Fyrlight

You told yourself you would not do this.

You would not get used to the way it felt to be surrounded by her and her things - one of her leather jackets slung over the chair, a pair of her boots by the door, the faint scent of her shampoo still clinging stubbornly to the pillows around you.

And yet... here you were anyway. 

Pathetically laying in her bed... Curled up beneath her blankets, your head buried in her pillow, surrounded by traces of her that made the absence somehow worse. 

Missing her.

The thing was, you had spent years learning how to be alone. It had never bothered you before. You liked your own company. Liked the quiet, liked having your own space.

Then Natasha had happened.

And somewhere between late-night takeout, stolen hours between missions, and waking up tangled together more often than not, your definition of normal had shifted without asking permission.

"You’re such a traitor." You murmured quietly as Liho, her black cat, shifted slightly against the side of your head and let out the biggest sigh known to catkind.

Her tail flicked in response, unimpressed, before settling more comfortably against you, warm and solid and very clearly thinking the same as you.

You sighed as well, letting your head tilt to the side as you glanced down at her.

"You're supposed to make this less pathetic, you know?" 

Liho blinked at you slowly, greenish eyes looking at you as if she were waiting for something.

You reached down absently, gently scratching behind her ears. She leaned into it immediately, purring, and you could not help the small smile that tugged at your lips even if you tried. She always seemed to have that power over you. And her owner too.

"Yeah, yeah. I know," you mumbled, pursing your lips. "You miss her."

Because that was the thing, it was not just you. Perhaps the situation would be easier if it had been the case.

The whole room felt like it was waiting. Like it was holding its breath until Natasha walked back through the door and everything clicked back into place.

You let your gaze drift towards the nightstand - everything exactly where she left it, like she will be back any second.

Except she will not.

Not tonight.

Not for a few days, at least.

Solo missions would do that.

Liho shifted again, stretching this time, one of her paws pressing lightly against your ear.

You exhaled slowly, staring back up at the ceiling.

This was stupid.

You were being stupid. And you knew it, but apparently reason had no play in your feelings.

She was fine, after all. She was always fine.

You did not need to...

But your hand moved before you fully decided to, reaching for your phone where it rested on the mattress beside you. You stared at the screen for a second, the background picture greeting you not helping to talk yourself out of doing what you wanted to. Still, you paused for a second, teeth grazing your lower lip as you forced yourself to think rationally about this.

She was on a mission, after all. She did not need distractions.

She definitely did not need you calling in the middle of the night because you... Well, because you what? Missed her? Wanted to see her? Heard her voice? Make sure she was okay?

That felt... dangerously close to something neither of you were ready to unpack right now. Liho let out a small, impatient sound, nudging your hand with her head.

You glanced down at her, eyebrows raised.

"...You’re not helping." You grunted, closing your eyes before letting out yet another sigh. 

God, you were so pathetic.

Liho was still staring at you when you opened back your eyes, you rolled them before hitting the call button.

It rang once... Twice... You almost talked yourself out of it and hung up but by the third ring, the line clicked.

"Yeah?" Natasha's voice answered, slightly hoarse, a little quieter than usual.

Relief hit you so fast it almost made you dizzy and angry at yourself. One word, one raspy, sleep-roughened word, and suddenly the knot that had been sitting beneath your ribs for days loosened.

Were you this desperate and gone for this woman? You hated that, hated how immediate it was - as if some part of you had been waiting for proof that she was still there. Still breathing. Still okay.

The realization hit a second later and made you want to throw your phone across the room. Because, God, you really were gone for this woman. You needed to get a grip on yourself, and that as soon as possible. And preferably before she found out as well.

"Hey, you..." You replied, smiling at the ceiling, scrunching your nose as Liho's snout nudged your chin.

There was a faint rustle on the other end - movement, maybe. Fabric shifting. The soft, distant hum of a foreign location you could not quite place.

"You okay?" Natasha asked immediately, worry lacing into her voice.

Of course she did.

You huffed a small breath, glancing down at Liho as she curled tighter against your shoulder, ears shifting at the voice coming out of your phone.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine."

There was a beat of silence where you could practically hear Natasha thinking.

"Then why are you calling?" Straight to the point, not hitting around the bush with her - you always liked that. Usually.

You hesitated, because you did not actually really have a good answer. 

"Can't I just call m-" You stopped yourself just in time, clearing your throat. Logically you knew she was your girlfriend. You had been on too many dates together if that was not the case. But you never said the actual word. There was actually more than one word you had not said yet. "Can't I just call you? It's been almost a week, I wanted to hear your voice."

Natasha let out a faint exhale on the other end, almost a huff.

"Of course you can call me, I just thought something was wrong at first," she grumbled, stopping as she heard you shift. "You're in my room."

It was not a question, it made you blink, caught off guard by her words. 

"Wha-how did you even know?"

"Background noise," she replied, a smile in her voice. "And... you just confirmed it."

You shifted slightly, pulling the blanket up a little higher as you rolled your eyes at her smug tone. 

"Well, for the record, I’m here for a very important reason."

There was a soft, amused sound from Natasha on the other end.

"Huh uh, sure."

"It's true. You said Liho needed supervision and she doesn't wanna leave your room, so... here I am." You replied, chuckling when the cat let out a soft chirp, shifting closer to the voice.

"Alright, turn the camera on." Natasha asked, waiting.

You smiled, turning on your side and putting the phone on the other pillow to make sure she had a good view of Liho too. 

Natasha's face appeared on the screen seconds later, her hair pulled back in a neat braid. 

"There are my girls," she smirked, the corner of her mouth softening as she took in Liho's curled up position next to you. Her gaze flicked briefly to the side - like she was taking in the angle, the background, the way you were positioned. "You're on my side." She hummed, one eyebrow raising knowingly.

You narrowed your eyes, biting down the inside of your cheek. 

"What?"

Natasha's smirk deepened, slow and knowing.

"The bed... you're on my side." She repeated, voice dropping just slightly as she raised both eyebrows this time.

You froze, because... you were. Without even thinking about it. 

"It's... more comfortable." You said quickly. 

Natasha did not respond right away, just looked at you like she knew that was not the real reason. Or to the very least, not the only one.

Your pulse picked up slightly at the look on her face so you quickly cleared your throat, looking down at the cat. 

"Liho chose it first." You added, gesturing vaguely to the cat as backup. But of course, the traitor that she was, barely even reacted, simply staring at the screen while licking her paw absently.

Natasha chuckled, low and warm.

"Of course she did." She looked at the cat with playful suspicion before her eyes slid back to you.

You huffed out a quiet laugh, nodding. 

"Yeah, she’s been complaining. A lot. I think she misses you."

Natasha pressed her lips together, taking in the sight in front of her.

"How is the roommate's situation going?"

"...She knocked over a glass earlier." You glanced down at the cat again, making a face. 

Natasha sighed, glaring at Liho through the screen. 

"I chose her name so well." She shook her head, but there was unmistakable affection in it.

You smiled before you could stop yourself.

And she saw it.

Of course she did.

Her gaze lingered on your face for a second longer than necessary, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes.

"Why did you call?" And there it was, the question you knew was coming again at some point.

You hesitated, because the real answer was sitting right there, obvious and inconvenient and a little too honest for comfort.

Because you wanted to see her.

Because you missed her.

Because her room felt too empty and wrong without her in it.

Because ever since you met her, she was always in a corner of your mind and these last couple of days you went back to that place more times than you would have liked - and actually needed to hear from the real her before turning completely crazy.

You shifted slightly, picking at a loose thread on the blanket. 

"Just checking in, you know..."

Natasha’s expression did not change but you could tell she did not buy it.

"Okay, and now the truth?"

"Hey, that's mean. I am checking in too." You grumbled, frowning at her.

She leaned closer to the camera, her face taking up more of the screen. The way she called your name always got you, and this time was no exception.

"You would check in if you knew I could actually talk about the mission. Which I can't. Which you already know. So...?"

"Wow. Okay. Read me like a book, why don’t you..." You huffed a small breath, rolling your eyes.

Natasha gave a small, smug shrug.

"I am."

You glanced back up at her. And unfortunately, she was still watching you like that. Too focused, too attentive, like she was waiting patiently for you to find the words.

Your chest tightened.

"...Couldn’t sleep." You admitted instead, softer this time.

It was not the whole truth but it was not a lie either.

Natasha's face softened.

"Yeah? Even if you're in my bed, surrounded by all my things... And wearing my shirt?" She sounded almost amused.

You glared at her, frowning. 

"Stop being mean, I'll hang up."

"Okay, okay." Natasha held up one hand in mock surrender.

She looked genuinely amused for a minute though. But then silence settled again, not the same as before. It felt heavier now. Charged with something you could not quite name, only feel.

You watched her for a second. The way her eyes scanned the area behind the camera. The way her shoulders stayed just a little too tense, even when she was standing still.

She was working.

Even now.

Always.

"But I will anyway, you should get back to it..." You added quietly, offering her a gentle smile.

Natasha exhaled, and for a moment you thought she might actually protest.

"Yeah, probably." But she did not move, did not end the call, neither did you.

Your heart was beating a little too fast. There was something sitting in your chest again - that familiar pressure, that weight that had been building for weeks now, threading itself through every moment like this.

You swallowed.

"I-" You started, breaths burning your lungs.

Natasha stilled, eyebrows raising as you suddenly stopped talking.

"Yeah?" She prompted.

Your fingers tightened around the phone as you brought it closer. God.

This was stupid.

It was just words.

Just three words.

You could say them.

Right now.

She was right there. Looking at you like that. Like... like she was waiting. Like she could see the battle happening behind your eyes, like she was standing at the edge of the same cliff.

"I... I l-" The words caught, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as you drew in a breath before panic slammed into you. You saw it then, so clearly, the possibility of silence. Of surprise. Of not hearing it back... And suddenly every survival instinct you possessed grabbed the wheel. "I mean I... You know,Liho is being very well taken care of. And I'll keep on doing that," you finished abruptly, the words coming out too fast. "Just so you know. Don't have to worry. About anything." You added with a smile.

Natasha blinked, then her face did something complicated, and suddenly she looked like she was the one whose air had been punched out of her chest even though you were the one actually out of breath. 

"Yeah... I can see that."

"Good," you murmured, nodding a few times, hesitating again before clearing your throat. "Stay safe, okay?"

Natasha nodded slowly, eyebrows furrowing. 

"...I will," she said finally, her gaze lingering on you for a second longer than it should. As if she were suspicious. "I’ll call you when I’m done."

You smiled, even though the motion felt rushed and out of place. 

"Yeah. Okay."

Neither of you hung up immediately.

You just sit there for a second, looking at each other through the screen, waiting for more. Like there was something else to say.

Something just out of reach.

But then the screen went dark.

And the room felt just a little too big again, leaving you with words too big to deal with.

⧗

The plan had been simple on paper.

It always was.

In reality, however, it had dissolved into noise, smoke, and the kind of chaos that made your ears ring and all your carefully constructed thoughts scatter like startled birds. 

Somewhere above you, something heavy collapsed with a metallic shriek, sending vibrations through the whole floor. The lights flickered twice before settling into a dim, unreliable pulse that painted everything in uneven shadows as dust fell from the ceiling like dirty snowflakes.

You pressed your back against the cold concrete pillar behind you, forcing yourself to breathe through the adrenaline clawing up your throat after taking down five other men. Your comm crackled with overlapping voices - Sam swearing, Tony complaining about power surges, someone yelling coordinates that immediately got drowned out by static.

Your earpiece buzzed again after another slow breath, and this time Natasha's voice came through clearly: "Status?" 

Her voice was calm and grounded. Far too calm for the situation.

You exhaled sharply, something in your chest loosening just from hearing her - the sound of her voice hit you with embarrassing force. The building was still trying its absolute best to collapse on top of you. Your ears were ringing and your shoulder hurt and there were armed men somewhere in the vicinity actively trying to kill you. And yet the moment Natasha spoke, something inside your chest loosened.

You actually hated that she could do that, like some part of your brain had quietly filed her under safe, under trust, under the person you wanted beside you when everything else went to hell.

"Took down most of them but pinned on the lower level, door won't fucking open," you muttered, glancing around the corner before quickly ducking back as a burst of gunfire shredded the wall where your head had been a second ago. "Shit, three hostiles, maybe more. You?" There was a brief pause when you could practically hear her calculating.

"On my way." Natasha replied, voice steady despite the gunfire echoing faintly in the background of her comm. 

You huffed a breath that was half relief, half exasperation, dragging the hand that was not holding your gun through your damp hair as dust still rained down from above. You perked by the wall, shooting one of the three guards. 

"Nat, you’re not exactly in a position to be detouri-"

"I said I'm on my way." She cut in sharply before you could get another word out. 

That tone meant she was not taking anything for an answer besides what she had already decided.

You rolled your eyes - even though she could not see you - before dodging another bullet as you ducked into another corner, firing two more back and hearing a groan as one bullet touched a shoulder. 

"Yeah, okay, Romanoff. Because this mission hasn’t gone off the rails enough already, let’s just add 'reckless heroics' to the list."

"Shut up and hold your fire," Natasha scoffed, appearing on the other end of the hallways and taking down the two men before quickly jogging back to your side. "Well, you're welcome." She breathed out, bruised lips forming a small smile.

Before you could fire back, another explosion rocked the building, way too close this time. The wall at your back shuddered violently, cracks splintering up its side. You stumbled as the floor shook, catching yourself just in time, heart slamming hard enough to make your vision blur as the ceiling above the three guards lying on the floor suddenly collapsed on them.

"Fuck-" You gasped, pushing off and moving quickly to a slightly less terrible piece of cover with the redhead following. "Okay, that was... not ideal. Like at all." You added, one arm extended in front of Natasha - even though no one was coming your way as she stopped at your side. 

"No shit." She grunted, scanning the area before tugging on your wrist to urge you to follow her.

"Took the long detour to come to me, huh." You joked as you carefully climbed back the stairs to find yet another issue.

"Traffic." She replied dryly, already peeking around the corner, assessing, calculating. Always working.

And God, even now, even like this, even with alarms screaming overhead and dust coating the back of your throat, even while your heart was trying to punch its way through your ribs - your eyes kept finding her. 

The steady set of her shoulders. The quick, efficient movements of her hands. The way she assessed every angle, every exit, every threat in a matter of seconds.

Natasha always looked like she belonged in chaos, like she had made peace with it years ago and simply learned how to move through the storm, or perhaps had made a pact with it and already knew nothing would happen to her.

It should have been terrifying, instead it made something warm and painful unfurl beneath your ribs. Because every impossible situation somehow became more manageable when she was standing beside you. Because she had come for you.

The mission had gone sideways and the building was falling apart. And somehow Natasha had still heard you were trapped and immediately changed course. No hesitation, no discussion.

Your chest tightened - not from fear this time, but something sharper, heavier. Something that had been building for weeks, months, quietly threading itself through moments each more inadequate than the last.

You swallowed hard, forcing your attention back to the situation at hand. 

"Hey, Nat," you said slowly, glancing up at the ceiling that was definitely not supposed to be doing that. "Tell me you have a backup plan."

Natasha glanced at you, lips pressed together.

"I do..." She grumbled, forcing a door open with her shoulder before quickly climbing up the next stack of emergency stairs. "Not sure you’ll like it, though."

"Natasha, I already don't like that we're going up right now..." You grunted, running to catch up with her.

She did not answer, just kept moving. The stairs were narrow and creaky underfoot. 

"Sam or Tony’s gonna catch us on the rooftop." She replied, frowning at the door that refused to open. She kicked the combination lock, hissing as she grabbed a bunch of wires, ignoring the look you gave her.

Another tremor rippled through the building, stronger this time. A section of the ceiling caved in somewhere nearby with a deafening crash, the sound echoing through the corridors like a warning bell.

Your pulse spiked.

This was bad.

This was really bad.

Not because of the collapsing building, not because Tony's voice had disappeared from the comms three minutes ago, not because every instinct you possessed was screaming that the situation was deteriorating faster than anyone could fix. But because, for one horrible second, you genuinely thought this might be it.

And suddenly, all the things that normally seemed important vanished.

And suddenly, all you could focus on was Natasha. Natasha, crouched beside a broken security panel. Natasha, covered in sweat, soot and bruises.

And suddenly, the words were there.

Right there.

Sitting at the back of your throat, heavy and insistent and impossible to ignore anymore - because the thought of leaving this world without telling her hit you harder than any fear you might have felt all night.

You took in another shaky breath, your eyes tracking the smudge of soot along her jaw, the way a strand of red hair had come loose and was sticking to her cheek, the dried blood on her chin, the sharp focus in her eyes even as the world quite literally fell apart around you.

God.

If there was ever a moment... If the building came down right now, if this was the last conversation you ever had, you might actually not bear the idea of her never knowing. 

"Nat," you started, your voice coming out tighter than you intended, almost swallowed by the distant sound of collapsing concrete. "If we, you know, don’t make it-"

"We will." She cut you off, the response immediate, like she had not even needed to think about it.

You blinked, lips parted as you observed her work on the colorful wires carefully.

"I... well, yeah, but like, if we don’t-"

"But we will," Natasha repeated, sharper this time, finally glancing at you. There was something in her eyes now - something stubborn, unyielding and fierce. "I won’t accept otherwise."

You stared at her for a second, incredulous, adrenaline and frustration tangling together in your chest. 

"Oh my god, I know," you shot back, gesturing vaguely at the crumbling building around you. "I’m just trying to tell y-"

"Dekta," she cut in, her voice dropping just slightly, softer but no less firm. "It’s me. I won’t let anything bad happen to us... If you let me work on those fucking wires."

And there it was.

That certainty.

That absolute, unwavering belief that she could hold the entire world together through sheer willpower alone if it meant keeping you safe.

Your chest ached.

Because you knew her.

You knew where that came from.

And you knew how dangerous it was.

You let out a breath that turned into a frustrated half-laugh, dragging a hand down your face. 

"Fuck, you’re so stubborn," you muttered, shaking your head at this impossible woman. "Whatever."

But the words did not go away.

They just settled deeper, heavier, waiting.

And the building gave another violent shudder, as if reminding you that time was running out.

⧗

It started as nothing.

At least, that was what you told yourself.

Just another debrief after another mission successfully wrapped. So, naturally, another cluster of agents and Avengers lingering a little too long in the common area with glasses in hands and loud music all around.

You noticed her by accident.

At least, that was what you told yourself later.

The truth was that your eyes had developed a bad habit over the past several months.

No matter how crowded the room was or who you were talking to, no matter how hard you tried to focus on literally anything else - they always found Natasha eventually.

Like a compass needle snapping north.

You could be in the middle of a conversation, could be laughing at something Tony said, could be halfway through a story - and somehow your gaze would drift across the room searching for red hair and green eyes before you even realized what you were doing.

Tonight was no different.

One second you were pretending to listen to Sam rant about government paperwork, leaning back against the counter with a drink you had half-drowned already, the next your eyes had wandered.

And there she was...

Beautiful.

Effortlessly, unfairly beautiful.

Standing a few feet away and talking to... someone.

You would not have thought twice about it, except... Well, she was smiling.

Not the polite, diplomatic curve of her lips she used when she was playing a role. Not the sharp, amused smirk she gave when she was teasing.

A real smile. Soft and easy and unrestricted.

Your stomach flipped, and not the pleasant kind of movements it usually did when it involved her.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, trying to focus past the noise in the room to get a better look at who she was talking to. Some agent, you recognized the face vaguely, newer, maybe. You did not really know. What you could decipher however was the confident stance, way too relaxed to be speaking with Natasha, and leaning just a little too close.

And you realized with anger seeping into your veins that your girlfriend was not stepping away.

In fact, she tilted her head slightly, listening carefully before saying something back. And God, the agent had the fucking audacity to laugh.

Your grip tightened around the glass in your hand.

It was nothing.

Right?

It had to be nothing. Natasha knew plenty of people. People you did not know yourself. It was part of her job, after all. And it was not fair, she was not doing anything wrong. It was fine, not a big deal. But your slightly inebriated brain was set on convincing yourself it was a very big deal.

You forced your shoulders to relax, dragging your gaze away.

She was allowed to talk to people, a completely normal activity that human beings engaged in every day.

She was allowed to smile, too. Hell, you loved her smile.

This was normal.

This was-

You glanced back before you could stop yourself, and they were still talking. God, how long was this discussion going to be?

Your eyes kept on tracking every movement for the following minutes while the rest of your face was still pretending to listen to Sam’s story.

Every smile, every second she remained standing there. The worst part was that you trusted Natasha completely. This was not about trust, it was somehow more embarrassing than that, it was wanting.

Wanting her attention.

Wanting that smile.

Wanting to be the person she looked at like that.

And watching someone else get it felt like tiny little paper cuts somewhere beneath your ribs.

Death by a thousand stupid insecurities.

You took another drink.

An excellent decision, clearly.

Natasha said something else, her expression shifted - something amused flickering in her eyes - and the agent reached out briefly, brushing her dirty, unworthy fingers against her arm as she responded.

Something in your chest twisted. 

Okay.

No.

Nope.

That was not happening.

You pushed off the counter before you could think better of it, crossing the room with the purpose you intended. You told yourself it was casual. That you were just... joining the conversation. Gathering information before actually stepping in.

Not interrupting.

Definitely not interrupting.

Natasha noticed you coming the moment your footstep hit a particularly creaky floorboard two steps to her right. Her gaze lifted, locking onto yours - sharp, assessing and aware like she always knew exactly where you were in a room. 

The... woman - whoever she was or thought she was - beside her was still speaking, oblivious to the sudden shift in atmosphere.

"Hey," you said, a little too quickly, stopping beside the redhead and leaning into her side more heavily than you intended, blinking a few times to stop the world from moving too much - perhaps you should have stopped at two drinks like Sam suggested earlier.

The agent turned to you and offered an easy smile, probably delighted to have two Avengers speaking to her. 

You nodded stiffly, barely acknowledging her before your attention snapped back to the person who actually mattered to you. 

"Didn’t know you were still in debrief mode."

Natasha's lips twitched at the contact, subtle but there, her hand spreading on the small of your back to steady you. 

"We’re not." She replied, her voice calm and even as always.

"Right," you said, glancing between them. "Just... chatting then."

"Yes." Natasha’s eyes narrowed slightly.

There was a beat.

An awkward one, if you could say so yourself.

You did not like it.

"So," you added, forcing something casual into your tone that did not quite land the way you wanted it to. "What’d I miss?"

The unknown woman chuckled nervously. 

"Not much. Just telling Miss Romanoff about my upgrade ideas for her bites."

"Her bites?" You replied, eyebrows raised, ignoring the way Natasha's hand tightened on your back in warning.

"Yeah, you know... widow bites. They're impressive already but Mister Stark wanted my help to upgrade them and Miss Romanoff had some very good suggestions," she continued, praising your girlfriend like you were not standing right the fuck there. "Didn’t expect that kind of knowledge, actually. You know a lot about... well, a lot." The young woman giggled.

Something about the way she said it, like it was new, like she was just discovering something you had known for so long... it grated.

"Yeah," you said again, tighter this time. "She does tend to know a lot about a lot." You let out a snort, giving the young woman a look.

Natasha’s gaze flicked to you again, sharper now. Assessing.

The woman glanced between the two of you, clearly picking up on something. Finally. Tony had not picked the brightest one, it seemed.

"Well," she said, clearing her throat slightly. "I should, uh, let you t-"

"Yep," you cut in quickly. "Perhaps you should."

Natasha shot you a look at that, but the woman just nodded awkwardly and stepped away, muttering something about other projects.

You did not even watch her go, your focus was entirely on Natasha now.

The second she was out of earshot, the silence shifted.

Your redhead turned to you fully, arms crossing as she let go of you.

"Okay," she said, eyebrows raised. "What the hell was that?"

Your jaw clenched as you leaned against the wall for support, making a face of confusion. 

"What was what?"

Natasha exhaled through her nose. 

"That," she repeated, gesturing vaguely in the direction the agent disappeared. "Just now."

You let out a short breath, shaking your head. 

"Nothing, just... talked to your new friend, that's all."

Natasha's expression flattened, her eyes flashing with something that was both arousing and thrilling. God, whatever was in your drink really fucked you up.

"What is your problem?"

"My problem?" You echoed, incredulous. "I don’t have a problem."

Natasha stepped closer, lowering her voice. 

"Really," she said flatly, unimpressed. "Because you just interrupted a conversation for no reason and then acted li-"

"For no reason?" You cut in, the words coming out sharper than you intended. "Seriously?"

Natasha's jaw tightened, irritation flashing across her face.

"Yes. Seriously." She hissed back, keeping her voice low but making sure to send her point across.

You stared at her, incredulous.

"Wow," you muttered, running a hand through your hair. "Okay. Good to know then."

"Good to know what?" Natasha frowned.

"That you’re just... completely fucking oblivious." You grumbled.

"Excuse me?" Her eyebrows raised higher. 

You hesitated. Because saying it out loud felt... actually ridiculous.

And petty.

And yet...

"You guys were flirting." You said finally.

The words hung in the air for a moment, then Natasha let out a sigh, leaned back against the wall, and turned to face you.

"I really wasn't."

You let out a disbelieving huff. 

"Na-"

"I wasn't," Natasha repeated, firmer now, her gaze steady. "And if she thought I was, she's sorely mistaken."

You shrugged, the alcohol not helping you think clearly. 

"Well, you were smiling."

"I smile," she replied, voice cooling as something you could not quite understand shifted in her expression, her shoulders dropping. "Sometimes."

"I don't know, not like that..." You grumbled lamely.

Natasha stared at you for a long moment, then exhaled through her nose as her eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, like what?"

"Like-" You stopped, frustrated, gesturing vaguely because you did not even have the right words for it. "Like you meant it or something."

"And that's a problem?" Natasha huffed out a laugh.

You opened your mouth before closing it again.

Because no. It should not be.

She was allowed to smile. Allowed to talk to people. Allowed to-

"Let’s just forget it..." You muttered, shaking your head.

Natasha reached out, gripping your chin gently and forcing you to look at her.

"Nuh uh," she said immediately, lips twitching. "Don’t do that. You started this, now finish it. Even if you're drunk."

You let out a sharp breath, throwing her a dirty look at her last words. 

"Well, it’s just..." You cut yourself off again, jaw tightening. "It’s nothing, can we drop it?"

"It clearly isn't nothing."

"It is," you insisted, even though your chest felt tight, your thoughts a mess. "I just didn’t expect you to be so... friendly."

Natasha studied you, letting go of your chin to rest her palm on your sternum, thumb brushing the collar of your shirt.

"I'm friendly when I choose to be." She hummed.

"Yeah, I noticed." You chuckled, the words coming out more bitter than you intended this time. You reached for her hand with one of yours, keeping it on you - the touch grounding in a tilting world.

Natasha laced her fingers through yours, squeezing slightly.

"So what? I can't talk to someone now?"

"That’s not what I said."

"It’s what you’re implying."

"I’m not implying anything-"

Natasha sighed, cutting you off. 

"You walked over there and shut down a conversation because you didn’t like it," she replied, voice sharpening. "So tell me, what exactly is the issue here?"

You stared at her.

Because the issue was obvious.

At least, it was to you.

But saying it out loud? That was different.

"That woman was clearly into you." You said instead.

Natasha blinked at you before snorting. 

"Yeah, and?"

"And?" You stopped, frustrated, running a hand through your hair again. "And nothing. It’s just, like, obvious."

Natasha tilted her head, lips twitching. 

"So?"

"So-" You exhaled sharply, feeling stupid. "You didn’t seem to... mind."

Her gaze locked onto yours, amusement flickering there. 

"Yeah? Should I have?"

"I don’t know," you snapped, frowning at her, not understanding the funny aspect of this discussion like she seemed to. "Maybe... Probably."

Natasha leaned in closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her breath.

"Why?"

The question landed heavier than it should, the hair at the back of your neck standing up in alarm.

You hesitated.

Because the answer was sitting right there, at the front of your mind, loud and insistent and impossible to ignore.

Because you did not like seeing someone else look at her like that.

Because you did not like the idea of her wanting that from someone else.

Because you-

"Because I-" The words slipped out before you could stop them, your voice cracking. "I just don’t like it, okay?"

Natasha hummed, lips curling into a satisfied smile, thumb brushing your hand.

You swallowed hard.

Your heart was pounding, she could probably feel it.

"I-I don't like seeing you like that. Imagining you with someone else." You grumbled, the words rough, pulled straight out of your chest.

Natasha pursed her lips, eyes on your frowning face.

"You think I’m 'with' someone else?" She asked, amused.

"No," you said quickly. "No, that’s not what I-just-" you shook your head, frustrated with yourself now. "Forget it. You can't understand."

Natsha hummed, looking at you with that familiar mixture of amusement and fondness, as if you were the most entertaining thing she had encountered all evening.

"Then explain it to me," she challenged, stepping closer and lowering her voice. "Because from where I’m standing, it looks a lot like you got jealous over a conversation."

"I didn’t," you stopped yourself again, exhaling sharply. "You're enjoying this too much," you grunted, giving her a look. "Okay, maybe I did. A little."

Natasha smirked, really smirked, the kind that made your stomach flip.

"Good of you to keep up, I've been enjoying it for five minutes," she chuckled, tilting her head to give you a knowing look. "A little?" She repeated.

"Fine. More than a little." You grumbled.

Natasha's smirk softened into something warmer, almost fond. Her eyes flicked downward, kissing you before you could dig yourself into a deeper hole than you were already, lips smiling against yours as she tasted the remeanant of the alcohol there.

You closed your eyes, trying to keep your mouth shut too. Because the truth was right there.

Because you loved her.

It sat at the back of your throat, heavy, burning, ready. Pulsing in time with the organ in your chest.

This would be so easy, too easy, to whisper it against her lips and blame it on the liquid courage coursing through you. To gasp it into her mouth, letting her swallow the words and sealing them with your insistent lips on hers.

You were already here, already halfway there, already saying things you probably should not be saying.

What were three more words?

Your pulse pounded as she stepped away, deep green eyes opening to stare at you.

"Wait..." Your voice faltered, breath catching as everything crashed together at once. "You're, like... very... important," you frowned, confused about where you were going with that, the words coming out of your mouth not necessarily the ones you expected. "I mean, like... I love... that you're interested in me. Only me." You finished, weaker than what you almost said. 

Safer.

Natasha's eyes searched your face, like she was trying to find something you were not saying.

She shifted closer, wrapping her arms around your neck.

"Well, I thought that was pretty clear already, but I'm very much only interested in you, silly." She breathed out against your lips.

The words were steady and certain, making the hair at your nape raise again. But they did not quite settle the storm in your chest, even as your hands settled on her waist, heavy eyelids blinking to look at her.

Natasha kissed you again, softer this time, lingering. 

Her hands came up to cup your face, thumbs slowly brushing over the apples of your cheeks like she was memorizing them.

"Next time," she whispered, smiling softly. "Maybe try using words a little better before jumping to conclusions."

You huffed a small, humorless laugh. 

"Yeah. I’ll work on that, kinda hard after those insane drinks Clint wanted me to try, though..." You grumbled, staring into her green pools that lulled you closer, limbs melting into her.

And somehow you still wanted more.

Greedy and pathetic and hopelessly in love. The realization hit so hard it nearly stole your breath - well, that and her tongue tracing over your lips.

If only she knew the truth, though...

If only you could actually do that.

Said the words, the right ones, the real ones.

But instead, they stayed where they had been for weeks now, caught in your throat.

Unsaid.

⧗

Natasha woke you with a sound that did not belong in her bedroom.

Not a scream - Natasha Romanoff did not scream - but something very close to it. It sounded like a strangled inhale, like she surfaced too fast from underwater and forgot how lungs worked.

Your eyes snapped open instantly.

The room was dark except for the thin blue glow of the digital clock on the nightstand showing 3:13 AM.

Beside you, Natasha was rigid. Not sitting up, not moving, not one arm above her head like you caught her doing before. Just frozen flat on her back, chest heaving in shallow and uncontrolled breaths that were trying very hard not to become panicked.

"Nat?"

You pushed yourself up on one elbow when no response came from her, sleep dissolving immediately from your brain. The sheets were tangled around her legs, a sheen of sweat glinted across the exposed skin of her throat. Her hands were fisted at her sides so tight you could see the tendons straining.

"Natasha." You murmured, a little softer this time as you shifted closer, still careful, because you had learned to be careful with her.

Her eyelids finally fluttered open at the movemnt, eyes cutting toward you, green and glassy in the dark - but they did not really see you yet. They were still trapped somewhere else entirely, something years away from this room. The Red Room. A mission gone wrong. Or some memory she will never tell you about. There were ghosts living behind Natasha’s eyes sometimes. You knew that much.

And tonight they followed her into bed.

Your chest ached immediately - not because she looked broken, Natasha never looked broken, she looked exhausted like she had spent the last several hours fighting ghosts no one else could see.

"Oh, honey." The endearment slipped out before you could stop it and something in her expression cracked.

Not dramatically, because Natasha never broke dramatically either. But you saw it, that tiny flicker of exhaustion beneath the mask she was trying to pull back into place - tonight she was not fast enough. Tonight you caught the crack before the mask could close.

"’m fine..." She murmured automatically, her voice rough.

You almost scoffed at the lie, except there was nothing funny about the way her breathing still stuttered every few seconds.

"Yeah," you murmured instead, giving her a look. "Clearly."

Normally she would smirk at that. Throw something sarcastic back. Deflect. Tonight she just closed her eyes briefly like she was too worn out to actually pretend and let out a low sigh.

You hesitated for only half a second before reaching for her. That hesitation did not exist before. In the beginning, you touched Natasha carefully because you did not know if she wanted it. Now you hesitated because sometimes nightmares left her halfway feral with adrenaline and instinct. Once, months ago, she woke up swinging.

She cried afterward. 

Not visibly, but her hands shook while she checked your jaw for bruising, and she refused to look at you for the rest of the night and following day so you would not be able to see her glassy eyes.

You remembered holding her face and saying, "Nat, hey, it’s okay, it was an accident." You remembered her whispering, horrified, "I could’ve hurt you." As if she had not spent every day since trying to make up for it with hands gentler than ever before.

Tonight, though, the second your fingers brushed her wrist, she grabbed you. Hard.

Never enough to hurt, just enough to reveal how desperately she needed the contact.

Your breath caught.

Natasha turned into you so quickly, almost hopelessly, and pressed into you like she could not get close enough fast enough. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other hooked under your shoulder, and then she was burying her face against your neck with a shuddering exhale.

Natasha never clinged before.

Your heart practically fractured on the spot.

"Okay," you whispered immediately, wrapping both arms around her. "Okay, I’ve got you."

She said nothing, not that you expected her to talk right now, but her grip tightened.

You could feel the aftermath of the nightmare in the tension running through her body. Every muscle pulled taut. Every breath measured too carefully.

You started rubbing slow circles against her back, carefully laying back against the mattress, thumbs pressing gently into her sides. It took a while before she melted even a little.

"You wanna talk about it?" You asked quietly, lips brushing her hairline.

You only received a tiny shake of her head against your throat in answer.

"Okay. That’s okay too."

Another few minutes passed in silence. Outside the compound windows, rain tapped very softly against the glass - a reminder that the world kept on moving in small, ordinary ways while you held one of the deadliest women on the planet together with your bare hands.

The thought would almost be funny if it did not feel so devastatingly tender.

Natasha shifted closer even though you did not think that was physically possible. One of her legs slid between yours, anchoring herself there. Her fingers curled into the back of your sleep shirt like she was afraid you would disappear if she let go.

Your throat tightened unexpectedly, lips pursing. Most people only knew the polished version of Natasha Romanoff. The smirks. The sharp edges. The glares. The dry humor. The controlled, untouchable elegance.

The Avenger.

The spy.

The weapon.

But you knew this version too.

The one who woke up shaking. The one who hoarded affection like she did not know when it would be taken away again. The one who pretended she was not tired right up until she fell asleep on your shoulder. The one who quietly moved closer whenever a room became too crowded. The one who checked that you got home safely even when she was halfway across the world. The one currently curled against your chest as if your heartbeat was the only thing keeping the nightmares away.

The one who pretended she did not need anyone while silently gravitating toward you over and over and over.

You planted a kiss onto her head, nose resting there as your lips stayed pressed on her temple. Immediately, impossibly, she softened further like that single gesture undid another knot inside her.

Your chest hurt so badly with it that you almost said it right then.

The three words rose so fast it scared you.

You stopped yourself so abruptly your breath almost caught audibly.

Natasha did not notice. Or if she did, she did not question it.

She was still tucked against you, eyes closed now, breathing gradually evening out while your heart absolutely lost its mind inside your ribcage.

Because holy shit.

Holy shit. You nearly blurred it out.

Again.

Panic bloomed instantly.

Not because it was not true.

God, that was part of the problem. It was too true. Because loving Natasha was not a choice you made anymore - it had never been your choice. It had become instinct. As natural as breathing, as inevitable as gravity. You loved all of her. The legend. The weapon. The woman.

Especially the woman.

You stared at the ceiling, fingers still moving gently through her hair while your thoughts spiraled violently out of control.

This was not the moment.

Actually, this would be the worst possible moment, if you thought about it.

She just had a nightmare. She was vulnerable and exhausted and clinging to you like you were the only solid thing in the world right now. Saying it now would be... unfair.

The realization landed heavy in your stomach - it would be unfair to put that on her now.

Natasha had spent her whole life with people taking advantage of vulnerability. Twisting soft moments into leverage. Making affection transactional.

You knew that.

You knew her.

The last thing you ever wanted was for her to think your comfort came with strings attached. Like she owed you something because she let herself need you tonight.

Your eyes stung suddenly.

God. And what if she panicked?

Not because she did not care about you - you knew she did by now, even if neither of you said it out loud - but because love was different.

Love was permanence.

Love was trust.

Love was something Natasha approached like a wounded animal approached an open hand: cautiously, suspiciously, waiting for the trap.

You could still hear her voice from months ago, quiet and strangely raw after a mission in God knew where left both of you bleeding in a safehouse bathroom.

"I’m not good at this."

You had looked up from where she was bandaging your ribs, eyebrows pulling together. 

"Stichting me up? Could have told me before I let you put your hands on me, huh."

"No, just... this," she had muttered with a roll of her eyes, making a gesture with her free hand between the two of you. "All of it."

Relationships, she had meant.

Feelings.

You remembered smiling softly. 

"Well, good thing you don’t have to be good at it, then."

Natasha had stared at you for a long moment like that answer genuinely confused her.

Sometimes you thought she was waiting for you to realize she was impossible to love.

The horrifying thing was that loving her was the easiest thing you had ever done.

You looked down at her now, at the red hair spilling across your shoulder. At the tiny crease still lingering between her brows even in sleep. Her plump lips partially parted, puffing air on your shirt.

At the way she unconsciously seeked your warmth even while asleep, fingers twitching against your back every few seconds just to make sure you were still there.

Your entire body ached with affection.

You wanted to say it so badly.

You wanted to whisper it into her hair and hold her until she believed it.

You wanted to tell her she was loved so fiercely and gently and without condition that it even terrified you sometimes.

But fear curled sharp beneath the longing.

Because what if she was not ready?

What if hearing it made her... retreat?

What if it changed this - whatever beautiful fragile thing the two of you had built together for months - into something frightened and uncertain?

Natasha did not do love.

Or at least she thought she did not, or to the very least act like she could not.

You had seen evidence of that belief everywhere: in the way she - most of the time - deflected sincerity with humor, in the way she usually went still when someone cared too openly, in the way she looked almost startled every time you chose her again.

As if she was still waiting for the moment you would not.

You could survive not saying it. You would rather swallow these feelings for another year than risk making her think she owed you an answer tonight, an answer given at three in the morning with tears still trapped behind her eyes would not really be an answer at all. However, you were not sure you could survive watching her pull away from you. Not over something like that. Not over timing. Not over words. So you swallowed the words down hard enough it hurt. And instead tightened your arms around her slightly and pressed another kiss into her red hair. Natasha made a small sound low in her throat. Contentment? Trust?

"You’re okay..." You whispered carefully.

Not I love you.

Even though every inch of you meant it.

"You’re safe. I’ve got you."

Her breathing evened out completely after a few minutes.

Eventually, exhaustion dragged at your own eyes again, but sleep came slowly. You mostly just laid there holding her, listening to the rain and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your chest.

You stayed. That was all. Stayed through the nightmares. Stayed through the sharp edges. Stayed through the parts of her she thought were too damaged to be loved.

You buried your face briefly in her hair, eyes burning.

"I’m here." You whispered.

Always, you almost added. But that was dangerously close to the other thing.

So instead you held her tighter and let the words live silently inside your chest a little longer.

⧗

You smiled against her insistent lips, blindly reaching for the handle of the door that was digging into your back, your other arm lazily draped around her shoulders.

Natasha chuckled into the kiss, breaking away just enough to push the door open with her hip.

She stepped inside first, pulling you along by your shirt collar before reconnecting your lips together the second the door of her quarters was closed behind you.

"Someone's eager." You mumbled between kisses, both arms wrapping fully around her neck now, back arching as you felt her warm hands on your hips.

Natasha bit your lower lip gently, hands sliding under the fabric of your shirt to press her burning palms against the shivering and bare skin of your back.

"Almost like it's been weeks or something." She breathed out, giving you a heated, amused look.

You shook your head, fingertips brushing along the loose curls of her braid. You tilted your face enough to look down at her cat who circled your ankles, purring at the contact. Liho meowed loudly at the lack of acknowledgement from both your parts, rubbing against Natasha's legs next.

The redhead ignored her, too busy nipping at your jaw instead, one of her hands tugging on the loop of your pants to bring you closer to her.

"She might be hungry..." You hummed, tilting your face back to give her more room, eyelids fluttering as you let your feet follow her wherever she was taking you.

Natasha grunted against your skin at your words, ignoring Liho entirely.

"She's always hungry," she muttered before pulling you in another heated kiss, hands gripping your hips as she walked backwards toward the door of her bedroom. "Plus, she already ate. Now's my turn." She smirked as she pulled you inside the room instead, closing the door before the black cat could enter.

"You’re so rude," you chuckled, leaning against the door, your hands feeling up her arms that quickly wrapped around you, refusing to let you go too far. "Slamming the door right into her face like that..."

Natasha scoffed, rolling her eyes as she resumed her kisses along your jaw.

"Trust me you're not gonna want an audience," she said, lips hot on the hollow of your throat. "Know what else's rude?" Natasha asked, teeth grazing your skin, her eyes sparkling as goosebumps followed.

"Mhm, what?" You panted, already feeling yourself worked up, thighs pressed together for a semblance of relief, hands finding purchase at her toned shoulders.

Natasha smirked, pressing a slow kiss to your collarbone before biting down lightly, then soothing it with her tongue.

"You," she whispered against your skin, hands sliding lower. "You got no idea what you've been doing to me all day, huh? I couldn't stop thinking about you. During that meeting too," she grunted, nose nudging the collar of your shirt as far as possible. "Imagine that? Me? Distracted?"

"Well, I didn't do anything." You grinned, fingers slipping into her braid, purposely messing it up as you brought her lips back to yours.

Natasha groaned as you ruined her carefully braided hair - she hated when you did that. But she kissed you back anyway, hands fumbling and pushing fabric off your shoulders in a hurry.

"Liar," she accused between breaths. "You wore those clothes on purpose."

"My clothes? What about them?" You breathed out, helping her out of her own top.

Natasha kicked her shirt to the side, pressing flush against you, skin on skin now. 

"That shirt," she said, voice rough as her fingers traced the waistband of your pants. "That clings like that? Your chest looked heavenly. Called my name." Natasha exhaled sharply through her nose before claiming your mouth again with a low whine of frustration as she tried to push your pants as far as she could.

You could not help but let out a shaky moan, kicking your shoes and jeans off to finish the job, fingers curling in her hair.

"I think you're losing your mind if you hear my tits talking to you." You chuckled against her lips, walking her to her bed, mouths still sharing the same oxygen.

Natasha fell onto the bed with you, laughing into your kiss - actually laughing, something rare and light that made your inside flutter so violently your lips parted against hers.

"Oh, your tits definitely talk," she teased back against your mouth before letting her mouth trail lower once you were fully straddling her lap. "They say 'touch me, Natasha' all day. Can hear them through all these walls and layers." 

One of her hands slid up to cup your breasts through the thin fabric of your bra, her other one pressing down your lower back to make you arch it.

"You're such a dork." You grunted, hips rolling on her lap, your hand not in her hair working on her bra, letting it pool between you like a final motion. Natasha let out a small laugh, but the sound turned into a breathy moan she tried to immediately swallow as your hips rolled against her lap again.

Her hands immediately reached behind you to take off the last piece of fabric hiding your silky skin from her gaze, eyes sparkling as the sight of your bare chest finally greeting her.

"Well hello, ladies. Missed you too." Natasha smirked, ignoring both the amused and bewildered look you sent her as she leaned down to press a light kiss on your sternum, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts until your back arched against her on its own this time.

You let out a chuckle, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you gripped her toned arm, your fingers still tangled in her head guiding her face lower. Natasha did not need guiding, she was already moving down - her lips trailing fire over your sternum, nipping gently at the soft skin of your chest before her teeth grazed the swell of your breast. Her hands trailed lower, feeling your soft sides and committing it all back to memories.

"Sorry, I might be delirious," she murmured, voice muffled against your skin as she pressed warm kisses over your chest. "Like I said, s'been weeks." 

"Yeah..." You breathed out, eyelids heavy as you stared down at her. "...acting like you’ve been through withdrawal or something." You teased, though your chuckle died in your throat as her teeth grazed your sensitive skin in clear retaliation, piercing green irises looking up at you.

Natasha smirked against your skin before finally taking one of your nipples into her mouth, tongue swirling around it, slowly at first, teasingly. She could feel the way you tensed beneath her, how your breath hitched and fingers curled tighter in her hair. She hummed approvingly around the peak before sucking gently. Your hips jerked into her lap involuntarily as a reaction to her ministrations. Your teeth sank into your lower lip, breaths turning heavy as you tried to contain yourself even though her actions along with the faint friction happening between your thighs was making you dizzy with want for more.

Natasha immediately noticed the way you moved against her - subtle, involuntary, but so telling. She quickly switched to your other breast, lavishing it with the same attention while one of her hands slid down your stomach and over your hipbone, tugging down the last fabric clinging to your body.

You let her roll you over and watched as she dragged your panties off your legs, her burning fingertips grazing your skin. You shifted on your elbows, giving her a heated look as you stopped her from laying back with a firm foot on her toned stomach.

The redhead frowned, confusion clouding her gaze for a second.

"Nuh uh, you're wearing far too many clothes." You smirked, licking your suddenly dry lips.

Natasha arched a brow, but the smirk on her lips grew as she understood your demand. Without hesitation, she took a step back. Her buttons popped open in record time as she kicked off the remnants of her clothes. She grabbed your extended leg with one hand, squeezing your calf as she drew closer.

"Better now?" She drawled in a hoarse tone that groped at your belly with a small smile on her face, her lips trailing over the inside of your leg, eyes never leaving your face.

You nodded slowly, your gaze never leaving her mouth as you tried your hardest not to melt too visibly under her ministrations. But it was harder said than done when your whole being filled with anticipation, your breath coming in faster before you could take the reins over it.

Natasha took her sweet time - kissing up your inner thigh, slow and deliberate, letting the warmth of her mouth linger on your skin. She kept going until her nose bumped the apex of your thigh before finally reaching her destination, the first contact making every touch she did before small compared to the way her tongue eagerly seeked you out. Her eyelids fluttered for a second, a small sound escaping her parted lips as your grip in her hair resumed before tightening.

"Fuck-" You gasped, thighs already starting to tremble on either side of her head. "I almost forgot..." You stopped yourself, swallowing hard as her eyes snapped back to yours, her lips wrapping around your clit as she shot you a quick wink. "...how good you were at that." You finished in another gasp, letting the back of your head hit the mattress as you tried to keep the sounds in.

Natasha smirked - actually smirked, you could feel it against your folds - before diving back in with renewed focus. She alternated between slow, teasing licks and firm suction, like she had all the time in the world to relearn you - her tongue swirling expertly while one hand gripped your hip to keep you from bucking too much. The other slid up your stomach to pinch a nipple - multitasking like the terrifyingly efficient woman that she was.

"Inside-" You panted, back slightly arching off the bed while the hand not in her hair gripped the one that she rested on your chest for dear life, eyebrows furrowing as you focused on the pleasure she was making you feel. "Need you inside, Nat."

The redhead, your redhead, did not hesitate or drawled it longer than you thought she would - perhaps she did miss you as much as she claimed to - and slipped two fingers into you without warning, curling them just right on the first try like she knew your body better than her own. You rewarded her with a shaky gasp, unforgiving warmth spreading through you like wildfire.

Her tongue kept working your clit in perfect rhythm with her thrusting fingers, adding pressure exactly where it mattered. The wet sounds were loud in the quiet room, mixing with your gasps and Natasha's soft hums of approval against you as she stared at your body that chased the feeling she was giving you. And suddenly it was too much. Too many feelings. Natasha was all around you, everywhere - outside and inside. Her insistent hands, her heavy gaze fixed on you that you could not see but felt all the same, the scent surrounding the two of you. It was too much and you were right there, with the words ready to claw themselves out your chest and throat to finally slip past your parted lips. 

You let go of her hair immediately as a semblance of dangerous clarity reached you, your hand pressing flat against your parted mouth. And what if you stopped yourself from breathing that way? At least the words were going down with you, and you would not blur them out of the blue, in the middle of sex, mind you.

You let out a trembling moan, thighs starting to shake as you bit down the inside of your fingers.

Natasha felt the exact moment you tensed, the way your body coiled like a spring ready to snap. She doubled down with eyebrows furrowed in focus, keeping the pace of her fingers and curling them while her tongue pressed hard against your clit. Your muffled moan only spurred her on, she always loved making you fall apart beneath her. Loved being the reason for that desperate grip on yourself, for those half bitten-off sounds she could practically taste in the air between you two. And then here you were, your thigh jerking up by reflex as your walls spasmed around her fingers, sucking them in. 

She pulled back and took a deep, ragged breath, eyes traveling languidly over the faint sheen of sweat over your curves.

You opened your eyes again, face tilted to the side as you lazily reached for her with your hand, pushing the babyhair off her forehead with a faint, delirious smile on your face.

Natasha leaned into your touch, her damp lips curling as she kissed the palm of your hand. Her fingers, still glistening, brushed over your stomach as she crawled up to hover above you, arms caging either side of your head. She pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth first, then finally claimed it properly - slow and deep and so tender compared to what had just happened moments ago.

It made your toes curl.

"I love-" You stopped yourself just in time, gulping down, teeth grazing your lips as you tried to find something else to say. Something else than what you really wanted. Something that you might actually not regret saying. "I love, love when you do that." You finished in a lower tone, heavy eyes searching her face.

Natasha studied you, those green eyes always seeing too much, like she could read the hesitation in your chest, the words that did not make it out.

But she just kissed you again, slower this time, letting you taste the proof of your arousal clinging to her. Her hand came up to cradle your jaw as her thumb stroked your cheekbone gently, affectionate and warm.

"Yeah, I gathered as much." She grinned smugly against your lips.

You chuckled, pushing her away with one firm hand on her sternum before suddenly flipping both of you over, your body pinning her down on the mattress. You tried not to react too visibly as her hands immediately grabbed your hips by pure reflex.

"You know I don't like when you look too smug." You grunted, playfully rolling your pelvis into her lap, one eyebrow raised pointedly.

Natasha blinked up at you, almost surprised for once, her usually controlled expression flickering with something unreadable as your weight settled over her. A slow smirk curled on her lips, her hands traveling lower until she was cupping your buttcheeks. 

"Well hello," she breathed out, tilting her chin to press a kiss to your jaw. "Missed those too." She smirked, her hands squeezing the flesh, a small chuckle escaping her as the involuntary movement it caused you to make.

"Oh, shut up." You laughed, your hands cupping her face to pull her into a firm kiss.

Because if there was one thing you were good at, it was distracting you from telling too much. And what could be a better distraction than those plump lips, stealing all possible breath from you until you could not speak anymore.

⧗

It was quiet in the compound.

Not the half-expected, tense, waiting kind of quiet that came after a mission or before one, but something softer, lived-in... And an atmosphere that could only prevail in the late hours of the day, one that only night owls could understand.

Most of the lights were off, the common areas were empty. And you were sitting on one of the couches, half-curled into the corner, a blanket draped over your legs more out of habit than actual need. There was a book open in your lap, but you had not turned the page in... well, a while now.

You were not reading. You had not been for the past twenty minutes. Or maybe even longer. Your gaze kept drifting.

To the doorway. To the window. To the hallway.

You did not know exactly when she got back.

You just knew she did.

You heard the faint echo of a quinjet followed by footsteps earlier. The soft click of a door. The almost imperceptible shift in the atmosphere that always seemed to follow her presence - like something settled into place because she was back in your orbit.

You did not go to her. Not immediately. You had an unspoken agreement whenever one of you would return from solo missions, you would not go looking for the one who had just come back. It was up to her to come find the other if felt the need. Otherwise, you had to give the other time and space - enough to take a shower and put herself together while wiping away all the blood that stained the skin - before either of you could face the world again as an acceptable person.

So, you told yourself you would give her time, like always. Let her decompress. Shower, change, whatever she needed.

Totally normal.

Totally reasonable.

And it definitely did not end up with you pacing your own thoughts into the ground for what had to be the past half hour.

You exhaled slowly, dragging your eyes back down to the book you grabbed again.

You froze in the middle of a mess of words you surely must have tried to read before as soft footsteps echoed in the hallway. They were quiet - of course they were - but you recognize them anyway. Measured and controlled in the way that let you know she was letting you hear her approach.

Your heart picked up instantly.

Which was very stupid. It was just her.

Just Natasha.

The footsteps stopped right behind you.

You did not turn around right away, but you did not even know why. Maybe because if you did, this became real - that aching missing feeling whenever she was not near you. The words that had been sitting in your chest for weeks now, building and building and building until it felt like they were going to spill out whether you wanted it to or not.

"Your book’s upside down."

You blinked, looking down with a frown.

It was.

"...I knew that." You mutter, flipping it to the side quickly.

There was a soft sound behind you, something between a breath and the ghost of a laugh. You finally turned. And there she was. Clean now, changed too, her hair still slightly damp, falling loose around her shoulders. She was dressed in comfortable clothes, like she had already shed the mission and stepped back into something more... normal.

Her eyes were on you before they flicked to the empty mugs sprawled on the small table in front of you, eyebrows raising faintly.

"You’ve been sitting here for a while." She noted.

You shrugged, aiming for casualness to buy yourself more time on your emotions. 

"Yeah. It’s a couch. That’s kind of what they’re for."

"Mhm." Natasha did not move closer, did not sit down next to you despite the empty place, she simply stood there, watching you. Like she was trying to figure something out.

You shifted slightly under the weight of it.

"What?"

"You’re weird again." Natasha tilted her head just a fraction. 

Your eyebrows shot up. 

"What!? Me? I’m not weird. What do you mean?"

"Yeah, you are," she replied simply with a scoff, like it was painfully obvious. "You keep almost saying something for weeks now."

Your stomach dropped, colors draining from your face.

Oh.

Oh, God, no.

You let out a short, awkward laugh, shaking your head. 

"I don’t... what are you talking about?"

Natasha did not seem to buy it, not even a little, as she arched an unimpressed eyebrow in your direction.

"I’ve seen you do it," she continued, stepping a little closer now, her voice quieter but more certain. "You can’t lie to me, you know?"

You looked away, suddenly very interested in a nonexistent wrinkle in the blanket. 

"I really don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re imagining things."

"I’m not."

"You might be."

"I’m not." She repeated, a little firmer this time.

You huffed a breath, rubbing the back of your book that laid on your side, upside down. 

"Okay, even if I were, hypothetically, almost saying something... it’s probably not even important."

Natasha stepped closer, close enough now that you could feel the shift in the air between you as she leaned into your space.

"It is, though." She said, lips twitching.

You shook your head, letting out a chuckle. 

"Nat-"

"Come on, just say it." The words landed softly, like a request. But solid with no room to dodge, no room to deflect anymore. 

You swallowed hard, your pulse picking up again.

"This is a bad idea." You muttered, mostly to yourself, looking up at her with almost pleading eyes.

"Why?" She frowned.

Because you might ruin everything.

Because she might not say it back.

Because what you have right now is good and safe and enough-

"Because..." You started, before stopping. You held your breath, expecting... something. But Natasha did not move. She did not push. She just waited. And somehow, that was worse.

"You’re not gonna let this go, are you?" You let out a shaky breath, running a hand through your hair in a nervous movement. 

"No."

Of course not.

You glanced up at her, she was closer than you realized. Her expression was not guarded, not like it usually would be with... anyone else. Anyone else but you. There was something open there, she let you see it, decipher it like it was yours to. She was curious. Maybe even a little cautious. Like she knew this mattered.

Your chest tightened.

God.

This was it then. This was the moment you had been avoiding for weeks.

You were sure you could still back out. Say something else, make a joke, deflect, kiss her until you were both too distracted to remember the discussion at hand. You had done it before. You could do it again.

But you looked at her now.

At the way she was standing there, waiting. At the way she was clearly not letting it go this time. At the way she came to you without any mask on.

The faint dampness still lingering in her hair, the patience in her eyes, the way she had not pushed you once - just waited, as if she trusted you to get there eventually.

And God.

Maybe that was what finally did it, because something in your chest just settled.

You exhaled slowly. Because the truth was the truth. The truth was painful to hold in. The truth was choking you alive. Perhaps it was killing you more to keep it in than scream it at her. Because the truth was the truth and it was inevitable - even though you tried to run away from it. It would always come back to here and now, it would always come back to her.

"I love you." The words left your mouth in an exhale before you could stop them, like they almost did too many times to count before.

You froze immediately as your brain caught up, your heart slamming hard against your ribs, every instinct screaming at you to take it back, to say something else. Anything.

But Natasha just... looked at you.

And for a split second, panic spiked, until a faint breath escaped her.

"Oh."

You blinked, your entire body went tense. The sound was not disappointed, it did not sound uncertain either. If anything, it sounded fond. Almost helpless. 

And you were fucking lost.

"Oh?" You echoed, suddenly very aware of how exposed you were right now despite the blanket covering your clothes. "That’s-well, okay. Cool. Good. Great response. I-I actually really love that for me," you started to ramble, because of course you were - already half-turning away like maybe you could just physically remove yourself from the situation. "I mean, not that you have to say anything back, because you don’t. I just, well, clearly picked a great time to-"

"No, no, I just... was expecting something else," Natasha replied, lips twitching. "I mean, I already knew that."

You stopped before fully turning back now, elbows planted on the back of the couch as you caught up with her words.

"...What?"

Natasha smirked, something softer in her eyes now.

"I know." She repeated, like she knew you needed to hear the words again.

"You know, what? You knew? Since when?"

"A while." She shrugged slightly, pinching her lips together to hold the laugh in.

"A while?" You repeated, incredulous. "Natasha, I’ve been internally losing my fucking mind over this for weeks, actual weeks-"

"Yeah, I noticed." She scoffed, reaching for one of your hands.

"-and you just knew!?"

"Well, yes. I knew you loved me."

You stared at her.

Because that was... That was so unbelievably her.

"Oh my God, you are actually unbelievable." You muttered, dragging your free hand down your face.

There was a faint flicker of amusement at the corner of her mouth as she stepped closer, fingers brushing hair away from your eyes so she could look into them.

"I love you too, by the way," she shrugged, lips twitching into a smirk. "In case you didn’t know."

You stared up at her, breath half caught in your throat. She loved you.

Of course she did.

The evidence had been everywhere.

You had just been too terrified to trust it.

"...You do?" You asked, because apparently your brain had fully stopped functioning as needed to hear things more than one time.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. 

"I just said that, didn’t I?"

"Yeah, I know, I just-" You let out a short, breathless laugh, shaking your head. "You could’ve, I don’t know, mentioned that before I spent months spiraling over it."

She tilted her head slightly, narrowing her eyes. 

"Well, you could’ve said it sooner.”

You stared at her, lips parted.

"...You’re really turning this around on me right now?"

"Mhm hm."

You huffed out another laugh, softer this time, something in your chest finally loosening after weeks of tension as she leaned in enough to press her smile against yours.