Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This particular evening had started the same way others had done, and the same way many would to come, Natasha was sure. An Avengers Level Threat, Fury had called it. In truth, she wasn't so sure what was going on - at least not by the end of it. It had started with surveying the area with Steve and the others, trying to figure out what was going to strike and when as she returned to her room and sank heavily down on her bed, unzipping her bodysuit. Another one completely ruined.
With a moment's thought, she picked up her phone. Only a few numbers were actually on it, so it didn't take long to find the contact named Yelena. A couple of clicks, and the phone began to ring. A few rings...

"Hey, Avenger."

"Hey, best sister ever. Got time?" Something rustled on the other end of the phone.

"Sure, I'm not doing anything. Saw you on the news though! Is that what you want to talk about?"

"Yeah. That cool?"

"Of course it's 'cool'! You're my sister, you can talk to me about anything."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

"So what even happened over there?"

"I'm not even sure I know for definite. Something about some rogue scientist creating giant man-eating rats, I think?" the black skintight suit slid down over her shoulders, revealing her pale skin littered with bruises and scrapes.

"Man-eating rats? It looked like total chaos."

"It was total chaos." she winced softly as the fabric dug into a bruise around her middle.

"You get hurt? Chaos is a pretty good way to die."

"Scrapes and bruises, you know how it is."

"Tell that shield or whatever it is now to value you more! Black Widows aren't all that common anymore."

"Ha! Like they'd listen. People are nervous even having me on the team." the suit came down over her thighs, revealing yet more scrapes and bruises. Unsurprised, she took it off completely, kicking it away from her feet.

"What, as opposed to the Hulk or Thor? You're human, Natasha." she could hear now that Yelena was cooking. Any sane person would be willing to bet it was macaroni and cheese with hot sauce. 

"I know I'm human. Hell, I doubt Thor's banged up like this." she padded over to her wardrobe to pick out something comfortable, holding the phone in her hand and giving a soft laugh as she thought back a little more. "Steve looked like he was gonna have a heart attack. It can't be fair, putting an old man out in the field like that." red hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned down to pick out a baggy shirt, leggings, and matching black underwear. Following the unceremonious throwing of her clothes at the bed; she crossed into the bathroom to collect some disinfectant and painkillers. 

"Steve. You like him, don't you?" Natasha scoffed.

"He's my friend, of course I like him."

"No, Barton and Stark are your friends. Your voice sounds different when you talk about Rogers." she rolled her eyes. "Hey! I felt you rolling your eyes at me!"

"I tolerate him then." her sister laughed. 

"Sure you do! Are you feeling better now?" 

"Yeah. Thank you for this, Yelena." 

"Any time. I love you, sis."

"Love you too. So, what are you up to?" A small glass of water took the painkillers down as she gingerly made her way back to the bed so that she could start cleaning all the scrapes she could reach. Thankfully nothing was too bad and she hadn't needed stitches, but that didn't stop her from looking like some kind of black and blue modern art canvas. 

"The usual, being hired, killing people, waiting on that invite for the avengers."

"What, you think Clint's gonna come rescue you?" they laughed in unison at their little joke. "Seriously though, what have you been doing?"

"I've taken up sewing! I love the pockets on my jacket so much, now I can add pockets to anything!"

"I ought to send you some of my suits. Stupid things don't ever have pockets."

"You can if you want, you know! I've had a lot of practice. You can never have too many pockets! They're so handy." 

Hearing Yelena sound happy made her smile. It sounded like she was getting her bearings again. Relearning how to operate was something they were both sort of having to get used to. Everything was different after the blip, and bringing everyone back. And yet, the world was continuing to change. Just as the Avengers had saved it, something else would pop up and put it under threat again. Nothing was simple anymore. Their idle conversation trailed off into company, and following that into nothing at all just as she changed into her new clothes. 

"I'll let you go. We'd better meet up for lunch or something soon."

"That's a great idea! Text me what days you're free, favourite Avenger." 

"I will, speak to you soon- have a good night."

"You too sis. Love you." 

"Love you too." Carefully Natasha drew the breath to whistle to her sister down the phone. To her delight, Yelena whistled back before hanging up the phone.

It was raining now, tapping gently at her window. There was little chance for her to enjoy it before her growling stomach took her attention. That's right, food. Curly fries and dinosaur nuggets would have to do it. She huffed a small laugh at the thought of how Steve would lecture her for this kind of a meal. Steve who she was only thinking about because Yelena mentioned him. Not who she had brought up herself. Not that Steve Grant Rogers. She would go straight to bed after eating, following the pleading of her aching muscles, and think of absolutely nobody at all in this mess the world had become. 

And yet, despite her best efforts, someone came to mind with astounding determination.

Steve... 

Chapter Text

Unsurprisingly, the rain from last night had not subsided. Natasha had very little to do today but some paperwork, no doubt Tony or Fury would remind her. Tony Stark always managed to be invaluable and completely unhelpful at the same time. She hoped it would be Fury to remind her, since they were so close. With a small groan she sat up, letting the cover fall into her lap as soft hair settled over her shoulders.

“You need to stop expecting things to be normal, Nat. This is normal now.” She muttered to herself, heaving her aching frame out of bed, and sliding her feet into slippers. Stretching her arms above her head and yawning, she headed to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. As she passed it, she swiped up a hoodie and pulled it on. Now suitably comfy, the phone on the counter took most of her attention as muscle memory took over making coffee in her favourite mug. Clint had bought it for her one Christmas, it had ‘I love you aunty Nat’ in three distinct handwritings in three different colours from his three children. She loved it; it was the perfect size too. And yet, sometimes it reminded her of a choice that was taken from her. This morning though, she hardly looked at it. 

No sooner had Natasha picked up the phone had it started to ring. Tony Stark. Of course Tony was calling her. For a few tantalising moments, she considered just not answering, letting it ring out. But she knew that would mean some other, far more annoying, far more Tony, means of contact. 

“What.”

“Good morning to you too, Romanov. Just wanted to check in, make sure you’re alive, which you seem to be.”

“Alive and well, just a few scrapes and bruises. You going to remind me about my paperwork or something?”
“In due time, Romanov! In due time. Just doing the mandatory wellness check first.” She could all but see him rolling his eyes behind those ridiculous glasses of his, spinning in his chair and chewing the end of a pen as he asked his questions.

“And here I thought you cared!”

“Less of the sarcasm, recruit.”

“I outrank you.”

“I am… going to allow that.”

“Get on with it.”

The questions were of course quite general. Mental health, physical health, anything the team should know, does she need time off and so on. Finally, the moment came for paperwork.

“Alright, that’s a wrap. Don’t forget your paperwork, and I shall see you soon.”

“Okay, is everyone else alright?”

“Come on Romanov, you know I’m not allowed to disclose anyone else’s answers.”

“That means everyone’s fine. That’s good.”

“They’re all dying to see you. We’re all dying to see you. Myself included.”

“I’m flattered. I’ll come by later today. Need the morning to myself.”

“Bring a bottle, I want to make it a little get together. Celebrate being alive or some shit.”

“Got it. See you later, Stark.”

“In a while, Romanov.”

With that, the phone was put down. A party sounded fun, for most of them. Steve wouldn’t be as lonely in his enforced sobriety, now that Bucky was there to share it with him. But then again, Bucky was getting close with Wilson, and getting that man drunk was a very good way to get anything unsavoury from him. Bucky might have his hands too full to talk to Steve.

“Wait a second, why am I thinking about him? He’s a fully grown fossil and can handle himself.” She shook her head, surprised by herself.

“Natasha you absolutely will not be looking after him.” She shook her head, completely baffled by herself.

Breakfast took the form of a small bowl of chocolate granola and Greek yoghurt, eaten in the middle of her unmade bed on crossed legs, looking absently out of the window. Sam once said ‘everyone’s got a gimmick now'. She had laughed at the time, but now after losing to Thanos, the Blip, dying for a while and coming back to fight Thanos again, she found it be consistently more true as time went slowly on. She could hardly remember what happened at all – and the only other person on the team who even came close to understanding being dead was Tony. He died too, if only for a few hours. Their relationship was stronger for it, and yet she couldn’t quite go to him for comfort when she felt like she didn’t belong.

Often times that fell on Clint’s shoulders. He knew her better than anyone, in some ways better than her own sister. God, that made her feel awful. Her brow furrowed as she thought about what to do, who she might want to go to for advice, if she decided to. Maybe Fury. He was understanding, most of the time.

At least there was a party to look forward to. And Tony said to bring a bottle, maybe vodka. She didn’t have anything in the apartment, she’d have to go and buy some. She looked away from the window to check the time. Mid-morning, no pets, nobody to grab her attention. She could fade back into what used to be normal for a few hours with the television on in the background.

Which is exactly what she did. It wasn’t until at least six that she got back out of bed and shut off the weird documentary about super soldiers she wasn’t listening to, made her bed and got dressed.

Nothing too fancy, nor too comfortable. Matching black underwear that accentuated her figure in a way she truly did love. It wasn’t often that she could stare at herself in the mirror, but wearing that particular ensemble she definitely could. For a reason she could not quite pinpoint, Natasha knew she would need the confidence matching luxury lingerie would give her. By now she had stopped questioning her gut instinct, it had gotten her out of a ridiculous amount of trouble – so why should she stop?

It was half-past by the time she was ready to leave, and seven o’clock when she stopped to buy a bottle of vodka. Good enough quality to drink both as shots and make an array of cocktails with, unsurprisingly covering her bases.

Just as she was pulling up, lo and behold, Steve was too. She cursed.

“If you didn’t wanna see me, you could’ve said.” He chuckled as he walked up with her. After everything, the last place either of them wanted to live was the facility.

“Ha, very funny. I realised I didn’t do my paperwork. Tony's going to kill me.”

Out of nowhere, Tony’s voice blared loudly from a nearby speaker, making them both flinch.

“I heard that, Romanoff. You’ll have to do it before you get too intoxicated.”

“God, Tony! Don’t do that!” He laughed at her protest as the gate unlocked.

“I hate it when he does that...” Steve muttered as he marched alongside her.

“Slow down you giant, I can’t keep up.”

“Sorry, this better?” he slowed his pace so as to not outrun her.

By the time they got into the building, they could hear the party had already started. Everyone was already there, music was playing. Tony’s classics of mostly AC/DC, unsurprisingly. Not that Natasha minded, Tony really did have a good taste in music.

Moments later the two of them found most of the rest of the team, sitting in various places around the room, not a single one without a drink in hand. Bucky was brooding in the corner as he waited for Sam; Clint making silly bets with Thor and Rhodey around a table; Bruce was in deep conversation with Maria, and this time even Peter Parker was allowed to come. As usual, Wanda and Vision were sitting together, talking about nothing, anything and everything all at the same time. Perhaps most surprising was to see Tony in a full discussion with Loki. It wasn’t surprising to see Loki, she knew he had been bought back too if just to reduce Thor’s guilt, it was surprising to see him talking to Tony; and even further, doing so quite calmly.

Evidently, Steve found that just as odd as he was openly staring; of course probably just caught off guard, but Natasha still nudged him.

“You’re staring, old man.”

“Shit, am I?”

“Watch the language, what would your mother say?” she laughed, he chuckled in response.

“Sorry, it just slipped out.”

“Gotta say it is weird though. Loki and Tony… but objectively it does make sense.”

“Yeah… Both crazy smart. Just- “

“One takes the crazy part far more literally than the other.” By now they had wandered over to the bar to place down their contributions. Steve had brought along a case of non-alcoholic beers for anyone who might not be drinking.

She made herself a raspberry vodka fizz and stood near to the bar. Interestingly, Steve didn’t move from her side. He had a bottle of beer in hand, presumably just to feel at home with the others or because he liked the taste – he and Bucky couldn’t get drunk. ‘Don’t speak to him, Nat. You know better. He has other friends.’

“You drinking just to fit in, soldier? Or are you maybe hopeful?” ‘Damn it, Nat.’

“I’m too old for hopeful, Nat. Just feels more like I belong if there’s a bottle in my hand, you know?”

“I do. Not to that extent, but yeah.”

“Nobody ever says they get it when I say that. Are you okay?”

She took a breath, considering dismissing his concern. But maybe… Maybe he would understand. She told herself no, don’t tell him that. He doesn’t need to know. “I’m fine.”

He gave her that stupid scrutinising look, his head slightly tilted, eyes trained on her with an arched brow and a small smile. She bit her lip behind her glass, hoping he didn’t see.

“Are you sure? You can tell me if something’s wrong. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.”

“You’re not my therapist Steve, it’s okay.” She took a sip of her drink. Shit, she probably should’ve eaten something before coming.

“But I am your friend. I’ve been there.”

“You’re a hundred and six, you’ve been everywhere.”

“And also nowhere. I know what it looks like when you don’t recognise the world anymore.”

“Curse you for being so damned observant.” She gave a bitter laugh into her glass as more of its contents disappeared down her throat. Steve was watching her lips as she spoke. “You’re right. I don’t recognise the world anymore. It’s a strange feeling.”

“It’s a feeling I know better than I’d like to.”

“Lonely, isn’t it?” he finally met her eye when she said that. Great sad domes of blue meeting her green.

“Devastatingly. It’s nice to be here, with everyone-“ Steve began.

“But I just feel like I belong in the past.” Natasha finished. In the time that they had been talking, more people had arrived and the party began to pick up more. But over the course of the evening, as couples trailed away into rooms far too quickly for clothes to stay on, and people got far too drunk for any good; Steve didn’t leave her side for even a moment. They talked, and kept talking as alcohol helped her eyes to wander over the body of a man she knew far too well to be surprised. It was no secret that after the Sokovia Accords disaster that the two of them had warmed each other’s beds while in hiding. But that was it. No strings attached. Friends with benefits, if you will. In some ways it was hard to be just friends now. Not when he was being so kind to her and understanding like this. It should be Tony who understood better, knowing what it was like to be dead then pulled back into the world out of nowhere and expected to go back to being a hero as though nothing had happened at all.

Her runaway mind stopped abruptly. Oh. Steve did know what that was like. 

She distracted herself from the devastating realisation by tipping the rest of her drink into her mouth and quickly getting another. ‘I don’t want to think about that right now.’ So she wouldn’t. Not while she felt like she was in the wrong world and just wanted to be distracted. She looked up into his eyes, dark, familiar, and deep as the sea and uttered just three words.

“Steve… Distract me.”

That was all it took. His arm encircled her waist and pulled her flush against him as their lips met as they had done many times before but in a way that still sent sparks down her spine despite how many times she’d done it. The world quickly melted away as he kissed her, softly at first but as she tugged on his belt loops, he delved deeper. Still, the separation came far too soon.

“I think we ought to get a room. Come on, I know a place.” He took her hand and led her up the stairs to her old room, still empty, the door still bearing her name and symbol. It took a while because they kept having to stop and kiss each other again, undoing buttons and untucking shirts as hands wandered.

When he finally opened the door and slammed it shut behind them, Steve held her up against the wall, lifting her thigh up over his hip and sliding her tight, stretchy black dress up to expose more of her skin as he started kissing her neck, lower and lower. Her hands nestled in his hair as her breaths came short and fast into the thick, heavy air surrounding them; just about cresting into pretty moans – the sound of her enjoying just a little foreplay this much made him laugh.

“I think you missed this, Natasha.” He purred as his wandering hands pushed her panties aside just to dip his fingers into her soaking heat.

“God, yes Steve-” her back arched at just the slightest contact. It had been a while, not that she hadn’t delved into self-satisfaction, but nobody could make her feel quite as good as him.

“Tell me how much you want it.” He held all her weight against the wall in one arm while his other hand brushed over her clit in maddeningly slow, light circles.

“Fuck- Steve-” she moaned, clinging to his shoulders as if her life depended on it. “Don’t want, need you-” he pressed just a little more firmly. Just enough to make her choke on her words. “Need you now-”

He couldn’t wait any longer, his own arousal was becoming almost painfully tight in his jeans. Over her own desperate breathing, Natasha could just about catch the unbuckling of his belt, the unzipping of his fly and the shuffle as he pulled them down with his boxers. She definitely didn’t miss it as the fat tip touched against her wetness, spreading it over himself to make the glide easier as he pushed inside slowly, giving a deep groan into her neck and only just resisting biting her perfect, untouched skin. She whined, rolling her hips in desperation for him to move.

She could feel every inch slide out slowly, her tight opening hugging the head refusing to let him pull out entirely. He paused. Took a breath. And slid in again hard, punching strangled moans from both of them at the glorious shockwave of pleasure that reached every inch of their bodies. Her nails dug hard into his shoulders, undoubtedly leaving marks as she gasped out for more.

He didn’t need to be told twice. The pace he set was fast and hard – exactly how she liked it. She would think it was sweet, if her mind wasn’t so fogged with how good it felt. Every thrust made her see stars, made every inch of her skin feel hot as sweat began to form a film over the pair of them. Her sweet, slightly squeaky moans were music to his ears, he chased them harder and faster as her tight, wet hole brought him close to the edge.

“Tell me how good you feel-” he half growled through gritted teeth, into her neck.

“Fuck yes it’s so good- I’m so close yesyes yes-” her words came out broken with the strength of his thrusts and her own desperate whining. Familiar heat pooled in her stomach as her walls clenched down around him. “Please- fuck- don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop-” his hips stuttered as she begged him not to stop. He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. He knocked the breath out of her with every stroke, just the way he knew she liked him to, fingers digging into her hips so hard they would definitely leave bruises he knew she would look at in the mirror and bite her lip for days to come. She tossed her head back as he panted into her neck, her messy moaning and whining reaching a new level as her walls clenched around him even harder, her legs squeezing his hips into hers, helping him bury his length as deep inside her as possible. Her muscles twitched; eyes rolling back with a high-pitched whine as he ripped the orgasm out of her. He wasn’t far behind, spilling his load into her – she could feel every drop, and fuck, she loved it.

Steve held them both there, breathing hard as he regained strength in his legs. At least enough to carry Natasha over to her old bed and strip the rest of their clothes off. She looked up at him with lust in her eyes and a little desperation in her voice.

“Round two?”

“I could do this all night.”

Chapter Text

Natasha awoke in a familiar embrace. The arms of Steve Grant Rogers, holding her close to his almost limitless expanse of bare chest under a light blanket. She was slightly sore in places and felt decidedly sweaty. Not that it was any question as to why, she remembered exactly what had happened; and how much she enjoyed it.

Steve was still sleeping, lips slightly parted, brows furrowed just a little. He was handsome, of course he was, she was sure it must have been part of the super-soldier serum. Surely a regular old human man could never be quite that handsome. He started to smile under her intense stare, giving a soft hum as he woke enough to speak.

“Glaring at me already? Must be morning.” He mumbled, drawing her closer to softly kiss her, jaw to neck – he paused, considering collarbone. An eager hand pulling him in made sure he didn’t for long.

“Glaring?” she laughed. “I wasn’t glaring at you.”

“You have this little expression,” he gave a small grunt as he leaned over her, bringing his kisses lower. “when you’re considering something, it looks a lot like glaring.”

“Of course I do.” She rolled her eyes.

“So,” he smiled into her skin, taking a pause to kiss the scar above her hip. “what were you thinking about?”

“None of your business, Rogers.” Her back started to arch slightly into his touch. “But I’ll admit. this is a good way to wake up, so don’t stop.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He purred, the bed giving a soft creak as he moved for better access to her pelvis, lifting her pale thigh to rest over his broad shoulders.

They hadn’t bothered to put any clothes back on after the previous evening – she could already feel his hot breath against her cunt, already growing wetter with the anticipation. Still he drew out the anticipation, kissing her inner thighs, gradually working in closer with soft, careful movement. Her hands settled in his hair, just as his lips grew agonisingly close- and infuriatingly moved away again as he shifted his hands under her, holding her hips up towards him.

She could swear he licked his lips before finally dragging his tongue up between her folds, drawing a sharp gasp from between her teeth. The first touch was always the best and the worst, a glorious always somehow unexpected touch. His tongue moved in long, broad strokes in no particular direction to begin with – he just wanted to taste her first; but soon set into a wonderfully familiar rhythm. His tongue flat and wide moving side to side, his need solely to please her. His tongue forced hot, sharp breaths from her lungs and delicious cries from her lips; her thighs beginning to shake as they tried to close around his head. Feeling the pressure, he dug his fingers into the swell of her ass, pushing her hips up closer, allowing him to give her more. Desperate, trembling hands pulled at his hair as she moaned, her back arching as heat grew in her, signaling her orgasm coming closer.

“Shit- fuck Steve- so close- don’t stop-“ she choked out the words, hardly able to control her breaths enough to speak. He squeezed her to signal that he understood, readjusted his angle one more time before bringing her to her whining, shaking climax.

After a few moments for Natasha to catch her breath and allow her twitching muscles to settle, Steve sat up with a smirk on his face.

“Coffee?”

She threw the closest pillow at him, still panting just a little. “Coffee sounds great.”

The big blonde idiot laughed as he chucked the pillow back at her before padding off to make two mugs of coffee.

“You said you didn’t do your paperwork, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I haven’t done mine, either. Wondered if you wanted to do it together?”

She paused, just looking at him for a second as she sat up. “Sure, might be easier doing it together.”
“My thoughts exactly. I’ll go and get a copy then.”

“Might want to get dressed before you traumatise Parker.”

He looked down at himself, suddenly aware that he was completely naked, and burst out laughing as he handed Nat her mug. “I’ll tell him I’ve decided to become a nudist.”

“You know what those are? Smart little fossil.” She smirked.

“Hey, I read things!”

“Nudist things, apparently.”

“… That wasn’t a smart response, was it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Will you consider forgetting it while I get the paperwork?”

“Perhaps.” She watched as he pulled his clothes back on from yesterday and headed out to find the office and pick up the mandatory post-mission paperwork.

The facility was a comfortable sort of quiet when Steve padded out of Nat’s room. He was unsure how many people had stayed after the party, but was willing to bet that most people had. Careful not to disturb anyone he made his way up to Nick Fury’s office. It was a given that Fury was intimidating, but ever since Steve had become closer to Natasha, things were even worse.

He found himself gulping before knocking on the office door.

“Who the hell wants me this early in the damned morning? Come in so I can decide who’s dying today.” For a moment Steve genuinely considered running away. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Steve.’ He carefully pushed the door open to Nick Fury lounging in his chair, eating toast with a mug of coffee, one foot on the desk, and an ice pack on his head.

“Damn it, I can’t kill you. Welcome, Cap. What can I do for you? Although I do warn you, I am severely hungover right now.”

“I wanted to find my paperwork from the mission?” He hesitated, then mumbled. “… and Natasha’s.”

Unfortunately for him, despite his hangover, Fury’s hearing was just as good as it always was.

“What?” he took his foot off the desk to replace it with his elbow. “Repeat that.”

“I… um-“

“Spit it out, Soldier.”

“I was hoping to get paperwork for Natasha too?” he spoke quickly, in a minor state of panic. Fury stared him down for a moment, his expression frighteningly unreadable and once more Steve genuinely considered running, when Fury’s face relaxed and he laughed at him.

“Of course you can get her paperwork for her, why didn’t you just say it so I could hear? I’m an old man you know.”

Steve let out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding and laughed just a little.

“Damn it Fury, you can’t do that to a fossil! I could’ve had a heart attack!” the bastard was still laughing as he leaned down to his drawer and pulled out the clearance forms.

“You might be a fossil, but I’m a grumpy ass old man! I can do what I like. So you behave with Romanov now, I might be tempted to take the world’s symbol of hope away yet.” He handed over the paper, still chuckling to himself.

“Thank you, and definitely noted.” He didn’t stick around to be the butt of any other jokes and half ran back to Natasha, bursting roughly through the door and half slamming it behind him.

“Jesus, Steve- give me some warning! I almost threw this at you!” she was still in bed, finishing off her coffee as he sat beside her and offered out a pen.

“I’m sorry, Fury just messed with me.”

She snorted. “Messed with you?”

“Messed with me! Nearly gave me a damned heart attack.”

“Oooh got a bit close to a curse word there, Rogers.”

“Shut up,” he grinned at her, already feeling better. “let’s do this stupid paperwork before Tony has us whacked.”