“C’mon, we can make this work!” Natasha exclaimed desperately, following you around while you packed your bag.

“Oh can we now, Nat? See I find that hilarious.” You snarled, grabbing up your duffel bag and throwing it onto your shoulder. “You want to cheat on me and then beg for forgiveness? Not happening, not happening. I’m going to stay with Wanda until I find an apartment, I’m blocking your number, and we’re never seeing each other again.”

You could see pathetic tears start to brim Natasha’s eyes, and she rushed over to you, grabbing on to your biceps. “No, no! You don’t understand, it was a mistake but I’m going to fix it. You have to trust me baby-” You ripped your arms out of her grasp and scowled her.

“No, you’re not going to fix it. You’re going to give me empty promises, and honestly Natasha- I’m fucking fed up with them. You know I deserve better. I know I do. Don’t play with me. It’s over, it’s done.” You snapped, your patience finally breaking in half.

You almost felt a twinge of guilt when the redhead’s face fell and saw her wiping away fallen tears. You made sure to get rid of it quickly though as you stormed out of your bedroom and towards the front door, only for the desperate redhead to step in front of the door.

“Wait, wait! What can I do? Tell me something I can do, anything! I’ll do it!” Natasha sobbed, but you gently moved her out of the way and chuckled darkly.

“Natasha, there’s nothing to fix. There’s nothing to do. We’re over, we’re done. I don’t need you anymore. I'm just not into you.” You smirked, opened the door, and slammed it in her face, basking in the satisfaction of getting the last word.

“I don’t know.” Amy answered honestly. “I try not to indulge myself in such existential inquiries.”

“But you have thought of it, yes?”

“Not well enough to give you a satisfactory answer.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what I think.” You said. “The Ancient Egyptians suppose we’ll be judged on our mortal lives by their gods, weighing our hearts against a feather to examine the weight of our sins. The Christians think we’ll either go to Heaven or Hell, whatever that means. The Buddhists think we’re actually in a cycle of eternal reincarnation, and the deeds in each life affects the next, so you better be good, or you’ll be a puny ant in the next life. But you know what I think? I don’t think there’s anything at all. Utter nothingness. It’s not like we’ll feel it though, because how can we feel nothingness? I think people give importance to what comes after death because they’re afraid of the unknown. Death is just death, a chapter closed. So why don’t they just focus on living? Live life as it’s granted to you . . . But what do I know?”

Amy dusted off the charcoal that had coated her fingers and blew on the page on which she was working on a portrait of you. “Sounds like you do know quite a lot. Most people have never seen enough of the world to form such an opinion.”

“Yes. I suppose so. I suppose they haven’t seen enough.” You stared away in thought. “I could never stay in the dark for that long. It seems suffocating.”

“Well, they can’t be suffocated if they don't know what they’re missing out on.” Amy reasoned, and held the drawing over your face, blocking your view of the sun. Your fingers wrapped around the spine of her sketchbook, then you sat up with a gentle smile.

“If I had known I’d look so pretty in your drawings, maybe I’d asked you to draw me more often.” You raised your eyebrows with a smirk as you examined her work.

“I’m no impressionist, Y/N. I capture what I see.” She spoke and met your gaze.

“Is this your way of telling me I’m pretty?”

She laughed it off, but she agreed with you. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes upon, Y/N.

“You’re decent.”

Maybe Amy should have told you. She knew you could take it, but there was always something in her that held her back. You were never discreet with your affairs, she knew this because she has walked in on you in scandalous positions many times. Though that was the problem: it seemed as though you didn’t grasp the concept of courting or didn’t care enough for it. Amy loved you, but she also had self-respect; she would not throw herself onto you, only to be discarded like one of your playthings.

Fred came to visit her at home, and it seemed that Aunt March was more excited to see him than she was. He took her to afternoon tea, but not before she had to turn you down to go to the park first. Watching your excited smile collapse into a frown broke her heart. When you looked towards the street and back at her, there was that charming smirk again, which she knew by now you only sported to those who don’t know you. But Amy knew you, and she knew that you were disheartened by her rejection. “It’s alright”, you only said, “maybe another time”, and left.

“Amy.” She turned away from the sparkling water in the fountain.

“Oh, sorry. What was that, Fred?”

“I said I am quite excited for the ball tonight. Will you be wearing the dress I had made for you?” The man smiled.

“Yes, I certainly will. Thank you, Fred, it’s lovely.”

When dusk came, Amy entered the ballroom on Fred’s arm, all the while her eyes scanned the space for a figure like yours; it was never difficult to. You were already conversing with a group of young socialites whose parents were filthy rich, she figured from the way most of the commotion in the room came from them, like they owned the place. Fred had introduced her to some friends and business partners who came to visit from London.

“Oscar here is a writer. Amy, isn’t one of your sisters a writer too?” Fred asked, making her turn back to the men.

“She is, Fred.” She forced a smile.

“Oh, would I have read anything she’s written before?” Oscar, the writer asked, his Irish accent preceding him.

“Not besides some stories in the newspaper, I suppose. I haven’t seen her in years in the time I spent here in Paris. She lives in New York now.”

You watched the entire interaction from across the room. Though the distance parted you, you could see that Amy didn’t have the heart to get through this entire night. You just hoped Fred was observant enough to realize that, if not you would be the one you take care of her, you thought. That was never in question.

“Y/N, tell us the story of when you encountered pirates!”

“Yes, tell us about the pirates!”

“Alright, alright, settle down now.” You chuckled. “It must have been a couple of years back. My ship was passing through the southern region of the Caribbean when we were attacked by a pirate ship!”

You proceeded to make up the rest of the story, involving an epic showdown with the vice-captain of the pirates and knocking his golden teeth out of his mouth which, unfortunately, fell into the ocean during the encounter. You found that the story fooled the youngsters enough for them to “wow” and laugh loudly at it by the time you were done. Just then, when you glanced over to where Amy and Fred stood, they were nowhere to be found. Your shoulders sunk at the missed opportunity to talk to her, but one of the socialites caught your arm and kept you there. From the way she batted her eyelids at you and stood much closer than you would have liked, you understood her intentions. She was a pretty one, blonde hair and hazel eyes with a lopsided smile as sly as a fox’s. As gorgeous as she was, you could never pick her over the blonde artist you’ve grown to have feelings for, an occurrence which you dreaded.

You saw a flash of blonde behind the blonde that was trying her very best to capture your attention. As the girl rambled on, you watched Amy move with quick steps from one of the balconies out of the ballroom with Fred trailing behind, but stopped defeatedly once calling her name wasn’t enough to stop her.

“Excuse me for a second, will you, dear?” You told the girl and quickly followed where Amy went. You found her hunched over the railing, her head in her hands. You had never seen her so distressed like this, and when she jumped at your touch on her shoulder, something in you might have known what Fred did.

“Did you eat something to upset your stomach?” You jested in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Fred proposed.” She said, not looking at you.

“Oh.” You breathed out.

“I couldn’t give him an answer.”

“That’s no problem.” You shook your head. “He doesn’t owe you one right this instance.”

You let your hand guide her towards you. Her back was still hunched over, and she couldn’t quite meet you in the eye.

You called her name, once, twice. She listened, but she didn’t reply.

“I couldn’t give him an answer.” She echoed.

“And that is fine.”

“I should be able to, but I couldn’t.”

“Amy . . .”

“It’s because . . . I have feelings for another.”

You stood still and waited for her to elaborate, yet Amy would still not meet her eyes.

“Oh,” was all you could manage to say. “Is it Laurie?”

“No.” She groaned, her voice breaking now. “It’s you, Y/N.”

You had hoped for this, for Amy to profess her love for you or you for her, either way and you show her care in the way that you knew best. You held out hope that Amy would one day come along on your adventures, and the two of you would be held back by nothing. And she did; Amy professed her love for you, yet she looked so distressed and disoriented that you couldn’t think about anything else but the well-being the girl in front of you.

She began to walk away towards the opposite direction, her dress gliding in the moonlight like a ghost, jeweled by the light from the ballroom. You couldn’t let this happen. The girl had just poured her heart out in front of you and was now floating away like she was merely a hollow shell of herself, all of her essence she left with you. So you took a brave step forward and grabbed her arm. She was so close to you now, her chest heaving on top of yours. A single tear left her eye and you took the liberty to wipe it away.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” You whispered.

Her eyes crinkled in the light. “No.”

So you kissed her, lightly and tenderly, and everything changed.

The next morning, you woke up in your own bed in the inn you had been staying at, and you were naked under the sheets. The events of the previous night flooded back behind your eyes, yet the other side of the bed was empty.

Amy March was a mystery to you, she truly was. She was also an amazing actress. The next time you saw her, she was unlike the vulnerable girl afraid of what the future holds and in need of your comfort — she was the artist, the distinguished woman Fred Vaughn wanted to marry. Upon seeing you, there was not even a hint of change in her demeanor.

“You were ignoring me.”

“I wasn’t. I was busy.” She brushed you off so easily, it almost felt insulting. You raised your eyebrows and followed her as she attempted to walk away.

“I tried to find you at home, you weren’t there. I tried to find you at Périer’s studio, but you weren’t there either.”

“Y/N, I do not have the time to hang around with you all day. I actually have a job to do, unlike you.”

You winced mockingly. “Are you sure you’re not just avoiding me to hide the fact that you love me?”

At this, Amy turned around with the most despicable frown you have ever seen and grabbed your arm.

“Don’t say that.” She hissed and inspected her surroundings for any eavesdroppers, but no one batted an eye and went about their business. “You can’t just say things like that here, what is wrong with you?”

“Amy.” You eyed her. “There’s no shame in that.”

Amy pursed her lips so hard you thought her lips might start bleeding. Then she pulled you from the crowd towards a dark alley, and pulled you in for a rough kiss.

“I could kiss you all day like this if I could. Believe me, there’s nothing I’d want more than you.” She whispered, ghosting over your lips, her hand found the back of your neck and stroking the hairs there. “But we can’t do this, not around other people. It’s dangerous, and I can’t put you in danger, not if I can help it.”

She leaned in again, this time much slower and more passionate. “So will you please behave?”

You raised a slow smirk. “Whatever will your aunt say about this, Amy March?”

She shook her head. “I don’t care.”

I don’t care, but of course she cared. About her paintings, her pretty dresses, her money so that she could support her dreams, her vanity, her reputation . . . And that was Amy March, perhaps it was because of all of her ambitious plans that you fell in love with her, and you couldn’t blame her for wanting so much in a world where she would be given so little. You couldn’t take it all away either, you dared not. So you enjoyed it while it could, to have a woman like her by your side, because once you left this city you knew there would be no other like Amy March. “What Amy wants, Amy gets.” Laurie told you. “It’s only a matter of time.”

Most of the snow had melted by the time your stay in Paris was coming to an end. Serge had come by to let you know, and told you to pack your things to be packaged and put on the ship to avoid hassle on the day. Your bourbon sat half drunk in its bottle, and the liquid rippled when you peered inside.

“New tune?” He asked.

You hummed and kept your fingers gliding over the keyboard. You struck a chord, a major seventh and let it ring in the closed space. “This will be the greatest piece I’ll ever write, Serge.”

“I’m sure it will be.” Serge chuckled, pulling the door closed behind him. “Same old Y/N. All this for a girl you barely met.”

You let him laugh at you because he didn’t understand, but you didn’t blame him. You must seem crazy to fall in love so deeply and passionately, and be so unapologetic for how you feel. Lucky for you, you never really cared what others thought of you anyway . . . maybe Amy . . . just Amy, and no one else.

When she invited you over to her house, you didn’t hesitate to accept, as you knew it would be one of the last times you get to see her.

“So what’s your next destination, then?”

You shifted on the blanket, turning to the side where she sat with her dress fanned out like a rose beside you. You thought about not answering, but decided against it. “North Africa, just the region by the Mediterranean coast.”

“What will you do when you’ve traveled the entire world? And there’s nowhere else to go, nowhere else to explore?” Amy asked, flipping over her embroidery canvas to start a new thread.

“I’ll find somewhere nice to settle down in, somewhere quaint, maybe by the sea, maybe in the countryside . . . You know, somewhere that feels like home.”

“And? Do you already have a place in mind?”

You pointed your gaze at Amy who looked back with a soft gaze. “No.” You answered. “None in particular. Do you?”

“You know I’ll make a home out of most places.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ll make the best of my circumstances.”

“I know you would. With Fred Vaughn’s 40 000 a year, I suppose.” You chuckled under your breath.

“Don’t make fun—”

“I said his name.” You raised your eyebrows and grinned, slightly taken aback by how quick she was to respond at the mention of Fred.

“He is rich, much richer than you.” She pointed out.

Dusk was starting to approach, signalled by the harsh streaks of orange over golden sky, like one of those paintings Amy used to do when she was bored. The day was coming to an end, yet there were still so many things you wished to tell her. You adored the way time seemed to pass so fast when she was with you, which made all the time in the world insufficient to the amount you wanted to spend with her. Looking at the blinding sun peaking over the trees in the distance, you realized that time was running out for her and you.

“Don’t marry him.” You said, suddenly dropping the sarcastic banter.

Amy seemed to have sensed this and met your eyes. “Don’t do that. You know I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t just back out of this, Y/N, you know that.”

“Why not? Fred Vaughn is boring, you’re signing yourself up for a lifetime of tedious domestic work, the very thing you hate. Come with me, Amy. My crew leaves next week, and you can travel, see the world, it’ll do you good and give you inspiration for your art!”

“That—that is not what I want!” She receded from you, and stood up.

“Then what do you want?” You followed her just as she turned away.

“Stability. The ability to have financial support. You may be able to live like a traveler with nowhere to call home, but I can’t. I’m no traveler, Y/N. And have you ever asked yourself why you’re always on your feet? Why you just can’t seem to settle in one place? I think you’re scared, Y/N. You’re scared of permanence and commitment. That’s why you keep running away.”

The frown on her face persisted. You clenched your jaw and swallowed the thick and painful lump that has formed in your throat. “You’re hurting me.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” She shook her head, her eyes fixated on you so as you felt trapped, unable to escape the inevitable. “I really am, but you and I are very different people. We had our fun, but it’s time to get back down on the ground.”

“I think we’re one and the same, Amy. We’re lost souls searching for purpose in life. Do you really want stability or is that what you’re told you want?”

“I know what I want, and it’s certainly not the life you see for me.”

“So I guess we disagree.”

“I guess so.”

You hated seeing Amy cry. It made you feel like a failure. “Then I suppose this is farewell.” You spoke quietly.

She nodded with tears in her eyes. “I suppose so too.”

The streaks of orange became a wash of dark colors by the time you looked back at it when you arrived home. Nights in Paris were always more bearable with a full heart and dried cheeks.

On the day, you didn’t have the energy to get out of bed, so that Serge had to hoist you up and make you go downstairs for breakfast. You were to depart earlier, but the wind wasn’t strong enough, so the crew waited until mid-afternoon to pull the anchor. You took this opportunity to walk around the city one last time, visit the places you frequented during your stay, just to see it one more time before you go. Everywhere you went it looked the same, but there was a piece missing — the vibrancy that Amy March sprinkled all over the place like a brush full of paint. She made it clear that she didn’t want to see you despite knowing when you were leaving, so you didn’t make an effort to seek her out. The only person you said goodbye to was Laurie. He came to the docks just when you were about to board the ship.

“Amy left Paris a couple of days ago. Her sister, Beth, became very ill. She might not make it.” The man informed you.

You nodded in apprehension. “She never told me.”

“It’s a personal thing.” Laurie reasoned. “I probably would not have known if I didn’t grow up with her family.”

There was a gap between you and Amy that you couldn’t quite grasp. It was the fact that you couldn’t fathom hinging on the mold of society to survive, and it was all Amy had ever known her entire life. You realized that habits like that can’t be shaken off easily and that, like to those who Amy always tried to impress, she only showed you what she wanted you to know. It didn’t stop you from falling in love with her though; she was a willow in a field of dull weeds.

Then you remembered the piece that you had been working on. You told Laurie to wait while you dashed onto the ship and returned with some sheet paper.

“If you ever see her again, will you give this to her?”

Laurie gripped the pages, his eyes running through the staves, then a small smile spread across his lips. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m no impressionist.” You spoke. “I only capture what I see.”

“Amy’s Lullaby.” He read.

You pursed your lips. “Amy’s Lullaby.”

Laurie looked up at you, smiling, and nodded.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Amy woke up with the sun on her face. It was warm and inviting which means the snowstorm that had been ravaging for the past three days must have finally stopped. As she went downstairs, her eyebrows knitted at the sound of the floorboard creaking. Alarmed, she slowed her steps and peaked over the railings, to find a small mop of braided blonde hair on a tiny body peeking into the main living room.

Chuckling softly, she called: “Lottie, why are you up so early?”

The little lass turned around with a sullen expression and Amy glided down the stairs. “I’m sorry, Ms. Amy. as just so excited to open the presents.”

She smiled. The girl reminded her of her younger self, always so eager to discover, to see, to have, that she couldn’t blame her.

“Just wait a longer, alright?” She patted the back of her head. “We’ll open the presents after breakfast. Now go and wash yourself. Go on.”

The girl obliged without another word and dashed towards the stairs. She turned back once she reached the middle as if she remembered his manners. “Merry Christmas, Ms. Amy.”

Amy couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Merry Christmas, Lottie.”

Once all the children have woken up, the living room was filled with their sounds; chatting, laughing, fooling about. She had grown to adore this routine at the school, and to be able take care of the children like they were her own. She was a bit hesitant when Jo asked her to help along with Meg, John and Laurie, but after two Christmases spent at Plumfield (this being the second), she became quite content with her life as an art teacher. After her apprenticeship with Hugo Périer ended, there wasn’t much left for her in Paris. After Beth’s passing, she felt like her family needed her more.

“Okay, students.” Meg clapped her hands. “I think it’s about time we open our presents, yeah?”

She exchanged chuckles with the adults once the children erupted into cheers and quieted down while Meg called their names one by one.

A tap on her shoulder prompted her to look over her shoulder. Jo motioned for her to follow her. “It’s your present.” She said with a smirk.

Amy rolled her eyes as she thought of what stupid present Jo could have conjured up for her. In truth, her sister hadn’t been this nice to her for years. Amy was even prepared for a Christmas prank. She was about to give Jo a snarky remark when the words became stuck in her throat. The sound of Beth’s old piano rang in the tune of her lullaby, the one you wrote for her. This surely was a dream, maybe it was a Christmas miracle, but that meant that it was real. Jo snickered next to her and nudged her forward towards you. At her footsteps, you stopped playing and looked over your shoulder with a grin.

“Merry Christmas.” Now she knew it was real, to hear your voice so crystal-clearly. Her sister clasped her shoulder twice then left.

“How did you know where I live?” She said breathlessly.

“Laurie told me.” You only said, and Amy felt a sense of déjà vu creeping in. You stepped forwards, the floorboard sunken under your feet.

“I love the piece.” She smiled, her eyes stinging. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” You smiled genuinely. “You know, I thought about what you told me,” you began, “about me always running away and never being able to settle in one place.”

Her face collapsed into a frown. “Y/N, I was very angry. I didn’t mean it—“

“And you’re right.” She looked up with bewildered eyes as you smiled thinly at her. “I’ve been on my feet all my life, searching for something constant that I can hold onto. The truth is, I never felt at home anywhere until I came to Paris. But it wasn’t Paris, not really. I loved the architecture, the fashion, the lifestyle, but none of it felt right. Then I realized that I only loved the city because of you.”

You took another slow step towards her, but you were fumbling with your fingers and your words slowed. “I never really believed one could ever find just one person they could call their ‘soulmate’ or ‘life partner’, but then again I don’t think I’ve ever really loved anyone the way I loved you.”

Amy smiled, as a tear rolled down her cheek, and sucked in a breath.

“I made you a promise.” You said, reaching for her hands. “That I would keep you warm, and I intend to keep it. So here I am. I don’t have money or status to make you comfortable for the rest of your life, but I can offer you me. All of me, in any way you need. I’ll stand by your side, I’ll be your partner and you’ll never—”

Your words were cut off by Amy slamming her lips onto yours. How good it felt to have you in her arms again, to press her hands to your face and kiss you as long as she pleased.

“You always talked too much.” She mumbled, stroking the hairs on the back of your neck.

“It’s kind of my shtick.” You said, and tugged her hand towards the piano and made her sit down next to her. As you played the piece you wrote for her, she watched your hands and smiled.

Until she met you, Amy March had the story of her life all planned out, but no life felt right unless she got to spend it with you.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

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Everybody Talks - Part Two

You almost give up on going to the dance.

But the dorm is a complete riot, and there's no way you could sleep through all the noise, and you'd also have to deal with disappointing Carol if you canceled at the last minute, so you decide to ignore your broken heart and get ready.

You join some of your colleagues in the bathroom, and eventually accept Monica Rambeau's help with your make-up.

And then you are ready, and leaving the girls' dormitory early, and bumping into Carol on the stairs.

"Wow, you look beautiful." She comments as soon as she sees you. "Beautiful and early."

You laugh, rolling your eyes softly. "Thanks, Danvers. You don't look too bad yourself."

She giggles, offering her arm for you to hold.

"Shall we go?"

Carol leads you along the halls with an easy smile on her lips, entertaining you with small talk the whole way.

The company is pleasant, and you hope to enjoy it as much as you should.

The prom, or Spring Formal, was being organized on the seventh floor, in one of the empty rooms. And the hallways were already full of students, all dressed appropriately. You and Carol exchanged giggles when one of the kids in one of the corners thought you were teachers and quickly hid the bootlegs of booze, only to let out a relieved sigh when he recognized you.

Pietro was outside as well, wearing a suit that highlighted his eyes, and looking really handsome with his messy hair .

You greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.

"Are you finally going to tell me who your mystery date is?" you ask as Carol moves to get drinks with the kids in the hallway.

"You'll see her in a minute." He mumbles looking forward down the hall, and you sigh impatiently.

Carol returns with the drinks, and you smile as you say thank you.

"Shall we go in?" she asks.

"I wanted to see who Pietro's date was." You comment, but agree to hold her hand. "All right, see you at the party. Good night, Pietro." You lightly mock your friend's worried expression before escorting Carol inside.

Carol is quite popular, especially among the people in your year. You are not surprised that you both end up greeting many people as soon as you enter, and you end up forgetting your drink at one of the tables.

When you two finally make it to the dance floor, you finally catch sight of Pietro's date.

It's Monica, the girl who helped you earlier, and it doesn't surprise you so much. What confuses you is that Pietro has kept it so secret.

You dance with Carol for a moment, before saying that you would like to talk to your friend for a moment, and she comments that she will get you more drink in the meantime.

When you catch up with Pietro and Monica at the food table, the boy lets out a soft exclamation.

"So you finally had time for your friends." He mocks, making you laugh.

“C’mon Pietro, between a friend and a pretty girl, you can’t blame me for choosing the pretty girl.” You tease, making Monica laugh, but Pietro just waves to someone behind you, with a smirk on his face.

“Say hello to your pretty girl friends then.” He warned and you turned around, suddenly unable to breathe properly.

Natasha and Wanda were absolutely stunning in their party dresses.

You felt a familiar tingle in your stomach when you noticed the skin exposed by the cut of the dress, and while you stared like an idiot, Pietro held back his laughter.

"Earth to Y/N." He sneered but you just sighed, unable to look away from the most beautiful girls you have ever seen.

"Pietro help me, I can't stop staring. They are coming here." You mumbled embarrassed, and the boy laughed before gently turning your face to him.

"You're very gay, you know that right?" He teased, and you didn't even disagree.

Nat and Wanda caught up with you the next moment, and you tried to disguise your current state by greeting them politely. The atmosphere was awkward because of your recent argument with Nat, and it only got worse when Carol returned with your drinks.

You exchanged a quick glance with the redhead, before accepting Carol's hand and returning to the dance floor again.

You decided to try to have fun. Because Carol was pleasant company, and your friends seemed happy, and you had a right to be too.

So you danced and danced until your feet hurt.

And when you said you wanted some air, Carol held your waist, looking slightly drunk.

She was going to kiss you. You could tell by the way she looked at you, and you swallowed hard, your gaze meeting the dancing duo a few feet away before returning to the blue orbs in front of you.

And your hand touched her shoulder.

"I can't." You warned her, upset. "I'm sorry."

Carol smiled in spite of everything, and took the hand that held her, using it to spin you around in the rhythm of the music and then bringing you back to her, making you laugh softly.

"It's okay, today was fun." She says, gently swaying the two of you in the rhythm of the dance. And when you rested your hand on her shoulder, and your face on the top, she used the closeness to whisper in your ear, "It's Nat, isn't it?"

You swallowed dryly, your gaze on the dancing duo further ahead, Wanda had a shy smile that made her eyes sparkle, and Natasha was whispering something in her ear that made her cheeks blush.

"I don't know." You whispered back to the blonde, sincere in your statement. Carol sighed softly, but didn't insist.

Soon the dance was over, and you made a soft reference in appreciation making the blonde laugh. She kissed you on the cheek when you said you were too tired and would call it a night.

When she went to join her friends and left you alone on the dance floor, your gaze met Wanda and Natasha, who stopped dancing, and you gave them a sad look before turning toward the exit of the room.

You couldn't find Pietro, and figured he must be hooking up with Monica somewhere, so you left the dance without saying goodbye.

At the first corner, someone called your name, and you turned to find Natasha.

"You have no right to be angry, you know," she accused with emotion in her voice, approaching at a slow pace. You gave a humorless laugh.

"I'm not angry, Nat." You muttered annoyed. "I'm heartbroken."

"You have no right to be that either." She retorted seriously, making you roll your eyes.

"Really? I think I do." You retorted. "You know how I feel, and you won't let me speak, much less tell me if you feel the same way."

"You are such a hypocrite." She accuses stopping a couple of steps away from you. You assume an incredulous expression.

"Excuse me?"

"You want to talk about not assuming things? Fine, let's talk about you not acknowledging Wanda's feelings for you."

You hesitate, blinking in confusion and feeling your heart racing.

"I-I didn't know..."

"Cut that crap." Nat interrupts angrily. "She didn't hide them at all, you were just the one who pretended not to see. And why? Because you couldn't give her the answer she wanted, but you didn't want to ruin the friendship. Just like I'm doing now, and you're acting like I'm doing the worst thing in the world."

You take a deep breath. "I didn't know Wanda liked me." You insist, making Nat give an incredulous laugh. "I didn't know. If I had known... I..."

"What?" she interrupts, irritated. "What would you have done? You don't know! You don't know because you don't feel the same way."

You feel the tears forming, but you keep your gaze steady.

"So you admit it? You admit that you don't feel the same way about me like I asked you before?" You ask angrily, but Nat lets out a tearful laugh, shaking her head softly.

"Merlin, you're so dumb when you want to be." She grumbles, wiping the tears that threaten to fall from her eyes. "It's the exact opposite."

You feel your heart race, and you widen your eyes. But Nat gives you a sad smile.

"I can't. It's different." She says, but you don't care, stepping closer, and Nat backs away until she bumps into the wall, holding her breath when you are close enough to touch. "I can't." She repeats in a whisper and you take a deep breath.

"Tell me to stop, and I will." You whisper back, and wait. It is Nat who breaks the distance, her hands moving up into your hair as she brings your lips together in a passionate kiss that steals all the air from your lungs.

You think everything is spinning. Your body heats up, your hands move up to her waist, and her tongue slides against yours, exploring your mouth.

You've wanted to do this for so long, and it's even better than you imagined.

You sigh, affected, feeling Nat's smile on your lips. She kisses you until your legs are shaking, and you don't want it to ever end.

But there are noises of footsteps that you ignore, but Nat doesn't.

She pushes you gently, and you blink in confusion, only to meet the redhead's upset gaze, looking at someone behind you.

"Wanda, we're not-" she starts, and you turn around quickly, finding the brunette with tear-filled eyes, her fists clenched at the side of her body.

"We're not what, Nat?" she accuses angrily. "Making out in the hallway? It looked exactly like that."

You swallow dryly, taking a step to the side, suddenly too embarrassed to look either of them in the eye.

"We just-" Nat starts again but Wanda interrupts her.

"You said you wanted to try." She says and you frown, looking at the redhead in confusion, and Nat closes her eyes for a moment. " I guess you don't seem to want to try it with me."

"Wanda, it was just a kiss and-"

"Are you serious?" You interrupt angrily and indignantly. "You told Wanda you wanted to date her, and then you kissed me, and you're still going to say it meant nothing in front of me?"

Nat runs her hand through her hair nervously.

"Will you two stop accusing me and let me explain." She complains angrily and you and Wanda let out incredulous gasps.

"No!" you both reply together, and you glare at Wanda.

"Why didn't you ever tell me you liked me?" You ask impatiently, and Wanda hesitates, widening her eyes.

"I don't..."

"Wanda." Nat warns, and the brunette looks down at the floor, taking a deep breath.

"I knew you didn't feel the same way." She declares and you sigh.

"If even I didn't know that, how would you?" You say and Wanda looks at you in surprise, and Nat frowns.

"What the fuck, you just kissed me and you're declaring yourself to another girl?" Accused the redhead making you give a wry laugh.

"Hypocrite!" You retort. "I just heard that you told her you'd like to try, and you kissed me!"

"I never said I liked you!" Nat retorts and you let out an impatient sigh. "I have always been in love with Wanda."

"What the fuck, Natasha?" You ask in a mixture of indignation and hurt. Nat swallows dryly. "Why did you kiss me then?"

"Because I wanted to." She retorts emotionally, her eyes filling with tears again. "I hated seeing you with Carol! I don't know what's going on, I can't be with you, but I can't pretend I don't feel anything."

You rubbed your temple.

"You just said you like Wanda-"

"I do." She insists, glancing briefly at the brunette who has crossed her arms, and looks pensive. "But I like you too."

"That doesn't make sense." You grumble stubbornly, running your hands through your hair. "Who do you like more?"

"I don't..." She starts, and takes a deep breath. "I don't know.”

"Then fucking figure it out!" You retort angrily, and Nat clenches her jaw.

"I don't know!" She retorts, and you sigh in irritation. You were about to tell her to make a decision, but Wanda uncrossed her arms and stepped forward, her hands going up to pull Nat to her and kiss her on the mouth.

Nat sighed in surprise, but kissed back. And you looked wide-eyed, watching. Your mouth salivated, and you felt a twinge of excitement run through your body at the image of the two of them kissing, but you were too shocked to say anything.

Wanda pulled away at the same speed as she approached, her hands still on Nat's shoulders.

"Which was better?" The brunette whispered affectedly, her pupils dilated. And Nat was the same way.

"I don't know." She whispered back, and looked at you. "I can't choose."

You sighed, and moved closer too, kissing Nat, who sighed against your lips.

Suddenly you were enveloped in a cloud of excitement, the idea of Wanda watching you turned you on more than you expected to.

And then you broke the kiss, finding Nat's dilated pupils and swollen lips in front of you.

"It's only fair that you kiss Wanda now." Nat whispers and you nod softly before turning your head to the brunette beside you.

Wanda advances against your mouth, and you gasp, shocked at how much you missed her soft lips.

And this time you don't feel alcohol on her tongue, and it's even more delicious.

You kiss her until you need to breathe, and when you part she kisses Natasha again, but she leaves her arm around your waist as she does so. Your heart is racing as you watch them.

When Nat kisses you again, you hear a hissing in the hallway.

"Geez, girls, why didn't you invite us?" Teases a male voice, and the three of you quickly move away, staring in shock at two tall, appearing drunk boys. "A party like that."

"Fuck off, asshole." Natasha warns taking a step forward, but you suddenly become very aware of what you were doing.

The boys laugh, raising their hands high as they see Nat take out her wand, but you are leaning against the wall, running your hand through your hair.

"Fucking jerks." The redhead grumbles before turning to you and Wanda again. "Are you guys okay?"

"What the hell was that?" You ask incredulously. "What are we doing?"

Wanda swallows dryly, looking down at her shoes. Nat sighs.

"We just... just..." She tries to formulate but looks as confused and surprised as you do.

"I liked it." Wanda declares next, and you raise your eyes to her. "I liked it both."

There is a moment of silence, and then Nat speaks.

"Me too."

You think the hallway has gotten too small. "I can't do this." You say. "I'm sorry, it's too much."

It is your last word before you walk past them, and out toward your dormitory.

All you do along the way is think. In your conflicting feelings, and the feel of Wanda and Nat's lips on yours, and then the image of the two of them kissing.

You can't sleep well, but you force yourself to try. When you dream, it's about them.

//-//-//-//-//-///

You spend Sunday inside the dorm.

Your roommates ask if everything is okay, and you lie by saying yes.

Monica tries to cheer you up by talking about the dance and about being dating Pietro now, but you can barely keep up.

She leaves you alone at lunchtime.

You force yourself to take a shower, and put on a comfortable sweater. You have unfinished homework, but you can't concentrate on anything.

All you can think about is that you were doing something very wrong last night.

As you lay there, hugging your pillow, you think about how it felt to understand that you liked girls. Going through it had been hard enough, and you didn't want to deal with coming out of the closet again.

You couldn't even tell if you were allowed to like two people, if it existed, or if there was something wrong with you.

All you knew was that you were steeped in guilt and melancholy, rejecting the idea that you were in love with your two friends.

Unfortunately you cannot stay locked in your room for the next few days.

The NEWTS were reason enough for you to push those thoughts away, and to refocus on school.

You avoided Natasha and Wanda like the plague, barely able to keep your eyes on them without remembering what you two did.

Fortunately, your exams were keeping you all busy.

It wasn't until the middle of the week after the dance, after your particularly exhausting charm test, that you couldn't ignore Natasha.

"Yes, it was Romanoff's father." You were just going to take a sip of your coffee when you heard Nat's last name in conversation next to you, between two boys who were holding the diary prophet open on the table. You raised your eyebrow. "I heard that the ministry arrived in the early morning."

You turned to him, and leaned in. "What are you guys talking about?"

"You haven't heard?" The older boy asked incredulously, and then grabbed the newspaper and tossed it to you. "The ministry found a connection between Alexei Shostakov and dark wizards from the first war. The front page of the Prophet covered his arrest."

You widened your eyes, grabbing the paper.

There it was. A picture of Nat's father in handcuffs, being taken away by the ministry. The huge headline "Red Guardian arrested in Russia." And some details about how the British ministry had trouble investigating Alexei's past as a dark wizard because he had moved to Russia, and the country's ministry had different laws.

You read the story faster than you would like to admit. The story is about Alexei having worked under the pseudonym of "Red Guardian" during the first Wizarding War, responsible for several Muggleborn disappearances, and even murders. And then there were the reporters' comments about it being a great loss to the wizarding community, the Romanoff family being one of the pureblood families that maintained the stability of blood purity.

You handed the paper back to your colleague, and stood up after thanking him, determined to ask if everything was all right with Natasha.

But when you reached the Slytherin table, you saw her nowhere to be seen. You quickly looked for Wanda, and only found her outside, talking to Pietro.

"Have you guys seen Nat?" you asked, ignoring the way your stomach flipped with anxiety at seeing the brunette again.

" She left, Y/N." Wanda stated and you looked at her with confusion. "Melina came for her earlier today. She has to be a witness at the ministry."

"What?" you asked incredulously. "B-but what about the Newts?"

"Fury said she doesn't have to worry about that." Pietro replied. "He'll let her do the exams when she gets back."

"Have any of you talked to her?" You ask. "Was she okay?"

"She was stressed." Wanda comments, crossing her arms. "And there were these idiots at the dorm door saying stupid things, and she only got worse. But then Fury came in with Melina, saying she'd have to testify on her father's behalf, and she left."

You sigh. "Damn, that's awful." You comment, and there is a moment of silence. "Y-you think it's true? That her father really is a..."

"Murderer?" Wanda completes, sounding less surprised than you. "It's quite likely, Y/N. The first war, well, it was actually a pretty bad thing. The persecution of the muggleborn, the propaganda of blood purity. My father may have gotten his pardon, but he always told us about how cruel the whole thing was."

"You don't think Nat's father regretted it?" You ask, and Wanda and Pietro exchange glances.

"Honestly, no." Pietro says. "Unlike Dad, Alexei never stopped advocating blood purity. You know how Nat was before you two were friends. I just hope she won't be so upset about the whole thing."

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Do you think Melina will make her testify in favor of her father?"

"I don't know, Y/N." Wanda says. "If Alexei really is the red guardian, the minister will want him in Azkaban. It doesn't matter if Melina forces her daughter to lie."

"I wish I could help Nat."

Wanda sighs, nodding in agreement. "Me too. But the only thing we can do is wait."

The lunch bell rings shortly after, and you say goodbye to Wanda to go to the History of Magic room with Pietro.

The test is considerably more difficult because you cannot remember the dates of the elves' idependency when you are thinking about Nat, but Pietro nudges you gently when he notices your lack of attention and you try to concentrate again.

You hope to get at least an acceptable score, but when the test is over you are not so sure.

With the whole Nat thing, and the lack of her in the castle, you go back to talking to Wanda.

It's still superficial, because neither of you bring up the subject of the ball, but it's better than silence.

Alexei's trial takes place on Friday, at the same time as your last exam, and the celebratory mood of the graduates doesn't quite match your nervousness over hearing from Natasha.

You rush out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Pietro at your side, straight into the dungeon after Wanda.

The Slytherin communal hall has its doors open, because the students are celebrating the end of their exams, but you still get judgmental looks for being down there.

Wanda is standing next to a radio, biting her nails, next to her are Loki Odinson and Sylvie Lushton, two Slytherins from the same year as you, who are also listening to the wizarding news.

You and Pietro approach the group.

"Is the result out yet?" You ask as you greet everyone.

"In a few minutes." Wanda replies with her gaze focused on the small stereo.

You stand in silence as you listen to the news, the witch talking about the economy and the weather, until finally the report of the trial of the "Red Guardian" is broadcast.

"And now about directly from the Ministry of Magic, the finalization of the trial of Russian wizard Alexei Shostakov, which took place this morning." Announced the reporter, and you all held your breath. "A surprising twist in the court, wasn't it Miss Weasley?"

"Indeed, Mrs.Lovegood." Agreed the other anchor. "The magic council is having difficulty maintaining a stable prosecution because of the legal differences between the British and Russian ministry, but the allegation by the defendant's own daughter, the witch Natasha Romanoff, has changed the course of the investigation in the ministry's favor."

The reporter's words make you widen your eyes.

"Exactly, Ginny. The judge was about to revoke the defendant's arrest when the witnesses were heard. The defendant's daughter presented a private collection of dark items to the court, as well as letters written by Mr. Shostakov. It was a gigantic commotion at the trial when Alexei tried to assault his daughter for testifying against him."

"An intense trial, but one that ended with a life sentence in Azkaban for the defendant, fortunately for the family of his victims." The other reporter continued, and you and the group let out sighs of shock. "And that story ended well for the killer's family, too, didn't it, Luna?"

"Yes, you are correct." Retorted the other reporter. "With Alexei's confession, the family's entire fortune was divided between the daughters, Natasha and Yelena, as well as the now ex-wife, Melina Vostokoff. The Daily Prophet tried an interview with them, but they asked for space at this sensitive moment and..."

Loki lowered the radio, commenting excitedly about finally having caught up with the red guardian, and you turned to your friends, smiling in a mixture of relief and disbelief.

Nat was fine. Safe, and free from her father. And Wanda seemed to understand the same, because she gave a relieved laugh and hugged you tightly.

Pietro joined in the hug too, but you let go quickly after that. You weren't ready to touch Wanda again. You ignore the way your body trembled and try to disguise it, trying to follow Pietro's suggestions to visit Nat and bring gifts.

After that, you planned to join your friends in Hogsmeade on Saturday, being the last trip as Hogwarts students, where all the students of your year were going too.

You ended up waking up earlier than expected the next day, and decided to disturb Pietro.

He was asleep when you arrived in the boys' dormitory, and you threw a pillow over his face.

Grumbling with dissatisfaction he tried to go back to sleep, but you tickled him until he woke up.

"Merlin, what's your problem?" He complained, finally getting up. "It's still dawn."

You laughed, sitting down on the empty bed next to Pietro. Most of the boys had gotten up for breakfast.

"We're going to Hogsmeade today, you can't sleep until noon." You retorted and Pietro let out a sigh.

"Speaking of which, Wanda got a letter last night." He says stretching and reaching for a towel. "Natasha is meeting us at the Three Broomsticks."

"Oh." You sigh. "Cool. Cool."

Pietro raises an eyebrow, then laughs. "You guys still haven't worked things out, have you?"

"I think we just made it more complicated."

Pietro sighs. "Look, Hogwarts is nearing its end. Maybe things will get easier now that we'll be home, and you'll have time to think far away from each other."

"I don't want to be away from any of you, Pietro." You murmur, making him smile.

"You're so cheesy, Y/N." He scoffs walking away. "I'm going to take a shower, we'll have some beers and lament your lack of ability to flirt with girls later."

You laugh at the teasing, deciding to wait for Pietro in the bedroom, distracting yourself with the collection of cards of famous wizards he has.

You smile when Peter Quill enters the room, looking for a scarf, and he lets out an exclamation when he recognizes you.

"I was hoping to talk to you, Y/N!" He says and you make a playful expression.

"I'm all ears, Quill." You say making him laugh softly. He sits down on the bed in front of you, looking almost anxious.

"It's nothing serious, I just wanted to say that I was happy to hear that there was another witch, and moreover a muggleborn like me, who was also poly." He declares, and you widen your eyes immediately.

"S-sorry, what?"

He smiles confusedly, "I heard about the prom. Well, the kids were being jerks, and saying disgusting things, so I punched them in the face and earned a detention, but before that McFlay commented on you dating Romanoff and Maximoff, and I thought it was amazing to have another polyamorous witch at Hogwarts, because I've never met another and-"

"Wait a minute, what did you say it's called? Poli, what?" you interrupt in shock, and Peter blinks in confusion before repeating.

"Polyamorous, you know? People who like more than one person."

"That's a thing?" You exclaim making Peter smile.

"Of course it is."

You sigh in relief. "Merlin, I thought I was going crazy." You confess suddenly feeling like crying with happiness, and running your hand over your face. "I can't believe there's nothing wrong with me."

"Of course not, Y/N." Peter says, touching your knee with his hand, smiling tenderly at you. "It's okay to like more than one person. Damn, I should have come to you as soon as I knew, I didn't know you were going through these doubts. I would have helped you."

You let out a tearful laugh, touching Peter's hand in appreciation.

"It's okay, buddy, that's helped enough actually." You say and he smiles, "But I'm not dating anyone. And McFlay is an idiot."

"Oh, I'm sorry." He says. "You three are a good match if you ask me. It's a pretty powerful trio."

You laugh shyly, still impressed to know that everything was okay with you.

"Peter, tell me more about this Polyamory thing please?" You ask, and he nods in agreement.

For the next few minutes you listen to him talk about the topic, and are surprised to learn that this long there was an LGBT student alliance at Hogwarts, but that you were never part of it. That would have been very useful. Peter talks about polygamy, open and closed relationships, and you really listen. It is a huge relief to know that you were not doing something immoral or wrong, and that other people felt as you did too. Quill also tells you that he is bisexual, and polyamorous like you, but he has never met another wizard, much less a muggleborn like himself, who was polyamorous.

"And that's basically it." He says. "Of course, there's a lot more to it about many other sexualities, and I think if you join the group you'll understand them all."

"But Hogwarts is at the end." You say confused and Peter gives a chuckle.

"Don't worry, we will continue with a group beyond the school." He says, and gets up to walk towards his own bed. After rummaging through his drawers, he pulls out a piece of paper, and brings it to you.

It is a brochure from the Hogwarts LGBTQI+ Wizard's Union, colorful and magically enchanted. You smile at the paper.

"You can talk to the leader, Steve Rogers, this afternoon in Hogsmeade. We're going to have one last end-of-year meeting and then he'll tell us how things will be organized after Hogwarts."

"Peter, that's incredible." You say turning your gaze back to the boy. "Thank you so much."

"Don't mention it, mate." He says smiling. "Well, I'm off, see you in Hogsmeade?"

"Sure."

When Peter comes back from the bathroom, you are still smiling.

And during the walk to the communal hall, you tell him about what Peter explained to you and he listens to everything carefully.

"But are you sure you are in love with both of them?" He asks as soon as you finish speaking, and you sit down at the Gryffindor table.

You sigh slightly. "I think so."

Pietro gives a short laugh. "That's not good enough, Y/N. You need to be sure. You can't throw that in theirs laps and not even know if you're really in love."

You mutter that he is right as you put cereal on a tray. Pietro is rubbing jam on some toast when you speak again.

"But how can I be sure?" You ask and he raises his eyebrows slightly, before sighing.

"Okay, I was going to say you are joking, but I realized that it took me two years to really understand that I was in love with Monica and not just friends with her." He comments and you laugh softly.

Pietro pours some juice for you. "Why don't you try thinking about how you feel about each one?"

You stir your cereal, sighing softly as you try. "Okay, let me think." You mutter. "The two of them have been my friends for years. I always knew I liked Nat. She's amazing, brave, strong, and clever. I like how she seems so serious and angry to everyone, but when you get to know her she is so soft and funny. She always makes me laugh when I'm upset, and I love her sarcasm."

"And Wanda?"

You have a silly smile on your lips. "Wanda is both the opposite and equal of Nat. She is temperamental, and seems angry and hard to approach when you first meet her, but she is so lovely. And she's gentle, and sweet, and I never get tired of just being around her, or listening to her talk. She knows me so well that it's almost embarrassing. It's ridiculous to think that it took me so long to realize that I was in love with her too."

Pietro takes a long bite of his toast, and you sigh.

"I really think the three of us are in perfect balance, Pietro." You say. "Where Nat needs it, I support her, so that Wanda can support me second. And that works in reverse, in all directions."

"So what's the problem?"

He asks as he notices her upset expression.

"I have no idea if they feel the same way." You say, and then swallow dryly. "And I don't know if I want to choose.”

"Maybe they'll stay together so you won't have to." He comments, and you look at him indignantly.

"Thanks, Pietro." You say ironically, making him laugh.

"Hey, at least if they choose each other, you'll have a chance to meet other people." He explains. "And you'll be able to maintain the friendship. I get the impression that if you choose one of them, you lose the other."

"That really doesn't reassure me." You mutter unhappily, giving up eating as you push the cereal tray aside.

Pietro laughs softly, stroking your hair as you lay your head on the table.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. But I'm here for whatever you need." He says and you mumble a thank you.

Pietro pushes the tray of cereal back to you. "Please eat something. You are insufferable when you are hungry."

You point the middle finger at Pietro, but obey.

Over breakfast, you think about how exactly you are going to broach this subject with the girls.

//-//-//-//-//-//

a“How was the psych eval?”

Natasha Romanoff lingers in your doorway with a mug of coffee and a scowl.

“Thorough,” you tell her without looking up from your workbench. You’ve been toying with the grappling hook launch controls on your utility belt for the better part of an hour.

“Big man says you were difficult.”

You were not.

You’d make that clear if you cared, but you don’t. And if Tony Stark cared about your difficulties he’d pull you from the roster. Fact that you’ve got a seven am mission briefing the next day tells you everything you need to know.

A noncommittal noise falls from your lips to fill the silence.

Natasha steps into the room. The door clicks shut behind her. “Were you actually difficult?” Her tone softens. You don’t like that. “Or was it your charming brevity? I know talking’s not your favorite thing.”

In that moment you don’t like that she knows you and you really don't like that there isn’t a way to tell her as much without sounding like a grade-a asshole. Not that she would mind—you really doubt she would—but you’re still stuck on that pesky wanting to please her thing. It’s been seventy-two hours since the day in the jet and you still haven’t figured out a way to force her from your mind. And to think you used to be so good at pushing people away.

“Dunno, Nat,” you mumble, huffing. You push a torx driver a little too hard into a screw and the panel it secures sprouts a hairline crack. “Motherf—what more do you people want from me? I answered their questions.”

Natasha drops a tablet onto the workbench and taps the screen.

Security cam footage.

You grit your teeth and wish Natasha wasn’t over your shoulder, watching you watch this.

Conference room four.

An unremarkable woman in a pencil skirt sits across from you with a legal pad and a pen.

You’re stone-faced and still, hands clasped in your lap, looking right at her.

“Do you experience compulsive thoughts relating to the incident that took the lives of your parents?”

“No.”

“Do you suffer from nightmares about the incident that took the lives of your parents?”

“No.”

“Do you experience flashbacks to the incident? By this I mean—”

“I know what you mean. And no.”

“If something happens that reminds you of the incident, does it trigger an intense emotional response?”

Yes. Sometimes. But you’re careful not to show it.

“No.”

“Do you actively avoid things that remind you of the incident?”

“No.”

True. You tend to seek them out.

“Have you experienced generalized anxiety since the incident?”

“No.”

True enough.

“Trouble sleeping?”

“No.”

That one, at the very least, is only half a lie.

“Do you startle easily?”

“No.”

True.

“Do you feel that the—”

“Say the word incident one more time and I’m gonna flip my fucking lid. I don’t have PTSD.”

“What does that mean, ‘flip your lid?’”

“Get violent. I don’t know.”

“Are you stating that you intend to inflict violence upon me if I continue administering this evaluation?”

“No. I don’t—don’t hurt people who don’t deserve it.”

“Who does deserve it?”

Bullshit question.

She’s leading you.

It’s fine.

“Nobody at present,” you tell her.

“Who deserved it in the past?”

You shift in your seat, crossing your arms, trapping your hands between your elbows and ribs.

They already know. This lady, Tony, all of them. You don’t think there’s a single person on the compound who hasn’t read your file.

“Family.”

“Whose family?”

“Mine.”

“When you speak of your family do you include yourself?”

There it is.

You smile, mocking and sweet, and, “Obviously,” you say.

The video stops.

Natasha spins you around in your chair and clamps her hands on your shoulders. She’s the first person to touch your skin, your actual body, no barriers, since the day on the jet. All at once you wish you were wearing more than a tank top and wish she’d never stop touching you.

“By that logic,” she says, “your own logic, you deserve to be dead.”

“By the logic of all the world, actually,” you say, “yes. I should’ve been dead the day my family was. Don’t think it takes a professional to figure that out.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use so many words at once.”

You roll your eyes.

“Look at me,” Natasha says next, and doesn’t speak again until you do. “I know you’re fucked up—so am I. It sort of comes with being one of us. And—”

“Your point?”

“Don’t be a jackass,” she says, laying a firm pat on your cheek that feels more like a slap than you were expecting. “I’m trying to tell you that the deaths of your parents are in the past. It’s done. But the idea that you’re walking around wishing you were dead, too? Not okay.”

“Right.”

“We need you.”

“That so?”

It’s true enough.

Tony wouldn’t have recruited you if you weren’t valuable, if you couldn’t do things nobody else could. You’re so ingrained in the operations of the Avengers that at this point, yeah, they probably do need you. Teams are reliant on their members, and whether you like it or not the Avengers are the only people who haven’t kicked you to the curb the moment they found out what exactly is in your past.

It isn’t until Natasha says, “Listen to me. It wasn’t your fault, and you shouldn’t torture yourself over it,” that you realize how wrong you are.

Your eyes narrow.

In less than a millisecond you make a weighted decision.

Your hands knock hers from your shoulders. You need space between the two of you if you’re going to let this conversation unfold. You don’t want her that close when you confide, you don’t think you could handle watching her recoil.

“What do you know about the deaths of my parents?”

Natasha furrows her brow, says, “They were shot point-blank by a HYDRA rogue after refusing to turn over their research on genetic engineering.”

You don’t know why you want to tell her.

You know it’ll ruin everything.

But if Natasha doesn't know, who else is in the dark?

You don’t want to spend your time around a team that doesn’t even know the fundamentals of your history. You want them to know exactly what you are, and if after that they still want you to stay? You will.

“I was never a rogue,” you tell her, gritting your teeth, “and I was never HYDRA.”

Natasha steps back. “You—?”

“And they didn’t refuse to turn over anything.” Your voice is thickening, getting rough around the edges. “I didn’t even ask for it, I’d already seen it all.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

It isn’t pity that she’s looking at you with but you can’t place whatever it is and that alone makes you want to put your head through a wall.

“I’m saying that I was an experiment. Bred in a lab to be the perfect, indestructible child. You had the Red Room, I had the house I grew up in.”

“But” — she’s pacing, never getting any closer to you than where she started — “you aren’t indestructible. I know you aren’t.”

“They made a mistake in my genetic code. I can bleed if I want to, I can feel pain under the right circumstances, but I’m not sure that I can die. And—”

It clicks so plainly on her face.

“You want to find out,” Natasha finishes for you. She comes to a stop, studying you from across the room, and you can see her putting the pieces together like you’re right there in her mind. “You didn’t kill your parents. You killed your captors.”

“You killed Dreykov.”

“…Touché.”

/

“You altered my file. Why?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to walk in here as the mommy and daddy killer. Was I wrong?”

He wasn’t.

Mostly.

But.

“I thought everyone knew.”

“I know,” Tony says, and to his credit he does manage to look apologetic. “And you thought they accepted you anyway. Which they do, still, by the way. Now that they actually know.”

No matter how deep you dig you can’t find it in yourself to be upset with him. He only did what believed was best. For you and for the team. You know more than most what a decision of that caliber feels like.

“Right,” is all you say.

You turn to go.

“You’re taking Romanoff with you,” Tony says before you make it out the door, “on the Evora job. And on all jobs from here on out.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Stark.”

“Maybe not,” he says, “but good luck telling her that.”

/

Natasha’s behavior around you hasn’t changed.

You don’t know whether that’s because things are genuinely the same or because she wants you to think things are the same.

It’s hard to gauge whether it actually matters one way or the other.

“Guy calls himself Elemento.”

“Gross.”

“Yup,” Natasha says, “but he can bend the elements to his will.”

Your behavior around Natasha has changed, if only a little. You’re talking more. Mostly to fill the silences she leaves hanging in the air, the spats of quiet that make your head hurt.

“Bullets and martial arts won’t do much against that,” you say. “Offense a little intended.”

“Ouch.” She’s grinning. “You can’t be bent, however. I’m just backup.”

She’s right.

As usual.

You’re an experiment the elements can no longer touch. You put your ability to be altered to bed the day you shot your parents.

Elemento can’t bend you.

And he doesn’t.

His gift only works when he’s breathing.

You putting your hand through the skin of his throat and tearing out his windpipe takes care of that. The bullet between his eyes takes care of the rest.

Spilling Elemento’s blood across the white tile floor of his laboratory is the closest you’ve ever come to creating fine art. When it splashes across the front of your battle suit and freckles you in red you reckon it’s the most color you’ve worn since childhood.

Before his body hits the floor you’ve pulled his hard drive and crashed out through the nearest window.

It isn’t until you’ve got an arm around a rung of the rope ladder dangling from Natasha’s chopper that you realize you’re still holding onto the flesh you pulled from his neck.

You wait to ask your questions until Elemento and his ruined lab in Evora are six hours behind you and you’re mostly cleaned up, until Natasha’s found an itty-bitty hotel room to camp out in for the night.

“Why does Stark give me the messy assignments?”

“He trusts you,” Natasha says without looking up from a dime-store paperback she swiped from the front desk. “And you have considerably fewer morals about leaving loose ends.”

So that’s it.

“Right.”

You don’t say much for the rest of the day.

You just sit on the floor at the foot of the bed and think. Mostly about the fact that okay, yeah, you don’t think too much when it comes to killing the people Tony wants you to kill, and a little about the fact that Natasha doesn’t seem to mind the carnage. Whatever red she had in her ledger doesn’t keep her from letting you have your fun.

Funny word for what you do for the Avengers, that one. Fun.

You weren’t allowed much fun as a kid. Hell, you can barely call your upbringing a childhood.

Most of what you remember is being pricked for blood, being rolled under x-ray machines, withstanding test after test until your parents were satisfied with their creation. You remember asking to celebrate holidays, birthdays—anything—and being told no. You remember watching the neighborhood kids board the school bus every morning from your bedroom window and hating that you weren’t allowed to go to regular school with them. Most of those memories are laced with hate.

Makes sense that murder constitutes fun these days.

“Hey.”

You pull yourself out of your thoughts.

The window’s gone dark.

Natasha has the bedside lamp on, casting a dim yellow glow across the little room, and she’s right there with you, dangling her head off the end of the bed and peering at you with affectionate amusement.

“You’ve been in your head for hours,” she tells you. “It’s four am.”

“Oh.”

“Come to bed.”

You look down at your clothes: gray tactical pants splattered with blood, boots caked in dust and dirt, sweat-stained tank top clinging to your chest. Off in the corner your battle jacket lies crumpled in a heap.

“I should shower.”

You wait until the water’s scalding before stepping in.

When you get out your skin’s red and warm and in the foggy mirror you notice a gash along the length of your forearm. It doesn’t need stitches but you figure Natasha’s going to say something about it anyhow.

She does.

“That hurt?”

“No.”

“Did you clean it?”

“Are you always such a mom?”

“My sister would say yes.”

You dress in a spare tee and a pair of sweats with the gaudy Avengers logo on the hip.

There’s only one bed.

You crawl in and lay still on your back.

Natasha props herself up on an elbow and studies you.

“You said you can bleed when you want to, and feel pain under the right circumstances. What does that mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like it means.”

“Elaborate,” she says.

“Later.”

“Fine.”

She kills the lamp.

It takes her ten minutes to decide to slip a hand over your bicep and squeeze. Another five to tuck her leg up over your hip. When you don’t move she finds your hand and pulls it to her thigh, and, “Just—there,” she mumbles against your ear. You squeeze, she hums.

Eventually, you don’t know how long—you lost track of the minutes as soon as she invited you to touch her—Natasha’s lips find your skin. She leaves soft kisses along your jaw, slow and steady, until she finds your lips and licks into your mouth with a gentle curiosity that distracts you enough not to notice the hand slipping under your shirt until Natasaha’s nails bite into your skin.

For a moment you want to ask what this is, what the time on the jet was. You push the thought away as Natasha swings a leg over your hips, mounts you, and leans over to flick the lamp on.

“I want to try something,” she says, peeling your shirt off, grazing her fingertips over your sternum and down your stomach. Then she pulls a knife on you, a little folding one that snaps open with a satisfying click. The sound itself is enough to light a fire deep in your core.

You don’t nod. You don’t speak. You just smile, dreamy and expectant, because while it isn’t a loaded gun it does still excite you.

Natasha sets the blade at the base of your throat, and, “I want you to bleed,” she says, brows raising. “Can you do that for me?”

You can. Even though you can hear your heart thudding in your ears and you can feel the scorching tingle of arousal as it shoots down your spine, you can do it.

The knife follows the path her fingers took only moments ago: over your chest, between your breasts, along the divot between the muscles of your stomach. In its path little droplets of blood sprout before your eyes, painting you red for the second time that day. Natasha wipes the blade on the sheets and drags her fingers over the thin wound, smearing blood across your skin.

A moment passes in silence, you watching Natasha while she inspects the slice she put into you. In that moment your heart picks up, thundering against your ribcage, and you know she can feel it just as easily as she can see the heavy rise and fall of your chest.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Rhetorical—she’s smirking. “No blood this time. I don’t even want to break your skin.”

You have to think about it for a moment, tunnel way back into the corners of your mind to find the switch that kills your pain receptors and fortifies the density of your skin, but you can do it. You’d only practiced finding and hitting that switch under the clinical observation of your parents a thousand times as a child. It used to take you hours—this time it takes only seconds.

When the blade slides over your skin this time, nothing happens. Not even a scratch.

“Like a butter knife against marble,” Natasha mumbles.

You can’t tell if she’s studying you as a whole or just the cut and the would-be one. At least she hasn’t said anything about the fact that you’ve fought by her side time and again and not once has she ever seen you refuse a wound. Surely it means something, to her or whichever psychologist Tony has on retainer this month, that you choose to let yourself get hurt when things come to blows, but you think it’s hardly the time to dwell on that.

The knife clatters onto the bedside table.

“Sorry,” she mutters, pressing her palm against your abdomen, grazing her nails over the firm muscles she finds there. “Although I’m absolutely certain you don’t need an apology. Still—not every day I hurt one of my own on purpose.”

“One of your own, huh?”

She rolls her eyes.

“I wouldn’t be here to keep an eye on you if I didn’t care.”

“You sure it isn’t just so you can get into my pants again?”

“All I have to do is smile at you to accomplish that.”

“Touché.”

Natasha smiles.

You prop yourself up on your elbows to meet her halfway as she ducks down to kiss you. The taste of her tongue is second only to the taste of her cunt, and you consider yourself lucky to know the taste of both.

Doesn’t take much more than a heavy hand of yours slipping down between her legs and cupping her through her little sleep shorts to convince Natasha to let you have her. You get her out of her bottoms and push your fingers through slick lips, pushing her wetness around with your fingertips before sinking into her in one fluid motion.

You almost ask her if it’s good, if it’s enough, but her eyes rolling skyward, her fingertips pressing into your skin, and her back arching as she rolls her hips against your hand tell you all you need to know. She’s warm and wet and tight around your fingers as you stroke her from the inside, practically coaxing her wetness out of her cunt and into the palm of your hand.

“Good?” You ask anyway because even with the pleasure written on her face you still value a verbal confirmation.

“Good,” Natasha says, nodding.

Before you can say anything else she slips an arm around your neck and rolls onto her back, pulling you right down on top of her with your hips nestled between her thighs and your hand trapped between your bodies.

“Better,” she says, smirking up at you. “Fuck me like this—like you mean it.”

“Easy,” you tell her, because it is, because you really do mean it.

You thrust your fingers into Natasha’s warm cunt while she mouths at your throat, sinking her teeth into the soft spot where she finds your pulse, sucking a bruise into your skin that you know will linger for days, and you don’t think you’ve ever been so eager to wear a mark before. And you’re still bleeding, smudges of blood on your chest staining Natasha’s shirt from where she presses up against you, but you don’t care, and you don’t think she does either.

Notching your hips against the back of your hand and using the steady grind to fuck your fingers into her helps, makes it feel a little like what you’d guess a biological male might feel in this situation, holding yourself above Natasha with an arm that’s starting to cramp while you push into her. You’d watch if you could, you reckon the sight of your fingers disappearing into her clenching hole is a mighty fine one, but she’s palming at your breasts, teasing your nipples, and her arms are in the way. You settle for slipping a third finger into her cunt, stretching her open, grunting happily as she keens into your ear and gushes around your fingers.

“I wish I had your stamina,” she mutters through a yawn, pushing her hands through your hair as you crawl down her body, settling on your belly between her legs. “You aren’t going to let me sleep yet, are you?”

You give your answer by burying your face in her cunt, licking through her lips, grazing your teeth over her sensitive clit, and drinking her in. She tastes better than you remember: heady and intense and entirely Natasha. You hum against her, prop one of her legs over your shoulder, and coast your hands along her thighs. She’s warm to the touch and warm against your tongue and if it weren’t nearing five o’clock in the morning you’d spend all the time in the world right here.

But because it is nearing five o’clock you spend maybe ten minutes between Natasha’s legs, licking into her leaking hole until she tenses and trembles and spills onto your tongue. By the time you wipe your mouth on the sheets and crawl up to her side she’s barely awake, but, “Thanks,” she mumbles, draping an arm across your middle and leaving a lingering kiss on your shoulder. “For not shutting me out.”

Natasha falls asleep tucked up against your side and by the time she’s snoring softly against your shoulder you’ve decided that, whatever the circumstances, whatever the mission, having someone tag along to babysit you isn’t the worst thing in the world at all when that person is Natasha.

It wasn't often that you got anonymous letters sent to you by someone looking for your "services". You had left the spy life years ago with a little help from the Witness Protection Program in order to pursue a much quieter life doing...well currently you were just working as a florist. Before that you cleaned headstones at the towns local graveyard, which was scarily a lot bigger than the town you were in. You had quit that job when you got the first anonymous letter on the steps of the shed where you kept your tools. The thought of someone knowing where you worked, hell, who you were, especially when they shouldn't spooked you more than working in the graveyard around sunset.

The request wasn't for anything serious. A simple adult-napping job of some woman. The stranger who left the note definitely specified that they wanted the target alive. It would have been an easy job with some extra cash to put in your pocket, but instead you jumped ship and quit that day and moved to another apartment complex. You even went so far as to get a P.O. Box instead of using the complex's mail. The threat wasn't that big to get the government involved in relocating you again.

You almost you wish you could go back in time to the early morning before you received the letter by some covered stranger. Your skin turned white when you saw the simple little envelope with your old agent code name; Viper.

Sneaky and deadly, you always knew the perfect moment to strike. Whoever this person was had to have also been an old agent from the same organization you worked for. That was the only way you could explain away the anxiety that boiled in the pit of your stomach. Once was an instance, but twice is a hobby, you decide you'll at least think about taking the job. Opening the envelope, your heart started to pound quickly inside its cage. You can't believe you were about to put yourself in this position after leaving it for so long.

The letter read:

Dear Viper;

It has been many years since the last time I've seen your face, the first time I thought you were a ghost. Certainly after seeing your face again, I knew for sure my mind wasn't fooling me. It is with a heavy heart that I ask for your help. Unfortunately a family member of mine had found themselves in trouble with a mafia member. Unable to keep their end of whatever bargain, the mob killed him. I need you to find the person who did this to my brother and bring them to me completely unharmed. I want them conscious, I want my face to be the last ting they see before I get revenge for a member of my family ceasing to live among those that loved them.

The target's name is Natasha Romanoff. At the bottom I've left a burner number and an address if you do decide to take my offer this time, the payment will be handsomely.

Much Thanks;

Otter

Natasha Romanoff? Sounds mafia enough to you. Gods, what a messed up situation to get into. Would it really be enough to possibly have to change your identity again? What if this person was important to this group and they decided to come after you? You sat in silence thinking for a long time if any of this was really worth it. There was a tiny voice that peeped up in the back of your mind. You had been kinda bored lately, this could be the spice you need to add back an old pep in your step.

It was decided. You'll get to work searching for this person in the morning. Wow, that took so much persuasion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You got started early the next day. Definitely not due to not being able to sleep in the first place. Oh no. Thanks to the nerves building up over putting yourself in a shitty position. Luckily for you though, this Natasha woman wasn't hard to find at all. The mafia she was affiliated with, operated in the city near the town you lived in. They also apparently seemed to operate most of their business out of a simple pet shop. This has to be the inner workings of a screen writer, you thought to yourself.

Your nerves began to get the best of you on your walk back home. It seemed like everyone's eyes were suddenly on you, like they knew exactly what you were up to. You picked up your speed and released a breath you didn't realize you were holding when you saw the steps to your apartment complex. You quickly ran inside up to your floor and slammed the door behind you. Gosh your nerves were starting to annoy you. How did you ever make it as a top agent is beyond you thinking of the position you were currently in. All feelings aside, you pressured n to pack for the trip you'll soon be taking to the city. It was going to be another long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your trip to the city was surprisingly smooth. Light traffic. Sun was out. If not for this little mission, if you could call it that, the day would have been perfect to do some sight seeing. You found the "pet shop" just as easy as well. You set up camp on the side of the street in front of the building to see if your target would possibly show up today. You were really hoping this didn't turn into a multi-day stake out. just wanting to get all of this over as quickly as possible so you can go back into hiding again.

It took about 7 hours, well into the late afternoon, before you spotted her walk in. Surprisingly, she was alone. Perfect, time to move in. You got out of your car and casually walked around the side of the business to see if there happened to be a door. The alleyway of the building was dark enough that anyone on the street wouldn't be able to see in. The sound of a creaky metal door could be heard just around the corner. You guess the back will have to do. As you got closer to the sound, you saw the woman in the back of the building talking with a man. You couldn't make out a single word they were saying. Their conversation wasn't important though, only getting her to Otter was.

Your heart began to race as the moment to make your move came closer. This is what you had trained for your whole life. The stealth and ability to make a move without anyone around you knowing until it was too late. Your eyes trained on the red-head in the back of the building. You gave a silent prayer to whoever was listening that the person she was with, would leave her alone for just one second. That's all you needed; one second.

Suddenly, it was as if all of the puzzle pieces fell into place. He left to go back inside. Time slowed down in an instant. You immediately released a breath through your mouth and moved in. You could see every single moment, all of the steps you took right up to behind her. Watching her turn around carefully but never hearing you step up behind her. At the very last second when she had finally caught sight, one hand reached but to grab her arm and pin it behind her back while the other reached around her head with a chloroform rag to incapacitate her.

The hard part was done. The red-haired woman fell limp in your arms, so you maneuvered her into a bridal position to easily carry her to your car. Time was of the essence. Someone would be coming to look for her soon. Swiftly and quietly, you walked back through the alley and reached your car. Knowing you had some time before she woke up, you could stop later to tie her hands and legs once you were farther away from the city. You placed her down in the back seat before getting in the front and driving away. You let out the most dramatic exhale and looked for the letter Otter had given you of his number and location.

One ring

Two rings

So you did take my offer?

Yes, I'm headed to the location now.

Excellent, thank you for your work.

Yeah, whatever.

Click

You drove on for another half an hour before you reached the location. It was an old abandoned warehouse settled 20 minutes in the opposite direction from the city. The sun was completely settled at this point making the surroundings very dark. The sky had an almost purple glow from the towns nearby lights. Getting out, you circled the car to the back passenger door to remove the woman and bring her inside. She was still passed out from the chloroform only stirring slightly as you picked her up.

Maybe it was the exhaustion catching up to you, but you don't remember her being this heavy. Trudging the knocked out woman inside, you found a small chair and placed her down. Your timing was sort of off and thought better to tie down her hands and legs now before checking her pockets for any weapons or forms of identification. The woman's head lulled from left to right while you searched. You found a knife on her belt holster, a small revolver tucked in the back of her pants, a wallet, and a set of keys but not car keys. Her eyes started to flutter while you fingered through the wallet. Nothing important, a drivers license, a couple of business cards from the "pet store", and a what looked like a family photo. The people in the photo looked familiar to you, very familiar.

"What are you doing with that?" The woman mumbled in your direction. You looked her in the eye not saying anything. The woman was gorgeous with the single light shining down on her causing an angelic glow upon the crown of her head. Her red tresses seemed to almost burn in your presence. You looked away from her and continued to inspect the photo she kept in her wallet.

"Who are these people with you?"

Her head lulled once more, "Why do you want to know?"

"Answering a question with a question won't help you. What is your affiliation with the mafia?"

"I'm their fucking boss."

In that instance your eyes widened. Of course, that's why the men in the photo looked familiar to you. She was the fucking heir to one of the top mafia rings in the country. This idiot, Otter, wanted you to bring in the living heir and current head hancho for what she did to a simple family member that got caught up in the wrong group. The sweat was beginning to pour now that you realized you were absolutely fucked.

Before you could say anything else, Otter, the man of the hour, busted trough the doors.

"Viper! I knew I could count on you!"

"What the fuck man?! You really had me capture the fucking mafia BOSS?! We're both going to be fucked if you don't explain everything right now, Otter." You were sweating rivers at this point. Utterly frustrated and hot in the warehouse. The red-head was slowly coming to 100% but her eyes still couldn't fully focus.

"Calm down Viper. Your work is done with me. I'll cover everything up and you can go back to your quiet life."

"Over?! If you don't give me a very good reason to leave her here in your possession, I'm taking her with me." you were shouting at this point. The red-head was now staring at the both of you dumbfounded at the whole situation everyone was in.

"She killed my brother!" You swore you could see steam coming off of his head. "She killed him and left him to rot!"

"Your brother was nothing but scum who tried to steal weapons from me to sell for himself." She had responded this time. Otter quickly pulled out a gun from his pocket and aimed it at the woman.

"He would never have done anything to harm his family or himself!"

She didn't falter her glare one single bit, even with a weapon pointed at her head. "He'd be living a healthy fulfilling life had he not crossed me."

He cocked the gun this time. "Shut up you stupid bitch!"

A smirk played on her lips, she was enjoying getting a rise out of him. Like she knew something the both of you didn't know. Like she knew no matter her outcome someone would always be out there searching for both of you for the rest of your lives until you got caught, or god forbid, kill yourselves to keep from being caught. Your nerves were spiking again, you couldn't let Otter kill Natasha Romanoff.

You sucked a quick gasp. Otter didn't notice but Natasha did. You had her gun.

Natasha's eyes darted back and forth between you and Otter. He was getting upset at the fact that her attention wasn't solely on him. The arm that was holding the gun stopped its falter and held up straight to Natasha's face. "Look at me! I want my face to be the last thing you see when I kill you, you stu-"

BANG

Natasha jumped. She had seen the whole thing take place but didn't really expect you to do it. She could see the tremble in in your hands as they stayed in the same spot. Your eyes were wide, lip quivering, you couldn't believe what you had done and now you had a new problem to cover up. Natasha had a look of empathy in her eyes. You didn't want to be in this position from the get go and it had only gotten worse for you.

"Hey, look at me..." Natasha spoke up softly to break your trance. She had leaned her body towards you in a manner to reach out. "You can put the gun down, its going to be okay now." Your eyes darted down to the gun and back up to Natasha's green eyes. Still shaking you slowly lowered the gun to the ground before you walked over to her cautiously. Tears were falling down your face, the weight of the situation was hitting you. If you had never agreed to Otter's request, you would be cozied up in your bed, awaiting another new day.

Your fingers found Natasha's bound wrists. her skin was surprisingly cool to the touch. She stared at your face the whole time you unwrapped her from the chair. The fresh tears leaving clear trails down your slightly dirtied cheeks. The slight glow of your e/c eyes under the florescent lights of the warehouse. You knelt down in front of her to then remove the binding on her ankles. Something within her compelled her to reach out to you. Without even realizing it, the red-heads palm was already resting on your head. She reveled in the silky smooth feel of your h/c locks. The slight dampness from the sweat that had overcome your skin. She could feel the softness of your fingers slowly circling around her last ankle when your sad eyes looked up to hers.

"How did you manage to capture me without anyone seeing you?" Her hand slipped down to your cheek. "In all of my years, I have not once not heard someone creep up behind me the way you did."

The steady stream of tears grew heavier, your quiet life was about to be destroyed by your own need for a change. She would certainly have your feet for getting a one up on her.

"It was my job. I was known for being so light on my toes, no one could hear me coming." your voice wavered, but the words got out.

"Well I could use someone like you by my side." Natasha held out her hand to you as she got up on her feet. Not really having her ground, she nearly fell when you caught her by the waist. The two of you held your breath as you both stared deeply into each others eyes. You could swear if you inhaled, her scent would be enough to drive you mad. "My guys will cover all of this up for you."

You sat and thought about everything she said. The would would probably prove more exciting than working at a flower shop and probably be more fruitful. You smiled at her. You could feel her warm breath near your lips.

Everybody Talks - Part One

It was especially cold for spring, but you didn't have time to complain, because you were too excited to get on the field.

You softly hummed a song from your favorite muggle band as you finished putting on your Quidditch boots, your broom resting beside you on the bench.

"Feeling anxious, Y/N?" The voice of your teammate, and Gryffindor team chaser, Pietro echoed in the locker room as he approached you, already fully dressed in his game uniform. You raised your head to smile at him.

"I only get anxious about winning, Pietro." You retorted confidently, making him laugh softly. You stood up as you grabbed your broom, and the team captain, Thor Odinson, waved for everyone to hurry to try out.

In the entrance area of the field, Pietro stood off to the side, and you were fixing your gloves when he gently bumped his shoulder into yours.

"Care to place a bet?" He asked, causing you to raise your eyebrow.

"What kind of bet?"

"Come on, we're playing against Slytherin." He says as if the reason for his proposal is obvious. "I bet I score more points than you do."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "You wish."

Pietro grimaces in false offense, then holds out his hand.

"First one to get five hits wins." He proposes, and you smile before shaking your hand.

"What's the prize?" You ask, already watching the Okoye coach walk onto the grass to announce the game. Pietro stands thoughtfully for a moment.

"If I win, you call Romanoff to the dance." He declares and you almost drop the broom on the ground, looking at Pietro with wide eyes. He just laughs, but just as you are about to complain about it, the whistle for the team to enter the field sounds, and Thor is pushing you to walk.

During the game, you need to push your thoughts about your longtime crush on your friend, Natasha Romanoff, but it's not that easy, especially since she's in the bleachers, and despite being from the Slytherin house, she's also carrying a Gryffindor flag, cheering you on.

Your history with Nat was a bit complicated.

You weren't exactly friends in your first two years at Hogwarts, because she came from a pureblood family that hated muggleborns, and Nat just repeated the offenses she learned at home to you for a while.

But then you became partners in potions in third year, and over the course of the months, being forced to work together, you discovered that Natasha was actually quite an amazing girl to say the least. The friendship between you blossomed, and as Nat learned to reject the prejudiced teachings of her parents, you fell in love with her.

It was a secret you had been carrying around for a long time, but contrary to what you thought, it was not really a secret at all.

Pietro had been your friend since the third grade, when you joined the Quidditch team together and clicked immediately. And it took him only two weeks to realize that you had a crush on Nat, but he never said anything beyond gentle teasing.

It was an ironic coincidence that Pietro's twin sister Wanda was Nat's best friend as well. Which made you all hang out together like, what Defense Against the Dark Art professor Stephen Strange called "a group of misfits." affectionately.

You were too caught up in your thoughts, and Pietro took advantage of the bet, smiling smugly at you as he scored the second goal.

You took a deep breath, deciding to focus on the game. No way you would let him win.

The problem was that playing with Slytherin was always difficult. The competition felt more meaningful, and by the third time you had to dodge a bludger, you barely remembered the bet, really focusing on not falling off your broom while trying to score.

And then with almost two and a half hours of play, the golden snitch was caught.

You joined your classmates in celebration, laughing and hugging everyone as the Gryffindor crowd let off fireworks, the red lion circling in the sky, roaring loudly.

Someone shouted "Party in the communal hall" and you were being dragged through the crowd back to the castle, feeling so happy that you didn't even remember that Pietro had won the bet.

Back in the communal hall, drinks were distributed, and you giggled at the bottles of Firewhisky that were smuggled in by your seventh year classmates.

"I hope there are no snitches here." Pietro commented beside you, looking around at the crowd of students that was inside the Gryffindor communal hall now, several people from other houses joining the party. Pietro took a long sip of his drink, making a face that made you laugh.

"Merlin, I think Thor is going to make a speech." You then comment as you notice the boy in the center, raising his arms wide, and already looking slightly drunk. You wonder if he had been drinking since Quiddicht's field.

"Friends and Colleagues of Hogwarts!" Thor called out contentedly, and the crowd gradually quietened to look at him. "Let's have a toast for this victory! But first, let's dedicate this year's cup to the stars of the game, come here my friends!"

And then you, Pietro and Sam Wilson, the Gryffindor seeker, were being pushed to the center, until you’re all each up in a chair for the people to see you clearly and you laughed awkwardly at the crowd who were whistling and celebrating loudly.

A Ravenclaw boy started singing a cheer tune saying "Gryffindor kicks ass," and it didn't take long for the whole crowd to join in.

You met Natasha's gaze next, standing a few feet away from you in the corner of the room, feeling your heart miss a beat by the way she was looking at you.

"This is your chance." Pietro whispered in your ear, needlessly since through the noise of the party no one would hear him anyway. You swallowed dryly, slumping down from your chair as Sam and Pietro continued to vibrate, and you mentally rehearsed the words to invite Natasha.

You didn't take a step before someone stopped you, a gentle tug on your forearm, and you barely had time to turn your face to ask what it was, recognizing Wanda's green orbs before she kissed you.

You gasped in surprise, and the crowd erupted in loud whistles and celebrations, and you thought someone let off a firework inside the room, but all you could notice was Wanda.

Her soft lips against yours, and then her tongue on yours, making you sigh. You tasted the alcohol too, and then she broke the kiss and you blinked confused and affected trying to locate yourself.

"I've wanted to do that for so long." She counters with red cheeks, her lips puffy. She looks beautiful, and you are in shock.

"I-I..." You try to formulate a coherent sentence, and suddenly it becomes conscious over the audience, and you clear your throat, nodding for Wanda to follow you out of the hall.

As soon as you are in the corridor, she pushes you against a wall, kissing you again and making you sigh.

But you break the kiss , your hands on Wanda's waist to push her away.

"I'm sorry, Wanda." You say taking a deep breath. "I don't..."

And Wanda takes a step back as if she had been slapped, her expression dropping immediately.

"No! I'm sorry!" She interrupts, "I shouldn't. Damn, I'm so sorry."

And then she is running away and you call out to her, but she doesn't turn around.

You press your face against your hands, trying to understand how exactly everything escalated so quickly like that.

You completely lose the will to party, and as you return to the communal hall, you dodge your classmates' attempts to pull you into the games by going straight to your room.

It's not easy to sleep with the tingling sensation on your lips, and the complete mess your head is in, but you try anyway.

//-//-//-////-//-//-////-//-//-//

You're not surprised at the speed with which gossip spreads at Hogwarts.

It's your senior year, you're used to it. It doesn't mean you're not bothered by the insinuating whistles in the corridors when you leave the communal hall for breakfast, deciding to ignore them and the comments about Wanda kissing you in front of everyone.

You make your way straight to the Gryffindor table, and almost knock over your cereal when a flash of camera light hits your eyes.

"Good morning, superstar!" You greet Peter Parker cheerfully, putting the camera down. You blink a few times.

"Good morning, Peter, may I ask why the photo?" you say, then go back to eating. Peter was a Hufflepuff kid, he was in sixth grade, and he was the school photographer.

"The yearbook, dammit!" He says as if it's obvious. "I need pictures of the graduates, and I thought I'd better take them before you guys are busy with your NEWTS."

You mutter in displeasure at the mention of Hogwarts final exams, and Peter gives a chuckle.

"Why are you taking a picture of me eating breakfast?" you ask curiously before putting a spoonful of cereal in your mouth. Peter checks his camera as he answers.

"I wanted to photograph the moments of the daily routine first." He explains. "Things you guys will miss."

"Owt." You comment making him smile.

"I took some amazing pictures yesterday of the game too." He counters sitting down on the bench in front of you, and you giggle at how comfortable he quickly becomes at your house table. "Did you get any of Sam catching the snitch?" you ask and Peter is already fiddling with the camera quickly, handing it to you.

You smile at the pictures he has taken, and comment on how amazing the ones of the game are. And then there is the picture from last night's party, the moment you are standing in the crowd, laughing, and you stop smiling because you think about what happened next.

Handing the camera back to Peter, you try to follow the conversation, but your mind is elsewhere.

You are forced to focus on his words again, because he is talking about Wanda.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" You ask confused, and he smiles.

"I asked if you and Wanda want me to take pictures of you before the prom." He clarifies, and you widen your eyes slightly.

"Wait, what?" you exclaim. "Prom? Why do you think I'm going with Wanda?"

"You guys aren't dating?"

You let out an incredulous laugh. "What? No!" you clarify quickly. "We're not...where did that come from?"

Peter looks at you with confusion. "She kissed you in front of everyone. I thought..."

"You thought wrong." You interrupt uncomfortably, feeling your heart race. "I don't want to have this conversation during breakfast." You mutter as you stand up quickly, feeling the room getting too small. Peter apologizes half confused, but you are already leaving the hall.

You head back to the Gryffindor communal hall to shower and put on your uniform before your first class, but you bump into Pietro coming out of the boys' dormitory.

"Hey, I want to talk to you." He says as soon as he notices you, and you sigh softly, stopping walking. Pietro signals to the corner of the room, and leans on the window opening as you approach.

"What is it?" you ask with your hands in your pockets, already imagining exactly what the conversation was about.

"Wanda." He says and you sigh. "Don't hurt her."

"Really?" You retort incredulously. "Your sister kissed me, Pietro. Not the other way around. I had no idea she liked me."

"Maybe she doesn't." He then reasons, keeping his voice low because the students are coming down for breakfast. "She never said anything to me. And everyone was drinking at the party yesterday. You're friends, and I don't know, you're pretty, maybe she saw you on top of the chair in all your glory and got carried away."

You take a hand out of your pocket to massage your temples gently.

"Honestly, this is a mess." You grumble. "I didn't even get to talk to her before she ran off."

"You'll get your chance to talk in a few, we have potions with Slytherin in the first period." He retorts and you groan in dissatisfaction.

"I thought I could just ignore it all until things work themselves out." You say making him laugh, and Pietro pushes your shoulder gently.

"Don't think I forgot about the bet." He says next. "Clear things up with Wanda, and then invite Nat to the dance. I can't stand your puppy dog eyes any longer."

"Shut up, I don't have that." You mutter but Pietro only laughs, walking away probably to go get coffee in the communal hall.

You tell him you will meet him after you get ready.

//-//-//-//-//

You were swinging your leg on the stool, sitting at your desk at the back of potions class.

Pietro accompanied you and you were one of the first to arrive in the room, but it didn't take long for the other students to enter.

He shook his head gently in amusement at your nervousness, noticing that you were staring at the door, but said nothing. You held your breath as Natasha and Wanda entered together, engaged in conversation.

You don't know exactly what you expected as a reaction, but you were relieved to know that Wanda didn't treat you any differently.

She wished you good morning with a smile, taking the seat next to Pietro, while Nat sat down next to yours, also greeting you politely.

You were trying to think of exactly how to broach the subject about the party, when Pietro spoke up:

"Yesterday was incredible don't you guys think?" He says loud enough for only the four of you to hear. "I think some of us had more fun than others."

You widen your eyes, kicking him under the table, but Pietro continues to smile, while Wanda clears her throat and Nat looks toward Professor Banner, who is entering the room and closing the door.

"Good morning everyone, let's get started, we have to practice before the final exams." Declares the professor already taking out his wand so that the potions ingredients float to the benches.

Since May was the last month before the exams, you were reviewing previous years contents in most of your classes.

So you weren't surprised that Professor Banner asked you to try the Amortentia potion in class that day, ignoring Pietro's teasing remark about it being a lovely coincidence.

Since the third year, you and Nat have worked together on potions. So you frowned when she joined Wanda, without giving you any satisfaction.

Deciding that perhaps it was just a harmless action, you took out your potions books, and worked with Pietro.

Throughout the class, as Professor Banner circulated the tables to make sure that everyone was preparing their potions correctly, you began to feel slightly dizzy with the familiar scent coming from the cauldrons.

Amortentia, also known as the most powerful love potion in existence, has a distinctive smell for each wizard.

In sixth grade, when you first brewed it, you almost knocked over the cauldron when you finished because you could smell Natasha's perfume and assumed that everyone else could too, and as you rushed to cover the mixture, you almost knocked it over. Pietro mocked you for two weeks.

"Try lowering the fire a little more, Miss Romanoff." Professor Banner warned as he passed by your countertop, Nat's mixture slightly less transparent than it should be. You would have noticed this if you had been working with her.

When you stirred the mixture in your cauldron with the spoon, you can't help but smile softly as you recognized the smells that attracted you. Making Amortentia was relaxing to say the least.

"Do you think we'll have the same incident as last year?" Pietro comments beside you, stirring his cauldron as well.

You laugh softly, remembering. Last year, as soon as the potions were ready, Peter Quill from your house pulled a prank on the school, dripping potion on the coffee muffins. It was a tremendous mess, but fortunately you never got to eat any of them until everything was sorted out.

"Merlin, I hope not." You reply, turning your attention away from the potion to Pietro. "I have enough trouble with love already." You comment softly, causing them to laugh.

Natasha and Wanda look at the two of you with curiosity.

"You guys are full of secrets today heh?" Nat accuses in a wry tone, and you ignore the way your stomach flips with nervousness at having her talk to you.

You were about to let the subject die, but Pietro is speaking again, "We're talking about the prom, Nat. Any plans yet?"

You widen your eyes, resisting the urge to shove Pietro's face into the cauldron in front of him, while pretending to be paying attention to your mix when all you notice is the way Nat giggles, looking at Wanda a moment before looking at Pietro again.

"Actually, I do." She says and you raise your eyes immediately, feeling your stomach sink. "I'll take Wanda."

You drop the spoon hard and hot potion runs into your fingers, causing you to grunt in pain, and attracting the attention of your friends, and also your professor.

After assuring them that you are fine, there is an awkward silence at the table. But you are too curious to care:

"I didn't know you were going together." You comment casually, glancing momentarily at Wanda, who has flushed cheeks but keeps her face close to the fire, and you assume that's exactly why. Nat touches the pages of the potions book gently.

"I asked her." Nat declares and you swallow dryly, pushing all the conflicting feelings down. "That day in Hogsmeade."

"Oh, got it." You mutter, too uncomfortable to prolong the subject.

"That day in Hogsmeade" was about the retrograde weekend where you almost confessed your feelings to Natasha after drinking too much fire whiskey. You were all at the Three Broomsticks, playing explosive snap and telling jokes. And there was this moment where you and Nat went to the bathroom at the same time, and you just looked at her on the way out, feeling dizzy and probably looking stupid. And she looked back, and you thought for a moment that you would kiss. But someone bumped into you, the moment was over. When Nat went to walk away, you held her hand, but lost the courage to confess. And when you came back to the table, she sat far away, and you were too drunk to think about it.

The same silence as before returns, even more tense. You don't speak anymore, though, and when the class is over, and the professor releases everyone after saying that you all would continue the potion preparation in the next class, you practically run out of the dungeons.

Pietro catches up with you already at the door to the Charms classroom.

"Hey, I'm sorry." He says as soon as he arrives, "I had no idea."

"It's okay, Peete." You lie, entering the room with him at your side, and taking the place of one of the chairs at the back. "This has nothing to do with you anyway."

Pietro seems unsure about what to say to make you feel better, and honestly you have no way to help him. You don't understand why Wanda kissed you, much less why Natasha asked her to the prom. And even though you try to pay attention to the lessons, that's basically all you can think about for the next few hours.

//-//-//-//

After lunch, you have Herbology with Ravenclaw.

Unlike Potions, you’re late for this class. Mainly because you’re very distracted with your thoughts and Pietro was busy with wizard chess and lost track of the time as well.

So you two strumble inside the greenhouses a minute after professor Mantis, who gave you a warning look but said nothing as you and Pietro quickly moved to your seats, ignoring the giggles from your classmates.

For the next few minutes, you heard about magical plants that could grow without air and water, but you couldn’t care less.

Then Professor Mantis asked the class to go outside to take care of the Irritable Roots that were big enough to cut, and could be used for potions, and you busy yourself with that.

You’re too distracted with the dirt to notice Pietro moving aside and leaving you alone, and was pretty surprised that your house mate, Carol Danvers, knee down next to you, with a flower that looked like the ones the sixth years were helping grow for the semester.

“This is for you.” She said with a smile, and you blushed hard in both shock and embarrassed, as you mutter a shy thanks, but Carol just kept looking at you with adoration in her gaze. "I wanted to ask you a question."

"Then ask it." You mumble clumsily, deciding to ignore the soft hiss of your fellow Thor, who has noticed the interaction.

"Do you want to go to the dance with me?" She asks still appraising you and you find it too incredible a conciencidence to be true.

"You know, you didn't need the flower in the middle of class for that." You joke making her laugh softly. You swallow dryly before nodding. "I'd love to, Carol."

She smiles, reaching up to take the flower and place it behind your ear, and you smile shyly back, more embarrassed by the attention than anything else.

"I'll pick you up at the door to the communal hall." She says before getting up to go back to her own table.

You barely have time to understand what happened before Pietro is back, holding back a laugh.

"I can't believe you're going to the ball with Carol Danvers." He comments low to you and you ignore the prying eyes to return to your lesson.

"Don't look at me like that, I lost my match." You grumble. "And by the way, the ball is just a dance. I have a right to have fun."

"But with your crush's ex-girlfriend?" Pietro teases and you mumble softly, making him laugh. "Look, Y/N, I love you, but there's not the slightest possibility of this ending well. The least that will happen is an argument, so just remember to call me, I want to record if you get punched."

"Pietro, shut up." You retort annoyed, but he laughs before returning to the lesson.

As you work, you think about the mess you got yourself into. Carol Danvers was in the same grade as you, and in fourth and fifth year, she and Natasha had some sort of romance. You kept your distance while this was going on, which was the period when you were closest to Wanda. When they broke up, whatever was going on, there was tension there, even though everyone treated each other cordially. And now you were going to the ball with Carol.

It didn't have to mean anything if you didn't want to. And that's what you kept repeating to yourself for the rest of the day.

With classes over, you still had a few hours free before dinner, and as you usually did, you joined Pietro on the outside patio, and he was already talking to Wanda.

"You're in trouble." Pietro announced as soon as you reached them, causing you to frown. But you looked in the direction he was looking, and held your breath as you saw Natasha talking to Carol.

"Mind your own business, Pietro." Wanda complained to her brother, but you were really concerned by the way the other girls' conversation seemed on the edge of what could be considered friendly.

And then Carol noticed you looking, and gave you a wink, and you wanted to dig a hole in the ground. Nat said something and turned in the direction where you were standing, her face impassive, but her eyes almost furious.

"Hey, Nat." You greeted clumsily, and swallowed dryly at the way she looked at you.

"Really, Y/N? Carol? Didn't you have someone worse to go with?" She accuses angrily, and you let out an impatient sigh.

"It's just a dance." You grumble. "It's not like we're going to date."

Nat squeezes her eyes shut. "Ah, be sure of that." She says and you raise your eyebrow, but Nat hastens to add. "There's a code of ethics for that. You can't date your friends' exes."

You frown, but Pietro laughs.

"Damn, I think I've broken that rule too many times." He jokes but Wanda rolls her eyes.

"You say a lot for a virgin." She comments and that makes you laugh, while Pietro hums softly. Wanda also looks tense, as much as you and Nat. "We heard she invited you in Herbology class. The whole school talked about it."

"She got a flower and everything." Pietro mocked poking you in the ribs with his elbow, but the comment only seemed to irritate Natasha more, who crossed her arms and sighed, glancing briefly at Carol.

You swallowed dryly, and worked up the courage to ask.

"You don't like her anymore, do you?" The words made Nat's eyes widen slightly and he frowned. "It's just that you seem bothered and..."

"I'm bothered because my friend is going to the prom with my ex-girlfriend." She interrupts with indignation, causing you to shut up. "It's weird to say at least, and I wanted to check with Carol to see if what I heard was true, but she just kept making stupid comments about how ironic it would be if she happened to date you!"

You blink in surprise at this information. "Date me? It's just a dance, Nat. I'm not dating anyone."

"I guess you better let her know that then, because she seems to have high expectations of sleeping with you after the party!"

You frown. "You don't know that." You grumble. "And even if you were right, I'm single. I can sleep with whoever I want.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She retorts angrily. "You really think it's cool to have sex with my ex-girlfriend?"

You sigh impatiently. "I'm not having sex with anyone, I'm just saying that if I want to, I can, and it's none of your business. So stop being jealous and yelling at me because I haven't done anything wrong."

Nat lets out an incredulous laugh at your words. "Jealous? I don't give a shit about who you date, do whatever you want."

You want to pretend that Nat's words don't hurt you, but you can't. The tears fill your eyes as fast and your heart beats, but you don’t cry. You just give Nat a sad smile and tell everyone you’re tired before leaving.

//-//-//-//-//

You’re thin ice with Natasha.

Arguing is better than silence, and you know how much she hates it, so you ignore her.

You’re not even sure about what you’re angry about. Maybe because she didn’t feel the same about you? Maybe you’re just mad about the way she spoke to you.

Nevertheless, you two are not talking. She tried to approach you over the next few days, making casual comments and even mentions of her family' expectations for the end of the year, but while Wanda and Pietro actively participated in the topics, you just listened. And Nat noticed, and oh how she hated it.

You could practically feel the tension growing between you, but if she didn't apologize, you wouldn't do it either.

And with the prom approaching, things seemed to get worse.

You were just about to give up, when everything got even more messy.

The day before the prom, you went out to the great lake with Pietro and your teammates, deciding to practice a little friendly flying. Soon many other students were joining in, and it all turned into an open-air picnic.

At one point, Sam tried to teach you how to catch the golden snitch and after many attempts, you succeeded, but ended up diving into the lake in the process.

Soaking wet, you were in the middle of laughing when someone threw a towel over your shoulders.

You smiled in appreciation at Carol, but she didn't move away, her hands on the towel as she looked at you with eyes gleaming with mischief.

"I'd like to get you wet like this." She spoke not so low, causing you to gasp. Sam burst out laughing, but what you noticed beyond your embarrassment was Natasha looking at the blonde as if she was going to murder her at any moment.

"Really, Danvers? You have some class." You were surprised at Wanda's bitter tone, in fact, you were surprised that she was talking to Carol at all, having stayed neutral to this fight so far.

The blonde giggled, turning her face in the other girl's direction.

"Why don't you mind your own business, Maximoff?"

Carol retorted sarcastically, causing you to frown. Before you could defend Wanda however, Nat was already getting up.

"Watch your tone, Danvers." She warned angrily, pointing a finger at Carol, who just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "In fact, watch how you talk to both of my girls."

You bite your lip. Okay, you are pissed off. But angry Natasha is hot. Calling you her girl is even hotter.

Carol gives a wry laugh. "You always were so possessive, Natty." The blonde comments with a wry smile, "I'm just joking, no need to get angry. And remember, if you want to boss around, get a ring."

Nat locks her jaw at the innuendo, but Carol just waves goodbye to you before walking away to join her group of friends.

And then Wanda is approaching you with a wand in hand, and in a simple spell, she dries your clothes completely.

You smile in appreciation, slightly affected by the way Wanda's eyes look bright at close range before she walks away.

"So, is anyone hungry?" Pietro asks aloud trying to lighten the mood, and you mentally thank him for it.

But Natasha shakes her head, and then assumes a neutral expression again.

"Actually I'm tired, I'll see you guys later at the castle." She announces, and turns to leave. You exchange a glance with Pietro, and he quickly brings up something with Wanda.

You hurry to catch up with Natasha, stopping her just before the castle entrance.

"I'm worried, Nat." You say as soon as she turns to look at you. "I'm worried about us."

She forces a smile. "Don't be. Carol gets on my nerves, but when this dance is over, I won't be angry anymore and we'll be friends again."

You swallow dryly.

"What if I don't want to?" You say and she frowns in confusion. You don't hesitate. "What if I don't want to be just your friend?"

Natasha looks away from your gaze, and you feel your heart shatter.

"Don't do this." She asks softly, and you ignore the urge to cry.

"I have to." You insist by taking a step forward, and Nat takes a deep breath. "I can't hide it anymore. I'm in love-"

"No." She interrupts by placing her hands on your cheeks. "Please don't. You don't know what you're saying."

You sigh, letting the tears flow. "I don't need you to say it back, I just need to say it once."

"I don't want you to say anything, because you don't understand what it means to me." She insists in a whiny voice, and you look at her with confusion. Nat takes a deep breath, lowering her hands to put them in her pockets. "You know what my family is like. You know how my father is. He wouldn't...I could never be with a muggleborn."

You take a step back, shocked by the statement.

"B-but what does that have to do with anything?" You ask confused. "Your father doesn't need to know and..."

Nat gives a wry laugh, quickly wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. "You may be a muggleborn, but you know very well how things work in our world. How long before someone finds out and tells him? How long before he forbids me to see my sister? I can't risk it. I didn't risk it with Carol."

You widen your eyes at the statement, finally understanding why things didn't work out between them. Nat didn't choose Carol, she prioritized keeping their relationship a secret so that her father wouldn't forbid her to see her sister Yelena.

"Is that why you are with Wanda?" You accuse bitterly, causing Nat to assume an incredulous expression. "Because she's a pureblood?"

"I like Wanda." She retorts simply, and you bite the inside of her cheek, "And it's just a dance, we're not dating."

"Did you know she kissed me?"

Nat sighs impatiently. "Everyone knows."

"I was going to ask you to the dance that night." You insist by moving closer again, using your last drop of courage. "And I was going to kiss you if you said yes."

Nat puts a hand on your shoulder to stop you from moving any closer, but her gaze lingers on your mouth before returning to your eyes.

"We can't." She whispers seriously, and you swallow dryly.

"But do you want to?" you whisper back, moving your hand up to her palm extended over your shoulder. "Would you have said yes to me?"

Nat has a tearful expression, and bites her lips before pulling away from your touch. You feel your stomach sink.

"Natasha, answer me." You ask tearfully, but she just swallows dryly, looking away to the floor.

"I can't give you the answer you want." She says simply before turning away, walking out to enter the castle.

You stare at the concrete for many minutes, your tears wetting your shirt, before you decide to go inside too.

//-//-//-//-//-////-////-////-////-////-//

she makes a show of stripping off her suit jacket, hanging it over the back of the crimson love seat, before haphazardly dropping onto the cushion. spreading her long legs wide, your breath hitches at the way her beige pants tighten around her strong thighs, defining the shape of her taut muscles. everything about her demeanour is calm, casual in the way her fingers undo the first few buttons of her white shirt.

“why don’t you give each other a kiss for me?” the lilt in her tone covers her command as a suggestion. leaning back in her seat, placing her elbows on the armrests, you and pieck react quickly.

turning to face each other, the pink pout of pieck’s lips meet your own eagerly. with your hands on her waist, you pull her flush against you as her own small hand holds the back of your head. you can’t help but moan into her mouth as your tongues brush against each other sensually, hands roaming as pieck sucks on your tongue gently.

the dissatisfied tsk of yelena breaks the spell of your make out.

slightly dazed, you move back from pieck slightly. both of you wearing the same worried look. neither would you two ever want to displease your love.

“yelena…?” you whisper her name out, hesistant.

pieck follows your lead. “is this not what you want?”

“no.” the word alone sends a shiver down your spine. yelena leans back into the chair, stare hard and jaw tilted up. “i want to see those pretty pussies of yours kiss.”

the whimper that escapes pieck is unwillingly loud, coloured with need. your own is caught in your throat, the throbbing of your cunt taking over your mind and body.

a flurry of pets and whines has pieck laying on her back, inky locks spread over the pillow underneath her head, with her thighs parted invitingly. you’re enchanted by the juices leaking from her tight little hole, smeared across her inner thighs and the trimmed stripe of dark curls just above her clit. and when you reach out to brush along her slit, coating the pad of your thumb in her arousal, she’s quick to grab at your wrist.

“don’t tease, y/n.” pieck hisses, pleading eyes looking up at you. “please.”

yelena chuckles lowly from her seat, already enjoying the show. she always loved how desperate the two of would get. especially when things got vocal.

shaking pieck’s lithe fingers from your wrist, you shuffle closer to her; knees dipping into the mattress, as you hold on to her toned leg, sliding your own to the side of her hip - slotting yourself to straddle her almost sideways.

with no hesitation, you lower yourself against her testingly, enticing a harmony of your shared moans.

“f-fuck.” you gasp, throwing your head. pressed against her, the sensation of her warm, wet cunt against your own starts to fog your mind.

“y/n.” pieck’s whines are begging. “move, y/n…your pussy feels so good against mine.”

“listen to her, baby doll.” yelena pipes up, completely relaxed in her seat. “kiss your pussies together even more for me, won’t you?”

the praise from pieck and yelena’s words has you rolling your hips, gliding your pussy over her silky folds, gasping each time your clits catch on to each other’s. it’s extremely lewd, the sloppy sound of your cunts smushed together, slick mixing and dribbling down your thighs. the sensation has you completely intoxicated.

“mmm.” moaning loudly, you caress pieck’s leg in your hold. leaning in slightly to press a gentle kiss to her ankle, you smile against her skin, licking and grazing your teeth along the soft flesh.

“shit-“ she curses, arching into you more. grinding upwards to meet your thrusts.

you feel her hand reach out to touch you, grabbing onto your hips and digging her fingers into you bruisingly - urging you for more.

angling your head back slightly, mid-thrust, you catch a glimpse of yelena’s form. her nails carve crescent moon shapes into the armrest, tell-tale signs of her restraint to not surge towards her two lovers. no matter how much you and pieck would play with each other in front of her, yelena would never yield until the end.

and best of all, she never touched herself. pleasing her was a job left strictly for her precious dolls.

the way you kiss you and pieck’s pussies together in slow, meaningful strokes is dizzying. and it starts to become too much, too soon. with your swollen clit sliding against her mound, and with pieck’s pushed against your soppy slit, edging into the entrance of your tight hole; the two of you become a mess of mewls.

“hnn, y/n.” the way her angel lips moans your name is sinful. “baby please, wanna cum.”

your pants are louder, choking on your moans as you slide yourself over her cunt harder, faster; that you both can’t help but cry out as you reach your peaks.

“oh my, ah, f-fuck-!”

“‘m cumming, y/n, oh-!”

you still on top of pieck, tongue lolled and thighs tensed, your pussy clenching around nothing as you come undone. swearing you can feel the pulsing of pieck’s cunt in time with your own, she squirms underneath you in a fit of pleasure, eyes rolled back as she whines through her orgasm.

“fuck me.” yelena’s voice is muffled by the sound of your own racing heart; but the proud tone in her voice is all you need to turn and face her.

“w-were we…good for you?”

“so good, baby. so fucking perfect.”

sighing contently, you press your forehead to pieck’s leg still in your hold. smiling, your body felt amazing as if you were floating; you don’t even have time to react as pieck flips the two of you over with practiced ease.

“p-pieck-!”

flat on your back, pieck makes fast work pushing your knees against your chest; squeezing the fat of your thighs as she presses the side of her calves to your hips. with your own glistening pussy exposed, pieck saddles on the backs of your thighs, and when she rolls her hips, you jolt as your puffy clits rub against each other.

“fuck, yes-!”

you’re choking on your moans, mouth parted as gasps huff out and drool pools from the corner. you’re absolutely entranced by the way pieck’s full breasts bounce in your face, how her tummy rolls as she ruts into you.

a thin sheen of sweat lays over your heated skin. and when you find your voice, you’re calling out her name over and over like a prayer.

“pieck, pieck, pieck, pieck!”

she consumes every part of your being - yelena’s keen eyes watching blocked from your mind. you even miss the damp patch darkening the crotch of her beige pants.

pieck rocks against you hard, too fast for your sensitive cunt; your bodies tremble as the waves of your orgasm bubbling in your tummy threaten to burst at any moment. it’s when your throbbing clit draws against her dripping entrance once, twice, thrice that you fall apart completely.

your eyes widen, white stars dotting your vision, as your release squirts from your pulsating hole.

“ah, ah, haaa~”

despite the way your mouth jars open in a silent cry, pieck continues to jack rabbit hump your poor pussy. she pants heavy, dark locks stuck to her forehead until she reaches her own high - spraying her own cum all over you.

“ooh, fuck, yes…”

riding out your highs together, you’re lost in the overstimulation; incoherent harmonies of your babbles are the only sound heard in the room. when you finally break apart from each other, pieck falling back across from you, your body trembles from the after effects - your slick drooling from your twitching cunt.

the slow clapping pulls you and pieck from your post-orgasm daze, and through your half-lidded gaze, you watch as yelena stands from her seat and approaches you two.

“such good babies.” the tall woman praises, leaning over your spent bodies. “so messy too, hm?”

a long finger trails down your wet tummy, swirling the mixture of you and pieck’s cum, before moving down to dip into your pussy. the mutual gasp and keen shared between you and pieck, tells you that yelena is doing the same to her.

“i love watching my dolls kiss.” yelena’s finger slowly pumps in and out of you, chuckling lowly as you clamp around the digit desperately. “seeing your cunts kiss and cum all over each other, fuck, it drives me insane.”

hastily, yelena yanks her finger out of you and pieck; the two of you crying out at the lost of contact, blinking up at her.

“shut up.”

harsh silence invades the room. yelena smiles warmly at your obedience, before grabbing at you and pieck’s hands, bringing them to brush over her crotch and grip onto her leather belt.

“now, you’ll be my perfect dolls and make your owner feel good, won’t you?”

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“yes. it’s actually a perfect time to walk around” she tells you walking out the elevator. “a walk around central park at one a.m alone in new york” you said following he out of the elevator and out the building “yeah it’s definitely the perfect time” you said sarcastically.

“well why don’t you join me then” she suggested slowly walking backwards. You chuckle and nod “okay but nat central park is this way” you pointed to the opposite way she was going.

“right, sorry i forgot” she blushed from embarrassed and walked that direction. You follow her walking with her for about a couple minutes before you called her “nat”

“yes?” she glances at you as she continued walking. “the park closes at 1” you tell her, does she not know what time the park closes.

“i- “ she stops walking as did you and sighs “okay i lied” she says, you raise an eyebrow waiting for her to continue. “i moved here when i was eighteen and the only thing i’ve seen the entire time i’ve lived here is time square “

you looked at her shocked “wow” is all you say, you thought she was just lying about actually living there.“yeah” she looks down at the sidewalk.

“come on” you grab her hand and pulled her with you to her car you recognized when walking out. “where we going” Natasha asked following you unlocking her car.

“a place i always go to when i need to take a break from people” you tell her getting into the car. When she got in, you gave her directions on where to go. Once at the location, she gave you a questioning look and drove up to the top floor. Parking the car, you both got out and looked around. “why a parking garage?” she asked.

“you could see everything from here and it’s a little more safer then a building where you could easily slip off and die” you tell her staring out into the view. Natasha gives you a look and chuckles to herself. “besides in the morning it gives you the most beautiful view” you added.

“do you take everyone up here” Nat asked teasing you as she watched you get in the driver side plugging your phone in.

“yeah. this is also my go to spot to fuck girls, you know” you lied looking through your playlist before looking up at her seeing her unreadable face “i’m kidding” you say before picking a playlist, putting it on shuffle and getting out of the car “you’re the only one i’ve taken here, not even wanda’s been here” you tell her as the music played, it was loud enough to hear from the car but not too loud to hear from the next building.

“well now i feel special” Natasha smiles climbing onto the hook of her car, she pats the spot next to her and you climb up “you should” you say teasing.

There was silence between you two as you stared out into the sky, from the place you were at it was easy to see some of the star which you loved to watch. You looked at her, asking “where were you born at?” you watched as she tensed and quickly tried to change the subject “sorry you don’t-“

“it’s fine, i don’t mind” the redheads stops you laying her hand on your thigh “Russia. Stalingrad Russia” she starts “my birth mother had me at a young age and gave me up because she couldn’t afford me. At least that’s what the headmaster said” she continued looking up at the stars but you stared at her “No one adopted me, everyone wanted kids but when i became one suddenly everyone wanted babies so i would be sent to foster homes, than to the next and bounced around from each house. Which was horrible but i was thankful i ever got sent to an abusive home except for one, the husband slapped me for taking back once but that was nothing compared to the stories i heard about other home”tears welled in her eyes, threatening to fall “Eventually i got older and i was able to get a job wherever i was at, saved enough money for me to leave at eighteen” she clears her throat wiping the tears that escaped.

“so i guess we have similar childhoods huh” you joked trying to lightening the mood but it only gotten more tense “it sucks to have fucked up parents but to not know who they are is different. i mean i hate my parents but there was always these moments when they were normal.. they were sober, laughing with me, taking me to the gas station to get a slurpe, we would actually be a family but then they’ll remember that we used to be a family of four and they’ll drug themselves up to forget”

“you had a sibling?” Natasha looks at you and watches you carefully. “yeah, a brother. he was only two when he died, I was six. Our parents took us to New York” you gave a bigger smile and start telling the story “It was for my sixth birthday, i bugged them for weeks and weeks that i wanted to go. I fell in love with it when i saw the movie ‘Moonstruck’. From that moment, i knew i had to come here and not just to visit but to move here and live the rest of my life here” you explained before continuing “anyways, they brought us here to visit just for the day. It’s a two and half hour drive here and back.” taking a second to calm yourself from breaking down, you kept going “by the end of the day all of us were exhausted and uh my mom forget to buckle in my brother right”

“so when we were on the road, my mom was arguing with my dad saying it was too late to drive and we should get a hotel and leave in the morning..”tears rolled down your cheeks as your heart clenched at the memories “and the next thing i knew i was waking up in the hospital.. my parents and i weren’t injured that bad, just cuts and bruises but my brother.. he flew out of the car. i felt like it was my fault he died which according to them it was”

Natasha grabs your chin, turning you head so you were looking at her “baby.. you have to know it wasn’t your fault”

“i know that know now but they don’t” you sniffed looking at her with sad eyes “They couldn’t look at me after we were release, never said anything to me, just fed me and told me to stay in my room. They got addicted to their pain meds because according to them it helps with the pain of losing their son.. then they wanted harder drugs and eventually had the balls to tell me it was my fault he died, told me everything they felt about me. how they wished it was me who died and not him, wished they never had me, wished i could’ve asked for something else for my birthday, everything”

“when were you put in foster care?” Natasha asked pulling you in her arms, holding you close “i was eight but they would always send me back for a couple of months, every year because suddenly my parents were sober and were ready to be parents again” you explain to her “but eventually they gave up on the act when i was thirteen and i just continued bouncing between houses”

“if this question isn’t too.. personal. How were you able to come to school here?” She asked as you laid your head on her shoulder and told her “Believe it or not, i did sports in high school. Whatever sport that wouldn’t interfere with others and that i could handle with a job” you play with the loose string from her blouse “I knew that if you play a sport for all fours years, you have a hire chance for a scholarship. I had a four year scholarship”

“had?” She questioned watching you. “my uh my ex was pissed that i broke up with her after graduation and jealous of me going to new york that she sent the school a picture of me drinking and smoking so they took my scholarship” you told her. “what a bitch” she huffs. “right” you agreed before looking up at her “sorry for just spilling all of this out on you, it’s just that.. talking to you feels so easy”

“hey, it’s okays. i don’t mind” she smiles moving her hand on your cheek stroking it “i.. i feel the same way” she confesses “you know, since that moment you describe why you wanted to live here it just made me.. i- i became in awe with you and knowing your story, no your past...” she continued on “i.. to me you are so brave” she says making you shake your head moving out of her arms “nat.. no i’m far from brave”

“but you are. you are the most bravest person i’ve ever met, from your brothers death, to you shitty parents and being bounced around, to your asshole ex getting your scholarship taken away.. you still shine so bright. you prove them wrong by showing them you’re stronger than them, that you can face anything life throws at you” she cups your cheeks in her hands “I’ve known you for a month and i can see that you smile like there’s no tomorrow. You’re a hard worker in school and in work. You literally brighten up the room. You’re an amazing person, amazing friend and i know that deep down you were an amazing daughter who just has parents that forgot how amazing you are because they hid in the pain and the blaming of themselves for whatever” using her thumb, she strokes your cheek “you shine like a star that you are” she looks down at your lips as you looked at hers before pressing your lips on hers.

“i’m sorry.. i-“ you pulled away instantly only for her to hush you “shh it’s okay” she pulls you into another kiss. You both continued kissing until you were out of breath the lyrics of the song filled your ears.

‘This music's the only thing keeping

The peace when I'm fallin' to pieces

Look at the sky tonight, all of the stars have a reason

A reason to shine, a reason like mine and I'm fallin' to pieces

Look at the sky tonight, all of the stars have a reason’

You both talked, giving each other pecks every once in a while before eventually falling asleep in each other’s arms.

—

Natasha groaned as she opened her eyes, sleeping on a car is not comfortable. She looks out at the sky and smiles. It really was a beautiful view in the morning. Looking on her side, she sees you curled into her sleeping peacefully.

she shakes you gently, kissing your forehead “baby.. hey come on wake up” she wakes you. “nooo.. tried” you mumbled sleepily and snuggled more into her.

“come on baby we gotta get you home” she shakes you again before giving up. Pulling away from you, chucking hearing you whine, she gets off the car and picks you up putting you in the passenger seat then puts your seatbelt on. Quickly going to her side, she gets in and takes off the your home.

You wake up a few minutes later and sit up correctly. Glancing at the time, you cringing at the time and look at her “i’m sorry for keeping you out”

“it’s fine, i don’t regret it” she smiles shrugging her shoulders “besides i’m the boss so i’ll be fine being a little late” she gives you a quick wink before pulling into the side to let you out.

“okay..” you say still feeling bad for keeping her out so late and being late to work. “i’ll see you later?” she looks at you.

“yeah” you say nodding and kiss her cheek then locked eyes with her, staring into them before kissing her. ‘God your lips’ you thought.

She pulls always smiling “bye baby” She whispering against your lips making you smile “bye” you say then got out and giving her a little wave before walking in your building. Opening your door, you noticed the lack of photos on the wall and a letter with money next to it on the table. Picking it up, you began to read it.

‘Hey y/n,

i’m sorry i couldn’t tell you this face to face but with you always working and me with volleyball i couldn’t wait anymore. I’m moving out and moving with Kevin. Sorry for not telling you sooner. I already have all my things but i left you the bed frame and 1000 dollars which should cover next months rent. Sorry again

- layla’

“great” you threw the letter on the table and took off to you room climbing into bed hoping to forget about the letter.. at least for now.

—

After dropping you off, Natasha quickly drove to her house to shower, change and get her coffee before heading to work. As she stops at a red light, you consumed her thoughts. For the past months, you were all she thought about and hanging out with you didn’t make it easier. She feels guilty for going with Carol’s game. The feelings she gets when she’s with you some felt new, and some felt like something she felt before with her. Being with you felt like the world was at ease, she felt as if her soul belonged to yours which scared her. Technically she was still married and as far as her love for Bucky goes, she’s realizing that she loved the idea of him and no actually him But she didn’t know what to do, Natasha didn’t know if theses feelings are just platonic or not. I mean she shouldn’t have any type of feelings about you, you’re her husband mistress! Sure, she lights up whenever she sees you, or just has that feeling of wanting to hold you close, feels so safe when with you, feels like she could tell you anything and thinks you’re very gorgeous and that you have the most amazing lips and she just wants to kiss you forever.. and to her you feel.. kinda like home..

‘Oh my god, i’m falling for my husband mistress!!’

BEEP

Natasha jumps at the sound of the car horn honking in back of her seeing that the light was green and started to drive. All Nat knew was that she needed to figure out these feelings for you because the last thing she wants is to hurt herself and you like that way she hurt her.

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“cause i wanna study where i’m comfortable and can take a 5 minute nap” she explains making you both laugh “what’s going on with your car?”

“i don’t know, they said something went wrong with the engine so it won’t be fixed until next week” you groaned.

“do you wanna borrow my car? Vis can let me use his until yours is fixed” she suggests to you. she didn’t like the idea of you walking around at night. “Thank you wans but i’m fine. I actually have someone who offered to drive me” you tell her giving her a big grin.

“oh really? is it bucky?” Wanda looks at you and wiggles her eyebrows. You shake your head and laugh “god no”

“then who is it?” Wanda asked giving you a sly smile. “someone i met at the club” is all you said.

“wow that’s all i get. someone you met at the club”

“yeah” you nod as both of you stopped walking. You spot a black chevy camaro with tinted windows park by you of both. The windows rolled down showing Natasha behind the wheel. “that’s them” you say as you start walking to the car.

Wanda shakes her head and grins “okay, we really need to have a chat about your life”

“tomorrow during break! love you!” you wink at her and wave ‘bye’

she blows a kiss and walks away heading to her own car“love you too!” 

“hey” you greet once in the car. Natasha smiles at you and starts to drive away “hi”

“thank you for picking me up...again” you say to her. “it’s no problem, i don’t mind” she shrugs driving to your work. “well thank you anyways”you protest before leaning over and kissing her cheek making them flush red.

Natasha has been picking you up from school and work this past days, as much as you tried to decline the offer knowing she’s a busy woman. She has no problem in doing so and told you she didn’t want you wasting money on taxis or get kidnapped.

“so how was class?” Natasha asked as she stop at a light. “good, one of my professors weren’t here today so i was able to catch up on work and finish most of them that are due this week and the next” you tell her. “that’s good” is all she says, you turn your head and admire her.

Green eyes glanced at you before turning back to the road “what?” she asked. You shake your head and smile looking away “nothing.. you just look beautiful.. you always do. i’m jealous”

“thank you.. and you always look gorgeous so no need to be jealous” she gives you a quick wink. You blush and look down at your lap “thank you”

She parks the car out front, when getting off you gave her a confused look noticing she as well is getting off. “i’m meeting a friend for lunch here” she answers you seeing your expression. “wow telling all your friends my secret spot” You teased her as you both walk in the diner.

“what can i say i’m hooked” she shrugs giving a guilty smile. Giggling, you nudged her arm with yours “mm i knew you would be” you continued “well pick a table and i’ll be right out to take your order”

She nods and finds an empty table as you walked away to go change into your work uniform. The one you had was a little bit short on you but you made it work by putting some spandex underneath. The door chimes and Carol walks in, spotting Natasha, she makes her way over to her and takes a seat.

“well this is a nice spot” the blonde looks around at the place. “yeah it is” Natasha agrees looking at the menu.

“when did you find it?“ she asked, Natasha was about to respond when you came to the table smiling holding a pen and small notebook.

“hello ladies, what can i get you both?” you greet them. “y/n, this is my friend Carol” Natasha introduces her to you “Carol, this is y/n. a new friend i’ve met”

You smiled at the blonde and shake her hand when she held it out “Nice to meet you”

“you too” she smirks at you, wanting to tease Natasha, she was about to speak when Nat noticed and started ordering “i’ll have the cali club sandwich please and a water”

You nod at her and wrote it down, waiting for the blonde. “um i’ll get the lizzie lunch special and a coke, thank you” she tells you.

“a cali club and a lizzie special coming right up” You repeat before walking away to the kitchen.

“geez Nat you didn’t tell me she was this beautiful” Carol watches you, eyes trailing down to your ass “damn i swear if i wasn’t married to Maria..”

“stop it, you horndog” The redhead reaches across the table and smacks her arm. “what? i mean i’m not wrong, you can’t tell me you don’t think she’s beautiful” she pleaded giving Nat a look.

“yeah she is” Natasha sighed agreeing with her. “see!” Carol laughs as nat notices you walking back.

You set down the drinks in front of them “here’s your drinks, your food should be in a few” you look at Nat and blushed then walked away.

Carol smirks noticing your blush and look at her friend “she totally likes you”

“no she doesn’t” The ceo shakes her head getting a feeling deep in her from the blondes words. “yes she does! look at her and i bet you fifty she’ll blush” Carol challenged her. Not believing her, Natasha looks at you meeting your eyes, you blushes bright red and looked away fast from being caught. Those green eyes really do something to you.

“pay up buttercup” Carol grins watching it play out and holds her hand out to Natasha who mumbles a ‘whatever’ slapping a fifty on her palm.

“you should mess with her” the blonde blurts out. Natasha looks at her as if she’s crazy before shaking her head “what? no way”

“why not?” Carol asked thinking nothing of it. “i’m still married Carol” her friends explains.

“yes you are but i didn’t mean sleep with her like your husband did. I meant play with her feelings, make her seem like you have feelings for her then boom drop her” Carol presented to her. “no.” Nat shakes her head again wanting this conversation to be over.

“why not? it’ll be the next step in your plan. it’s the perfect game if you ask me” Carol says taking a sip of her drink.

“no i don’t want to do that to her” Nat declines the idea again. “why not? she’s sleeping with your husband” Carol points out making the redhead snap.

“we don’t know that officially!” Nat shouts at her causing everyone in the restaurant to turn heads at them. Nat looks at you then back at Carol who had a guilty look on her face.

“hey is everything alright over here” you quickly walked to them asking. “yes!” Natasha snaps at you causing you to flinch and she quickly apologizes “i’m sorry, yes we’re fine”

“okay” you nod watching the both of them. “y/n! a guy name Bucky is asking for you” your coworker yelled from the back. Giving them one last glance, you walked away and head to the back. Carol looks at nat giving her a look that says ‘see’

“never mind. i like your plan” Natasha changes her mind hearing her husbands name being said, even when deep inside her she feels a bit of guilt for wanting to go with the plan. She was starting to like you.. as a friend of course.

You thanked your coworker taking the phone from her “what bucky?” you asked. “i need to see you tonight y/n” he responded.

“Buck i don’t..” you sigh and run your hand down your face “fine. your place?”

“yeah” he says. “okay bye” you hang up on him and get back to work. You grab the food and walk to Natasha’s table.

“here you both go” You set their food down in front of them. Carol giving a quick ‘thanks’ and Natasha saying “thanks baby” causing you to almost drop the plate.

“y-you’re welcome” You stuttered before quickly leaving trying to process what she just said. Your heart skipped at beat hearing her call you ‘baby’

Once they were done eating, Natasha walks up to the counter where you were at “so i’ll pick you up after work”

“no” you shouted, clearing your throat you continued “i mean it’s fine, um Wanda’s picking me up. We’re uh we’re having dinner together”

“oh okay, well i’ll see you tomorrow?” Natasha raising an eyebrow and nods watching you closely. “yeah” is all you say.

“okay, bye sweetheart” Natasha leans forward and kisses your cheek before waving at you walking out with the blonde who was waiting. “b-bye nat” you waved back watching her go. You bite your lip and get back to work trying to shake off the feeling you got from the kiss. You really didn’t want Nat to find out about Bucky, you didn’t want to know what her reaction will be finding out you’re going on ‘dates’ with a man for money.

After work, you put back on your regular clothes and say your goodbyes before calling for a taxi. You quickly get in and tell the driver the address. Thinking about what happened earlier, you couldn’t help but blush at the thought of the kiss she gave you. Even though it was on the cheek, it gave you butterflies. You haven’t felt like this since your last girlfriend who you thought was your everything until you found her in bed with her boss. You like Natasha, you really do, this past couple days of texting and calling each other made you feel things you shouldn’t because she just recently got a divorce and you doubt she’ll think of you like that. You needed to figure out this crush you have on her but first you need to handle Bucky first.

—

You arrived at Bucky’s penthouse, taking a taxi. When you arrived and enter the building, you failed to notice a familiar black charger parking and a redhead following behind you.

Taking the elevator, you nervous played with the rings on your fingers, watching the number on the wall go up. This is something you’ve been dredging on doing but you knew you had to meet up with Bucky sometime soon.

Hearing the ping and the door opening, you walked out heading to the door. You took a deep breath and knock on the door. Natasha gets out off the elevator and quickly hides behind the corner, watching you wait at the door. The door unlocks and opens, Bucky smiles and opens it more for you. Nat watched you walk in and slowly walks to the door hoping to hear your conversation. Bucky shuts it before speaking. 

“thanks for meeting me” He walks to the home bar and starts making a drink while you take a sit on the stool. “well can’t avoid you forever right” you joked with him.

Bucky places a martini in front of you, giving him a ‘thanks’ you took a sip before speaking “look bucky imma give this to you straight” you placed your drink down “next week will be my last week, i’m ending our arrangement”

He stares at you for a second before as answering “okay” You give him a confused look, “okay?”

“yeah, i’m glad you are actually” he nods and sips his drink “i’ve.. i’ve meet someone”

“oh” you gave him a teasing smile. “that’s why i’ve been calling you, i really like her even though we’re taking it really slow due to somethings” He explains to you.

“what about that time at the club?” You asked him taking another sip of your drink. “oh yeah, she was kinda giving me the cold shoulder and i was hurt so i guess i tried to distract myself with you” He tells you.

“ouch” You made a pained expression. “i’m sorry but we both know that you don’t actually like me like that” He apologize before you both laugh at what he said.

“yeah, no i don’t” You shake your head swirling your drink before setting it down “well i better go, i have class early tomorrow” you get up and smiled at him.

“okay, i’ll send you this weeks and next weeks check” Bucky says walking you to the door.

“alright” You nod taking your phone out and looking at him “Thank you Bucky, really. You’ve literally saved my life by helping me out” you smile at him before giving him a hug which he returned.

“anytime y/n. if you ever need me just give me a call” he kisses your head before letting you go and opening the door while Natasha moves away from it, running to the elevator and starts to repeatedly pushing the bottom silently praying for it to open.

“I will. bye” You wave and walked out heading to the elevator when you caught a familiar redhead by the elevator.

“Nat? what are you doing here?”

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