in his mind. The photo of her he carried in his compass she knew was also imprinted in his heart. Even the look on his face when she died, she knew he loved her until her last breath, and would love her until his own.
She was a good woman. She was brave, loyal, just like him, a natural born leader. She was the embodiment of hope and goodness. Peggy was everything a man like Steve deserved. And Peggy deserved Steve.
Natasha loved Steve more than she had ever loved anyone, more than her own life and everything in it. She wanted him to be happy. He deserved to finally be happy, even if she wasn't a part of it. She would make sure of it.
Peggy had made Steve who he was. She had been his first love. She had believed in him even when he was nothing.
But Nat, Nat had been through more with him than anyone else, even Bucky. They had been together through battles, through losses, through incarcerations and government manipulations and a literal apocalypse. He had not faced a situation where he couldn't count on her to be by his side. She had seen his best and his worst.
Did that mean he loved her? She was strong, brave, beautiful, everything that had drawn him to Peggy. But she was different. She was guarded and cautious, but at the same time had a heart far too big for her person. Her smiles was infectious, their banter making even the worst of their situations bearable. Her touch was a balm to all that ailed him. He shared a bond with her unlike he did anyone else.
Their relationship was completely different to his with Peggy. While Peggy had been a series of suggestive quips and stolen glances, their strong similarities pulling them together, Natasha had been quite the opposite.
They had begun as strangers from two completely different worlds, but with time they learned that it was their differences that made them such a strong duo. The more she opened up to him, the more he found himself caring for her. He couldn't imagine how he would've gotten through these last few years without her, even before the blip. There was basically nothing they hadn't done together. And the idea of leaving her now, even with their friends all returned, made a dark anxious feeling begin to bubble in his chest. Did he love her?
He closed his eyes, his thoughts threatening to overwhelm him.
The day of Steve's trip, Nat disappeared. He searched everywhere he could think of anxiously, until he stumbled upon a brown pin curl wig, the one Natasha had used oh so long ago. Atop the wig he found a a note in her perfectly cursive script.
I couldn't say goodbye, I'm sorry. You made me better, you deserve someone who'll do the same for you. -Natasha
The wig left no doubt as to who 'she' was. He searched her room to find it completely cleared out, and he collapsed on her bed, accepting that she had likely long run from here.
How she had known of that plan he had no idea, but what was clear was that Natasha was giving him her blessing. She wanted him to be with someone that made him better. In her eyes, that was Peggy.
He took the note, folded it gently into his breast pocket and made his way to meet the others. He looked around the clearing hopefully as they prepped, in case Natasha made an appearance. At the last moment as he packed the stones onto his back and Tony began the count down, he could swear he saw a flash of red hair.
At the last second Nat decided she couldn't leave without seeing him once more. She ran as fast as she could to the clearing, but her weak health ensured she made it just as he disappeared.
A stray tear fell down her cheek as she watched him vanish, but she wiped it away quickly. She had no reason to be sad. Steve had gone to be with the love of his life. He would finally live in peace and have gorgeous children and finally get the life his beautiful soul deserved. She would not deny him that happiness.
A movement nearby caught her attention, and she whirled around in shock as deep blue eyes met her gaze.
"Miss me?"
She stayed frozen in place "Wha- I don't understand. I…I just saw you leave. You…went back…you disappeared?"
"I put the stones back." He smiled softly. "And I said goodbye to Peggy."
Natasha's heart skipped a beat. "I…I don't understand…."
"I went back to see her after I returned the stones. We talked, I met her family. I told her about you. I wanted to see for myself that she was happy. And I wanted to let her know that I was happy to."
"But you loved her?" He smiled softly once more.
"I did. She believed me when no one else did, and she made me a lot of who I am. But so did you, Nat. You've been to hell and back with me. Many times, for years. You believed in me even when I didn't. What you've done for me, I don't think I'll ever deserve it. But I want to spend the rest of my life trying anyway. You're the one I can't live without, I just…needed to close the window."
He stepped forward and pulled her towards him, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist. "Peggy was my past, but if you're not unwilling…I'd like you to be my future."
Her lips found his almost immediately, her heart threatening to burst from her chest.
"I adore you," she gasped against his lips, tears rolling once more down her cheeks. He gave her a gentle squeeze.
"I love you."
Natasha, Bucky and Steve were never seen again. Those that did not know them thought them to be casualties of the war. Those close to them knew that they had simply disappeared, their fight finally over.
The trio would soon leave to meet a certain widow in Budapest, where the four of them would work together to repair and rebuild Nat's safehouse. But before that, Natasha and Steve had one last place to visit.
Steve dressed casually; a deep red t-shirt, tight blue jeans and boots. Nat came out in a tight off the shoulder dress of the same red colour that hugged her curves and cut across her thighs. Her bold red lips beckoned him in immediately.
"You look incredible." He allowed himself two, three deep kiss before trailing his mouth down her neck and continuing over her exposed shoulder.
"If you keep that up we won't leave, Rogers."
"So?" Natasha rolled her eyes, stepping back from him.
"You wanted to do this. You don't get to back out now." She gave him one last kiss. "You don't look too bad yourself."
It was a Monday night, so it was more quiet than usual.
Natasha did her best to teach Steve how to dance to the upbeat, raunchy music they were playing. He failed spectacularly, but it was fun nonetheless. He gave up completely after a while, simply pulling Natasha back to him and ignoring the music, swaying them both slowly around the room.
"Not much for modern dancing?" Natasha asked, wrapping her arms around him.
"It's ok, not really my style."
"And this is?"
"Only with the right partner." He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Being it a quiet night, the DJ switched the track for them, a song more suitable to their swaying. They smiled at each other, and Natasha let out a laugh as he awkwardly tried to spin her.
"I didn't think I'd ever get here, you know." Natasha murmured
"Neither did I."
"I thought I'd spend the rest of my life jumping between missions. Now I'm free, and I have you. It feels so surreal…and scary. I don't know how to…be. I don't know who to be."
"I thought I'd live and die a soldier, I was going to give my life so other people could have theirs. And now…I've got my own life." She pressed herself closer against him, closing her eyes. "I don't know who you should be, but I could tell you who I want you to be, if that helps."
"Yeah?" she twirled once more. "And who do you want me to be?" He pulled her head up gently from his chest and pulled a ring from his pocket. Her eyes widened in shock.
"How about a wife?" she immediately leaned up and pressed a long kiss to his lips, grinning ear to ear.
And there it is!
I know it's super weird, and super random. And super sexual :V. But I felt alot of things after the Endgame film, and writing this out helped me with that. So again, no regrets.
What did you think? Love it? Hate it? Have any opinions on the film you'd like to share with me? Let me know! And I hope to see you all again soon!
