Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Your body was cold, your armpits clearly sticky with sweat. You felt like you couldn’t quite breathe deeply enough despite the amount of breathing exercises and vocal warm ups you had already done. You fiddled with the fabric of your costume, playing with the pearls embedded into the corset of your gown. You had already gone through it many times that week, hell, you had already been on stage that day, yet it somehow didn’t stop being as nerve racking as it had been the first time. You stood behind the curtains, eyeing the brightly lit stage apprehensively, going over lyrics in your head almost obsessively, slowly starting to whisper them to yourself to make sure your mouth was capable of moving how you wished it to. The low tenor of your coworker’s voice bellowed across the stage as he held the final note ceremoniously until his lungs would no longer allow him to continue. You took one final inhale before taking steady steps onto the stage, the strobe lights nearly enough to blind you despite how used to it you were by then. You got into character, taking one more deep breath before beginning to sing.

You knew the piece by heart, it flowed out of you on its own, requiring little to no conscious effort from you, just like it had during rehearsals and the opening night. Your body moved with the music as you acted out the lyrics you were singing, the gorgeous red gown you were wearing dragging slightly behind you. The song was a dramatic monologue. You sang to the audience, telling them your version of the events that had taken place just a few minutes prior. You could tell from your tone that you were nervous. You could tell it from the way your voice threatened to slip into vibrato when it wasn’t needed. You struggled to get a proper grip on controlling your voice. You didn’t quite know why, but you felt on edge, worn out, and unsteady. You couldn’t see the audience, their ominous dark figures seeming undeniably unresponsive to your display of emotion. You looked at them with your wide eyes, the higher notes demanding a kind of concentration that wouldn’t allow you to think about anything else. You scanned the audience, deciding to make the mass of people less intimidating by choosing an individual to focus on. You had found it to be helpful when stage fright caught you by surprise, your gaze moving down from the higher levels of the theater to the front.

There was a woman there, a woman roughly your age, her grim exterior forcing your attention on her. She looked pained, the gaze of her light eyes weighed down by something that you couldn’t decipher. Your heart suddenly beat a little louder in your chest, from the strain of the high notes or the demeanor of that woman, you couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, you couldn’t stop it, nor could you tear your eyes off her. She had red hair, messy and unkempt, which stood out to you in the mass of nobility who usually dominated the crowds. She looked like she had dirt on her face, maybe even blood, but you weren’t sure if it was simply her hair curling against her cheek. She wore black clothes, almost like a uniform. She could have passed as a security guard, almost, had her uniform not resembled one of a dystopian warrior. You briefly noted the elderly couple beside her dressed in a dress and a sharp suit, their demeanors exuding high status. She didn’t fit in.

Suddenly her eyes met yours, the intensity of her gaze nearly making you choke on your own breath. She looked unwell, tears pooling in her eyes, eyelids red rimmed and raw. Her lips were pink and swollen. She was in distress and very obviously so. You felt the sudden need to help her somehow, yet all you could do was keep singing. You held her gaze, all your energy going on keeping your voice steady. You felt the way your eyes suddenly filled with tears. It happened sometimes when you were truly in character and able to channel the pain that you were communicating to the viewers, but this wasn’t that. You felt helpless, completely captivated by her grim gaze, your powerful voice and the orchestra filling the otherwise silent theater. She wasn’t okay. She was hurt, the look in her eyes longing, pained, troubled. You couldn’t explain it. You didn’t understand.

Your tears spilled over, the final long notes demanding every ounce of focus from you, yet you couldn’t tear your eyes off the red-headed woman. Your body ached, your heart throbbing ruthlessly. She kept looking at you, eyes staring at the other without a single interruption. You allowed your arm to rise up slightly as if to give your lungs more room to produce the desired notes, your other hand finding your stomach to remind yourself to keep your core tight to avoid slipping into your head voice. The final note resonated everywhere around you, on the stage, in the audience, in your head, rising into a crescendo before reaching its end. There was a brief silence, the lights turning off and breaking your eye-contact with the mysterious woman, before booming applause erupted in the audience, filling in the silence to the fullest extent. The lights came back on, the people in the front rows standing up to show their appreciation for you and the rest of the cast that walked onto the stage to receive their praise. You looked frantically around for the red-headed woman, your eyes blurry from tears, head fuzzy from whatever you had just experienced. You couldn’t see her.

“Holy shit, Y/N”, Beatrice whispered discreetly as she came to stand beside you, gently turning you to fully face the audience as you clasped hands. You looked at your cast member, unable to really say a word. “Way to end the show.” Her tone was filled with positive astonishment, so you decided to take her statement as a compliment, hoping that your performance had been up to standard because in all honesty, the only thing you remembered from it was those pained eyes that you had now lost into the crowd. You forced a smile on your face, focusing back on the applauding audience to bow for them.

“Girl, are you okay?” Beatrice asked you once you had managed to get backstage and escape the eyes of the audience. The show was finally over.

“Yeah, why are you asking?” Your hands came to your ear to remove your earrings as you both finally reached the dressing rooms, followed by a few more cast members. You looked at the Christmas decorations that were littered in the already chaotic room filled with makeup and clothing, walking to your designated vanity.

“I don’t know. You seem off.” She let out a slight chuckle. “You really sold me with that final scene.” You gave her an amused smile.

“I’m fine. Just got a little carried away maybe.”

“It was phenomenal”, she sighed, almost as if enamored by you and your talent. She was a few years younger than you and played a much smaller part in the opera, but she was nonetheless your favorite person in the cast. She knew when and how to be quiet. She knew how to give you your space, which you appreciated greatly.

“Thank you. I guess I was feeling it a little more today”, you chuckled. “You did really well yourself.” Beatrice was practically glowing.

“Thank you.” She had a childish glint in her eyes and an intense blush on her face. You knew she admired you greatly. “Care for a cupcake?” She approached your chair with a plastic container of peppermint cupcakes in her arms, offering you the selection.

“Who are these from?” You looked at the packaging for a card of some sorts, the room slowly filling with the rest of your cast members, some chattering enthusiastically, others clearly looking forward to withdrawing socially.

“On the house. It’s a little holiday treat. They brought it over right before the show.”

“Don’t mind if I do”, you hummed, picking one out of the box for yourself. You were starving. Beatrice grabbed one for herself, sitting down beside you as you began to debrief the success of the night. You tried your best to remain present for her as you ate the cupcakes, removing your false eyelashes, jewelry, and hairpins as you talked, but you could barely keep your thoughts in check. The image of that woman returning to the forefront of your mind time and time again. Was she okay? What had happened to her? You stayed in the dressing room for hours, the rest of the people filing out to go recharge themselves for the shows of the following day, but you and Beatrice were in no rush. The lights got turned off aside from the ones on your vanity, gentle Christmas music sounding from the radio that somebody had left on by accident. It sat on a table across the room beside a box of leftover Christmas ornaments. The atmosphere was comforting, so much so that you didn’t even notice the time pass as you munched on the cupcakes that you and Beatrice might have hogged for yourselves.

Even hours later, when you had gone to a very late dinner with Beatrice, you found your mind plagued by the woman’s grim eyes and distraught face. You parted ways with Beatrice around midnight, which made your predicament even worse because she was no longer there to distract you and your compulsive mind. Who was the woman and why had she made such an impact on you? You tossed and turned in bed, unable to wipe the woman’s face from your mind, unable to shake the creeping sense of… something. You couldn’t tell what it was, but it didn’t even matter because regardless of what it had been it was clearly there to stay. You slept poorly, your dreams an odd jumble of stress from the shows you had coming your way paired with the woman and her mysterious presence.

All in all, you were able to recognize how ridiculous of you it was to fixate on such an insignificant detail in the crowd, especially a few shows later when you had caught yourself scanning the audience as if she would have attended the show twice in the span of a few weeks, let alone even the same year. It was more than likely that she would never come see that same performance again. You caught yourself staring intently into the dark crowd time and time again with the woman on the very forefront of your mind. Every time you opened your mouth and began to sing on the stage during the weeks leading up to December, a ghost of that feeling of the opening week would linger in your body. You had never been so captivated by a gaze. You had never witnessed such intensity in anyone’s eyes. You tried to look back on the most meaningful people in your life, your mother, your siblings, your best friend and roommate, your ex who you had thought to be the love of your life yet came up short. You even considered the people who had looked at you with hatred in their eyes, but it couldn’t compare to the red-headed woman.

You quickly became frustrated with the idea of her. What right did she have to look at you with such intensity, with such reverence, with such agony? Who was she to plague your mind so ruthlessly and consistently? You stared daggers ahead of you as you once again waited for your turn behind the curtains to bring the show to its finish. You fiddled with your gown until you realized you were about to rip off the pearls from anger, so you left them alone, focusing your frustration on your cuticles and bottom lip instead. You watched your coworker, Daniel, belt out his last note which functioned as a cue for you to get into character. You took a deep breath, counted to five in your head, like you often did, and headed onto the stage.

You slipped into character with familiar ease, waltzing across the stage in an emotion filled frenzy as your lips formed each of the rapidly sung words, allowing yourself to get fully immersed into your role to escape the thoughts that dominated your mind, thoughts that had been dominating your mind for most of November. You directed your rage at the audience, communicating your character’s frustration through not only the tone of your voice but your expressions and gestures. And then you nearly slipped right out of your character when your eyes found an unexpected figure a few rows off from her designated seat in the audience. You had sworn to yourself that you would stop obsessively checking the seat she had once occupied, yet the habit proved to be harder to shake than you had expected to. However, all of a sudden none of that mattered.

She was there. It had to be her. Either that or you were seeing hallucinations. Had you not been met with such an intense wave of dejavú that her gaze inflicted upon you, you could have disregarded her as someone who merely shared a resemblance with the red-headed woman, but you knew you weren’t mistaken. Your voice nearly faltered, your body stilling for a fraction of a second. It was just enough for the woman to be able to tell that your reaction was her doing. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, but that simply wasn’t an option for you when you were singing. You needed air, filling your lungs in a spastic inhale before continuing to sing, your eyes glued on the woman and her now much more serene features. She looked more put together than the first time. She looked more like she belonged in the audience, her clothing allowing her to blend in.

You felt dizzy, your eyes remaining intently on her so that you would not have the chance to lose her again. She had beautiful features, even more beautiful than you remembered. Her intense eyes held your gaze just the same, a gentle smile pushing up the corners of her mouth. You felt a pull to her, a pure sense of childish curiosity that couldn’t be explained. Holding her gaze, singing to her, felt safe, yet at the same time you felt like falling apart, like you had forgotten to put on your dress before walking onto the stage. There was something in those eyes, something that couldn’t be explained. You felt your eyes fill with tears. You didn’t know why. Once again, it wasn’t part of the act. Her smile widened, your tears spilling over. You couldn’t control it, the anger of your character fading into defeat, into helpless silence as your final note reverberated around you, bouncing from the walls of the theater.

The lights went off, panic rising to your chest. You were going to lose her again. You could barely breathe as you waited patiently for the lights to turn back on, the rest of the cast joining you on stage. You saw the woman stand up among the other people in the audience, your eyes nailed on her as the applause roared into life. You felt your hands being grabbed from either side for the bow that your cast did after every show, but all you could focus on was making sure that she didn’t have the chance to escape. The lights above the seating area turned on, illuminating the crowd better, your brows drawing into a horrified frown when you saw the woman give you a fond smile before dropping her clapping hands and turning to the side to leave the row of seats. You didn’t even realize that you immediately let go of the hands that held your own, rushing off the stage without giving it so much as a single thought. Your heels clicked against the floor as you ran behind the curtains, hurrying out of the backstage area. You nearly stumbled over your feet, but you didn’t let it hinder you, rushing down the hallways to the entrance of the Metropolitan Opera House. There were some people lounging around but since your show happened to be the last one of the night, most of the people in the building were still clapping in the theater.

You looked around frantically, scanning for even a lock of red hair among the people, your feet already carrying you toward the exit. She couldn’t have gone far. You saw that one of the front glass doors slid shut, a lone figure heading for the street. You had no idea what your intention was, why you needed to see her face again, to see more of her, nor did you stop to ponder the matter. You ran after her, pushing the glass door open, your bare arms greeted by an icy gust of wind. It was snowing outside, the large snowflakes floating down from the sky in the darkness of the night, clinging to your hair and dress, melting on your warm skin. Your heels sank into the pillowy layer of snow with each step you took. There were Christmas lights and streetlamps around you, the glistening, fresh snow illuminating your surroundings. For just a moment you felt your heart stop at the magical sight. First snow.

After recovering from your sudden experience of pure awe, you started to look around at the people on the plaza that was in front of the opera house. You scanned them frantically from head to toe in search of your mysterious woman before spotting her walking along the lit-up Lincoln Center fountain toward Broadway. You picked up your speed, your arms gathering your gorgeous gown up and out of the way after nearly falling face down in the snow on your slippery heels, but you managed to keep yourself upright somehow.

“Hey!” You didn’t know why you shouted, a few heads turning your way immediately, but none of them belonged to the person you were after. “Hey!” You wished you would have had something to call her, something specific that would attract her attention. You were getting closer to her, only a dozen feet between you when she glanced back at the sound of your footsteps. Her eyes widened in shock, but she didn’t stop, discreetly picking up her speed.

Fuck, what were you doing? Why were you coming after her? Natasha’s chest squeezed with anxiety. You weren’t supposed to- She wasn’t ready, she felt exposed. She rushed forward in the powdery snow, trying her best not to look like she was indeed running away from you. How could she be such a fool, such a wuss? She should have been able to face you just fine. You were no one. She was no one. It would have meant nothing; two strangers meeting. Except none of that was true. You were everything and meeting you would mean everything. Natasha came to the intersection of Columbus Avenue and Broadway, crossing the former street to Dante Park. She glanced back once more to see you drown momentarily into a small group of people passing by which gave her the perfect opportunity to change direction and continue to Columbus Avenue down south.

You slowed down, noting that the traffic was abnormally slow for the night as you crossed the street, trying to relocate the woman again, but with significantly less enthusiasm. You were shivering, trembling from the cold, your sudden frenzy starting to fizzle out. What were you after? You were harassing some innocent stranger without any proper justification. You yourself didn’t even know what you were after and you could no longer even see her auburn curls as you reached a large, abstract clock statue that stood in the middle of the strip of walkway between the two roads, always as hideous as ever.

The snow-covered branches of the trees of Dante Park gave Natasha enough coverage to blend into the rest of the pedestrians lounging on the street. Ten seconds later she had completely lost you. She had no doubt that you would give up on your search when the two of you shared no connection. She could have easily kept going and carried on with her night, but she couldn’t. Her heart ached so violently that she could no longer take another step. She looked at the row of snow-covered benches on her left, briefly contemplating if she should sit down for a moment. The pain was immense. It was brutal. She looked back toward the crossroad where she had last seen you, spotting you by the large, ugly clock. You brushed your hands over your bare arms, shivering very visibly. You looked around, taking a few blind, aimless steps toward her direction, but you clearly had no intention to continue your chase.

You were so close to her, Natasha’s heart beating out of rhythm as she watched you briefly glance her way again, prompting her to step behind a street map post to avoid being caught. What a loser she was. There was no point in trying. She should simply leave you alone. That’s how things were meant to go, that was your designated path. She didn’t belong there, she didn’t belong in your life. She waited for a moment to be on the safe side before peeking her head from behind the post, needing one more look at you before she would be ready to let you go. Her heart jolted. You were closer, walking her way as you rubbed your hands together violently in an attempt to warm yourself up. You and your lacking clothing received a few appalled looks from bystanders, but you paid them no attention, your focus moving back to the opera house. You brought your hands up to your mouth, huffing a warm breath over them despite how little it did to stave away the cold.

You stepped off the sidewalk to cross the street, slightly off where the crosswalk had been marked, too busy warming yourself up to look around. Every cell in Natasha’s body stung in fear when she saw the way your gown glistened under a pair of headlights that appeared from nowhere, the driver taking advantage of the unusual lack of traffic by going slightly over the speed limit. Natasha didn’t waste a single breath, charging right at you without a second thought or even half a consideration for her own safety. All she could see was a car that was seconds away from running you over, and all she could think about was not letting it happen. Her body collided roughly with your own as she pushed you off the street and out of the car’s way just as the driver hit the breaks. You didn’t scream, you didn’t let out a single sound. You couldn’t. Natasha heard shocked gasps and a few horrified shouts from the sidewalk, but they disappeared into oblivion as she looked at you lying beneath her in the powdery snow.

Your eyes were wide, staring up at Natasha in pure terror as you lay on your back, your icy hands gripping her waist over her wool coat. You couldn’t process what had even happened, but you could feel her hand beneath your head, protecting it from the roughness of the collision with snowy asphalt, her hips and thighs pinning you down to the ground. You felt the way your chest rose and fell rapidly, your corset making the process of breathing feel even more laborious, your head spinning alongside the world around you. All you could do was stare up at what you had just now discovered to be green eyes. The streetlights illuminated her red hair, giving it a gentle glow, snowflakes clinging to her curls as more snow came down from the sky. Her cheeks were a soft pink from the cold, the tip of her nose matching the color, plump lips an even deeper shade of rose. You couldn’t feel any pain, the coldness of your body preventing you from feeling anything at its full intensity, yet you felt like you could feel her.

“Are you okay, dorogaya (darling)?” A hint of inappropriately possessive worry bled into her tone as she uttered the words, the endearment slipping out by pure accident, reminding her to take some mental distance from you despite your very intimate position. You continued to stare up at her, your lips parting but nothing came out. You nodded your head, but it came off as more of a tremor.

“Y-yeah. I’m- I’m-” Your teeth started clattering. You were freezing out of your mind.

“Are- are you okay?” The voice belonged to a panicked boy on the driver’s seat. Natasha glanced back at the scene behind her, noticing that the car had done a full one-eighty on the snow and ice when hitting the brakes, a few cars piling at the scene, waiting to get past, some drivers exiting their cars to see if an ambulance was needed. Natasha could tell the boy was young and clearly an inexperienced driver, anger flashing within her, hot and ruthless.

“You could’ve killed her”, she said in a voice icier than the snow pressed up against your skin as she moved carefully off you, barely sparing the boy a single glance before her attention was back on you. She knelt in the snow, her helping hands pulling you slowly to sit upright. You looked at her, you looked at him, you looked at the car, the snowflakes above you. It all felt so surreal.

“Are you hurt? I’m so sorry. Oh my god, I’m so fucked.” He was seconds away from crying, his whiny tone getting on Natasha’s nerves. She turned to him again, her stoic face conveying every bit of disdain that she felt toward him.

“Get lost.” The boy was clearly taken aback by her hostility, but he didn’t seem to be the type to defy authority, his hand fumbling for the car key. “And learn how to fucking drive.” He nodded his head, some bystanders watching the scene unfold, a few coming closer to ask if you needed help, but they were quickly convinced that you had made it through without a single scrape. Or well, not exactly. Natasha brushed the melted snow off your bare arms and shoulders, taking notice of the irritated skin there. Parts of it had been peeled raw by the rough collision with the ground, but they were barely enough to be considered wounds.

“Thank you”, you blurted out suddenly after she had helped you back on your feet.

“You’re welcome”, she smiled softly, a hint of something, something that was driving you insane, behind that expression, her hand coming up to your face to brush aside some of your hair. You looked at her, observed her carefully, unsure of what to say to her or how to voice why you had come after her in the first place. You felt like you needed to explain yourself to her, but you didn’t have the words for such a feat. “Turn around.” You followed her instructions, feeling like your brain was a bit behind from the current moment. “You’ve got…” She brushed her hand down the back of your dress, saving whatever she could from your gorgeous apparel. “A bit of snow.” Your arms curled against your body automatically as you continued to shiver like a leaf in the wind, your lower lip trembling, teeth chattering. “Here.” You turned to look at her. She had removed her dark brown coat and was offering it for you to wear. It looked warm and comfortable, the effect amplified by the fur neckline of the coat. You shook your head immediately, noting that she was only wearing a thin, satin blouse beneath it.

“No, you’ll freeze”, you protested weakly, but Natasha simply shook her head.

“I’ll be okay. Besides, you’re practically already frozen. I’ve still got a few minutes.” You tried to chuckle at her joke, but you were far too cold to produce such sounds. She wrapped the coat tightly around you, making sure it fit you snuggly to stave off the cold.

“Thank you”, you mumbled, feeling a pleasant but weak heat bloom on your cheeks from her considerate act.

“Keep it. It looks good on you.” Natasha brushed her hand over your shoulder as if admiring the fit on you. It brought her comfort and serenity to know that you would own a piece of her.

“W-what?”

“I have to go, and you probably should too.” There it was again, that look, that look in her eyes. You felt a visceral reaction in your body for being looked at that way. You felt unbearable disappointment even if you didn’t expect a complete stranger to want to hang out with you for longer than necessary. She had only acted out of basic human decency. She noted the hesitant look on your face. “It’s okay, detka (baby), you can keep it.” It was only fair that she would get to slip in one more endearment before leaving. You couldn’t really react to her words, still trying to process the fact that you had just gone through a near death experience. “Look both ways when crossing the street. Please, for my sake and my sanity.”

“I will.” Natasha started backing away, a bitter smile on her lips.

“Wait.” You felt hurt, abandoned, but you didn’t understand why. “What’s your name?” She pursed her lips, wiping the smile off her face as she looked away as if contemplating whether your question was worth answering or not.

“Natasha.” You smiled. “Yours?” She already knew the answer.

“Y/N.”

“I’ve always loved that name. It suits you”, she hummed softly.

“Thank you and thank you for saving my life. I owe you everything.” She shook her head in mild amusement as if you didn’t quite know what her words entailed.

“You owe me nothing.” She took a few more steps back. “Take care of yourself, Y/N.” She gave you one last smile before turning around and walking away, hopefully heading somewhere away from the cold. You stared after her, feeling distraught by the intimacy of the way she has said your name, an odd shiver going down your spine. You hugged the coat tighter around you, watching her disappear into the city covered by a blanket of snow.

Chapter Text

If you had previously thought that you were obsessing over the woman –Natasha, as you had come to find out– you had been wrong. Now you were obsessing. You weren’t crazy. You weren’t. You couldn’t be. Instances like the one you had just experienced did not happen out of nowhere. You entered your empty apartment that night, feeling even emptier than your apartment was. Your roommate was out of town, visiting her brother in Boston. You felt like you had just been rudely shaken awake from a dream. You let out a deep sigh, setting down your purse, feeling a budding headache at the base of your skull. It had been building from the moment you had returned into the opera house to warm up and gather your belongings. You looked down at your arms, eyeing the dark brown coat you had acquired from Natasha. You felt hollow, still cold and stiff. You couldn’t wait to finally unwind after the dreadful day you had had. You shrugged off the coat and hung it up, brushing your dominant hand over it almost longingly before heading straight into the bathroom to draw yourself a boiling hot bath.

You spent an hour, maybe even two, in the bath, soaking up every ounce of heat from the bubbly water, staring up at the shower head in thought. You felt like you were going through a silent existential crisis as your mind tried to obsessively come up with all the different possible ways for your family to find out about your unfortunate death by getting run over. You envisioned your funeral, almost went far enough to pick out which songs you would want during your service, but you realized to stop feeding your imaginative mind after a lone droplet falling from the faucet brought you back into your senses. The bubbles were gone, your aching body feeling heavy and limber. The initial burn that had spread across your raw skin was gone and your headache had moved to your temples where it felt slightly more manageable. You had a feeling that it was soon about to disappear if your pain killer was ever going to kick in.

On your way into the kitchen, dressed in your bathrobe, you caught yourself eyeing the coat. Why would a stranger be so kind? It couldn’t have been normal. Nobody was that kind for the hell of it. Or were you truly that cynical that you couldn’t even receive an act of kindness with open arms? Did you have so little faith in humanity? You reached your kitchen cupboards with Natasha’s face on your mind as you began to make yourself a hot chocolate to ensure that you were going to be thawed from inside out. You made sure your drink was extra rich and extra hot before heading into your living room. You had a decent sized home for Manhattan’s rent prices, the view from your window displaying a white, narrow street of brownstones. You turned on the TV, cuddling up on your couch to enjoy your scalding hot chocolate, hoping to catch a break from the thoughts running inside your head. Those eyes, that look, the red hair. She had downright resembled an angel when she had looked down at you on the ground, or maybe she hadn’t. Maybe you were simply glorifying your guardian angel, playing it up in your head to entertain yourself and pretend that somebody cared for you. It felt ridiculous. You were alright. Your life was good. There were no voids to fill.

Your eyes landed on the screen of the TV, some Christmas romantic comedy coming up on the screen. You rolled your eyes, switching the channel only to be met with yet another Christmas movie. Every single program seemed to have at least a hint of Christmas in it, which would have been fine had it actually been Christmas, but it was at least three weeks away still, and to be completely honest, you weren’t a huge fan of the holidays in general. You had never been. You didn’t really see the point of it. To you it never really went beyond religion and commercial humbug. You felt as though you had no proper reason to celebrate it. You could appreciate the aesthetics, but you never cared enough to participate. You switched the channel again, finding a rerun of a detective series, settling for that while you sipped on your hot chocolate, your thoughts returning to Columbus Avenue time and time again. You wanted to talk to someone about it all, about her, but it was far too late to bother any of your friends with such mysteries, and your mother had an early shift at the hospital. She was about to perform a very serious operation that had been stressing her out for weeks on a long-term patient of hers. She did not need to know that her daughter was horsing around the city, getting herself killed in chase of a stranger. But it wasn’t only the availability of others why you didn’t tell any of your close ones, it was also your lack of ability to verbalize your experience. You couldn’t explain to anyone why you had gone after her, not even to yourself.

You fell asleep on the couch to the sounds of gunshots on TV, your exhausted body refusing to care about any surrounding noises. You needed sleep, and you needed it badly. Lucky for you, you slept like a rock, completely unmoving as you lay snuggled up on the couch, taking a much-needed break from the feeling that those green eyes stirred in you. It might have returned first thing when your eyes fluttered open again only to squint at the light coming from the windows, but at least you had gotten a small break from the draining task of trying to understand what you had witnessed and experienced. You moaned in mild annoyance as you turned onto your back, immediately aware of the physical abnormality you felt in your body. Your throat felt raw. You shut your eyes in defeat, noting your clogged nose and aching neck. Fuck.

“This cannot be happening”, you moaned quietly, testing your voice to see how bad the situation was. It came out hoarse, worse than it normally was in the mornings. You wanted to cry, but you didn’t, blindingly searching for your phone on the coffee table, nearly knocking over your empty mug in the process. You texted your director to bring out your understudy, and even called after her for good measure despite having no intention to open your mouth. You needed to preserve whatever was left of your vocal cords. Then you texted Beatrice and the cast group chat to let everyone know that there was a possibility of you being too sick to perform. It was entirely possible that you weren’t getting sick but were simply suffering from the aftermath of the cold weather you had been dealing with the day before. You glanced out the window at the snow tracks on the street, noting just how much it had snowed during the night. With a pained sigh you got up from the couch, noting that you had kicked your blanket onto the floor. You didn’t bother to pick it up, grabbing your rancid-smelling hot chocolate cup and heading for the kitchen.

You tried not to look at the coat that hung at the entrance of the house, looming ominously there. It didn’t belong there. It wasn’t yours. You kept your head straight as you walked past it, momentarily thrilled that you had been able to resist its pull, but right as you were about to step into the kitchen, your head turned to look at the brown coat as if to make sure it hadn’t all been a dream. It was such a deep, delicious shade of dark chocolate that you felt drawn to it. You wanted to touch the item, study it. The feeling became so strong that you simply went into the kitchen and discarded your mug before heading straight to the coat hanger. Your fingers brushed over the wool, feeling its smooth but coarse texture. Without embarrassing yourself entirely, you leaned closer as if by accident to smell the piece of clothing, noting the weak scent of perfume that lingered on the wool that still had a slightly damp smell to it. You pulled on the fur lapel of the coat, taking a better look at it. Your eyes noted the logo of a clothing brand at the neck. It was on the more expensive side but nothing outrageous by any means. The inside was lined with satin, a glossy brown material that begged for you to glide your fingers over it, so you did. You felt the fabric under your fingertips, exploring the textures, your hands sliding into the pockets to check them just in case if you were ever going to wear the coat out. Something cold and hard touched your right hand that was in the left pocket, a small frown finding your face. Your fingers curled around the object, pulling it out.

“Huh.” You stared at the flat piece of metal in the shape of a fish with a keychain ring attached to it. “A tag?” You eyed it carefully, noting that there were engravings on the polished surface. “Liho.” You flipped the tag around to see the other side, gasping softly. There was a phone number. Could it be hers? You couldn’t deny the jolt of excitement that went through you at the possibility of not being stuck with such an open end to your encounter with the woman. You wanted her to be something more than just a face you saw in the crowd. You owed her your life. There needed to be a bigger, stronger connection between you. It couldn’t simply be that she saved your life and that was the end of it. You had been given a second chance at life. It was meant to be a new beginning.

You thought about the matter for a moment longer. No, you were being ridiculous. You couldn’t go harassing Natasha for the hell of it. It wasn’t socially acceptable to be so needy and expect her to give a single dime about you despite her saving your life. It wasn’t fair of you to have any expectations for her. You pocketed the tag, placing it back in its rightful place, yet it remained on your mind with impressive consistency throughout the impromptu day-off you were having. What if she needed the tag? What if she hadn’t realized that her pockets weren’t empty? You stared into the direction of the coat as you sat at your dinner table, slurping on some chicken soup for a late lunch, the coat’s ominous presence eventually forcing you to pick up your phone. You waited in immense anticipation as you held the phone to your ear, listening to it ring. Your heart hacked in your chest. Could it be her number? You were practically clutching the phone with both of your hands as you waited.

“Hello?” The world stood still for a second. It was her.

“Hi.” You cleared your throat. “Hi, hey, it’s Y/N.” Natasha went silent, her eyes filling with tears instantly. She took a shallow breath, closing her eyes for a moment as she reigned in her feelings.

“Hi!” She sounded overly positive to her own ear, the tone disguising the onslaught of emotions that she experienced at the sound of your voice. “How did you get my number?”

“Uh, a cat tag for Liho.”

“Guess I had a cat”, she mumbled nearly imperceptibly. “Liho.”

“What?” You couldn’t hear her.

“Nothing. My cat, Liho. I miss her”, Natasha explained swiftly.

“Has she passed?” Your voice nearly disappeared halfway through the sentence. Natasha recognized the tone, a small smirk finding her lips.

“Did you get a cold?” And just like that she evaded the question.

“I did.” You coughed lightly to make your voice sound less harsh to her ear, attempting to get rid of the gravelly tone that you had had all day.

“You put your understudy to work”, Natasha hummed in mild amusement, eliciting a hum of agreement and a small chuckle from you that turned into a cough. It was followed by silence. You played with a strand of your hair, looking around the living room impatiently, glancing outside at the streetlamps that were turning on, making the snow glow golden. You couldn’t take the slight awkwardness, the words leaving your mouth on their own.

“I can bring you the tag… if you want. I’m bored out of my mind with this sick day.” Your heart hammered in anxiety. It had been a long while since you had asked a woman out. With all the work you had put on your singing career that year, it had left little time for personal relationships, and she was certainly someone that fit your criteria. “Oh, and the coat. I wouldn’t wanna rob you of that. It’s a beautiful one.” Natasha stayed silent, her weak breath barely flowing out of her lungs and past her parted lips. Could she handle it? “You can say no”, you blurted suddenly, realizing that the silence could have been caused by her search for an easy way to let you down.

“No, no. Oh-” She chuckled at her own awkwardness, starting over. “I’d love to. Meet me at Ground Central on 8th Avenue?”

“I love that place!” You squeaked out the words, scrunching your nose in mild embarrassment for how you sounded. Natasha smiled fondly; of course you did. She knew that.

“Perfect. I’ll see you there”, she hummed softly. “Bye.”

“Bye.” You ended the call, Natasha’s cheeks flushing an intense red as she clutched her phone to her chest, a gentle gust of wind dusting her blazing face with powdery snow. She stared up at the crystal-clear sky, faint stars starting to show through the darkening blue above. Without a second thought, she changed her course of direction and headed to 8th Avenue, the snow crunching under her boots with every step.

Natasha sat on a large black antique couch, her nails digging into the leather of the seat where the material had chipped off slightly. She was a nervous wreck, doing her very best not to show it as you walked through the front door into the delicious smelling cafe. You were dressed warmly in a rather obvious manner, the comically large scarf around your neck keeping your vocal cords safe and warm. Natasha stood up, smiling to you amicably as she made her way over to you, leaving her coat on the couch to save her spot.

“Hi, did you make it here alright?” She asked politely as she came to stand beside you at the vitrine that displayed all the delicious goods that the cafe had to offer.

“I did, thank you.” Seeing her again was stirring something within you. The previous night flashed across your mind, your body recalling the cold of the snow against your skin, the way her body had pressed up against your own, the way your head had ached. You stared at her ivory skin tinted by a hint of blush and her green eyes that you could not tear your gaze away from. You felt something swirl in your abdomen, an odd budding curiosity toward her.

“You guys ready to order?” The barista’s voice pulled you out of your momentary stupor over her enigmatic energy. Your head snapped to the side to look at the young woman behind the counter before returning to Natasha.

“Order what you want. It’s on me”, you said quietly, Natasha giving you a small, knowing smile that you took as nothing but polite. She didn’t protest, placing her order as if she would have known just how much you hated it when friends and lovers alike refused your genuine act of kindness. Natasha turned to the barista.

“One gingerbread mocha with an extra shot, please.” She looked at you expectantly.

“And a flat white with a cherry danish.” You pulled out your credit card from your wallet, watching the barista type down your order.

“What, no silly Christmas drink for you?” Natasha asked in a small tease, earning a laugh from you.

“No, not really a Christmas person”, you explained, turning to look at her. She had an odd, calculating look in her eyes, a hint of confusion flashing across her face.

“How could that be? You’re the lead star of the most talked about Christmas opera this year?” You let out an amused huff at her words.

“Perhaps that’s exactly why.”

“Ah, so you don’t like to mix business and pleasure”, she concluded.

“You could say that.” You looked at her again, the corners of your mouth turning upward on their own. You couldn’t quite stop looking at her. She had this smile that softened her rather intense features in a split second. You could see the way her eyes lost their stoic gaze, her brows relaxed, the apples of her cheeks became slightly more rounded to highlight the mild blush there. It was reserved, didn’t show teeth, yet it was somehow so full. You received your order a few minutes later before making your way to the spot Natasha had reserved for you.

“I love the atmosphere of this place”, you said as you sat down on a red antique armchair that was placed next to the black leather couch.

“Me too. It’s the perfect mixture of casual and comfortable”, she hummed in agreement.

“So, I take it that you’re a Christmas person?” You nodded toward her drink with a mountain of whipped cream on top, sprinkles and crushed candy cane on top. It amused you slightly. She had such a captivating, intense exterior that you hadn’t expected her to order something so ridiculous.

“I didn’t used to be…” She seemed to pause, her fingers playing with the warm mug of coffee. “But then I met someone who changed it for me.” You felt the heaviness of her statement, sensed the pain behind it, unsure where to take the conversation from there. “She showed me how fun it can be.” Natasha smiled at you, those green eyes boring right into your soul. You barely dared to smile back at her, but you managed just fine, thankful that she moved her focus on the drink instead to take a sip of whipped cream to break the charged moment. The drink left a white foam mustache on her lips that made you grin in amusement.

“You’ve got a little something there”, you said teasingly, pointing at your own upper lip to show her the spot you were referring to. Natasha rolled her eyes in good nature, wiping her lips into the back of her hand. You both chucked quietly.

“So, what’s your excuse for not liking Christmas? Any trauma in that department?” Her question didn’t come off as invasive but rather lighthearted and jovial.

“No, thankfully not.” You nursed your nearly scalding hot mug of coffee to warm up your stiff fingers, still clad in your scarf despite having taken off your coat. “I’ve just never really celebrated it. It means nothing to me. Just some lights and jingles.” Natasha pursed her lips.

“I get what you mean. Believe it or not, I used to be a proper Grinch.”

“You? No way.” You added some feigned disbelief into your tone as you eyed her christmassy drink, coaxing out a chuckle from her.

“What can I say? I was converted to the dark side.” Natasha raised her hands up in defeat, her smile only widening alongside yours.

“What happened there?” You looked at her with pure curiosity shining in your eyes, your lips sipping on your coffee.

“Love, but that didn’t end all that well, so now I just enjoy the overconsumption of sugar and winter spices, and the pretty lights outside.”

“Ah, you too have fallen victim”, you said dramatically, a sense of understanding budding between you.

“Unfortunately so. What about you? I can sense the bitterness from a mile away.” She had a way of speaking that made you feel like you knew each other. She wasn’t tentative about crossing boundaries. She was honest and straightforward. You chuckled at her comment, shaking your head.

“Oh, it’s been way too long for me to still be upset over it”, you mumbled to yourself but decided to answer her question anyway. “She… she was one hell of a gaslighter.” You smiled bitterly. “She was so good at it that I lost my sense of self. I forgot that I knew the truth and that I didn’t have to listen to her lies, let alone believe them.” You turned to look at her, those green eyes fixed on you. “I’ve been healing… slowly.” You scoffed softly at yourself, mildly frustrated by the lack of progress you were making.

“She sounds like she deserves a fist in her face.”

“Oh, she does”, you chuckled, nodding your head in agreement.

“She’s about my height, blonde hair, and a punchable face, so if you ever see her in the streets, don’t be afraid to clock her.” Your tone oozed amusement. You weren’t serious, and Natasha could tell. She knew you weren’t one for violence.

“Oh, I’ll serve justice. Trust me.” You both laughed again, a brief moment of silence taking over as you both sipped on your drinks. You took a few bites of your danish that you had not gotten a chance to taste yet because of your immersive conversation. Natasha’s eyes dipped down to your scarf, a hint of something along the lines of curiosity in her eyes. “Talking isn’t too hard on your voice, is it?”

“No, it’s okay. It’s probably nothing. Just a little reaction from last night.” You shook your head in emphasis. Your voice was slightly hoarse around the edges and maybe a tad bit lower than normal.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” She asked in visible concern. “It was quite a fall. I was rather rough.”

“Hey, you saved my life. I can take a little roughing up.” There was a hint of flirt in your words, the familiar suggestive tone bringing a bright, involuntary smile on Natasha’s face.

“Good, I’m glad you’re alright”, she hummed, once again looking at you with that gut wrenching longing etched into her eyes. It made you wonder what she was thinking. The emotion in her eyes made you feel uneasy, worried for something, but you didn’t know what. You couldn’t understand what reason she had to be looking at you that way. “The opera needs their lead singer. You were amazing out there.” And just like that the odd feeling you had experienced had been wiped away alongside that pained look in her eyes, replaced by playful compliments. “You always liked singing.” She almost said it as a statement instead of a question. It was too assertive. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, it comes from my family. We just always loved music, and then a teacher in high school steered me into the direction of classical singing. She said my voice suited the style. Did some theater too.” You chuckled openly at those days, recalling various hilarious moments from your catastrophic plays. “But let’s be honest, opera is just elevated high school theater.” You both chuckled. “I went to Julliard and now… here I am.” You smiled at her, shrugging your shoulders.

“Here you are”, Natasha whispered, an admiring look on her face.

“What’s your history with New York? Do you work here?” You wanted to know more about her. She looked slightly taken back by your question, like maybe she didn’t quite have a straightforward answer that time.

“I recently moved here, but I’ve visited enough times to know my way around. Although there are definitely still places that I have yet to see.” Her answer made you smile. What a perfect window of opportunity.

“Maybe I can show you around sometime. I owe you at least a dinner for your heroic efforts.” You could feel the way you looked at her. You knew that look, and a part of you was begging you not to direct it at her, but you couldn’t help it. You were interested.

“Maybe you can.” She responded to you with a small smirk on her lips. She seemed pleased. “Dinner sounds lovely.”

“I know a few good spots in the city. Anything you don’t eat?”

“I’ll eat anything as long as the company is good. And well… no worries there.” You could feel your cheeks heat, unable to break the eye contact that had you completely captivated. You needed a distraction before your feelings became too evident to her.

“So, what do you do for a living?”

“I work at Stark Industries.” It was the best she could come up with. She had forgotten to create a secure alias for herself. She knew she had once been working for Stark, but she could not fact-check anything on such short notice.

“Really?” You were clearly impressed. “How did you end up there?”

“To be completely transparent, through connections. I was offered a job, and I took it.”

“A businesswoman, I see.” You smirked. Her style of dressing definitely suited that description. “What do you do?”

“I’m a business development manager. I deal with company relationships, business opportunities and so on.” She would definitely have to send an application for the position in question if she wanted her lies to only be temporary.

“That sounds interesting. Do you like it?”

“It does the job”, she chuckled, taking a long sip of her gingerbread latte.

Talking to her was easy, effortless, and she certainly wasn’t hard on the eyes. Before you even knew it you had completely forgotten your initial agenda of returning the cat tag and finding an answer to the feeling she elicited in you whenever she looked at you. Not that you would have had words for such questions. She made you feel warm with her secure personality, witty demeanor, and attentive attitude. She asked you questions, made you feel included, your body sinking even further into the armchair even after you had finished your drink and pastry. She made you feel like you had always known each other which was slightly disturbing because of how uncommon that feeling was for you. The last time you had felt anything of the sort it had been with your ex. After going over the more practical aspects of getting to know her, the conversation took a turn for oddly specific details of your lives that ended up being bonding points for you. The early evening turned into night, the lights on the streets illuminating the busy people that were undeniably a trademark of the city. You wrapped your scarf tighter around you, as if it was a blanket, curling up on your armchair without so much as a budding intention of leaving any time soon.

“Yes, exactly! That’s exactly what I mean.” Your conversation had somehow led to you and Natasha being the most renowned film critics in New York City, at least in your opinion, as you discussed a movie that had only recently come out.

“The people weren’t ready for it”, Natasha shrugged in defeat, a smile lingering on her lips.

“They hate to see women win”, you sighed, your focus shifting momentarily on your empty mug of coffee.

“I hoped things would be better here.”

“In New York?” You asked for clarification. Natasha seemed to pause for a moment.

“Yeah. You know, the Big Apple, metropolis, a heavier concentration of educated people.” She really needed to get a grip on herself. She was too close to the edge. “But alas, I am still surrounded by idiots”, she chuckled light-heartedly.

“Don’t I know it.” You crunched your nose, feeling a sense of communion between you. She understood you and you seemed to share a lot of beliefs and opinions, which was always exciting because it made you feel seen and valued. “I find it surprising that so many people missed the entire point of the movie. It was right there”, you groaned, the look on Natasha’s face agreeing with you without her needing to utter a single word.

“It baffles me, truly.” Your topic changed into literature, somehow bridging into art and culture before circling back to movies and then again changing course to politics before you found your way to music. Natasha learned to tread carefully after slipping in a comment about a notoriously idiotic world leader, which elicited a confused frown from you, paired with a simple “who?”. She had had too many slip-ups, but thankfully the conversation carried on effortlessly. You wished you could have had five more cups of coffee if it had meant that you could have kept up the conversation to get to know her better, but you could already see from the corner of your eye that the baristas were cleaning the counters and the tables, emptying the vitrine in preparation for closing the cafe.

“Hey, guys, just to let you know, we’re closing in five minutes.” And before you even knew it, the staff was ushering you outside. You got up from your seat, Natasha pulling on her shiny black fur coat, both of you assessing the weather outside to prepare yourselves for the cold that you would have to face.

“Do you live nearby? I could walk you home, it’s dark outside”, Natasha offered as you headed to the front door after thanking the baristas for their service. She pushed open the door, holding it for you, her hand brushing only barely over your lower back as you walked by.

“You know, I’m not some damsel in distress. I can take care of myself”, you retorted playfully, Natasha smirking in amusement as she followed you outside, the snow crunching beneath your feet.

“I know.” The way she said it made you feel like she truly did know, the look she gave you letting you know that the reason for her offer had nothing to do with your ability to look after yourself, but perhaps something else, which made your chest squeeze from excitement; she didn’t want to part ways just yet.

You walked up 8th Avenue to Columbus Circle, turning to the right where you could easily go into Central Park where you would have an opportunity to find a space with less traffic and busy people roaming the streets. The park was beautiful when covered in snow. The once clear sky was now a murky grey, the very tops of the tallest buildings fading into the clouds above, the tall trees dusted white, some of the trunks and branches decorated with golden Christmas lights. Every bench, bush, and lamppost was covered by at least an inch of snow, the pathways littered by footprints, paw prints, claw prints. You felt so warm and cozy in your thick scarf and coat that for a moment you couldn’t even talk, soaking in the atmosphere to the fullest. Natasha seemed to feel the same way, walking silently beside you. She knew when to be quiet and she was comfortable with it as well, which you appreciated greatly. You listened to the crunch of snow, Natasha’s footsteps echoing yours as you breathed in the crispy air that made the tip of your nose sting. After walking aimlessly for a while, both of you simply admiring your surroundings, your attention shifted from the nature around you to Natasha.

Her cheeks and nose were tinted pink, red tendrils of hair framing her face beautifully. She didn’t have a scarf, but the lapels of the fur coat were enough to cover up her pale neck. She nuzzled her chin deeper into the coat, her hands in her pockets, eyes focused on the glistening snow around you. There was something indescribable about her beauty, something that gained your attention particularly, yet you had no idea what it was specifically. She just had an air about her that was intriguing as well as captivating. Her gaze shifted to you as if sensing your eyes on her, a gentle warmth spreading over your cheeks for getting caught. Neither of you said much more that night until you reached the nearest subway station where you ended up parting ways since you lived in different parts of the city. You stopped by the edge of the park, below a warm yellow lamp.

“Oh, before I forget, here’s your coat. The tag is in the pocket.” You handed Natasha a net market bag you had been carrying on your shoulder the whole day.

“Thank you.” She received it, sliding her arm through the straps to bring it onto her shoulder. “I hope I’ll see you again soon. You’ve got my number. Call me.” You grinned brightly.

“Right back at you. I had a nice time with you.” She returned your smile with equal excitement.

“Me too. Get home safely. Look out for cars”, she said teasingly, taking a step back to allow you to part ways.

“Yeah, yeah!” You laughed at her concern, waving your hand at her before descending underground to catch a train home.

Chapter Text

You looked at yourself in the mirror, tilting your head as you analyzed yourself from head to toe. Your outfit was simple but classy. It looked good. You had nicely fitting trousers on and a plain but neat top. You squinted at the reflection. You came off as boring. You didn’t look good enough, just average. You yanked off your shirt, staring at your half-naked body in the mirror, your gaze focusing on the way your bra supported your breasts. You needed more cleavage. A different bra. She would- No, you could not let yourself think like that. It wasn’t a date, just dinner. Yet you could not deny the giddiness that you felt when you went back to your closet to find a more revealing shirt and a more flattering bra for you to wear, hoping somewhere in the back of your mind that she was going to appreciate the effort you were putting into your appearance. You returned to the mirror after yanking on your change of clothing. The shirt had long sleeves so that you wouldn’t freeze to death with the low v-neckline that gave your breasts a chance to shine, at least a little bit. You didn’t want to give everything away on the first date- not date… The first non-date with Natasha.

You moved on to your makeup, carefully enhancing your appearance to make sure you looked nice. No other reason, just to look nice and presentable. You even styled your hair as a final touch to complete your look, unable to deny the fact that you had just spent nearly two hours getting ready for a casual dinner with a woman you had met less than a week ago. You stared at yourself in the mirror again, scrunching your face in disgust when you realized how obsessive you were being over your appearance. How unfeminist of you. A frustrated groan left you as you pressed your hand over your reflection in the mirror, cursing yourself for being so affected by the mere thought of her. It was way too early to be feeling any type of way toward Natasha. Way, way too early, yet you skipped to the door like a complete fool to put on your coat and leave the house.

The restaurant of your choice was The Nines. You had been there on few occasions with a few of your cast members, and it had been the first place to pop into your mind when Natasha had agreed to your offer to go for dinner. The place screamed elegance, high-class, and NYC. It was an absolute dream, and a perfect location for a comfortably spent evening together. You were using your one day off that week on a dinner with her, so you were certainly not going to skimp out on the opportunity to spoil both yourself and Natasha. You met up at the restaurant, going inside together so that you could get to your reserved table at the same time.

You took off your outerwear and left it at the coat rack, your heart nearly falling between your legs at the sight of her. She was dressed in a gorgeous dark red knitwear set that somehow suited her incredibly well. The off the shoulder sweater was loose in a relaxed manner, the foldover neckline presenting her sculpted shoulders and collarbones rather perfectly. She was strong. You needed merely a single glance at her to determine that, her lean shoulders stealing your attention with ease. Her bottom half was donning a matching maxi skirt that hugged her hips perfectly, the outfit paired with simple silver earrings, a few thin rings, and a small black purse. You couldn’t help but to stare. She fit into the restaurant perfectly, her elegant, yet sufficiently casual appearance complementing the red and gold interior of the restaurant. Her auburn locks had been swept back into a ponytail at the back of her head to let her neck and shoulders shine.

“You look beautiful, gorgeous.” It might have been slightly weird for you to compliment her so openly, but hell, what did you care? You were speaking the truth, but you did want to soften the blow a little by directing more attention to what she was wearing to avoid coming off too strong. “The color suits you so well. Where did you get this? Is it a dress or a skirt?” Somehow asking for those specific details made your comment friendlier. Natasha smiled brightly.

“Thank you”, she hummed, pursing her lips slightly to hide just how much she liked that her efforts had gained your attention. She had based her outfit specifically off your weak spots after all. “It’s a set.” She lifted the loose fabric of her sweater up, just enough to flash you the lines of her abdominal muscles that brought an instant heat to your cheeks. She seemed excited to share that little secret with you; anyone else would have thought it to be a dress.

“It looks amazing on you.” Her smile widened against her own will.

“Almost as amazing as you tonight”, she countered, her eyes trailing down your figure as you sat down to your reserved table for two. The atmosphere was beyond comforting. It made you want to curl up and close your eyes so you could properly take in the live piano music that played Christmas themed music, the low lighting of the dining hall tying together all the different elements that made the place so elegant and cozy. You could hear quiet chatter, glasses and cutlery clinking, the bartender shaking up drinks at the bar. The decor was nothing short of old Hollywood, the deep, rich red of the curtains, the golden yellow lighting, and dark wood begging you to spend less time staring at Natasha who looked like she had been made for the place.

“What do you want for drinks?” You asked her after getting over the rush of excitement you felt. Natasha was already eyeing the seasonal cocktails.

“I was thinking of having a snickerdoodle martini. It sounds interesting”, she hummed, bringing a smile to your face. “What about you?”

“Hmm, I usually go for a White Negroni.” You received your chosen drinks and a small array of complimentary snacks before moving on to deciding what to have for dinner. You watched Natasha take a sip of her beautiful cinnamon-topped drink, your eyes focusing on the way her lips pressed over the rim as you waited for her verdict.

“Is it good?” Natasha gave you a look, licking her lips clean from the foam on top, your hand bringing your own glass to your mouth.

“It’s amazing, here.” She handed the drink to you without so much as a hint of hesitation about sharing with you. “Tastes like a cinnamon cookie”, she hummed as you received the glass. You didn’t wanna offend her by rejecting her offer, and you did actually feel a little left out because of your own very unoriginal choice of drink. You took a sip, your eyes meeting hers as she waited for your reaction.

“Wow, that’s creamy. I like it.” You chuckled softly, handing the drink back to her, her fingers stroking over your own. They were warm, the skin smooth and soft. “Do you wanna taste mine?” Her straightforwardness made you curious. You were intrigued, which naturally made you want to reciprocate. Did she share with everyone or was it just you, and what did it mean?

“Yes, of course. Thank you.” She seemed to appreciate the gesture.

“What were you thinking for main course?” You observed her alluring appearance, unable to quite get over her beauty. It seemed to demand for your attention. She took a sip of your drink, nodding in approval at the pleasant flavor before handing it back.

“You’ve got good taste.” It made you smile, maybe even blush. “The wood roasted salmon sounds delicious.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve heard good things about it.” Your eyes were stuck on the smudge of lipstick that decorated the rim of your rocks glass. One might have assumed that it was off-putting, but any thought of germs or crossing boundaries flew right out the window, replaced by a hint of giddiness over her willingness to share.

“What about you?” You had been intending to get the infamous burger, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted her to learn that you also possessed a more refined palette, deciding to match your order to hers.

“Hmm, I’ve never had the duck in plum sauce. It could be good. I think I’ll have that.”

“Perfect.” While you waited for a server to come around, you got back to talking about your lives, looking to get to know each other better.

“So, any plans for Christmas?” Natasha asked in curiosity, taking another sip of her martini. “Any friends or family around?” She wanted to see how well you matched the version of you she had once known.

“I might visit my parents, but mom will most likely be working and dad I just saw last week, so I might not bother to go to New Jersey. They live nearby anyway, and we never cared for Christmas all that much.” You shrugged your shoulders casually. “And what comes to friends, I might see if my roommate wants to do something special. She’s bigger on the holiday shenanigans.” Natasha chuckled in understanding.

“You have a roommate?”

“Yeah. We’ve been living together for two years now. She helps with rent and the company isn’t too shabby either.” You laughed quietly, your attitude toward your roommate coming off as affectionate. “She’ll probably strap me down and make me watch sappy movies and eat her newest baking concoctions. She’s a manic baker. Owns a bread bakery in Chelsea.” Natasha gave you a knowing smirk.

“I like her style.”

“Strapping or stuffing?” You both burst into laughter.

“I’m not drunk enough to get that inappropriate yet”, she hummed in visible amusement, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

“No?” Natasha shook her head.

“Maybe a few more of these and I’ll be on my way there.” She lifted the class in her hand before bringing it to her lips.

“Do you have family around here?” Natasha didn’t know. She didn’t know the answer to your question, and she suddenly grew very curious about the possibilities. Perhaps she hadn’t always meant to be an orphan.

“I’m estranged from them. All of them to be exact.” She laughed it off, just like she always had. “I didn’t have much of a childhood, and before you let my tragic backstory become irresistibly attractive, I wanna mention that it’s better this way.” You smiled softly, sympathetic to her situation.

“You don’t need a tragic backstory to be attractive.” How awfully bold of you, but it was true. Your hand reached over the table to touch her right one that rested over the tablecloth, your fingertips touching. You almost regretted your rather obvious and straightforward move, but you could no longer backtrack without making it awkward for the both of you, your hand covering briefly her own in a gesture of comfort and understanding. It made her smile.

“Wait ‘til I reveal my wounded side to you”, she hummed teasingly, giving you a subtle wink that you laughed off. “Now, there’s something for you to work on.”

“Don’t worry, I’m already itching with the need to fix you”, you mused playfully, pleased to hear the low rumble of her laughter. It was soft and melodic, the sound of it caressing your lower abdomen. She had such an energy about her, yet you couldn’t pinpoint it.

“Good. Then I know where to look for a healer if I need one.” You grinned, maybe with a little too much excitement. You glanced at the drink on your table, noting that it was probably wiser to slow down.

“Do you have plans for Christmas? Or how do you like to celebrate?” Your fingers played with the sides of the rocks glass, drawing patterns into whatever condensation was left.

“I like being with someone I care about.” She looked wistful for just a moment. “And just sharing the holidays with them. I like the small, little traditions that people have… I like the atmosphere. People seem happier, lighter.” She smiled fondly. “So, I just try to soak up as much of that joy as I can.”

“Do you have any favorite traditions?” You were then interrupted by the waiters who came to take your order and ask if you wanted more to drink.

“Hmm, do you mind?” Natasha asked you as she took the seasonal cocktail menu into her hand, mindful of your attitude toward drinking.

“No, not at all. Knock yourself out, girl.” You waved your hand in dismissal, Natasha’s amused eyes moving down to the menu.

“I think I’ll have a Naughty or Nice. Mmh, it’s got maraschino”, she hummed in mild excitement, placing her order right after voicing out her dinner of choice. She was being such an embodiment of Christmas somehow that it made you feel left out. You hadn’t even looked at the seasonal cocktail menu, but you were easily influenced, especially by her. You grasped the menu into your hands, eyeing the drinks available. You couldn’t decide. There were too many options, too many liquors, and too many words, not to mention that you felt pressured to be quick since the waiter was waiting patiently beside you.

“What would you order for me?” Natasha smirked immediately. She had almost expected you to say those exact words. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

“Hmm, something fruity with the duck. You could have the Pear Tree Martini. That might go well with your meal.” She eyed the menu, pursing her lips as she went over the list again. “Actually, scrap that. The Sugarplum Spritz, you’ll love that one.” You eyed her in curiosity. She sounded like she actually had an idea of what you liked, but you knew that to be impossible.

“I’ll have the Sugarplum Spritz and the duck, please”, you said to the waiter. He smiled at you kindly.

“An excellent choice.” The waiter thanked you before leaving to go take your orders to the chef.

“Where were we?” Natasha asked, finishing off the remnants of her martini.

“Traditions.”

“Right. I like all the basics. Gift exchange, movies and cuddles, hot chocolate and decorating the Christmas tree. I’m not much of a cook but I like a nice Christmas dinner, maybe some easy baking, a walk outside. You know, a bit of everything.” You nodded along. It did sound really nice. You couldn’t deny that.

“Sounds lovely.” You both smiled. “Who are you spending the holidays with this year?” Natasha’s heart ached like it had crudely been ripped out of her chest.

“We’ll have to see.” It sounded like she didn’t want to admit to you that there might not even have been any options available, so you decided not to pry further, simply nodding in response.

“What’s your favorite tradition then? If you had to choose one.”

“Ah, that’s a hard one. I don’t think I can choose. It’s just the general atmosphere.”

“Humor me. Choose one”, you persisted, giving her an encouraging smile. Natasha looked at you for a moment, clearly in thought before a small, almost shy smile found her face.

“Cuddling up under a blanket in the evening with candles and Christmas lights on.” Her voice was dreamy, her gentle gaze holding your own. “The smell of gingerbread in the air, and you just feel so warm and cozy.” You felt your own features soften at the image she was painting.

“That sounds lovely.” You took a sip of your drink to cool off your blazing cheeks, or subsequently only adding fuel to the fire that was all Natasha’s doing.

“And with the right person, it’s nothing short of magical”, she whispered, the budding tension between you getting broken by your cocktails that arrived at that moment.

“Oh, I’m so excited”, you mumbled softly as you brought your glass to your lips. You had never had any kind of plum drink in your life, and somehow Natasha’s involvement in the choice made it that much more exciting. You took a small sip, your eyes widening slightly from the flavor experience.

“Is it good?” Natasha had a bright grin on her face.

“Yeah. Your choice was spot on.” Your smile only widened. “It’s exactly what I like.” You handed the drink rather automatically to Natasha who had just taken a sip of her own. She offered her cocktail to you just the same. You quite liked how casual it was. You had yet to learn just how much you were going to like it once they brought your dinner to the table. She had such an effortless ability to make you feel seen and included as she offered you forkfuls of her food to try. She seemed to genuinely want you to be a part of her own experience without any pressure for you to reciprocate. It came off as authentic and unapologetic.

You returned home that night with your mind floating somewhere far away from your buzzing body. You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, going over the most unimportant details of the night as you shut the cab door and stepped out into the crisp air. You took a deep breath, feeling so whole from the interaction you had had with her. The entire night had been so comfortable and casual. You let out a long exhale, tilting your head up into the sky to look at the stars as the car behind you revved its engine and was on its way to another destination. Your chest felt full, full of what, you couldn’t tell. You were perhaps slightly tipsy, your physical being feeling lighter than a feather. You felt warm and satisfied. Your stomach was full of delicious food, and you had a comfortable, soft bed waiting for you inside, not to mention the fact that you already had another little date arranged.

Chapter Text

You met up again a few days later at a mall after Natasha managed to convince you to join her on a hunt for Christmas sweaters: one ugly and one decent. Although it required little to no effort to get you to agree to see her again. You didn’t care one bit about what you were doing because you knew you could rely on your conversational abilities and general chemistry to entertain you through any activities you might have come across. You had an embarrassing amount of pep in your step as you crossed the street to the plaza of the mall where you could already see Natasha standing before the sliding doors of the building. You bit down on your lip to prevent yourself from smiling, but the corners of your mouth tugged up regardless of your efforts. When she didn’t hide her smile, you felt like you didn’t have to either, a toothy grin finding your face. She was wearing her brown wool coat and an off-white scarf that made her look gentle and welcoming.

“Hi.” She said it softly, intimately, just between you, her arms rising up to welcome you into a hug. The gesture made your heart jump, your body leaning automatically into her embrace. Somehow it was casual despite the fact that you were not all that well acquainted with each other yet. You liked it, you liked it a lot. So much so that you felt a pang of disappointment for having to pull away from her touch and the cloud of perfume that had enveloped you. She smelled sweet, but not overpoweringly so, the scent balanced out by woody and spicy undertones that begged you to take another deep whiff of her neck, but you had enough self restraint not to do so. Natasha pulled back, taking a long look at you, a happy smile finding her lips. “You look beautiful, dorogaya.” You frowned at the term she had referred to you with. “Russian”, she added as an explanation before you could even ask. It was as if she could see the question form on the tip of your tongue, prompting her to answer again. “Darling.”

“Oh.” You nodded your head in understanding, immediately averting your gaze to avoid showing her that you were in fact affected by her. You had come to a crude realization regarding your feelings the morning after your dinner when you could no longer blame the giddiness and excitement on alcohol.

“Shall we get going? The sweaters aren’t going to find themselves.” You chuckled quietly, following her guiding gesture toward the sliding doors. “Will you be getting one?”

“For what?” You entered the mall, immediately greeted by a show of lights and Christmas decorations, busy people rushing around in the search for presents, others lounging with family and friends, some waiting around for one reason or another.

“For my entertainment, of course.” She smirked your way, and somewhere deep down you felt that you could be persuaded.

“In your dreams.” You gave her an amused glance. “I’d never wear it.”

“We’ll see.” You allowed Natasha to set the course for her desired stores, simply intending to tag along on her quest for Christmas sweaters.

“Is that a threat?”

“Yes.” You laughed at the serious look on her face, nudging her as if to tell her off for such a thought, but in reality, you simply wanted to make contact with her. She chuckled quietly, pulling down her scarf to avoid getting overheated at the mall as you stepped inside the first store that seemed to have potential.

“What kind of look are you going for?” You were greeted by an assortment of seasonal clothing, bright reds and deep greens, sparkles on dark fabric for the New Years. Your hand automatically reached for the sleeve of a sweater to feel the material with your fingertips, Natasha’s brows drawing into an adorable frown as she eyed the selection.

“This is crap. What store is this?” You let out a hearty laugh, watching Natasha take a look at the few red sweaters on display.

“Some high-end brand.” You let go of the sweater that felt a bit itchy in your opinion.

“Figures”, she sighed in disappointment but skimmed through the rack of clothing anyway. “I want something ridiculous, but for that we’ll have to hit the thrift stores.”

“You might just be right.”

“I always am”, she hummed with a teasing smirk on her face that made you roll your eyes. You decided to look at the assortment of clothing regardless of how much you weren’t going to buy anything. However, the clothes were most definitely not interesting enough to keep your attention, your gaze straying to Natasha time and time again. Sometimes she caught you looking, offering you a smile that tried its best to not show you how amused she was. You went deeper into the store to see what else they had to offer, following in Natasha’s footsteps.

“These would be perfect for skating”, she mused almost to herself, but you could tell she was speaking to you as she lifted up a pair of leg warmers.

“As in ice skating?” You frowned in surprise. “People really do that?”

“I do”, she chuckled. “You should come with me sometime.”

“What?” You nearly quaked in shock, Natasha lifting her head from the row of green sweaters that would actually suit her color palette rather well.

“Come with me.” You watched a wide, expectant smile stretch onto her lips as she looked at you from over the shoulder-height rack.

“Where would we even…?”

“There’s plenty of places. Rockefeller, Central Park, Chelsea, Bryant Park.”

“I’ve never…” Somehow, she had rendered you rather speechless.

“Even better. Wouldn’t you wanna learn?” Perhaps not, but the fact that it was her asking made a huge difference.

“Color me intrigued”, you hummed with mild hesitation.

“I could teach you.” An image of her holding your hands for support flashed across your mind. Sold. You were sold immediately.

“Alright.” You grinned at her. “You know the opera schedule. I’m free anytime outside of work.”

“Perfect.” Natasha smiled softly to herself, her eyes on the clothes before her. “Are you gonna try anything on?” She gestured toward the fitting rooms, a few pieces of clothing hanging from her forearm.

“No. I don’t think this is exactly my style”, you chuckled, earning a nod from her.

“Come keep me company then.” She took a few steps toward the fitting rooms, effectively coaxing you to come along. She got inside one of the free stalls, shutting the curtain while you waited on the other side. You really wanted to ask her about your first encounter together. You wanted answers. You wanted to understand why you somehow seemed to share a connection from the first night you had spotted her in the audience.

“Had you seen the opera before?” The second those words had left your mouth you realized that you did not have the courage to actually confront her. You didn’t want to admit to the fact that you had seen her before in the crowd and knew that she had seen the opera previously. You couldn’t look her in the eye and explain how her miserable exterior had made you feel no matter how you had made eye contact with her on both nights. You couldn’t be sure that she had been feeling anything other than whatever the performance had made her feel. She had been looking at an act. You had gotten fixated on her. There was a difference.

“I have, but not this adaptation of it.” Her voice echoed slightly in the stall. Thankfully her response gave you an out.

“What did you think of it?”

“I like the modern twist. I like that it’s less misogynistic and actually gives the female characters a voice. Especially since they’re in such an important role.”

“I’m so glad we’ve fulfilled our goal. Reading the original script was truly a painful experience.” You let out a chuckle, Natasha echoing the sound.

“Yeah, it’s not the most exciting piece of literature”, she chuckled, the curtain of her fitting room flying open. “How’s this?” You eyed her for a moment, the green of the sweater bringing out the hue of jade in her eyes, her red hair looking redder than ever. The sweater was loose and looked comfortable, the front of it decorated by a beautiful knitting pattern. The shade of green was undeniably christmassy but other than that, she could have easily worn it all year round. She looked beautiful in it, but you were slowly starting to feel like it wasn’t because of what she was wearing, but because of just her as a whole. Just the fact that you were looking at her and she knew it brought a warmth to your lower abdomen. She had an expectant smile on her face.

“I like it. The color is really good.” Your eyes rose up to meet her gaze, your cheeks heating just the slightest bit.

“I’ve got one more option for you.” She smirked, pulling the curtain between you again. You tugged off your scarf and coat, settling for draping them over the bend of your elbow to escape the sudden warmth you felt. It was irrational to be feeling anything at all. You could hear her undress herself, your mind jumping in at the opportunity to bring up possible images of how that might have looked like. You backed away from her stall, leaning against the wall of the hallway to bring some distance between you and the ideas your lewd mind was providing.

“How about this?” Natasha appeared in your line of sight again, wearing a gray sweater with the silhouette of a reindeer and a few snowflakes on it in a dark shade of brown. It was cute, but it felt too shabby on her. The green sweater reflected her elegance significantly better.

“I like it, but not as much as the green one.” Natasha nodded immediately.

“Yeah, this is something an aunt would wear”, she hummed in agreement. “Although, I don’t know if the fit of the green one is any better.” And with that note you both left the store empty handed and set course for other, hopefully more interesting selections of sweaters.

You walked beside her in the hallway, listening to the Christmas music that was blasting through the mall, your eyes dipping down to her hand that gently swung back and forth beside her. So what, if you wanted to hold a pretty woman’s hand? Who could seriously blame you? But despite your very elaborate daydreams about reaching for her warm hand, you averted your gaze and discarded the idea entirely. You hadn’t realized how much you had been longing for human contact. You hadn’t realized how much you missed being in a relationship, how much you craved to be intimate with someone. You truly missed feeling like you were everything to that one person who cared the most in the whole wide world, and for some reason, Natasha and her presence was heavy-handedly reminding you of what you were lacking. A part of you didn’t want to feel that way. You knew how emotionally draining a crush could get, never mind a relationship. You were busy with your career, the Christmas shows, practice, and your home life. You weren’t sure if you could fit another variable into the equation. After catching up with your train of thought you realized that you were being ridiculous. There was no potential for anything between you and Natasha. It was simply wishful thinking.

“Stop”, Natasha gasped in disbelief, her hand coming up to your bicep to gain your attention. “Santa’s here.”

“You know him?” You asked sarcastically, amused by her tone that somehow seemed to suggest that it wasn’t her first time seeing him. Natasha gave you a look and laughed.

“We’ve got to get a picture with him.” Your jaw fell open.

“No.”

“Don’t be such a Grinch”, she chuckled. “It’ll be fun.”

“It’s for children.”

“You can be a child at heart”, she reasoned, already pulling you toward the set that was nauseatingly christmassy. There was a long line of kids from toddler to teenager, the workers dressed as elves navigating the chaos that surrounded Santa Claus. “Don’t you wanna sit on his lap?” You scrunched your nose but couldn’t help the reluctant smile that found your face. She was such a breath of fresh air.

“I’d rather sit on Mrs. Claus’ lap.”

“That can be arranged.” She gave you a look, her smirk only widening.

“Are you serious right now?” You asked in utter shock as she towed you to the end of the queue.

“Do I look like I’m not?” You let out a little huff at her remark.

“They’re gonna think it’s weird. This is weird. I’m a grown woman. I’m not sitting on Santa’s lap.”

“Who cares what they think?” You looked at her for a moment, her green eyes as serious as ever, a hint of hope somewhere behind that look. That’s when you registered the warm touch of her hand on your own. She hadn’t let go of you after pulling you into the queue. She came off so genuine and authentic that you felt yourself be persuaded, the warmth seeping from her hand into your own and spreading all over your body. “We’ll come up with a cover story. You’re an actress.”

“A singer. And what would you tell Santa to not make it sound weird?” You gave her a challenging look, remaining fully unmoving to maintain the contact of your hands.

“We have a sick daughter at home, and we wanted to cheer her up.” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Oh, you’re evil.” You couldn’t help but to grin, the gesture morphing into a quiet chuckle. “I can’t believe this. Okay, fine. I’ll do it.” The toothy grin on Natasha’s face was every bit worth the sacrifice of your dignity. You waited in line with the screaming children, observing the process from afar so you would know how it all worked. There was a pile of props on the side that you could use to elevate the picture. There were elf hats, goofy slippers, teddy bears, and toys that children could wear or hold when posing with Santa. It was a rather heartwarming sight if you were being honest. Many of the children were bursting at the seams to tell Santa what they wished for Christmas. They had messy appearances, red cheeks, eyes glinting with mischief and glee, and for a moment you felt like you knew what it was like to be surrounded by pure joy. Natasha nudged you gently forward in the queue, smiling to herself. She knew that look on your face, she knew how deeply you felt at that moment. It was how you had always felt around the holidays.

“Next!” You came out of your silent reverie at the sound of the elf’s shout, moving forward toward Santa who was clearly waiting for one of the children to follow you from the queue. Natasha could barely hold her laughter at his puzzled expression.

“Ho, ho, ho. What do we have here?” You had to give credit to the man in the Santa costume for not breaking his character.

“Hello, Santa”, you began, feeling chills go down your spine from how hard you had to hold back your laughter. You couldn’t even glance at Natasha, knowing it would break your act in an instant. “You see…”

“We have a sick daughter at home”, Natasha filled in for you quickly. Santa nodded his head in immediate understanding.

“Yeah, and we thought we would cheer up our little Amelia by showing her that we met Santa and gave him her wish list”, you continued, biting back your smile that threatened to overtake your entire face.

“What a lovely idea!” He exclaimed in his theatrical voice, beckoning you to come closer. “How old is little Amelia?”

“Six.”

“Eight.” You answered at the same time. You and Natasha looked at each other in mild shock.

“Six and eight months, so almost seven”, Natasha corrected. You nearly brought your hand over your eyes but refrained from doing so to prevent breaking your cover story.

“They grow up so fast”, you mused solemnly, Natasha nodding in agreement.

“That’s an exciting age. You must be busy beyond measure”, Santa said.

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe, Mr. Claus.” Natasha matched his performance in a way that made you think of Golden Age Hollywood stars, the slight lilt in her tone begging to be listened to for hours on end. He pointed at the box of props on the side.

“Choose whatever little trinkets you’d like, and we’ll get that picture for your girl.” He had a very jolly way of talking, his gleeful tone bringing a smile to your face. You and Natasha rushed to the large box much like the children who had done so before you when you had been waiting in the line.

“What are you getting, detka (baby)?” It simply slipped from Natasha. Refraining herself was starting to get to her the closer you got with each other, but thankfully the endearment went by you since it was in Russian.

“I want the elf hat. It looks so soft”, you hummed, digging for a hat that had a fluffy, white fur lining.

“I’m putting the big red bow in my hair.” You spotted the item right beneath your elf hat and handed it to Natasha, who thanked you for your help before you returned to the large chair.

“I’m afraid my lap is equipped only for the little ones”, Santa chuckled quietly as he moved a bit to the side to make more room for you two. “And occasionally for Mrs. Claus.” The laugh he let out was so fatherly that you couldn’t help but to laugh yourself. Natasha took a seat beside him, a bright grin on her lips.

“We wouldn’t wanna make her jealous, now would we?” Natasha snickered, gesturing for you to come closer.

“I’m not sure I’ll fit on that rickety chair of yours”, you commented a bit hesitantly, giving the pair of them a small frown.

“Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart.” You felt a visceral reaction to the endearment, your abdomen bubbling with warmth. “My lap is open for everyone, especially you.” Before you had the chance to overthink her words and ponder their meaning, you remembered that you were wives in Santa’s eyes, Natasha’s hand pulling you onto her lap. You rested your weight down on her firm thighs, a very specific warmth spreading across your backside and down your legs.

“Are we ready?” The helper elf asked as she moved behind the camera to take your picture. You felt overheated under your elf hat, but smiled for the camera anyway, your mind effectively stuck on the way Natasha’s arms were wrapped around your waist to hold you in place.

“Yes, ma’am”, Santa chuckled, smiling his signature smile at the camera as the elf took a proper flash picture of you. “Now, what does little Amelia want for Christmas?”

“A pony, of course”, Natasha responded. The moment felt oddly surreal, and you soon realized that you did not want to get off Natasha’s lap so that you could enjoy the moment to its fullest, but they needed to keep the queue moving which forced you to move to the next step of the process where you would get your picture printed. You stood up, feeling Natasha’s arms loosen around you, her hands stroking unintentionally over your hips. You thanked Santa and left the set, sharing amused, secretive glances as you headed for the small booth in charge of the pictures.

“Now this one is going up on my wall”, Natasha chuckled as she looked at the screen that displayed your picture. You burst into laughter, your hand slapping her arm gently as if you couldn’t quite control the hilarity you felt.

“I look like I came to meet you instead”. You let out a long cackle, covering your face with your hand to hide from the embarrassment you felt, but it was by no means a malignant feeling. In the picture, you were sitting on Natasha’s lap with a comical smile on your face, one that reminded you of the gleeful and excited grins that the children wore on their faces. Only yours was not caused by Santa Claus. It had nothing to do with the fat man in a red suit and everything to do with the redhead hugging your waist. You could feel yourself blush just looking at the picture.

“I love it”, Natasha giggled, handing a twenty-dollar bill to the worker behind the counter to receive the image. “Two please.”

“Oh, I can pay for my own”, you butted in but received a gentle hush from Natasha.

“I made you come”, she hummed, finishing the interaction with the employee by receiving the pictures and a receipt. “Thank you.” She gave him a pleasant smile that you copied before you moved away to give room to the next customer. She handed you your own copy, your smile only widening as you looked down at the picture. Natasha looked so beautiful in it. She looked gorgeous with her toothy smile, her beautiful hair donning the comically large bow, and of course, you could not ignore the fact that she was holding you, her arms around your waist, your backside pressed up against her lap. Your stomach erupted with butterflies when you recalled the feeling, taking a good look at the floor tiles beneath your feet to escape the warmth that plagued your body. Natasha took another look at the photo, laughing quietly, the melodic sound caressing your ear.

“I think an elf died somewhere in the North Pole for the lie we just told”, you chuckled softly, trying to hide how flustered you were, fueling Natasha’s laughter.

“It wasn’t the worst I’ve told”, she huffed in amusement, tucking the picture into her purse so you could focus back on your hunt for sweaters.

You visited a few more designer stores, tried on some items that you spotted on the racks until Natasha eventually decided to go back for the green sweater that turned out to be the best option available, yet your quest remained unfinished. There were no hilariously unserious Christmas sweaters in sight at the admittedly high-end mall that attracted mostly a middle-aged crowd of housewives. Which was precisely why you left the Financial District and headed up north into East Village for some hidden gems in the heaps of donated clothing; the cheaper and trashier, the better. The first store you hit was billowing with clothes, racks upon racks of sweaters, hoodies, and crewnecks. The Christmas themed clothing stuck out to you pretty easily, all the bright red and green pieces demanding for your attention. The first store was slightly too proper for what you were looking for, the prices reaching double digits with ease in almost all items, which told you that the store simply did not have what you were looking for, so you changed spots.

“Now this is it”, you said with a wild grin on your face as you pulled a knitted sweater from a nearby rack shortly after entering another store. Natasha turned around to look at what you had discovered, her eyes landing on a sweater with a whole reindeer stuffed toy hanging from the front of it, baubles and lights made out of fabric decorating the ghastly sight. The grin on Natasha’s face was joyous, mischievous almost.

“Jackpot”, she hummed, diving straight into the rack you had pulled the sweater from, going through it with evident enthusiasm. “Ah, check this out.” Her voice was practically oozing excitement as she pulled out a sweater for you to see. It was bright red, disgustingly so, if you were being honest, and decorated with large snowflakes. So far, so good. But when Natasha flipped the article of clothing around to show you the front, your face acquired a look of amusement.

“Santa’s favorite ho”, you read to yourself, attempting to hold back your chuckle because it really wasn’t that funny, but it was rather the entire setting that made you want to laugh. You started looking through the rack as well, discovering dumber and dumber sweater designs that made you laugh unreasonably hard. Most of them were either visually very unpleasant or carried a rather lewd and sexual message.

“Why are there so many penises?” Your face morphed into a deep grimace as you showed Natasha yet another sweater with phallic imagery dressed in Christmas decorations. She took a look at your miserable expression, bursting into laughter.

“Put it away, darling. We don’t need to see that.” You both snickered in understanding, Natasha in turn, pulling out another gem she had discovered. “Look, it’s the bipolar express.” She held up a navy-blue sweater with the Polar Express decorating the front accompanied by the text she had just voiced out loud.

You both burst into laughter at how creative people could be, each sweater only fueling your excitement and enthusiasm for finding the funniest sweaters. You found ones decorated with real jingle bells and obnoxious frills, more lewd phallic images, and lots of references to inappropriate drinking. The selection was truly endless, featuring a lot of self-made pieces that were all too close to falling apart altogether which somehow made them work even better. You hadn’t laughed so hard in a long time, tears threatening to pool in your eyes from the effort behind your uncontrollable laughter. The entire aisle was filled by you and Natasha’s snickering, your abdominal muscles begging for mercy as you showed each other the most ridiculous pieces you could find.

“Oh, holy fuck”, Natasha gasped quietly as she looked down at one of the sweaters.

“What?” You paused to see what had caused such a reaction from her, prompting her to show you the sweater that quite literally repeated the words in an ugly front and sparkly Christmas tinsel and colorful fur puffs that only added to the hilarity of the message. You let out another peal of laughter, your body feeling weak from how long you had been laughing with her. You showed her another one that you had found, one glance at it enough to make you fold over from laughing.

“Sleight the patriarchy?” Natasha gave you a frown, her look of disbelief cracking soon after seeing how hard you were laughing before she joined you. “That is so ugly”, she giggled, stepping closer to take a better look at the sweater decorated by pink hearts and unicorns. You put it back on the rack, continuing your process of going through the clothing.

“Finally something for the lesbians”, Natasha groaned as if in relief, yanking back a large red sweater, your head turning at lighting speed to see what she had discovered. Aside from being an incredibly overindulgent and ugly sweater, the text in the middle of it made you laugh in disbelief.

“Dyke the halls…” You both laughed so hard you were on the verge of tears. You didn’t know what it was about her that made you laugh so hard you had to put effort into holding your pee in. You were having so much fun, laughing so hard you felt shivers down your spine. There was almost a sense of relief in getting to let loose in your own little world with her between the aisles of clothing.

“What about this one? Ho-ho-ho-mo sexual.” Natasha covered her face from how incredibly stupid it was to even laugh at the cheap jokes written on sweaters, but neither of you could help it.

“I think we’ve finally discovered the gay section of this rack”, she mused between gasps for air.

“Look at this.” You showed her a sweater with the text ‘Kiss under the mistletoe?’ where the said mistletoe was attached to the bottom of the sweater right above the belt line of the wearer.

“I could get behind that”, Natasha chuckled, giving you a look filled with mirth, her hands going through the endless selection of sweaters, her eyes spotting something rather unexpected. She pulled it out enough for you to see, raising her brows. It had a checklist design in the front of it with four options: rock, paper, Christmas, and scissor, the last option ticked. Your lips stretched into a wild grin.

“Now we’re talking.” The odd jumble of giddiness and tension between you was practically palpable, and you would have been lying had you said that you didn’t briefly consider what said activity would have looked like with her. If you weren’t jumping into ridiculous conclusions, you were quite positive that her blush was more intense than the one achieved through laughter.

“I’m so nice, Santa came twice.” You showed Natasha yet another sweater, continuing your game of back and forth, Natasha showing you another one that said ‘Jingle my bells’.

“Oh, this is getting perverse”, she gasped after moving on again, snowing you one of her own discoveries in response. Your hand flew to your mouth at the sight. The sweater displayed the rather overused line of ‘All I want for Christmas’ with a slew of yonic symbols that had been decorated to fit the theme of Christmas.

“That’s… I’m traumatized. That’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.” You and Natasha’s eyes met momentarily before you burst into laughter.

“Never thought I’d see a vagina wearing a scarf”, she mused in a soft wheeze. “It might just be time to wrap it up for the day.” The pun didn’t go unnoticed by you, eliciting another laughing fit from the both of you.

“So what’s your verdict? Which one are you choosing?” You asked playfully, doing your best to gather yourself from the incessant laughter. She looked pensive as she skimmed her hand over the sweaters.

“I think I’m gonna go for that one with the ugly reindeer whose eyes were pointing into different directions.” You grinned widely, recalling the exact sweater and the way it had been filled with so many decorations that it had weighed twice the amount of the other sweaters. It was chaotic and captured the essence of a traditional ugly Christmas sweater rather perfectly.

“What? You mean you don’t want nine Christmas themed vaginas?” You asked sarcastically, earning an amused roll of her eyes as she shoved you playfully.

“I’m currently trying to wipe it from my memory”, she retorted, fetching her desired sweater from the other end of the rack. “You getting anything?” You couldn’t deny the fact that not buying a sweater for yourself made you feel left out. After all the fun that you had been having for the past hour or so, it felt anticlimactic not to fully participate in the fun, your hand skimming over the sweaters again as you let out a soft hum.

“Say when.” Natasha seemed to catch on to your suggestion, waiting a moment as you ran your hand over the shoulders of each sweater, randomly choosing one for yourself.

“Stop.” You pulled out the sweater your hand was touching, Natasha’s smile widening. “Let’s hope you get that kiss under the mistletoe this year”, she said in a teasing tone as you brought your hand to your blushing face in disbelief at having selected the sweater with a low-hanging mistletoe.

Chapter Text

The snowfall was heavy, large chunks of snow falling from the sky at a rapid pace, covering the entire sky in white. You tightened the laces of your left skate, making sure it was snugly on your foot before lowering your pant sleeve over it and grabbing your fluffy fur mittens. You looked around the ice rink that was surrounded by the trees of Central Park, buildings standing tall near the edge of the snowy park landscape. More and less skilled people were gliding over the ice, participating in an act that you quite honestly dreaded slightly. Natasha offered her hand to you, a weary frown pulling your brows down as she helped you up from the bench. She gave you an encouraging smile, backing up on her own skates to give you more room to get accustomed to your wobbly foot apparel. You felt incredibly unsteady, nearly folding forward as you tried to take a step on the ice, your other hand shooting for Natasha’s arm for more support. You let out an awkward chuckle to ease your embarrassment, but Natasha seemed to have nothing but understanding for you, allowing you to stabilize yourself with the help of her forearms.

“I’m scared I’m gonna fall on my face”, you huffed quietly in an attempt to explain yourself to her, but she needed no such formalities.

“I won’t let you fall.” She smiled at you, moving backwards to pull you farther on the ice to help you find a touch on the act of skating. You squeezed her forearms, searching for balance, your eyes staring carefully down at your feet as if to make sure nothing happened without your knowledge.

“Eyes on me, darling.” She was so gentle, so caring, your gaze rising up to see her face. “Trust that your feet move how you want them to.”

“I don’t know how to move them”, you whined, glancing down again at your skates again.

“Find the edge of the blade and push it into the ice to find a grip. It’s a very subtle movement, but you’ll feel it when the blade digs into the ice.” You listened very carefully, testing her advice with your dominant foot, and sure enough you could tell a difference in when the blade got ahold of the ice and gave you a steadier footing.

“Then what?” You looked up at Natasha with a rather vulnerable expression on your face, one that made Natasha’s heart beat erratically in her chest.

“Then you kick your foot to the side and push yourself away from the ice”, she explained, glancing down to see you follow her instructions. The kick was feeble, but you moved slightly nonetheless, a small, victorious smile finding your face. “That’s it. You got it.” You gripped her arms tighter for more support, trying again, this time succeeding at gaining a wider range for the movement which in turn allowed you to gain more speed. “Try the other foot and then alternate.”

“I’m doing it!” You squealed, kicking yourself forward in small bursts that would not get you far, but at least you were moving.

“You are!” Natasha backed away skillfully on her skates every time you moved forward, maintaining the small gap between your bodies so that you could continue to use her as support. “You’re doing so well”, she praised, giving you a bright smile that you matched immediately. “Try to kick a little harder.” You did a few more small kicks before daring to widen the range of the movement. You were surprised by how much more power you managed to get into the action, pushing Natasha back just a little harder with each kick you did. “There you go!” You let out a small, gleeful laugh, this time looking down at your feet in disbelief over what you had just learned. Your eyes rose up to meet Natasha’s.

“I wanna try without support”, you said in a voice filled with a certain kind of wonder, prompting Natasha to let go of your hands as your slow gliding over the ice came to a stop. “But stay near”, you blurted immediately, Natasha chuckling softly, nodding her head. She couldn’t have gone far even if she had wanted to. She couldn’t imagine letting you out of her sight ever again.

“I’ll keep an eye out”, she hummed in amusement. “Just brace your core and use your arms to balance yourself.” You nodded in acknowledgment, watching her back away slightly to give you room. You started off with small kicks, pathetic ones really, but at least you managed to stay upright. You brought your arms on either side of you to search for balance, carefully kicking yourself forward, Natasha observing the process with a giddy grin on her lips. You had a determined frown on your face that made Natasha’s chest ache from how adorable you were. She felt a yearning so strong it threatened to consume her fully. It physically hurt not to touch you, not to hold you, not to hug you. The joy that exuded from you made her want to be a part of it. She wanted to kiss those lips that joy had turned up into a smile. She wanted to feel the palpable excitement and happiness that you were experiencing. She wanted to fully share it with you, but her past was holding her back, you were holding her back.

“Look, look! I’m going so fast.” Your voice pulled Natasha out of her heartache, her expression brightening up immediately at your comical posture as you bravely skated toward her, rapidly closing the gap that had formed between you as she had glided out of your reach. Since you didn’t look like you needed any aid in the process, she continued to back away from you to see if you could gain a bit of confidence on your feet. You kept kicking, growing braver with the force behind each movement, finally starting to take proper strides across the ice. “Natasha!” You squealed from pure excitement, the sound of it, the simple act of saying her name bringing a subtle sting to her eyes. She bit her lower lip to control the wave of emotion that pierced through her. You were thankfully far away enough to not see the way her eyes welled up with burning hot tears, the way her lower lip trembled briefly like a whisper in the wind. “Can you see?” She laughed quietly, her tears spilling over.

“I can!” She brought her mittens subtly up to her cheeks to dry off her tears. You were thrilled to discover that the faster you went the easier it felt to balance yourself, kicking hard enough to reach a running pace. What had initially been a good ten feet (3 meter) gap between you and Natasha narrowed down in the blink of an eye. You let out a horrified squeal.

“How do I stop-!” You gave Natasha no time to answer before you collided with her rather harshly, your feet threatening to slip out from beneath you, but her firm arms locked around you and held you upright. Your perfume wafted over Natasha, her eyes fluttering closed on their own, savoring the smell of home for the brief moment that she was blessed with. Your scent wasn’t the exact same that she was used to but there was something that made it so you. She allowed her face to press into your warm scarf, her heart fluttering in pure agony from your proximity. All you could do was let out another small scream as your skates fumbled for a footing, but with Natasha’s help you managed to avoid throwing you both onto the ice. “Oh, my god.” You giggled quietly, pushing yourself slightly away from her to create some distance between you. “I’m so sorry.” Your face was heating up rapidly, your lower abdomen overtaken by a swarm of butterflies. You could barely look her in her gorgeous eyes as you gathered yourself, her hands steadying you by gripping your waist to help you find balance again. You cursed your thick coat for not allowing you to properly feel her touch to its full extent.

“You alright?” She asked a bit playfully, bringing a grin of mild embarrassment to your face.

“Yeah.” You lingered in her hold, your hands on her biceps as you both just looked at each other. She had reddened cheeks, the tip of her round nose a similar shade of pink, her curls ruffled by the cold wind. She had a soft smile on her face, one that almost felt adoring. “So, how do I brake?” You asked quietly, nervous that you might have made her uncomfortable with your amateur skating skills, but the longer you looked at that smile, the more you felt like maybe it was alright. Maybe she wasn’t easily offended, and maybe, just maybe, you were getting closer to one another. Her smile widened as she slid you back enough for you both to look down at your skates.

“You turn your feet inward as if forming a triangle with them. That should slow you down enough.” She demonstrated the movement to you with her own feet, glancing up at you as if to see if you were following along. You gave her a slight smile, gripping her arms for support. You returned your gaze to your feet, turning both toes toward the middle to form a triangle with your feet.

“How’s that gonna stop me? I’m gonna fall on my face”, you said in an amused tone, eliciting a laugh from Natasha.

“Just try it. Be gentle with it.” She backed away from you, albeit a little reluctantly, giving you the space to try braking. You watched her skate away from you, her feet swirling over the ice in a practiced manner. You could tell she had most likely been skating all her life. She knew how to turn around with ease, her feet seeming to move on their own. Her skating almost reminded you of a dance, her elegance nothing short of a figure skater. You gave her a sheepish smile before carefully starting to skate after her, kicking your feet to the side one at a time to gain speed on the ice. You didn’t want to go too fast on your first try, settling for a moderate walking pace. You turned your feet inward, your hands groping the air for support as you slowed down gradually, immediately looking up at Natasha to see if she had witnessed your success. She had her mittens over her mouth to prevent her from laughing at the comical and rather childish sight of you, but she found it irresistibly adorable, nonetheless.

“Just like that!” You could hear her melodic laughter, but you couldn’t see her, all too focused on your feet. You kept practicing, slowly getting the hang of the entire process of skating, gaining enough confidence on ice to be able to skate alongside Natasha and keep up with her. You skated to her side, grinning widely, your appearance disheveled from wind and exercise. She couldn’t help but to return the expression, both of you continuing to skate around the rink at a comfortable pace.

“Can you believe I’ve not fallen once?” You asked with a hint of smugness in your tone.

“Honestly, no.” She chuckled. “Doesn’t seem right.” You gave her a self-assured look that made her roll her eyes in good nature. “Maybe I should give you a bit of a shove to see how long that lasts.” She moved her hand toward you ominously, clearly with the intention of testing your balance. You squeaked, pushing on the brakes to get out of her reach, her pleased chuckle sounding from ahead. You returned to her side after deeming her company to be safe again.

The amount of focus you were putting on skating hadn’t left you much room to focus on the physical connection you had shared with Natasha in the beginning, only allowing you to properly acknowledge it once you had managed to get the gist of skating and had lost that physical connection with her. You wanted to experience it again. You wanted to somehow make contact with her as you skated in comfortable silence, observing the park and the people around you. There were children and families having fun, friend groups and couples messing about in the rink, your attention drawing to the hand-holding couples time and time again. You glanced down at Natasha’s mitten, her hand swinging back and forth between you as she skated by your side.

“I wanna see how fast I can go”, you informed her, her head turning to face you.

“Wanna race?”

“I don’t think I’m steady enough for that.” You let out a small chuckle, feeling nervous butterflies in your abdomen. “Could I hold your hand… for balance?” Natasha’s heart jumped at the request, her hand coming up for you to hold in an instant.

“Of course.” You placed your mitten in hers, longing to feel her touch without any barriers between you, but you were willing to settle for any kind of contact with her. “Wanna go a little faster?”

“Yes.” You couldn’t help but to grin, immediately starting to match her quickening pace, your mind stuck on the hand you were squeezing. You were holding hands, warmth spreading rapidly beneath your thick coat only to add to the heat generated by physical exercise. You tightened your pace up to running speed, the wind ruffling your hair and freezing your face as you raced forward, the scrape of the blades against the ice sounding beneath you. It felt freeing, thrilling, different.

“You keeping up alright?” You found it sweet that she had thought to ask you.

“Yeah! Let’s go faster!” She gave you a joyous grin, her hand tightening its grip on you as she upped her speed, tugging you along with her. You pushed yourself to the fastest pace you could manage without losing balance, gripping Natasha’s arm with both of your hands to help with balance. It was nerve wracking yet thrilling to go fast. It provided you with a similar sense of freedom running did. “Faster!” Natasha laughed at your enthusiasm, heeding your command, her feet moving even faster than before.

You laughed out of joy and for no particular reason, enjoying the feeling of contentment that invaded your chest. You sped past most of the people in the rink, your skates gliding smoothly over the ice until the saw-edged tip of your blade found a deep and unexpected dent. You stumbled forward, your feet automatically taking steps forward as if you would have had flat footing on the ground, but each step you took on your skates only made you slip and slide more out of control, Natasha’s stable arm unable to do anything to prevent it. You let out a scream, scrambling forward quite aggressively, before you managed to yank back your upper body in an attempt to find balance again, but you failed to consider the fact that you could also fall backwards, your feet slipping out from beneath you. Natasha felt a harsh yank on her arm accompanied by a high-pitched squeal before her body collided with the ice. You let out a loud cough, trying to make your lungs work again after suffering such a rough blow.

“Fuck”, you moaned in pain, blinking your eyes open to see the cloudy sky above before you yanked your head to the side to see how Natasha was doing. She let out a similar kind of sound that you had, her brows drawn together in pain. She could feel you looking at her, prompting her to turn her head to the side as well. You looked at each other for a moment, acknowledging the pained yet amused looks on each other’s faces before bursting into laughter. Your whole backside ached, your lungs feeling weak from having lost all the air from them, but it wasn’t going to stop your fun. “I’m- I’m sorry. Are you okay?” You asked between small chuckles, one of your hands still clutching her own. You made a conscious decision not to let go.

“I’m alright, detka (baby).” Her tone was so soft, so gentle and assuring that you felt your features soften, the pained frown on your face dissolving. She gave you a beaming smile that you returned, your eyes finding the sky above you once more. She copied your actions, your hands still linked, the few stray snowflakes that floated down from the sky catching your attention briefly. You took a deep breath, glancing at Natasha and her gorgeous side profile, taking a brief moment to remember how you felt in the moment because you were going to cherish that feeling for when the inevitable post-New Year depression would hit.

You didn’t skate for much longer after the painful fall you had both taken, ushered inside by your aching tailbones and freezing toes. You left the skating rink and Central Park altogether to look for someplace nice where you could sit and talk as a way of prolonging your date for just a little bit longer. You didn’t want to part ways with her, not when you knew that upon entering your home you would be consumed by an onslaught of daydream scenarios that would drive you insane in an attempt to make up for the lack of her presence. Natasha quite literally dreaded leaving your side. She had nothing left in the world. She had no life there. You were it. You were everything, and she hadn’t thought it through. She hadn’t made a single decision with ration, having given all the power to her bleeding heart. She knew that if she went into her apartment, she would be met with an unbearable sense of longing; a pain so intrinsic and violent that it was hard to get through the night. The only reason she managed was because she had a link to you and there was potential there.

You landed in a nearby coffee shop that had an inviting, living room type of interior that begged for you to just sit down and talk as you warmed up your freezing bodies, sun slowly setting outside and bringing a comforting darkness with it that allowed all the endless Christmas lights of New York City to shine brightly. You got yourself a huge, steaming hot chocolate and a savory croissant to both warm you up and ease your hunger. Natasha ordered a chai latte and a huge cranberry-orange muffin because she was evidently immune to sugar. You sat in a quiet booth at the back of the full cafe, chatting away under a dim, warm lamp that hung above your heads. You ate your food, or rather ended up sharing it, discussing the latest events from your lives with the emphasis on your mundane life because Natasha preferred it that way. You could talk about anything with her, managing to jump from one topic to another with ease. The conversation simply flowed naturally between you, sometimes bouncing between subjects, or losing train of thought, and other times circling back to the beginning. You felt comfortable around her which in turn made you open up like a flower to the beaming sun.

“I always liked winter. When I was in high school, I remember kids whining about snow and how cold it was, but it never bothered me like it did them”, you explained in a quiet, rather intimate tone, your fingers playing with your mug of hot chocolate, most of the drink gone. You gave her a look, Natasha’s eyes glued to you, her demeanor screaming attentive as she listened to every word you had to say. Your lips stretched into a brief smile as you directed your gaze at the table again. “I love the snow. I love how pure it is, how it glistens in the sun, or in the moonlight.” Her hand rested naturally on the table, her slender fingers slightly bent to form the shape of an upside down cup. “I guess I kind of forgot to enjoy it with work and all.” The hand on the table was almost daunting you, begging for your attention, but you couldn’t expose what was going on in your mind as you fiddled with your porcelain mug.

“Sometimes it can be hard to slow down. Especially with a job like yours”, she hummed in understanding. You nodded your head, lifting your gaze up to meet her own.

“What about you?” You slid your hand in the most subtle way you knew how over the small distance that your hands shared on the narrow, wooden table, the cool tips of your fingers brushing against the top of her forefinger. You felt a rush of heat, a rapid wave of warmth that spread in your lower abdomen and up your neck to your face in anticipation of her reaction to such a straightforward move. She seemed to remain her levelheaded self, however her fingers did react to your touch, moving just as delicately in response. You didn’t dare move any closer, trying your best to focus on what she had to say instead of ogling down at your barely joint hands, but it turned out to be incredibly hard because your fingers weren’t just touching but they were caressing each other, gently stroking the skin in an undeniably intimate way. You had never felt such heat from an act so simple.

“I’ve been a winter’s child since birth.” She chuckled quietly. “I didn’t have much of a choice. Being born in December and all.” You circled your finger around hers, receiving a similar response from her, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a brief smile.

“I’m guessing you didn’t have much of a choice either in Russia.” She chuckled quietly at your words.

“No.” She hadn’t spoken much about her past. You had managed to get to know her on a personality level. You knew what she liked, what she enjoyed, what she cared about, but you didn’t know almost anything about her past. She didn’t like to talk about her education or work, neither of which you considered all that important, but you couldn’t deny your curiosity.

“How was school in Russia?” You were hoping to find confirmation on what topics she was willing to share with you. She averted her eyes from you, watching your fingers play with each other as she gathered her thoughts.

“I went to a very different school than the rest of the kids my age”, she began. “It was based on extreme discipline and abuse even. I’m not too fond of recalling those days.” It was her easy way of passing up on your topic of choice. “But winter I always liked.” You couldn’t help the small smile you acquired onto your face. “I don’t even mind the cold. It makes me feel alive.” You stroked her fingers comfortingly, the touch remaining shy and timid, but it seemed rather fitting for the intimate moment. You continued to talk for a long while until the coffee shop began to empty. Your drinks were gone, and you were both yawning competitively behind your free hands in between lax conversation about nothing at all. It was comfortable, unserious. It felt very healing. There was no rush, no pressure, no underlying motives. It was simply raw human connection, mediated by no external factors and reflected in the gentle touch of your fingertips.

You left the cafe before the staff had the chance to come usher you out, your hand bravely finding hers again when you stepped outside into the crisp air, your breath turning into a white cloud of vapor. You had purposely stuffed your mittens into your pocket to maintain the skin-on-skin contact with her, and you weren’t the slightest bit ashamed of it. Her hand was warm, soft, and made your heart beat out of rhythm. The streets around you were full of life which was rather typical for New York, chatter, laughter, shouting resonating in the streets. It was nice to walk around when you weren’t in a rush to complete errands or running late for rehearsals. You got to truly take in the atmosphere and enjoy it, admiring the different kinds of Christmas decorations that had been put up on the streets. There was a pathway made out of arched garlands, the spruce branches donning red and gold baubles to resemble Christmas trees, twinkling lights wrapped around the arches. You steered Natasha into the direction of the pathway, intending to walk from beneath it to fully experience the sight.

The cold wind nipped your nose and the apples of your cheeks, drying out your skin. The weather was growing colder and more ruthless by the hour, a strong gust of wind blowing right into your faces. It grabbed the end of your scarf and threw it over your shoulder, neatly undoing the wrap around your neck. You squinted your eyes closed to evoke getting any ice dust into your eyes, bringing a hand to cover your face and turning your body toward Natasha for shelter as she did the same. You both paused automatically to wait out the harsh wind, Natasha’s hand finding your scarf once the worst of the gust was over to wrap the garment back around you to keep you warm. Your heart felt restless beneath the layers of clothing you wore, a strong sense of giddiness finding your chest from her attentive gesture. You averted your eyes from her to hide how flustered she made you, your eyes catching the gaze of a middle-aged woman that was standing by the front door of an office building. She snuffed out her cigarette, glancing above you with a knowing, almost teasing smile before her eyes returned to your own.

As an automatic reaction you tilted your head back to look above you, Natasha naturally copying the action to see what had gained your attention. You both stared at the small bundle of green that hung slightly below the spruce sprigs and baubles, swinging gently and oh-so innocently in the wind. Your gaze returned down to meet Natasha’s, your stunned expression mirrored by one of her own. You felt the need to express to her that she didn’t have to take the mistletoe seriously, that you would understand if it was too awkward or weird for you to participate in such a tradition, but just as you were about to open your mouth, Natasha hushed you gently as if aware of the train of thought going on inside your head.

“Just go with it”, she whispered, her hand finding your arm in a gentle caress to bring you closer. You couldn’t help but to give her a nervous smile as butterflies invaded every inch of your body.

You felt your face heat, your heart falling out of rhythm as a spark of electricity spread across your chest, descending rapidly down your spine and into your lower abdomen, and she hadn’t even kissed you yet. You responded to her initiative and leaned in, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt her bare fingers brush over your cheek to guide your mouth to hers. You brought your hands up to her waist for balance, your knees feeling wobblier than they had on the ice. Your lips pressed against hers in the most gentle and delicate way you could imagine, allowing you to feel the moment to its fullest extent. You felt her warm mouth, her warm breath against you, her damp lips molding over your own to make you dizzy with the need for more. You managed to gain some control over your oddly weak hands to pull her closer, parting your lips to kiss her deeper. You couldn’t have overthought the decision even if you had wanted to. The second your lips touched hers, your mind was wiped blank and the only thing you could manage was to seek more of that liberating feeling of relief.

Natasha was fighting the urge to breach the boundaries of an appropriate first kiss, her body recognizing your familiarity, begging for more of what Natasha had come to consider as her home over the years. Memories flashed across her mind, various ones that had started the same way as that innocent kiss under the mistletoe. She felt both elated and devastated, her heart tearing into two, unable to decide which side to listen to. She kissed you a little harder, sucking on your top lip with ardent greed as she did her best to savor the moment because she wasn’t guaranteed another. She had learned that the hard way. She knew she didn’t have long left of the kiss, her yearning heart unprepared to withstand the cruel departure that was ahead of her. But all she could do was peck your lips once more before pulling away to avoid making a scene in the middle of the street where people already had to go around you to avoid bumping into you.

Your eyes fluttered open to see her face, lips curving automatically up into a smile that lit your entire face with joy. Natasha couldn’t help but allow her hand to caress your cheek for just a little longer, her thumb tracing the edge of your lower lip in admiration. You felt such immediate giddiness flash through you that it was almost hard to contain. You felt the urge to squeal, maybe kick your feet and screech like an animal from how excited you were, but you could not have Natasha witness such behavior, so you settled for taking her hand back into yours and continuing your walk down the lively street, neither of you ready to say a single word that could shatter your romantic bubble of excitement that was mixed with a hint of disbelief.

Chapter Text

You could not deny it, you wanted to see Natasha. You liked her, you genuinely liked her, so much so that you no longer felt the need to adhere to any implicit social rules about new acquaintances. The kiss that you had shared with her two days prior was confirmation enough for you and boosted your confidence immensely. She enjoyed your company just the same, lowering the threshold of asking her to spend her free time with you. There was something specific you had in mind, a step that you were rather inclined and excited to take. You wanted to spend time with her in a place where you could fully relax, in a place with no additional pairs of eyes. You wanted privacy and intimacy. Neither of you had yet seen each other’s apartments, which gave you the wonderful opportunity to invite Natasha over for a casual evening in your living room. You had found a person that made your skin prickle with joy and excitement, it was only natural for you to crave her presence and her company when you were home alone dreaming about what it might have been like with her by your side instead. You had returned home from rehearsals just a few dozen minutes ago when you made your decision, picking up your phone to dial Natasha’s number.

“Hey, Nat. I was wondering if you’d like to come over…” You frowned to yourself, holding your phone in your hand, thumb hovering above the call button. “Is that weird? Does it sound sexual?” You didn’t know how to word it in a way that didn’t sound like you had been kissed once and now wanted more. “Hi, my roommate’s gone for the night- No. That's even worse.” You sighed in frustration, dialing the number without further fuss about words. You were only going to get yourself worked up about something that didn’t even need to be complicated. You brought the phone to your ear, fiddling with your hair as you listened to it ring.

“Hi!

“Hey.” She sounded like she was smiling, you hoped she was smiling.

“Are you doing anything today?” You asked in a hopeful tone, looking out the window as you waited for her answer.

“No, I just came home.”

“Perfect. Would you wanna come over? We could just hang out and maybe watch a movie or something.” You bit your bottom lip out of nerves, feeling a tiny seed of doubt in the pit of your stomach. Maybe it really had just been the mistletoe.

“God, I’d love to. I could use a little break from work stuff.” You grinned like a madman from pure excitement “Text me your address and I’ll be there in an hour or so.”

“Okay! I’ll see you then.” You could barely contain your excitement, your cheeks hurting from smiling.

“See you.” You had called her before on a few occasions, but you would never get over the thrill you got from hearing her voice right by your ear. It was always so smooth and soft. It made you want to close your eyes so you could enjoy every last drop of it.

You walked into the living room, or let’s be honest, you skipped into the living room, plopping down onto the couch to stare at your ceiling after you had messaged her your address. You did have things to do that some might have considered more important, but you were unable to even think about what your roommate had told you to do that morning when your mind was so full of Natasha. You clutched your phone to your chest, swinging your feet that hung over the armrest of the couch as you replayed the kiss from two days ago in your head. It had been so magical. It had felt so thrilling and wonderful and downright dizzying. You could almost feel the way her soft lips had pressed against yours, the way they had moved so gently at first, so carefully as if unsure of what you might have been prepared for. And then the kiss had slowly become deeper, firmer. You recalled the way her tongue had caressed your top lip, your body warming up at the mere thought. You closed your eyes, imagining how exciting it would be to get to kiss her again, to feel more of her, to spend a night with her, to curl up in her embrace and fall asleep there to the sound of a movie playing in the background. Your abdomen bubbled with pleasant warmth, your hands reaching for a pillow to hug as you allowed the comforting image to sink in. You could not wait for Natasha to come over, and somehow time was for once on your side because before you even knew it, the doorbell rang.

You blinked your eyes open in confusion, refusing to believe that you had just spent a significant amount of time daydreaming instead of doing any of the house chores your roommate had asked you to do. You got up from the couch, glaring at the two large boxes that sat by the entrance to the living room on your way to the door. You would simply have to take your roommate’s scolding as a punishment for your laziness and move on with your life. You reached the door, your hand flying to the knob to yank it open, a blissful thrill going through you.

“Hi.” She looked and sounded delighted, her signature reserved smile threatening to escape her control. Natasha was truly over the moon about spending an entire evening with you, or rather half a day with you because it was only afternoon, and she was not going to leave unless you shoved her out the door yourself.

“Hi.” You grinned widely, immediately welcoming her into a hug, your face pressing into the lush, dark brown fur lapels of her coat. She smelled heavenly, your eyes sliding shut on their own as her hand stroked your back briefly. You pulled away before you managed to make anything awkward. “Did you find it here alright?”

“Yeah, no problem.” She smiled a little wider, looking around the brownstone as she hung her shoulder purse on the coat rack that stood at the entrance of the house. It was dark wood and vintage, a piece your roommate had discovered from the very back of a furniture section at a thrift store. You took her coat as an act of hospitality and hung it up on a hanger to prevent wrinkles. “Thank you”, she hummed softly, toeing off her snowy shoes and leaving them by the door to avoid causing a slipping hazard on your floors. “I like your place. It’s truly beautiful. I was already looking at the houses outside when I came here. Such a gorgeous neighborhood.”

“Oh, yes. I love it here.” You felt like you couldn’t stop smiling.

“How long have you lived here?” You couldn’t help but to pay attention to her appearance as she ran her hand through her hair, ruffling her curls as if to make sure that the wind hadn’t put them out of place, your gaze flitting briefly down to her simple outfit of flared suit pants and a soft-looking white sweater. You kind of wanted to feel if it was as soft as it looked.

“Hmm, maybe four years now, I’d say.” You could feel her gaze slide down your body to take in what was a display of your slightly elevated lounge apparel. You had a relatively stylish knit sweater on, paired with comfortable, yet sleek pants to ensure that you came off as put-together but remained comfortable in your own home.

“If I lived here, I’d never move.” She let out a soft chuckle, her attention shifting to her purse. She pulled out a flat box, offering it to you. It had a red exterior, the cardboard decorated by golden baubles engraved into the material. You recognized the brand, a small frown of disbelief finding your face.

“Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything.” You received the package anyway, admiring its simplistic beauty.

“I wanted to. It’s proper manners.” She gave you a small smirk. “They were far too adorable. I couldn’t resist it.” Her comment made you smile even wider as you opened the lid to take a look inside. It was a Christmas luxury chocolate assortment of fifteen pieces that had clearly each been carefully crafted. Your attention was immediately drawn to a small black and brown penguin with yellow feet. You smiled at the sight. .

“The penguins have yellow feet”, you hummed in amusement, bringing a grin to Natasha’s face.

“They do.”

“I’m gonna have a penguin praline”, you informed her, picking out the adorable penguin as you eyed the flavors listed on the inside of the lid. “Have you had these before?” You offered the box to Natasha as she nodded her head.

“Yeah, my favorite is maple pecan.” She selected her chosen chocolate from the assortment, the pecan half on top signaling her what was on the inside. She brought the candy to her lips, your eyes dipping down to said part of her face, forcefully tearing your gaze off her to avoid exposing what was going on in your mind.

“I’ll try that next then. Anyways, come in, make yourself at home. If you need anything, just ask. We can listen to music –the stereo is right there–or put a movie on, and if you want any snacks or something to drink I’ve got it all.” You walked into the living room, setting the chocolate box down on the coffee table, gesturing for Natasha to join you.

“Thank you.” She took another look at the interior of the house as she slowly followed in your footsteps, her eyes locking on the cardboard boxes you had left lying around. She frowned at the bit of red that peeked from the box that was stacked the highest, her head turning to you for an explanation. “I thought you weren’t a Christmas person.” You let out a little groan of frustration for having once again forgotten about the boxes and your roommate’s request.

“I’m not. Sorry about the mess. God, she's gonna kill me.” Natasha raised her brows in search for an explanation, eliciting a small chuckle from you. “My roommate. She asked me to decorate the house while she’s at work because she’s going out with her friends for the evening. She’s had to put it off for ages because she’s been so busy, and now it’s almost Christmas and there are still no decorations.”

“I’ll help you.” Your eyes widened. “It’ll be fun.”

“No, no, you don’t have to. It’s my mess.” You sat down on the couch, shaking your head in protest.

“I actually really want to. I have no decorations at home to hang up.” You glanced at Natasha who was still standing by the boxes. “I’m sure your roommate will appreciate it.” You looked at Natasha and her smile for a moment longer before caving.

“Alright.” You got up and walked over to her and the boxes, her smile widening into a grin as both your hands reached for the flaps of the cardboard boxes to open them up.

“There are only a few items that have designated places, I’ll take care of those, but the rest are up for grabs.” You lifted up one of the three boxes, prompting Natasha to do the same so you could bring them into the living room where you would have tabletop space to spread out the decorations before finding them appropriate places in the house.

“Got it. Where did you say the stereo was?” She had a small, mischievous smirk on her lips.

“Right below the TV.” You watched her set down the final box before moving to the TV stand. “Just plug your phone in and you can play whatever you want.”

“Thank you, darling.” Your attention shifted immediately to the Christmas ornaments to hide how flustered you got from the endearment, your cheeks flashing with warmth. It didn’t take Natasha long to find the stereos, the familiar tune of Last Christmas billowing into the living room. You rolled your eyes, turning to her with a deadpan look on your face.

“Really?”

“I can’t decorate without some jolly tunes”, she said in a teasing tone that immediately brought a smile to your face.

“Fine, just this once.” You moved to the decorations, starting to pick them apart so you could find appropriate spots for them in the living room. You were quite frankly over the specific Christmas song that all the stores in Manhattan evidently couldn’t get enough of, but you sucked it up because it made her happy. You pulled out tangled up Christmas lights, focusing on the task at hand so that you could get it out of the way as quickly as possible and before your roommate returned home from work.

Your focus was strayed by a gentle humming sound, your head turning toward Natasha who was knelt on the floor beside one of the boxes, sorting through a collection of porcelain angels. You tried your best to be discreet so that you wouldn’t disturb her quiet singing. It was very tame and gentle, absentminded really. She was mouthing some of the words here and there, alternating between humming and singing. It made you want to sing. You couldn’t deny it. You knew the melody and the lyrics from how many times in your life you had been forced to listen to the song, and as someone who sang for a living, you found it difficult not to join her. Out of principal you denied yourself the joy of singing along to sappy Christmas songs, but as Natasha’s singing got a bit more prominent after the song changed to yet another classic Christmas song, you almost felt left out when you glanced at your companion who was now singing all the lyrics, her body swaying along to the music as if she was warming herself up for dancing. Natasha brought one of the porcelain angels to her mouth as if it was a microphone.

“I won’t even ask for snow”, you hummed almost shyly, joining her singing as you finally managed to straighten out the lights enough to be able to weave them through the railing of the staircase that led to the second floor. Natasha upped the volume of the music subtly, her singing matching the change. Her singing voice was airy, softer than her low speaking voice. Your participation made Natasha smile. Her plan was working. “ I’m just gonna keep on waiting underneath the mistletoe”, you sang slightly louder, falling victim to the catchy tune. Natasha gave you a small, knowing look that made you huff in mild annoyance. “What? I like to sing.” You both knew that, but it was rather a matter of what you were singing. She smirked.

“Come on, baby, show me how it’s done.” You moved a bit apprehensively away from the staircase, taking the makeshift microphone that she was offering to you. The tall angel and her white dress made you chuckle as you brought the halo end of the statue to your mouth.

“I won’t even stay awake to hear those magic reindeer click.” It felt good to sing. Despite the fact that you sang all the time, every day, this singing was different. It was casual and comfortable. It was a way to let go instead of a way to perform and present yourself to a crowd. Natasha looked enamored, her face reflecting the joy your beautiful voice brought to her. She gave you a small smile that was somehow brighter than any other smile she could have given you. She joined your singing, grabbing another angel statue for herself to use as a microphone. You walked closer to the middle of the living room that quickly became a makeshift stage for you, your singing getting louder to match the playback from the stereo. Your body moved gently to the rhythm of the song to copy Natasha and her playful demeanor.

“Cause I just want you here tonight, holding on to me so tight.” You felt your cheeks heat at the lyrics you sang, unwilling to admit that there was a hint of truth to them. There was a reason you were hoping to watch movies on the couch all night long. You wanted closer to her on a physical level. You wanted to know what it would be like, and if it would match the fantasies in your head. “What more can I do? Baby, all I want for Christmas is you.” You sang and you danced together, forgetting the task of decorating the house for a brief moment, too wrapped up in your fun to even care. Natasha grabbed your free hand, lifting it up in a prompt for you to do a little spin for her. You let out a small chuckle, deciding to do the same for her so she could get a bit of spinning in herself.

A few songs later you had managed to get back into the groove of decorating, upping your speed significantly once you realized that your roommate would already be on her way home. You packed up all the regular decor from your windowsills and shelves to make space for the Christmas ornaments, really loading up on all the beautiful elves, angels, and animals your roommate had collected over the years. You hung up a few garlands here and there, adding lights into the kitchen and a large star light on one of the windows facing the streets. You weren’t far from sweating by the time you had emptied the cardboard boxes all over the house and thus completed the task.

“What about upstairs?” Natasha asked in mild puzzlement as she filled the boxes with the previously used room decorations.

“We don’t really decorate upstairs cause we only have our bedrooms and a bathroom there. My roommate will take care of hers. I’m not gonna bother with mine.”

“Why, of course you are.” Natasha gave you a chastising look. “We can’t have come this far just for you to flake out on me now.” You rolled your eyes.

“I don’t need a bunch of elf decorations watching me sleep. Or do anything else.” Natasha gave you a look that made the corners of your mouth curve up. The mirth in her eyes made you give up. You wanted to please her.

“Fine, follow me.” You hoisted one of the full boxes from the floor and took it with you, Natasha following suit with a victorious grin on her lips. You went up the stairs and turned to the right toward the back of the house, setting your box down in the hallway before opening the door to your room. It felt awfully intimate to watch her walk inside your bedroom, your safe space and comfort, but it didn’t feel intrusive because she didn’t look like she was there to snoop around but simply observe a more authentic side of you. She took in the art hung up on your walls, all the small trinkets and decorations that you might have put up over the years of making the space your own. She looked at the curtains, the bedding, the rug on the floor, noting how each of the pieces somehow reflected your personality and style.

“I really like your room. It’s so cozy.” She looked around the room with a small smile on her lips, her gaze focusing on the bed that was pushed perfectly in front of the window to allow you a look at the snowy courtyard. “I love the layout.”

“Thank you.” You smiled to yourself, pleased by her compliments. “I’m a big fan of it myself”, you chuckled. “I don’t want anything crazy done here. Just a few tinsel garlands and candles should do it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” And just like that your smile was paired with a gentle heat on your cheeks that spread down your neck.

You finished decorating just in time for your roommate’s return, the door thudding loudly enough to be heard over the Christmas music that was still playing downstairs. You headed down to greet her with the intention of introducing Natasha to her in the process just so she would have a sense of who you were bringing into your shared home. It was somewhat of an unspoken rule between you. Natasha descended the stairs behind you, hearing some rustling from the kitchen.

“Hi.” You announced your presence to your roommate who appeared at the entrance of the house shortly after in a rush induced frenzy, taking a look at the decorated living room.

“Oh, you did decorate! Thank you so much. I wish I would’ve had the time. It looks amazing.” Her head turned from the interior decor to you and Natasha, slowly registering the presence of an unfamiliar face among you. Natasha froze.

“Yeah, we had a little fun with that”, you chuckled as you walked to the TV set to lower down the music to hear each other better before returning to Natasha’s side who stood at the foot of the stairs. Your roommate observed her for a moment, her round eyes taking in Natasha’s exterior, a calculating frown forming a tiny crease between her brows.

“This is my roommate Wanda”, you said brightly, gesturing into her direction. “Beware of her, she’s a little psychic”, you added teasingly, earning a roll of eyes and a chuckle from Wanda, but Natasha wasn’t laughing.

“I’m not.” Would Wanda know? Would she be able to tell? They looked at one another, Natasha offering a tentative smile to Wanda as if testing if her presence was welcome. Wanda didn’t indicate otherwise.

“Hi, I’m Natasha.” Natasha extended her hand forward to shake Wanda’s. The latter gave her hand a firm squeeze paired with a polite smile. Natasha couldn’t tell if she was imagining the odd tension between them or if there really was some form of acknowledgement between them. Was Wanda there to take her back? No, no, Natasha wasn’t ready. She couldn’t leave. She didn’t want to. For a moment, she felt a sudden panic rise to her chest, but when Wanda didn’t say anything, her intense green eyes laying off Natasha, she managed to gain control over the feeling.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’d love to stay and chat but I’m already running late, so you’ll have to excuse me.” She didn’t have an accent, the realization sinking into Natasha with full force, yet she didn’t know what that specific observation entailed.

“Oh, it’s alright. I hope you have fun with your friends”, Natasha assured, moving to stand closer to you as if needing to make sure that she could cling to you, if necessary, but nothing happened.

“Thank you.” Wanda smiled brightly, taking a look at herself in the entrance mirror, her long fingers decorated by a few tasteful rings brushing back her dark brown hair that reached just above her collarbones. It was styled into a relaxed blowout that framed her slim face, giving her an air of confidence typical for a New York corporate worker, something Natasha hadn’t expected from a baker, let alone Wanda. “There’s still some leftover eggnog in the fridge, if you want. Don’t let it expire; it was truly divine.”

“Got it.” You nodded your head, observing the way Wanda was wiping her lips dry before applying some more lip gloss. “Should we save you some or are you coming back at all?” Wanda gave you a sly look, a smile finding her glossed lips. She rubbed them together to spread the product evenly.

“Monica will be there. We’ll see if I get lucky tonight.” You and Wanda both smirked knowingly. Natasha observed the interaction, feeling a natural curiosity bubble within her as she moved into the living room to give you two more space.

“Text me the details then”, you hummed with an impish grin on your face, walking closer to Wanda and gently pushing her away from the mirror. “You look beautiful. Now go, you’re already late.” Wanda huffed in feigned annoyance before picking up her bag from the floor. She glanced past you to make sure Natasha couldn’t hear her, leaning a little closer.

“You sure about her?” You frowned at her conspiratorial tone.

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?” Wanda’s eyes flicked between your own as if assessing you.

“I don’t know. I guess it’s just my psychic abilities kicking in. I’m sensing something.”

“Yeah, right”, you laughed quietly, shoving her gently toward the door. “Go. Have fun.”

“Fine, fine. I’m going”, Wanda whined playfully, stumbling out the door right after. “Bye!”

“Bye!” You made sure the door was shut to keep the cold out before returning into the living room to join Natasha.

“She’s gay?” Somehow that didn’t seem right to Natasha. It was rather unexpected. She was so used to seeing Wanda and Vision together.

“Straight from the island of Lesbos.” Your answer made her laugh. “She’s been crushing on her coworker for ages, but there’s always something in the way with those two. I better receive a text from her tomorrow saying that they locked eyes for at least thirty seconds.”

“Wow. What’s the previous record?” You both laughed.

“I think five or ten. Apparently, Monica’s an intimidating woman.” You came to her side but didn’t sit down just yet.

“I know the feeling”, Natasha hummed in amusement.

“Yeah, me too.” You looked at each other for a moment. “You up for some eggnog and a movie?”

“Absolutely.”

Chapter Text

“We don’t have anything crazy to snack on, if I’m being honest. We have popcorn and… I mean we could always bake cookies or something. We have the ingredients cause Wanda likes to make everything from scratch.” You were raiding the cupboards in search of eligible snacks to complete your movie night with, Natasha’s eyes brightening at your suggestion immediately.

“Could we?” She approached you almost hopefully, clearly thrilled by the idea.

“Yeah, absolutely. Do you know how to bake?”

“No. You?” Natasha looked at you with a small, amused smirk.

“No.” There was a slight pause as you both just stared at each other with expectant excitement.

“This should be fun.” Natasha chuckled quietly as you reached for the cupboards to pull out ingredients.

“What do you even put into cookies?” You turned to look at Natasha helplessly, but she merely shrugged.

“Butter and sugar?” Her clueless expression made you laugh.

“Why don’t you pull up a recipe and I’ll fetch whatever ingredients it calls for?”

“Sounds like a plan.” She nodded in determination, heading into the living room to find her cellphone. “How do I know what’s a good recipe?”

“I don’t know. Look at the ratings. Also look for chocolate chips. I want the most loaded cookies ever.” You reached for a bag of flour and sugar on the top shelves.

“Yes, ma’am.” Natasha walked back into the kitchen, her eyes on the screen, fingers tapping away to find an eligible recipe.

“Oh, aprons!”

“Aprons?” Natasha looked up at you as you rushed to a different part of the kitchen cupboards.

“Yeah. We’re doing this with style.” You dug out two aprons that Wanda usually wore when she conquered the kitchen to fulfill both you and her late-night cravings. She was a skilled baker and had always been, which was a rather amazing advantage of having her as a roommate among other things, of course. “Do you want flowers or hearts?” You lifted up both of the aprons to show her the options, Natasha’s eyes scanning both garments carefully.

“Hearts, naturally.” She reached for the white apron with red hearts all over it.

“Of course.” You smirked knowingly, watching her spread open the piece of fabric.

“I’m a romantic at heart. I can’t help it”, she hummed playfully, clearly not all that serious about her comment but you did have a feeling that there might have been some truth to it despite her jovial tone. You unfolded your own apron, hanging it loosely around your neck before going back to reaching for flour from the top shelves of the cupboard. Natasha shook her head in mild amusement as if she knew just how typical of you your behavior was before taking a few steps to get behind you, her hands looping to your front to reach the strings of the apron. She pulled them back to tighten the garment around you, tying a firm bow at the middle of your back. You lowered down from your tip toes with your bag of flour in hand, your skin prickling with goosebumps at her proximity. You turned back to look at her over your shoulder, your faces mere inches apart.

Natasha wanted to kiss you. She wanted to kiss you with such unbelievable urgency and fervor that she could barely contain it. Her body longed for your warmth. She wanted physical contact with you, she wanted to touch you, to hold you. She craved to be near you. She could feel her cheeks heat, a slight blush spreading across her face, a blush that was so imperceptible you wouldn’t have noticed it had you not witnessed it develop over the apples of her cheeks. Your gaze dipped down to her plump lips. They were rosy and inviting. You could recall how soft they were, how warm, and how sweet and delicious their touch could be. Natasha had the perfect opportunity to kiss you. All the signs of approval were right there. You were on the same page with her, yet despite her immense desire and straight up need for it, she couldn’t do it. Your eyes met hers, causing her to avert her gaze. She stepped back and moved to her phone so she could list off all the rest of the ingredients.

“Butter, granulated sugar, brown sugar, eggs, vanilla extract, salt, baking soda, and flour. Oh, and chocolate chips.” You fetched each of the ingredients one by one until you had them gathered on the kitchen counter alongside a bowl and an electric hand mixer.

“It calls for room temperature butter. We should probably put this in the microwave”, Natasha reasoned as she sliced off the right amount of butter that you would need before plopping the rock-solid piece onto the bottom of the bowl. Heeding her command, you chucked it into the microwave for an indefinite amount of time.

“What’s the next step?” You asked while you waited for the microwave to do its magic, the kitchen filled with a distinct humming accompanied by quiet Christmas music from the living room.

“Hmm, we need a cup measure and then both kinds of sugars.” Natasha’s hand reached for the container of granulated sugar that sat beside the hand mixer, opening the lid for use.

“How long does it take for butter to melt?” You asked a bit warily.

“Not this long-” There was a loud pop that sounded from the microwave, a noise that suggested that you had a greasy mess waiting for you inside. You rushed to the microwave immediately, yanking open the door to stop the heating process, pulling out the hot bowl with yellow liquid inside.

“Room temp you said?” Natasha glanced at the bowl in your hands, an amused expression creeping onto her features.

“Yeah, if your room was in hell apparently”, she retorted, making you both laugh at her sarcasm.

“We can still use it. It’ll be fine. So, sugars next?” You brought the bowl back to its original place, Natasha taking another look at the recipe.

“Yeah. It says to whip the butter and sugars until light and fluffy.” She received the cup measure you gave her, pouring a half a cup of white sugar first into the measuring cup and then into the bowl. “And double the amount of packed brown sugar”, she hummed to herself, following the instructions.

“That’s a lot of sugar”, you pointed out, watching in curiosity as the huge cup-shaped chunk of sugar splashed into the butter.

“It’s a lot of butter”, she replied in a quiet chuckle. You set up the hand mixer while Natasha put away the sugars, lowering the whisks into the bowl. Even after a good while of mixing at the highest speed, the dough looked far from the desired consistency.

“Light and airy, right?” You frowned at the light brown mixture. Natasha took a peek into the bowl, trying to hold back her smile at the slimy end result.

“Good enough for me. Next up are eggs. We need two.” She reached for the carton of eggs beside her, picking out two large eggs, handing the other one to you after you had set down the mixer. You cracked yours in, watching Natasha do the same, a large shard of the shell falling into the bowl.

“I’d rather not have the crunch in my cookies come from eggshells”, you commented teasingly, earning an eye roll from Natasha that was followed by an ungodly long amount of time trying to fish out the shell from the slippery egg whites. She eventually managed to slide the chipped piece up the side of the bowl, finally ready to move on to the next step.

“Do you have a fourth of a cup measure?” Her eyes remained on her phone to read the recipe, her hands held up to her chest to avoid spreading the raw egg anywhere else.

“Yeah, of course.” You took a step forward to get past Natasha to where the drawers were. She moved at the same time, aiming for the sink that was behind you so she could wash her hands. You bumped into each other, once more face to face with no excuses and nothing to hold you back. She couldn’t help but to look down at your soft lips. She couldn’t resist the urge to at least look at them, a prominent warmth stirring within her entire being. She couldn’t handle the onslaught of emotions, the myriad of memories that would inevitably emerge to the forefront of her mind, so she let out a soft chuckle, moving past you to the sink, leaving you flustered out of your mind. For a moment you felt like you couldn’t even make your lungs function well enough to breathe. You had seen the way she had looked at you, how the longing looks in her eyes had moved down to your lips. You had really thought that she might kiss you, but you didn’t have the time to dwell on it, moving to the drawers to find you another measuring cup before whisking the eggs into the butter and sugar.

“Mm, goopy.” Natasha had a bright smile on her lips, that infectious expression immediately wearing off on you. She chucked in a pinch of salt followed by a teaspoonful of vanilla extract.

“Double it”, you said in a sneaky whisper, watching how Natasha gave you an amused look and poured another spoonful into the significantly fluffier dough that seemed to get closer to the desired consistency the more you whipped it.

“And how much flour and baking soda?” You asked once you had deemed the butter, sugar and egg mixture fluffy enough.

“Two and a fourth of a cup of flour and a teaspoon of baking soda.” She handed you the measures before putting away any of the used ingredients that were still lying around on the countertop.

“Coming right up.” Once the flour was in the bowl you turned the mixer on, switching it to the highest setting by accident, a spray of flour soon coating the front of your apron and the countertop around the bowl. You both burst into laughter, unable to resist the comfort and excitement that you both felt in each other’s presence. It was easy to laugh at little mistakes, it was fun to let go and enjoy something so simple as messing about in the kitchen. You couldn’t quite stifle your chuckles as you both cleaned up the mess, wiping the white dust off the counters before adding a bit of extra flour into the bowl to make up for what was lost. Natasha gave you a small look, rag still in hand, her eyes moving down to the front of your pink apron that had embroidered flowers decorating it. You felt a spark of warmth glide down your spine.

“Come here, detka (baby), I’ll get the worst of it off you.” She beckoned you to come closer, lifting the damp rag slightly as if adjusting it in her hand. And who were you to decline such an offer? You walked right to her side by the sink, allowing her to swipe off the worst of the flour that stuck to you, doing her best to aim it toward the sink, but all you could focus on was her touch against your chest and abdomen. She swiped her hand over your breasts, wiping the flour off you in short and firm movements but they affected you nonetheless. A gentle heat spread across your chest in a sharp, electric jolt before rising up your neck and to your ears when you realized that you wished for more of her touch and were looking for something more explicitly intentional than touch concealed by innocence.

“Chocolate”, you blurted out in a desperate attempt for some kind of distraction to prevent the warmth from spreading down between your legs, Natasha’s green eyes finding your own.

“Right. Chocolate.” She nodded her head, pulling away from you to let you move to the cupboards.

“Dark, white, milk or a combination of any of the above?” You turned to look at Natasha, showing her three different varieties of chocolate bars to choose from.

“Hmm, let’s do white and dark.”

“Ah, that’s my favorite! How did you know?” Your question was meant to be a rhetorical one, but to Natasha it meant more than you could’ve ever realized. She gave you a fond smile. It was comforting to know that some things were the same.

“I guess I’ve simply got impeccable taste”, she mused, receiving a cutting board and a knife alongside her respective bar of chocolate. You weren’t quite recovered from the handsy encounter by the time you had added the chopped chocolate into the cookie dough mixture, but you managed to keep your imagination in check as you pulled out baking trays and sheets for your cookies.

“How many did you say this makes?” You asked in mild concern as Natasha pulled up a third baking tray for you to use.

“Twelve.”

“Twelve? We’ve got twenty-four and counting more.” The shock on your face made Natasha snicker quietly, both of you still continuing to roll balls of sticky dough between the palms of your hands to create evenly shaped and sized cookies.

“It’s a good thing I wore loose pants today”, she chuckled, chucking another cookie ball onto the tray. “You could probably put the first two in the oven.”

“The oven? It’s not on.”

“Why’s it not on?” She seemed rather amused than annoyed or anything of the sort.

“I don’t know”, you giggled, moving to the oven to take out two racks that were inside, placing them onto the stove before turning the oven on. “This is going so well.”

“As long as they don’t burn”, she said reassuringly, sneaking a good-sized chunk of white chocolate and dough past her lips. You gave her a look. “Salmonella’s got nothing on me.”

“Who?” You seemed genuinely confused, like you actually did not know what she was referring to.

“You know, the bacteria in eggs?” You simply shook your head.

“I’ve never heard of that.”

“Oh, I guess only some countries have it then.” Natasha trailed off, moving to another subject, but taking a mental note to extend her research to commonly known diseases to make sure she was up to date with the ones you were familiar with.

While the cookies baked in the oven, you and Natasha returned into the living room with eggnogs in hand and a bowl of popcorn to go look at your selection of movies so that you could hopefully start watching once you were finished baking. Natasha sat on the couch, munching on popcorn as you scrolled through the movies available. A lot of them were at least somewhat familiar to her, but a significant portion of them were strange or had an unfamiliar casting, but she didn’t frankly care for what movie you were going to watch when she was more concerned with you and your presence. She watched you go through award winning movies before descending lower to find a collection of Christmas related movies.

“No way you have Mean Girls here”, Natasha gasped in earnest astonishment, your hand pausing the scrolling to find the movie she had pointed out. It was the version that she knew with the same cast and same style which was exactly why it stuck out to her. It was an unexpected piece of home much like the movie you had discussed on your first date. The version that she knew of it had come out decades ago, yet for you it was the blockbuster of the year.

“Oh, yeah. They finally have it available. It came out last year, I think. You wanna watch that?” You turned to look at Natasha expectantly. “Actually, fun fact, before they made the musical into a movie –you know, back in high school– I played Cady.” Natasha’s brows shot up in surprise, curiosity bubbling immediately inside her.

“Really? I can somehow see that for you.” You grinned brightly. “Well, hell, we don’t need to watch it from there then. The stage is yours, Miss Y/L/N.” She gestured toward the space between the couch and the TV. “I’ll take the live performance any day.” She spoke in a teasing tone, nudging you playfully.

“No.” You let out a shy, little giggle. “I don’t even remember the lyrics. That’s a lie”, you added immediately after, laughing again. “I still sing Cady’s and Regina’s songs in the shower sometimes.” Natasha brought her hand to her mouth to hide how big of a grin she had on her face. She had possibly never heard anything so adorable in her life. “It was a lot of fun back then. I also had a crush on the girl who played Regina.” You laughed quietly, a sense of nostalgia washing over you.

“I can see that as well”, Natasha laughed in mild amusement, grinning from ear to ear. You had always had a type. “You have a thing for mean lesbians.”

“Intimidating”, you corrected.

“Same difference”, Natasha hummed teasingly, observing the way you averted your gaze in a way you always did when you wanted to hide how flustered you were.

“Alright, well, in honor of that…” You pressed play on Mean Girls, heading into the kitchen to take the cookies out of the oven during the opening credits of the movie. You returned with a comically large plate of cookies, settling down on the couch beside Natasha.

The atmosphere was immeasurably warm and comforting. The lights were dimmed, some of the Christmas lights bringing a gentle golden glow into the living room that was filled with the scent of freshly baked cookies. You had blankets and pillows on the couch, your snacks, and the beautiful Christmas decorations that shimmered gently in the dim lighting, adding another layer to the atmosphere. Natasha’s eyes were on the screen as it introduced the main character, but your attention was far off Cady and her new adventures in life, mind stuck on the vacant spot beside Natasha. She was leaning her side against the couch backrest, her left elbow propped against it, knees bent over the cushions, causing her to be facing toward you. Her position felt inviting, at least if you asked for the opinion of your imagination that was busy conjuring up discreet ways of scooting into her side for some extra warmth in the cozy atmosphere you had created, the kiss still lingering on your mind ever-so persistently.

Natasha could feel your eyes glued on her, she could practically feel the pull that you experienced toward her because she felt it just the same, but neither of you wanted your desires to come off as pushy or too straightforward. It was only a matter of time and bravery. You tried to focus on the movie, but it was unbearable when Natasha’s arms were right there and so capable of holding you. Your attention shifted from the screen to the snacks that were out of your reach, prompting you to move off your sitting spot to reach for a sip of your drink. When you returned to your seat you were few inches closer to her. You glanced at Natasha, her head turning to you as she lifted her chin off the palm of her hand, extending her arm to the side as an invitation for you to come closer. It was a subtle and casual gesture, the gentle smile on her face soft and inviting. You felt yourself blush as you closed the gap between your bodies, averting your gaze to hide from her, her lips pressing down on the side of your head in a chaste kiss. Your entire body seemed to melt under the jolt of electricity that went through you, your cheeks heating to be searing hot. The sensation was only strengthened when Natasha pulled you against her, wrapping her arm around your shoulders.

You were on overdrive from the sole physical contact you had with her, never mind the heady scent of her perfume, the gentle tickle of her hair against your cheek, the undeniable warmth and life of another human, a human you were starting to become deeply interested in. You curled up against her, your body buzzing gently, heart beating out of rhythm as she slid her right hand over your knees, stroking the outside of your thigh with firm pressure as if to ensure that you were pressed up against her. You could not focus on the movie, and neither could Natasha. She couldn’t even pretend to focus anymore, your presence begging for her attention. After a moment longer of her hand fiddling with the fabric of your pants, her focus began to stray, her head turning to look at you, automatically prompting you to respond just the same. You were face to face, those gorgeous green eyes looking at you, taking up every ounce of space in your mind. Her gaze flicked down to your lips. No, you were not going to back out again. You wanted to taste her again, you wanted to feel like your chest was on fire again, the flames of that fire already licking your lower abdomen.

You leaned forward just a smidge, just enough for it to be noticed, Natasha’s breath tickling the delicate skin of your lips and chin. You felt goosebumps erupt down the skin of your forearms, your eyes glancing up at her own as if to confirm that your move was welcomed. She leaned closer, her eyes fluttering shut alongside your own as your mouths connected, her left hand sliding into your hair at the nape of your neck. It was the catalyst to you losing all the composure you had left. You couldn’t maintain the slow pace, parting your lips wider, allowing her better access. You felt your tongue glide against hers, butterflies erupting in your abdomen from the feeling, a pleasant buzz spreading across your entire body. You leaned closer to her, the kiss developing firmer, hungrier, needier. You felt her warm breath tickle your skin, the wetness of her soft mouth making you beg for more.

You slid your hand to her waist, feeling the fabric of her clothing, the firmness of her body, her right hand responding to the touch by coming up to your face. Her thumb stroked your jawline delicately, feeling the silky-smooth skin there. Her touch was so careful, almost admiring, but the hand at the back of your head was much firmer in contrast, guiding you to tilt your head back to find a better angle for the kiss. Natasha’s heart was hammering throughout her entire body. She couldn’t believe the rush of adrenaline that went through her. She couldn’t control herself, not when her deprived, shriveled up body was offered a cold, crisp and brightly glistening cup of water to revive it back to its prime. She needed you like she was starved because she genuinely was. She was starved from you, your presence, your love, your affection.

You felt so familiar against her body, so right, so perfectly fitting. That was where you belonged. That was where you were meant to be, where she was meant to be. Without you she was lost, drifting aimlessly in the universe. She needed you. Without you she had no purpose. She had no reason to go on. That’s how it had always been. She couldn’t live without you. Memories invaded her mind, the overwhelming sense of nostalgia mixed with more recent feelings of loneliness, agony, and heartbreak throwing her pulse off. She felt her cheeks grow warm in a way that she recognized to be the complete opposite from arousal, her eyes burning with tears. She eased her lips off yours, feeling like she was tearing a piece of her own flesh off herself, every ounce of her resisting the thought of parting from you. She looked at your beautiful face, your familiar and comforting features, averting her gaze when the image blurred in her vision. She pulled away from you.

“I’m gonna go get some fresh air”, she informed you quietly, getting off the couch with her head down, her hand wiping tears off her cheeks. You looked blankly after her, watching her exit the front door without so much as a glance back or a regard for taking something with her to keep her warm.

Natasha stepped into the cold, crisp air, a cloud of vapor leaving her mouth as she let out a long exhale. Her body was restless, causing her to pace back and forth on the final step of the porch stairs of the brownstone. She was trembling, her knees weak and unstable beneath her as she tried to contain the pain that resided in her chest, but she couldn’t. She sat down on the steps, furiously wiping her tears, but in vain. They streamed down her cheeks effortlessly, dripping into the dust of snow on the steps or rolling down her neck. She covered her face with her hands, biting her lip. You were right there. You were right there with your loving smile and your alluring warmth, but you weren’t hers. You weren’t the same. You could never be the same, nor could you ever truly be hers because there was no cheating death. You were gone and Natasha could not get you back. The closest she could get was the lovely woman she had just left sitting alone in the living room. There could be no future between you, not an honest one for that matter. Natasha let out a loaded sob into her hands, unable to keep it inside her for any longer. She missed you. She missed you so terribly that she was ready to do anything to get you back, she had already done everything to get you back. She only cried harder, her every cell aching and longing for you.

The door behind her clicked, prompting her to snuff out any noise she might have made. She didn’t move, the door sliding shut before a warm weight was draped over her shoulders. She welcomed the blanket gladly, but kept her gaze directed at the street where a pedestrian was walking on the other side of it. You sat down beside her tentatively, sitting in momentary silence to assess her state. When Natasha didn’t speak, you opened your mouth instead.

“What happened?” You turned to look at her blotchy face, wishing to touch her, but you were too afraid of crossing her boundaries. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Natasha wiped her tears off her cheeks, letting out a long breath as she looked away from you.

“I, uh, recently went through something…” She sniffled, turning to look at you, she tried to smile, but the tears pushed their way past her lashes and trickled down her reddened cheeks. She could see the way your brows furrowed in worry, your eyes widening slightly as you leaned closer, your hands coming up to wipe away her tears. She shook her head as if to say that it was ridiculous, or that she could barely bother to share with you, but after a moment longer of silence, she caved. “My wife… ex wife”, she added almost hastily after realizing how it would sound to you.

“Oh, my god. I should have realized. I’m so sorry”, you apologized immediately, feeling mortified for not having taken into consideration the fact that Natasha was carrying such a heavy load of pain on her shoulders despite the way she had already previously spoken about her past relationship. You could tell she had loved her wife deeply. It didn’t take much to figure that out when Natasha spoke about her so beautifully, so intimately. “I didn’t know you were married. What happened?” Natasha took another deep breath.

“She died.” She could barely get the words out, her throat closing, voice trembling, squeaking really. You felt your heart sink. A part of you felt disgusted by the fact that you realized that your chances with her had just decreased significantly, another part of you feeling an immense amount of sympathy for her.

“I am so incredibly sorry”, you whispered, daring to reach for her hand in an act of kindness. You sandwiched her left hand between your own, giving it a firm squeeze that made Natasha face you. She looked at you for a moment, unsure how to feel. “Can I ask what happened?” Natasha’s heart seemed to break just a little bit more once again, another chip of her battered heart falling somewhere into the endless pit inside her body. She looked at you in thought, slowly lifting the blanket up to invite you to sit beside her where it was warm. You squeezed yourself beneath the blanket, still holding her hand, bringing it to your lap.

“She got hit by a heavy-duty vehicle at a construction site.” Close enough, Natasha thought. It was surely an easier thing to explain than war against aliens. “By the time I got to her, there was nothing I could do.” She sniffled, using her right hand to wipe off her tears. “There was too much internal bleeding.” Natasha’s heartbroken eyes bored into your own, the agony behind that gaze laced with the look that had been haunting you for weeks. She looked at you with such utter pain and adoration that it felt jarring. It felt like there was something more to it, something more to you, yet it didn’t make sense. You barely knew each other.

“That is… just horrible. So horrible”, you whispered timidly, unsure of how to react to such news. There was nothing you could say to make it better. You turned your body more toward her, your hand brushing some of her hair back, tucking it behind her ear that was decorated by silver piercings, the few diamond studs glinting under the streetlamps. Natasha’s brows furrowed as if in desperation. That look would not leave her face, and you could tell it was directed at you. “Would it be okay to hug you?” Natasha could have started bawling her eyes out once more from how badly she needed you, any version of you, or matter of fact anyone. She felt so alone.

“Yeah.” The sound was meek and quiet, paired with a gentle nod of her head as you opened your arms for her, bringing her into your embrace. Natasha buried her face into your neck, taking a deep breath of home, her body sinking into your arms, longing for nothing more than to have you near. She was still shivering, but she didn’t have it in her to care if it meant that you would hold her. She took some time to just breathe as she remained in your embrace, savoring every touch of your hand against her back, every gentle brush of your breath in her hair, every inhale and exhale that she felt against her chest. But to her dismay, you pulled back sooner than she would have wanted you to.

“Come on, let’s go inside. You’re gonna freeze out here.” You got out from under the blanket, standing up and offering your hand to her. She took it, following you inside and back to the couch where the movie had been put on pause. “I’ll make you something warm to drink, okay?”

“No. No, thank you, darling, I’m good.” She looked shy. “Just… Can you stay with me?”

“Yes, of course.” You sat down beside her, bringing her into your arms again, the simple act reopening Natasha’s tear ducts, but she did her best to remain silent, relaxing her head against your chest like she had done so many times before she had lost you. It hurt. Recalling you made her want to scream in agony, but it also generated confusion because a fraction of you was right there holding her. “Can I ask you something?” She nodded her head, subtly burrowing closer to you.

“Was it okay that I kissed you?” Natasha stayed still for a moment, thinking about the kiss as you did the same. She pulled back to see your face, her features softening. It was so like you to be worried about such things.

“Yes.” You tried not to smile as widely as you did. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about for the past two weeks.” She shook her head. “The kiss was amazing. You did nothing wrong.” She took a small breath. “There’s just a lot of confusion, things that don’t make sense, things I don’t know how to explain.”

“Try me.” You gave her an encouraging smile that made Natasha’s heart falter from the wave of nostalgia that washed over her. You had always been open for anything, open for her baggage, her trauma and trouble, but despite your willingness to hear her out, she knew that the weight that she carried was not palatable in a reality where the Avengers belonged exclusively on the silver screen or the comic book of a little child who still had their imagination intact. Your imploring eyes did not leave her once, Natasha’s yearning heart refusing to deny you a single thing.

“I really like you”, she whispered. “I feel the way I used to with my wife.” You stared back at her with your heart hacking in your chest at double speed. You almost couldn’t believe that she truly liked you. “I know I’m allowed to move on. I know that I should, but something about that kiss just reminded me of a life I can’t get back.”

“I understand that”, you hummed quietly, grasping her hand to stroke it gently. “I hope I’m not pressuring you in any way. We don’t have to be anything right now. It doesn’t have to mean anything.” It was going to mean everything to you, but you were willing to push that aside to accommodate her. You wanted her to feel the most comfortable that she could.

“That’s just it”, she hummed quietly, looking at you a bit shyly, her cheeks still red, eyes bloodshot, lips swollen. “You already mean far too much to me in a way you’ll never understand.” You felt slightly taken aback. She was looking at you like that again, the shock you felt mixing with excitement at knowing that there was a possibility for more. “I can have it all again.” You didn’t quite want to think about what that entailed. Was she referring to love, to a life with somebody? You felt your body heat up from nerves, yet it also felt exciting. “I don’t mean to scare you. I’m very overwhelmed right now.” She let out a chuckle. “Just know that I enjoy your company. And think that you’re funny, smart, and incredibly beautiful.” Her compliments made you smile against your will.

“Thank you.” Your eyes flicked down to her plump and rosy lips despite how hard you tried not to look, and then she was already leaning closer, those warm lips finding your own in a sweet kiss that made your insides melt the slightest bit, one that remained stuck in your mind as you continued your movie night.

Chapter Text

Natasha held you in her embrace as you leaned into her side, her hand in your hair, playing with the messy locks that she herself had tousled up. It was silent around you, the TV volume at the lowest possible level so that it wouldn’t disturb your sleeping form that was curled up against her. Natasha looked around the decorated living room, the movie playing in front of her failing to maintain her interests. The Christmas lights created a dark golden glow into the house, the warmth of your body and the lingering smell of cookies providing Natasha with everything she might have needed to relax, but she couldn’t. Not when you were in her arms, her overheated mind whirring like the machinery of a busy factory. She didn’t know what she was doing. She was already in love with you. She had been in love with you from the moment she had seen you despite knowing that you weren’t the person she had once married. However, she couldn’t ignore the similarities either. You were still the same Y/N. You were still the person she was looking for regardless of any altered minor details. She wanted you desperately because without you she had nothing. She had no one else with her in her new life. She would have to begin from ground zero if she wanted her life to have any kind of meaning. The Avengers didn’t exist, her skill set wasn’t needed in this reality. She desperately wanted to have a purpose, and you just so happened to be it. You were the thing she was chasing, the very reason she now found herself in a strange reality, and as exciting as that was, it was scary. What if things didn’t work out? What if you weren’t meant to be in every reality?

You moved, adjusting yourself in your sleep to burrow closer to Natasha, your face nuzzling more into her breast than her shoulder where it had originally been. She felt a jolt of excitement go through her, her cheeks heating as she tightened her arm around you. It was like old times. It was like past Christmases when you fell asleep in her arms after eating too many snacks and losing to the battle of keeping your eyelids open. It was everything that Natasha had been looking for, everything that her soul had been craving for ever since your passing. She closed her eyes, dispelling every confusing, ethically concerned thought from her head to focus fully on your soft and warm body against hers, the smell of your perfume that sometimes reached her nose, and the quiet breathing that warmed up the fabric of her shirt with every puff.

Natasha didn’t sleep much, but she did manage to drift in and out of sleep during the early morning hours when her racing brain was finally worn down enough to stop functioning. She was nonetheless very thankful for the dreamless sleep that she had managed to get when she blinked open her eyes, immediately recognizing the weight that was pressed up against her body. She was horizontally on the couch, your legs tangled up with hers, your face pressed into her side, your hand on chest, right over the lower set of ribs. She couldn’t help but smile, her grin facing the ceiling as she stroked her hand over your head. The feeling of joy in her heart was so overwhelmingly wonderful that all she could do was close her eyes and enjoy the feel of your body touching her own, your head resting against her side. She didn’t know how you had ended up in such a position during the night, but she did not care in the slightest. She had not been as happy since all the trauma she had gone through.

You responded to her movement, starting to stir awake from your slumber, your face heating furiously as you slowly came to and realized that you were nuzzling your face into something other than a pillow. You were between her and the couch, your body on its side, leg draped over her thigh, your hand gripping her front like you were clutching a pillow —something you had always done as a habit ever since your toddler years. Only this time your pillow was something else, someone else.

“Oh, my god”, you whispered under your breath as you slowly pulled away, realizing that your fingertips had been way too close to groping her breast, a delicious warmth pooling in Natasha’s lower abdomen at the rasp in your voice. You caught her gaze by accident after intending to discreetly escape the situation. Instead of witnessing a look of disgust or disapproval, she simply smiled at you.

“Shh, malyshka (baby).” She kept you close to her by rubbing her hand over your arm, prompting you to still. She didn’t want you to waste a second on feeling embarrassed when your cuddles were all that she could ever need. “Did you sleep well?” She sank her hand into your hair, scratching your scalp gently, her heart bursting with happiness to see the way your eyes fluttered shut on their own. It was amusing that you couldn’t seem to escape your mannerisms even across realities. How could you not melt into her when she spoke to you so sweetly, and touched you so delicately, yet so firmly?

“Yes”, you sighed, allowing your head to droop down, resting your forehead against her abdomen. You were still all too groggy to really function, the thrill you got from Natasha’s attention only adding fuel to the fire. You felt like melting into her. “Did you?”

“I slept amazing.” It was true. She couldn’t have felt better even if she had tried to because you were quickly filling up the dark abyss, the black hole that her heart had become.

“I’m sorry if I was a little… handsy.” Your word choice made her laugh.

“More than alright, darling.” She stroked her hands over the back of your head. “I like a handsy woman.” Your cheeks felt warmer once again.

“Me too”, you whispered. You looked at each other, feeling a sense of shyness build up between you. It was so obvious that you liked each other, yet you were still nervous to make advances. It was exciting but slightly nerve-racking to be so close to her and breach the barriers of intimacy that normally existed between new acquaintances. There was so much you wanted from her, so much you wanted to do with her, but she made you feel a childish kind of thrill that knocked down your confidence. You wanted her to like you because you liked her, and that made you flustered. You gave her a small smile, one that came off coy before allowing yourself the pleasure to lower yourself back down onto the couch when she started rubbing your back with her hand, both of you able to enjoy the physical connection better knowing it was welcomed by both parties. You yawned heavily, hiding your face against her to cover up your rather obvious sign of exhaustion.

“Go back to sleep. You still have, what, half the day until you need to be on the stage again.” You mumbled something in response. Natasha smiled to herself. You had always been a sleepy one.

“I wanted to go to the Christmas market with you today.” Your breath warmed up Natasha’s side as you spoke.

“Christmas market?” She frowned in mild confusion, tilting her chin down to see you. “The Grinch going to the Christmas market. I better warn them ahead”, she mused playfully, earning a small slap from you.

“I’m not the Grinch.”

“Alright, Grinch. We’ll go to the Christmas market. I’ll wake you in thirty.” You nodded your head against her side, your body falling limp in a heartbeat. Natasha had always been rather jealous of your ability to sleep anywhere and everywhere. One place where you were almost impossible to keep awake at was her embrace. It made Natasha almost laugh out loud when she recalled a time you had both made an agreement not to cuddle during movies so that you would stay awake to see the end of it. The cuddling ban had never worked. It had only made you clingier, resulting in a tension that stole all your focus away from the movie. The weight of your body on hers felt right. It felt like it belonged there. It grounded Natasha in the new reality that she was to make her home. She brought her hand back into your hair, playing with the locks, twirling them between her fingers before moving on to drawing circles into your back as she thought about her predicament, her previous life, and all the little moments she had shared with you, feeling just a little better than she had at night.

Fifteen minutes into you catching up on sleep, the front door to the brownstone opened and closed, letting Wanda in from her night out in the city. The disheveled appearance of your roommate brought a small smirk to Natasha’s lips, but other than that she did not react, wishing to let Wanda choose whether to approach her or not. Wanda set her bag down and took off her scarf and coat to hang them up on the coat rack. It took her a second before she noticed you and Natasha on the couch, a small smile finding her face, but it was quickly wiped away when her gaze met Natasha’s. Wanda came slowly into the living room, as if hesitantly, making sure to walk quietly to avoid disturbing you. She and Natasha looked at each other, Wanda’s calculating eyes never easing up on Natasha.

“You’re not from here, are you?” It was rather straightforward, but Natasha had also expected it. She had recognized the look of suspicion and doubt on Wanda’s face upon first meeting her. You might not have actually believed Wanda to be a psychic, but Natasha had no doubt about the validity of that information, yet she wanted to keep her past concealed and try her best not to involve you or Wanda, or anyone for that matter, in any of it. “Don’t lie.” Natasha was taken aback by Wanda’s firm tone. It was as if she had been inside of Natasha’s head to see her construct a credible lie. Natasha gave up, knowing there was no way around Wanda.

“No, I’m not from here.” Natasha shook her head in emphasis. Somehow, they seemed to both know that here entailed that there was some other place, a place that the average person was incapable of reaching.

“I can tell you mean no harm”, Wanda continued, her eyes moving down to your sleeping figure. “But whatever baggage you come with, whatever brought you here, don’t involve her in it.” Natasha’s face was contorted into a sad frown as she looked down at your relaxed features.

“It’s too late.” Wanda looked away, pursing her lips as if in defeat, nodding in understanding, the gesture exuding disappointment. There was a brief silence that took over, both women contemplating what Natasha’s presence entailed. Wanda was just about to leave the living room when Natasha spoke.

“Do you know about it all?” Natasha couldn’t help but to ask since the topic had already been brought up for discussion. “About what happened?”

“No, but I know that this isn’t the only reality I exist in. And the same goes for you and her.” The look on Wanda’s face seemed to convey that the pieces weren’t hard for her to put together. “Keep her out of the multiverse. I mean it. Her life is good here.”

“I know it is. I don’t want to take her away from it. I want to be a part of it.” Natasha could see from Wanda’s face that she understood where Natasha was coming from. It was almost like she could feel just a fraction of her pain, but her attitude did not mirror it.

“You’re not from here.” The words seemed to speak for themselves. Natasha wasn’t welcome. “If you hurt her, I will make sure that whatever this is, ends.” She pointed at you and her, an earnest look on her face. “You do not get to pick and choose what you want from each reality. You should stick to what you got.”

“It was your idea”, Natasha shot back, displeased by Wanda’s stubbornness. “You brought me here. I cannot leave.”

“I’m…” Wanda sighed heavily as if frustrated with the misbehaving versions of herself from other realities. She remained quiet and in thought for a moment. “What I said still stands. I need some time to… think.” Wanda backed away from the living room, clearly still gathering herself from her night out. Hopefully Natasha was reading Wanda’s tone right and she had just amended at least a part of herself to Wanda.

“How was Monica?” Natasha asked in a slightly teasing tone before Wanda could leave.

“Shut up.” Wanda rolled her eyes, clearly trying to dislike Natasha to the best of her abilities, but Wanda walked up the stairs with a foolish grin on her face. Maybe there was still a chance of persuading Wanda. It couldn’t have been that hard. Especially since she seemed to have an understanding of the multiverse. Doing her best to keep the recent conversation with Wanda off her mind, she focused back on you, deciding to savor every last second she had with you before you would be up and about, out of her reach, at least cuddle-wise.

“Good morning, detka (baby). Time to wake up”, she hummed in her low voice, rubbing your arm and back a little more aggressively to wake you up. She had already taken an extra five minutes with you for herself. You blinked your eyes open, registering the even thud of her heart right beside your head. It was a low, rich sound that felt oddly comforting so close to your ear. You let out a long sigh, preparing yourself to get up and seize the day.

“Mmh, come on, darling.” The endearment brought a warmth to your chest, the jolt of excitement that went through you enough to make you want to get up. You had half a day to spend with her.

“I’m up”, you whined, dragging yourself upright to bring your groggy face and messy hair into her view. She smiled brighter than you had possibly ever seen her smile, her hand coming up to cup your cheek before attempting to tame some of your hair. You got up and headed straight for the bathroom to make sure you looked and smelled presentable, giving Natasha the opportunity to do the same. Not that she wasn’t already overly comfortable with you. She came into the kitchen five minutes after you to watch you make coffee as she sat at the dinner table with her chin in the palm of her hand, admiring you rather unabashedly. You glanced at her, feeling your cheeks warm up from the look on her face, immediately recalling the kisses, the cuddles, the words she had said the previous night.

“What do you wanna eat?” Natasha eyed you for a moment longer before responding.

“I’ll eat anything. Whatever you have.” You noticed the way her eyes lingered on your fluffy robe that you had changed into to get a little more comfortable for the morning. “Cute.” She didn’t elaborate, simply smiled again as she got up from the table to come help you with breakfast.

“We have all the basics.”

“I’m good with coffee and some bread”, Natasha hummed, spotting a loaf of bread that peeked from a bag Wanda had tossed onto the counter after work. Natasha moved behind you, her hand brushing over your shoulder as she kissed your hair, gently moving you out of the way to grab the bread. You could barely breathe after that, dumbly staring ahead at the pot of coffee that you were holding in your hand, ready to pour into a mug for her.

“W-Wanda’s bread is really good.” How dumb of you to try to stutter anything when you felt like you suddenly knew what the physical feeling of love felt like.

“I would love to visit her bakery someday.” She simply carried on with the conversation, her hand brushing down your back over the fluffy robe. “Thank you for the coffee, detka (baby).” Her voice was velvety smooth when she spoke so close to you, the tone low and intimate. You looked down at your hands to realize you had indeed poured her a cup before handing it to her.

You didn’t really think about what you did next, not that you could have made your brain function anyway, pressing your lips on hers in a hasty, sort of clumsy kiss that you definitely were embarrassed by, but Natasha welcomed it with open arms. You pulled away quickly after realizing how sudden and awkward the kiss had been, but Natasha simply let out a quiet chuckle as she opened her eyes to see you. She noted how flustered you looked, but she did not seem to feel the same way, her smile only widening as she set the cup of coffee back down on the counter and took a step closer to you to erase the gap between you. She brought her hand up to your cheek, leaning in for another kiss as if to properly give you what you had been looking for. Her lips connected with your own, gently at first, simply allowing you to feel their softness and warmth. You melted into her, your hands finding her waist, body leaning into her embrace as your cheeks heated up. That’s when she deepened the kiss, her tongue slipping past your lips to meet your own, turning your knees into jelly with that single action. Your heart began to flutter, your lips parting wider for more of the dizzying touch of her tongue, but she pulled away. She admired your flushed expression for a moment as you waited with bated breath for more, her thumb caressing your lower lip briefly before grabbing her mug of coffee.

“I won’t bite, baby.” She gave you a teasing smirk as if to tell you to keep up your brave advances before returning to the table with her coffee and bread to cut a few slices for you both. You grabbed the edge of the kitchen counter for support, putting conscious effort into not squeezing your thighs together. You let out a small, awkward chuckle hiding your face by going to the fridge to cool off and find toppings for the bread. You loaded the table with butter, jams, spreads, ham, cheese and anything else one might have wanted on top of bread before toasting a few of the slices of leftover sourdough she had cut for you. Finally, after finding plates and cutlery, you took a seat opposite of Natasha as she was smearing butter over a slice of crispy bread, watching the spread melt and seep into the bread. You grabbed a slice for yourself, selecting your favorite toppings to go with it.

“So, what’s at the Christmas market?” Natasha asked in curiosity, taking a bite of her butter and jam toast.

“Nothing. I’ve just never been.” You omitted the fact that you wanted to please her by choosing Christmas themed activities for you to do.

“Really? Did you have one in mind?” She took a sip of her steaming coffee, those emerald eyes observing you carefully. She looked beautiful in the golden, morning sunlight that made her pale skin glow and her auburn hair shine.

“The Bryant Park Christmas village. I saw something about it a while back.” You moved your leg as you got more comfortable on the dinner table chair, your fluffy-sock-covered foot touching hers beneath the table. Just that small bit of contact made your cheeks warm, the effect intensifying when her eyes met yours. She allowed her foot to stroke yours, a small smile finding her lips. She had a matching pair of socks that you had lended her after you had both frozen your toes off on the front steps the previous night.

“I haven’t been this year either.” Her touch was gentle, her fluffy sock softening the contact. You saw the slight blush on her cheeks, her smile deepening alongside the tension between you. You took a bite of your toast to distract yourself, but it did nothing to alleviate the butterflies in your abdomen. You moved your foot up her calf, hiding behind your mug of coffee. You continued your silent conversation beneath the table as you ate, sharing shy glances and smiles with each other as your fluffy-socked feet danced around each other.

•••

The decorations were gorgeous in the Bryant Park winter village, all the bright lights and baubles around you creating an overwhelmingly festive atmosphere around you. Natasha’s hand found your lower back to guide you in front of her to get through the concentration of people in front of you, her hand returning into your own after you had passed through the crowd. You looked around you, marveling at the lively energy of the people, Christmas music blasting everywhere. It was definitely something you had not quite expected from a marketplace. You had expected it to be rather mundane, but you had been oh-so wrong. There was so much to see that it was downright baffling. There was a carousel, booths upon booths of food, decorations, and other types of handcrafted goods that made your jaw drop from how beautiful they were. There were cookies, candy, drinks, donuts, cakes, chocolate, savory food options beyond measure, even performances. You had never realized how huge the winter village was. You had never known what you had been missing out on. Natasha gave you a knowing smirk as you walked through the narrow aisles, admiring all the decorations, smelling all the delicious scents around you, simply doing your best to take in as much as possible to savor the thrilling experience.

“I wonder where people got those hot chocolates from”, you hummed quietly, Natasha leaning a bit closer to you to hear you better.

“Does the Grinch want a Christmas treat?” She asked in a teasing retort that made you punch her in the arm. She laughed unabashedly.

“I’m not the Grinch. I just want hot chocolate. Did you see they put a toasted marshmallow on top?” You turned to look at her, your gleaming eyes laced with excitement.

“I did see.” She nodded her head, glancing around her, soon spotting the booth that had a small line to it, people who exited the stand leaving with mugs topped with marshmallow. “This way, darling”, she hummed, her hands guiding you into the right direction. Every time she found an excuse to touch you, you felt your heart jolt in your chest from excitement, purposefully lingering close to her just so you could be near her as much as possible. You found it incredibly endearing that she liked giving your lower back an unnecessary stroke when you took a turn or entered a shop. It felt oddly intimate and caring. You came to a stop in front of the booth, eyeing the options available.

“It’s so big. It’s probably gonna be too sweet”, you lamented, but before you even managed to quite finish your sentence, Natasha was on it.

“I’ll share it with you.” She turned to look at you, your smile only widening.

You continued to walk around the village, sharing the marshmallow-loaded hot chocolate between you as you went from booth to booth, admiring the Christmas ornaments on display before buying a few treats to take home for the evening. After the hot chocolate was gone Natasha managed to coax you to ride the carousel. You sat side by side on two separate horses that bounced up and down as the carousels spun around at a moderate pace. You looked at Natasha, unable to tear your eyes away from her as she went gently up and down in your vision, the carousel music filling up the silence as you just looked at Natasha’s gorgeous face, the lights and the spinning sights of the market flashing by behind her. You had no words for her beauty, no words for the feeling inside you. There was nothing you could say, nothing you could think because all your attention was consumed by Natasha’s ethereal being.

“What?” She asked quietly, just loudly enough for you to hear over the music.

“You look angelic.” It was the honest truth. There was no way around it. She smiled, her jade eyes escaping your reach as she looked away, her reddened cheeks seeming to get just a shade darker. She didn’t respond, but she didn’t have to. Her blush spoke for itself. By the end of your tour around the marketplace, you ended up at the root of a giant Christmas tree. You and Natasha stared up at it in awe, taking in the magnificent sight before you. It was almost too beautiful to be true. Your eyes went from one red bauble to another, the lights, the golden ornaments giving you enough to look to last the whole day. You backed away slightly to be able to see the large star at the very top of the tree, feeling so small beside the incredible sight before you.

“I love the golden bauble garland”, you commented softly, watching how said decorations wrapped around the entire tree.

“Me too. And the snowflakes”, she hummed, tearing her gaze away from the tree to look at you. Your eyes met, a small smile finding your lips as you turned to face her, recalling her comment from breakfast. Your kisses were welcome. She would not bite you. Her smile only widened when your eyes dipped down to her lips, a sudden excitement bubbling between you at the thought of kissing the other.

You let out a small chuckle as you leaned in, wishing to make the moment by the tree even more significant and more memorable. Your lips pressed together, her warm mouth welcoming you into a slow and sensual kiss that allowed you to feel every movement of her lips as she carefully sucked on your bottom lip. You kissed a few times, your lips parting just enough to only fit her lip between your own. The kiss stayed gentle, Natasha’s lips spreading into a wide grin that made it hard for her to kiss you back. She giggled quietly, a sound that tickled your ear in the most pleasant way possible. You pulled back to look at her, failing to contain your own grin as you just looked at each other, her hands reaching for your waist to bring you closer to her body. You glanced at the sublime tree beside you, Natasha’s eyes following your line of sight before you faced each other again, managing to wipe off your silly grins to be able to kiss each other again. She gripped your waist firmly enough for you to feel it through your coat, your mouths pressing together once more, her tongue pushing up against your lips in a dizzying caress that made your stomach lurch from arousal.

You had to pull away, the thoughts that flashed through your mind all too risky for the public, a sheepish smile lingering on your lips as you looked Natasha in the eye, your hips burning with such fervent need for more as they pressed gently up against hers. She had a smug, little smirk on her face as if she would have known exactly why you had pulled away, as if she had noticed something specific you did that gave your predicament away. You pursed your lips, trying to wipe off the smile from your face, but you didn’t quite manage as the heat inside you spread all over your body, Natasha pressing a final kiss to your forehead before pulling you away from the tree to go back to the final booths of decorations before you would inevitably have to leave so that you could head to work on time.

“Somehow we always end up doing Christmas related things”, Natasha commented casually as you once again strolled through the booths, this time toward the exit. “Does that bother the Grinch?” You rolled your eyes, nudging her a little.

“Actually no.” You chuckled when she nudged you back, nearly making you stumble over your feet. “Because I’m not the Grinch. It’s just Christmas. It’s nothing special.”

“You say that now…” Natasha hummed ominously, knowing full well that there was a little Christmas elf inside you that was just waiting to be let out of her cage.

“Why are you so adamant about me liking Christmas?”

“I’m not.” You gave her a look. “Seriously. You just seem the type to enjoy pointless traditions.” You couldn’t do anything but giggle, she was such a tease. You walked to the end of the aisle of booths, one of the stands catching your eye right before you were to exit the village. Your eyes remained glued on the beautiful ornament that hung from the ceiling of the booth among a wide variety of unique baubles. Your attention was stuck on a bright red glass ball that had golden carvings all around it. The thin gold lines were detailed and curved beautifully around the ornament, but they also left a good amount of the glass bare which allowed you to see through the ball when the booth’s lights hit it just right. It made the glass glow blood red, the effect reminding you vaguely of the way sunlight reflected from Natasha’s hair.

“What is it?” You had gone quiet, prompting Natasha’s to figure out what had derailed your conversation.

“N… nothing”, you mumbled as you took slow steps forward, intending to leave the beautiful decoration behind because you really did not need it, but Natasha knew that look in your eyes. She steered you right to the vendor as if by accident, focusing on all the other decorations while you stared up at your red glass ball. After a while of you admiring the ornament, Natasha came to your side.

“You should buy it.” You glanced at her as if to check if she was seeing what you were seeing.

“Maybe for Wanda. She would love it.” You could buy it for Wanda so that you could take it home and look at it all you wanted. It made more sense than buying it for yourself since you didn’t celebrate Christmas.

“Yeah, for Wanda”, Natasha said in a slightly mockery tone that slipped by you. It was so obvious that if you were going to buy it, you would never end up giving it to Wanda. Your eyes were practically gleaming with desire.

“You wanna take it down?” The vendor-man asked you after deciding to seize the opportunity to make another sale for the day. Natasha nodded her head before you could even answer. You felt a bit dumbfounded, like you were wasting everyone’s time, but when the vendor placed the stark red ball into your hands you felt yourself relent.

“I’ll get it for Wanda.”

“For Wanda.” Natasha nodded solemnly, biting back her smile as you bought the ornament, paying for it as the vendor wrapped it up and placed it into a paper bag. You said your goodbyes and exited the winter village right after. You were planning on taking a thirty-minute walk to the Metropolitan Opera House where you would part ways.

You walked through the city hand in hand, chatting casually about your impressions of the marketplace as you made your way north, navigating your way toward Lincoln Square by memory, all too familiar with Manhattan to need any kind of directions. Natasha’s heart felt light as she watched your hands swing back and forth between you. She was beyond pleased to be holding your hand, her smile seeming to linger on her lips no matter how much she tried to keep her features neutral to appear at least somewhat normal, but she couldn’t deny the excitement, the joy and the thrill she felt. She was falling in love with you all over again. She was relearning what –or rather whom– she had once known by heart, and it was better than she had anticipated. It felt more right than she had imagined. You felt like you, and she felt like herself. All seemed to be right in the world, or at least whenever you two were in your own little bubble of Christmas nonsense. She thought about your kiss by the Christmas tree, her mind wandering as you talked about the variety of cuisine available at the market, planning on having lunch there someday. Natasha felt her knees give in at the mere thought of the kiss. Your lips were so delicious, so irresistible that it took everything in her not to kiss you harder, deeper, and for longer. She glanced at your face, a slight, adoring frown appearing on her own at the look on your face as you brought up a few booths you would want to give a try. Her gaze moved down to your lips and then it moved away from them when she felt a visceral reaction somewhere south of her abdomen.

Over half an hour later, to your utter dismay, you reached the Metropolitan Opera House, despite your efforts at slowing down your walking pace. You didn’t want to part from Natasha. You really did not. The last thing you wanted to do was to get on stage and sing when you had something much more prevalent on your mind, or rather someone. But alas, you had no choice. You needed to show up at work because the entire production was counting on your appearance. You both paused by the front doors where you had seen her exit what felt like an eternity ago.

“I kind of don’t want to go in”, you admitted, looking down at your joint hands, reluctant to let go.

“Yeah”, Natasha echoed quietly, meeting your gaze, offering you an assuring smile. You were clearly on the same page, your bashful smiles mirroring each other. Maybe you could prolong your little date for just a tiny bit longer.

“Would you wanna come in for some vocal warmups?” Your tone was hopeful, her brow arching up almost playfully.

“Vocal warmups, you say?” There was a hint of suggestiveness there, the ridiculous innuendo failing to slip by you as you shoved her gently toward the entrance door, ignoring the ripples of electricity that the thought of all the sounds she could elicit from you crossed your mind.

“Shut up.” You let out a long laugh, following her inside the building.

Chapter Text

Natasha followed you like a puppy in tow as you made your way inside and dropped off your bags in your dressing room. She was beyond thrilled to learn more about you and all the things she had previously not had access to. The person she had once known had only sung in the shower and gotten incredibly flustered if Natasha ever caught her. You had always had a beautiful voice, and in this reality, you thankfully knew it yourself as well.

“This is where I like to practice”, you said as you stopped your walk down a long corridor of rooms, opening a door to an empty room with a grand piano on the left side of it. “I get to be alone and focus.” You led her inside, Natasha shutting the door behind her as you headed straight to the grand piano with your stack of sheet music you had pulled out of your purse.

“I like it”, she hummed as she stared at the lone, lit-up star that hung before the window, illuminating the room with its gentle beam until you turned on the lights, drowning its shine.

“You can grab a chair from over there if you want a seat.” You pointed toward the right-side wall where a few chairs were stacked and lined neatly, but Natasha didn’t seem to mind, following you to the grand piano to admire its shiny, black exterior. You gave her a small look as you lifted the top up to open the instrument, giving Natasha a look at the insides where the strings and pins formed a complex structure that would eventually make a heavenly sound. You moved to the chair and took a seat, your gaze moving to Natasha. “This is gonna get loud and silly, so buckle up.” You let out a soft chuckle.

“I can do loud and silly”, she mused, waiting for you to begin. “Bring it on, baby.” Your cheeks felt warm again, and your heart was beating faster again. You suddenly felt nervous to sing in front of her despite the fact that you sang daily in front of hundreds of people. Although it was worth mentioning that they heard you actually sing, Natasha would be witnessing the ridiculous little noises you had to make to open up your voice and prepare it for the stage. You weren’t used to showing that side to the people outside of your opera circles, let alone someone you wanted to like you. With a final glance at Natasha, you focused your attention on the keys of the grand piano, warming up your fingers a bit by playing some drills to get your fingers going, providing Natasha with a chance to admire the inside of the instrument as the pins hit the strings creating the most crisp and smooth sound she had ever witnessed so up close. She remained quiet, allowing you to do your thing, her gaze eventually moving from the inside structure to admire you instead. You could feel her eyes on you, but it felt rather comforting, yet also incredibly thrilling.

“Okay, here we go”, you chuckled as a small warning before starting to make noises on top of your playing. You started off with lip trills, going gradually up and down an octave to hit both low and high notes as you pushed out air from between your lips to make them vibrate in a similar manner to a noise that horses often made. You gave Natasha a look, biting your lip in between the octaves as you played the notes from the piano and then matched them with your voice. She seemed amused, but it didn’t feel judgmental. You repeated the lip trills until you felt ready enough to move on to humming. You repeated the same principle of going up and down the octaves to really open up the range of your voice through various methods. You played around with the positioning of your tongue and mouth in general, using a pufferfish technique to create some backpressure before doing another exercise with your tongue between your lips to release tension. You made sure to wake up every part of your mouth, throat, lungs, and core to ensure that your voice flowed beautifully and just like you intended it to.

Finally, you were able to move on to practicing your numbers, which seemed to make Natasha perk up slightly. You couldn’t even blame her, proper songs were always much more interesting to listen to than vocal warmups that sometimes sounded a bit ridiculous even to you despite how used to them you were. By the time your voice was oiled up like a machine and your responsibilities were out of the way, you were struck by an idea.

“You wanna try?” Natasha turned to look at you with her eyes wide, shaking her head.

“Oh, no. I’m not the singing type”, she chuckled, declining your offer politely, but you were used to people having to be persuaded when it came to singing. You stood up, a certain kind of look in your eyes as you walked over to her where she stood at the end of the grand piano. You looked up at her through your lashes, knowing full well how that came across, Natasha’s lower lip clamped between her teeth.

“I know you can sing.” You had heard her sing just the night before. You knew she could hold a note. “It’ll be fun”, you assured her, stepping close enough to her to invade her personal space. She looked down at you, at your eyes, the tension between you restoring with a single batting of your eyelashes. “I’ll show you how.” You gave her a small smile, bringing your dominant hand flat against her abdomen. Natasha could feel her blood start pumping from the innocent contact you made with her, her heart beating all too fast for her comfort. “Hum for me”, you said in a low tone, providing her with an easy three note melody that anyone could follow along with. She looked at you, unable to tear her eyes away from you as you waited for her to repeat the melody. Your eyes were so intense, so beautiful that Natasha felt like she could drown in them, their unyielding gaze persuading her to give it a try. She cleared her throat before copying the three-note melody, humming it from her throat. She felt oddly vulnerable.

“Now brace your core”, you instructed, thoroughly unprepared to feel the way her abdominal muscles flexed beneath the palm of your hand, giving you a wonderful opportunity to gather material for your daydreams. “And push out the sound from your whole body. Not just your throat.” You repeated the melody to her again, holding your hand in place to feel her core engagement as she hummed the notes.

“Here, let me show you.” Your cheeks were blazing hot as you grasped her bare hand with your own and brought it to your own abdomen, right below the ribs. You held your hand over hers as you let out short, little hums to really show that your core tightened every time you let out a sound. You gave her a small, encouraging smile, before moving her warm touch off you and bringing it to her own stomach. “Try now.” Natasha did as told, doing her best to contain herself after the burn that your touch had caused.

“Perfect. That’s exactly what we’re looking for.” The excitement was evident in your tone. “Singing is very physical and at first it can feel straining to always tense all your muscles, but it really does help with the quality of your voice”, you explained. You hummed another melody yourself, prompting her to follow your lead. She managed to get the hang of it rather quickly. “Choose a song.” You gave her a small smirk as her eyes widened. She could not think of a song in her messy brain that was screaming for her to kiss you instead of focusing on anything else. She felt almost dizzy. You were so close, and your touch had been so gentle and warm.

“Uh… um, Have yourself a merry little Christmas.” It was the best she could come up with. She had heard it at the winter village, and it had gotten stuck in her head.

“Perfect. Keep your attention on your core, but don’t strain it.” You hummed the melody quickly to yourself to recall how the song went before singing the first line. “Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Let your heart be light.” You nodded your head as a way to signal her to repeat the line. She did as told, feeling like she was completely under your spell. She couldn’t have resisted you and your beautiful voice. It would have felt downright disrespectful. Her voice wasn’t far off from her talking voice, simply lighter and airier. It was raw and delicate, but it wasn’t unpleasant by any means. You could have listened to it for the rest of your life. “Next year all our troubles will be out of sight.” You moved your hand off her own to feel her stomach as she sang, your gazes meeting again, the tension consuming her whole. “Have yourself a merry little Christmas…” You both sang the next line, the lyrics dying in Natasha’s throat. She couldn’t sing, not when you looked at her like that, not when you made her heart gallop like a wild horse fleeing captivity. You simply looked at each other in the silence that had found you, your lips curving up in a slight smile.

“Congratulations. You can now sing with correct technique”, you whispered, your faces mere inches apart, your hand still touching her abdomen through the thin fabric of her shirt. You allowed your thumb to caress the even surface of her upper abdominal muscles before letting go. Natasha couldn’t breathe. “You can stay for the show. Maybe after we can check out that apartment of yours.” You had talked about visiting Natasha’s place during your day at the marketplace. You were curious to see her living space and witness the kind of life she lived. She didn’t seem opposed.

“I’ll stay.” The longing was palpable. You yearned to kiss her and you could tell she felt the same because you had never quite rendered her so speechless, her eyes lingering on your lips, on your eyes, dipping lower to your cleavage in an attempt to escape the intensity of your gaze but when she caught a glimpse of the soft skin that peeked from behind your low neckline she realized to back away completely if she wanted you on the stage that night. You didn’t have time to fool around in a classroom. You had a show to perform. “I’ll wait for you.” She smiled at you, receiving the same gesture in return.

The tension was dispelled when you went to gather up your notes from the grand piano, heading for the dressing rooms again to get into costume. Natasha came with you just to spend that little bit of more time with you. You found it incredibly sweet, pleased that she wished to be so involved with you and your work. She lingered around while you got your hair and makeup done, chatting with you whenever she had the opportunity, but she was mindful to stay out of the way. She looked on quietly from the side with a tiny smile on her lips as you talked with Beatrice about the show, going over some technical aspects about the use of vibrato. She wanted your opinion on one of her solo moments on stage, the young singer wishing to improve herself. Natasha found it endearing. You were so kind and willing to teach Beatrice, offering constructive feedback and helpful tips. Natasha had always loved that about you. She had always loved how willing you were to give people your time and your knowledge. It was something that she would never take for granted. After a good while of Natasha simply observing the dynamics in the dressing room while constantly keeping an eye on you because you truly did look so gorgeous in your character’s get up, it eventually came a time for you and Natasha to part ways. She watched you saunter her way in your heels and extravagant dress, hair, and makeup, an apologetic smile on your face as you reached your hands for hers.

“I have to go now”, you hummed quietly, grasping Natasha’s hands to bring you closer to each other. She nodded her head, unprepared to say goodbye to you when a part of her acknowledged a parallel she wished to forget. You smiled that gorgeous smile of yours at her, bringing an involuntary smirk to her lips.

“I know, darling. It’s your time to shine.” You pursed your lips, looking away, wishing to kiss her. “Go be a star.” She gave your hands a squeeze, gaining your attention back, your eyes meeting. She glanced at your mouth, leaning closer, pleased to see you reciprocate. Her plump lips pressed down on your heavily glossed ones, leaving a layer of soft pink product behind on Natasha’s lips. The kiss was firm and chaste, but it made Natasha’s body throb, nonetheless. “Good luck, detka (baby).” You let out a little giggle, one that was very typical of you when you were undeniably affected by her. It made Natasha grin.

“Thank you.” You barely had the will to let go of her hands, but you managed eventually, backing away from her before turning around and heading for the stage, peeking over your shoulder a few times just to get another look at her, your smile lingering on your lips rather persistently, Natasha’s heart beating outside of her chest from pure joy.

Natasha stayed for a show or two before leaving the opera house to focus on her life outside of your presence. If you were going to come over to her place, she would have to ensure that her cover was watertight. She could not afford to risk the connection that was building between you. There could be not a single clue on display that could give out her white lies. She headed toward the Stark tower that had remained under the name of Stark Industries. Tony still developed war weapons and had never advanced any further than that. Natasha had been brought overseas to help with insider knowledge on weapon use. She didn’t live in the Stark tower like she had in her previous life, but she had an apartment nearby that was leased through the company. She was currently on a leave for Christmas, which she had thankfully been able to arrange for her alternate self, who, true to Natasha’s nature, had not taken a day off all year. Natasha found it rather ironic that none of the Avengers existed in her current reality, yet her miserable self was still in the weapon fare industry trying to fight a battle nobody else was interested in fighting.

Natasha scoffed at herself as she tossed aside a stack of work-related documents to the side to clear a desk in her bedroom, a small frustrated huff leaving her parted lips. Oh, what a mess she had created herself. She had set the trap up all by herself. You would most likely not care what she did for work or how accurate she had been about her job description, but finding out about any lies that she had told would automatically weaken her credibility and the positive impression she wanted you to have of her. Natasha cleaned up any of the mess that lingered around her variant’s apartment, making sure the space looked tidy and clean. She wasn’t all that familiar with her variant or her life, prompting her to do a little more research on herself, just in case. She had been spending most of her free time away from you on relearning the world around her. She had researched movies and pop culture, diseases, world events, politics, and social phenomena to get a better understanding of the reality you lived in. She hadn’t had time to get into her variant’s life because she didn’t intend to live that life. She was aiming to change it to make it more suitable for herself. She discovered an image of her variant and a man who was holding her so close that it made Natasha gag. She had hidden the frame inside a drawer the moment she had initially lain her eyes upon it. She took the frame and slid the picture out of it, tearing it up to get rid of any evidence about the tomfoolery her variant had been up to with a man in her life. She shook her head in disbelief. Here she had been thinking that she was gay enough to be a lesbian in every universe.

She discarded any other inappropriate pictures that she could find from the apartment, going over legal documents, and other official papers she had yet to sort through to do more research on herself. She looked through her variant’s closet, taking out pieces that she herself wouldn’t wear, ensuring that her closet reflected her own style. She cleaned away the cat equipment that lingered around in her closet from Liho who Natasha had not even gotten to meet. Her best guess was that the cat had actually passed, but she had no confirmation. She checked her bank credentials and balance, making sure she was aware of how much she could spend. She would still get a regular salary as long as she went back to work and learned to do her variant’s job. She would also have to eventually explain to you why she worked a different position that she had initially told you. Maybe she had gotten a raise, or alternatively she would simply apply for a transfer to her desired position. Or maybe she had two kinds of jobs she was in charge of. Natasha sighed, she should have been more careful in the beginning, but she had let her emotions get in her way. She had been all too affected by the jumble of pain and excitement to think rationally.

Finally, after having enough of berating herself, she made sure the apartment was tidy and clean before restocking her fridge by running to the closest bodega to grab any snacks she knew you’d like and a bottle of your favorite wine just in case it would get romantic again that night. Once she had finished her tasks and ensured that her cover, or what was now her life, was foolproof, she headed back to the opera house in the evening, leaving her apartment around the time you were on intermission, so she could catch your final number that was steadily becoming her favorite in the entire opera, maybe even all the operas. She stood quietly at the back, watching you saunter onto the stage. She would have closed her eyes to truly and properly listen to your voice, but she could not tear her eyes off you and your gorgeous gown. She felt her skin prickle with goosebumps every time you hit a higher note, your angelic voice somehow managing to fill up the entire theater. It was just as phenomenal every single time.

Natasha snuck backstage before the audience had the chance to get up from their seats and crowd all the aisles and hallways, patiently waiting for you near the dressing rooms, unwilling to invade the spaces that were meant for performers only. She soon heard some laughter echo down the hallway leading to the dressing rooms, her lips immediately stretching into a small smile despite the laugh not belonging to you, but it was nonetheless a sign of your arrival. She watched half of the performers enter the dressing rooms, the group of people chatting enthusiastically, sharing how their performances had gone on stage, expending any remaining nerves and energy since they were finally able to relax for the night. You arrived in tow with Beatrice, both of you rather quiet in comparison to the others. You managed a small smile when you saw Natasha, but in all honesty, you were completely wiped.

“Hi, malyshka (baby)”, Natasha hummed quietly, low enough for others to not hear. You gave her a tired look.

“Hi.” Beatrice walked by you, smirking at you briefly which told Natasha that she was aware of your situation and relations. You waited for the rest of the cast to head inside the dressing rooms, you and Natasha lingering behind by the door.

“Tired?” Natasha recognized the look on your face, she could so easily spot the weary look in your eyes, the slouch in your shoulders and the lax smile on your lips.

“You wouldn’t believe it. I thought I couldn’t do the final number”, you mumbled, leaning against the wall for support because leaning into Natasha’s arms was slightly too forward of you. She chuckled in sympathy, watching you rest the side of your head against the cool wall, bringing her hand up to the side of your face to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. You closed your eyes at the touch of her hand, letting out a small sigh. Oh, how you wanted to sink into her embrace and just bury your face into her neck. All the excitement from the precious day and the morning had completely drained you.

“We’ll do my place another time. I’ll get you a cab and get you straight home.” She felt a twinge of disappointment in her chest for having to part from you, but she would do what was best for you without a question.

“No”, you whined quietly. “I wanna see your place.” A part of you did want to go home and just sleep, but a bigger part of you wanted to actually see where she lived and spend time with her.

“You sure?” She cupped your cheek, your eyes fluttering open to see her face.

“Yeah.”

“It’s okay if you want to go home and rest. you should do exactly that”, Natasha tried again, knowing you were not always exactly keen on doing what was best for you when it came to resting.

“I don’t want to.” Your tone made her chuckle.

“Alright, darling. Grab your stuff and we’ll get going.” You nodded your head, pushing yourself off the wall to go get out of costume.

When you finally stepped into the crisp night air, you felt yourself fully relax, soothed by the gentle rush of air that caressed your skin. You didn’t talk much as you started blindly following Natasha to her home, grabbing her hand to hold, so you could keep up with her. Natasha, as chivalrous as ever, was carrying your purse and paper bag that contained your loot from the village after insisting to help you with the load. You appreciated it greatly despite feeling slightly bad for it.

“You up for some dinner?” Natasha asked you as you passed a restaurant that wafted a delicious scent of spices your way. “We could grab some takeaway.”

“Oh, I’d love it”, you sighed in relief, suddenly recalling your hunger that you had had to push aside during the show.

“What would you like?”

“Anything. I’ll eat anything at all. I’m ravenous.” She gave your hand a squeeze as you stopped at a road cross, waiting for the lights to turn green.

“There’s an Italian place down the block from my apartment. They do pizza and pasta, you know, the works.”

“That’s perfect.”

By the time you entered Natasha’s apartment with your food in hand, you were ready to sink into the floor just to find a horizontal position. You toed off your shoes after Natasha did the same, taking off your outerwear in a clumsy fashion with the food in your arms to hang your coat up in her closet. You looked around the apartment. It was on the seventh floor of a regular building complex, the interior simple but classy. She had two bedrooms, a living room and a kitchen, the entrance of the apartment expanding into the conjoined kitchen and living rooms. The interior design was rather plain and consisted of shades of white, beige, and grey. It wasn’t bland but it was lacking slightly in personality. Natasha wouldn’t have chosen such light colors herself for an apartment, but it wasn’t too far off her style.

“Oh, this looks like a nice place you got”, you commented as you stepped further inside, eyeing the interior.

“I haven’t put much effort into decorating it, but maybe someday I’ll get to it”, she chuckled, setting down your bags to take the food from your arms. She placed the white plastic bag onto the dining table, switching on the kitchen lights so you could see better.

“I like it. It’s calming.” You noted some details from the interior, your eyes spotting the lush couch in the living room that was facing a TV stand and a flatscreen. The cushions looked rather inviting to you, but you resisted their siren-like call because you didn’t want to fall asleep on her so soon, although you were most definitely planning to stay the night because nothing in the world could have made you find the energy to go home or anywhere anymore for that matter. Natasha was stuck with you whether she liked it or not because it was nearing midnight, and you had no intention to step outside again.

“I’m glad you think so, she hummed as she started unpacking the food, pulling out two containers of pasta and some breadsticks with butter.

“Can I take a look around?” You were already heading further into the apartment albeit slowing down slightly before receiving her answer just to make sure you weren’t crossing any boundaries.

“Yes, of course.” Natasha smiled to herself as she pulled out porcelain dishes from the cupboards so you could eat with proper utensils instead of the wooden ones the restaurant had provided you with. She lit up a few candles to create a warmer atmosphere at the dinner table. “Do you want wine?”

“Yes!” Your voice echoed from somewhere around her bedroom, but you appeared back in the kitchen soon after, lured in by the food and drink that your body was begging for.

“I got that cherry wine that you- it’s this wine I thought you might like.” Natasha corrected herself immediately, handing the bottle to you so you could take a look at it before she opened it. You didn’t seem bothered by her slight verbal stumbling, her shoulders relaxing a little. She was getting too comfortable with you. She was mixing you up with the old you and getting herself confused with what she knew about you and what she didn’t. It was a dangerous game.

“Ah, I love cherry!” You eyed the bottle for a moment, pretending to look at it like you cared what kind of wine it was. You were sold after hearing the word cherry. “How did you know that?” Natasha chuckled at your enthusiasm.

“You just seem the type and you had that cherry danish when we first met for coffee.” She placed two wine glasses onto the table, receiving the bottle from you.

“Oh, yeah. Look at you, all observant”, you hummed, smiling like a fool because she remembered something so insignificant.

“What can I say? You’re someone very memorable.” She smiled softly to herself as she unscrewed the cap and poured you a sip to taste. “There you go.” She handed you the glass, pouring herself a serving. You tried not to blush at her comment, but you couldn’t even look at her as you smiled against the rim of the glass, taking a sip of the sweet, fruity wine.

“I love it”, you whispered, placing the glass back down onto the table so she could give you a proper amount of it to go with your dinner. You returned the smile she gave you, taking a seat at the table, ready to dig into your pasta.

“I can heat it up in the microwave if it cooled down too much outside”, Natasha offered kindly, taking her own box of garlic and mushroom pasta to put on her plate.

“Thank you, I might just need that to melt the cheese properly”, you said a bit sheepishly as you scooped a good-sized portion onto your plate before handing it to Natasha. You heated up your food and got settled at the table with your small-scale dinner that was rather modest but neither of you had any complaints because the company was what made it feel undeniably special. You sipped on your wine as you ate together, the exhaustion from the day mixing incredibly well with the wine and soon enough you were in a rather jolly mood.

“And then- then- This is so stupid. Then-” You fell into yet another giggling fit, hiding your face in your hands to try to control the reaction to your tipsiness but it was impossible with how tired you were. “This isn’t- isn’t even a good story.” Natasha chuckled at the look on your face. You were not far from having tears streaming down your cheeks from how hard you were laughing. It made her laugh in turn. She couldn’t resist your intoxicating giggles. She had always loved it when you got all giggly and ridiculously silly whenever you got tipsy. She had yet to meet anyone else who compared to the amount of giggles you were able to let out. “I can’t breathe”, you whined in between snickers, gasping for air, your laughter turning silent. “I don’t even remember…” Natasha had no clue why you were laughing. You had never gotten far enough in your story to truly let her in on the humor that had caused such a reaction, but she didn’t even mind it because nothing could be as funny as watching you squirm in laughter for no particular reason at all.

“Breathe, baby, breathe”, she chuckled a bit teasingly, but all you managed was a small wheeze.

“It’s not funny”, you moaned, but the harder you fought against your giggles the more hilarious Natasha found it, and suddenly you were both laughing hard enough that your cheeks and abdominal muscles ached despite there being no reason for your uncontrollable laughing fit. You looked at Natasha through your teary eyes, noting her wine-tinted cheeks and the mirth in her eyes, your heart beating erratically in your chest from the onslaught of emotions you felt. She looked so beautiful and so joyous and carefree. You loved her laugh. It was rich and low; smooth. It was a comforting kind of laugh. The kind that made you feel welcome and warm inside. It made you want to get closer to her, your foot already halfway to her chair to make some kind of contact with her. Your cheeks were blazing hot, the heat descending down into the rest of your body from how good she made you feel, a familiar kind of longing stirring up within you, one that was undeniably situated between your thighs.

“I wouldn’t know, darling, you never finished the story”, she reminded you in a small, amused huff as you let out a long sigh as if to shake off the giggles.

“He fell off the stage.” You burst into laughter. “It’s not funny!” But unfortunately, you recalled the comical sight of Daniel stumbling off stage all over again, unable to hold in your laughter as Natasha joined you.

“Your giggles beg to differ”, she reminded you in a playful manner, nudging your foot a little after feeling it touch her ankle.

“I know!” You whined. “I’m a horrible person, but you should have seen it.” You covered your face with your hands, hiding away again. “I’ve never seen anyone fall like a cartoon character.” The touch of her foot made your stomach lurch, effectively calming you down because suddenly you had a whole new agenda that was claiming top-priority in your brain. “Thankfully, it was during practice”, you added as you were calming down, your hand going for the wine glass again, Natasha’s small chuckles stretching your lips into a smile. You scooted your chair a bit closer to her, not even bothering to hide the fact that you wanted to get closer to her, but the table and the finished dinner were in the way. Natasha glanced at the couch that was behind you in the living room, clearly thinking along the same lines as you.

“Yeah, that sure would’ve been something in front of an audience”, Natasha agreed in a small, amused huff, standing up to gather the plates and cutlery off the table, taking them into the sink before discarding the food packaging. She returned to your side, her hand brushing over your hair as she looked down at you. “More wine?” She offered the bottle, but you shook your head, you were all too giggly to begin with.

You ended up on the couch with your wine glasses, sharing your treats from the winter village as dessert, sitting on the pillowy cushions facing each other as you shared your assorted chocolates, chewy cookies, candied popcorn and almonds, tasting whatever your hearts might have desired. You were no longer as giggly as at the dinner table, but you were another level of tipsy that Natasha knew all too well, your fingers drawing languid circles over the top of her knee. Your eyes met hers, the jovial smile on your lips lingering there, a certain kind of mirth twinkling in your eyes. Natasha could feel her heart beat in her chest as prominently as ever, an air of anticipation surrounding you as you both waited for the situation to develop further. You gave her a small look, your stomach filled with butterflies as you allowed your hand to slide just a little higher on her thigh.

“I had a lot of fun today”, you hummed, reaching for your wine glass on the coffee table to take a sip, returning to the couch in a way that left you just a little closer to Natasha. It seemed to be one of your favorite moves. Your eyes met, her features softening. You had that alluringly warm look in your eyes, that look that had made Natasha fall in love with you years ago.

“Me too”, she whispered. She wanted to kiss you. She wanted to kiss you so long and so hard that she stopped breathing, but instead she just smiled.

“These past few weeks have been…” You couldn’t seem to find the words, Natasha huffing out a small chuckle as she nodded in understanding. “It’s crazy how people can just… click.” Your fingers stroked over the material of her suit pants, glancing down at the way the fabric stretched over her thighs in her sitting position. You looked up at her, giving her a soft smile, your other hand moving casually to her auburn curls to play with a lock of her hair. You had always been a touchy drinker, that acknowledgement bringing a slight grin to Natasha’s lips. She couldn’t help but to close her eyes at the proximity of your hand, savoring every bit of intimacy you were willing to offer.

“Yeah.” A weak exhale was all that she could manage. The charge between you was overwhelmingly present, Natasha’s body reacting to the smallest of your touches, every hair in her body standing on end. When your hand sank even further into her curls, she felt certain enough about your advances to reciprocate. She wanted the initiative to come from you because her feelings had never been a question to anybody. She wouldn’t admit it to herself, but she was afraid that maybe she wasn’t worthy of your time and interest in this reality. Maybe she was simply persuading you, or even worse, what if she was forcing you because of her own obsession and interests? “Never a dull moment with you”, she hummed, bringing her hand up to stroke the wrist of the hand that was in her hair. She allowed her fingertips to skate over your forearm, feeling goosebumps erupt across the soft skin, a smile finding her lips.

“You’re someone special, I can tell.” You both spoke so incredibly softly, just between the two of you, in your little bubble of infatuation. Your words made her smile even wider.

“So are you. You have no idea.” She gave your arm a squeeze, watching the way you gnawed gently on your lower lip, something that always tended to draw her attention to your alluring lips.

There was nothing left to do but kiss her. You had no reason to prolong the moment any further because you truly could not think of anything else than connecting your lips with hers. You glanced down at her pink mouth before your gaze returned to meet her own. You leaned in, the hand in her hair guiding her closer to you, the warmth of her body feeling dizzying against your cool hand. Natasha’s free hand found your leg, tugging on it gently to signal you to come closer as your lips pressed together. There was no one around you, no distractions, no interruptions, your lips parting automatically to deepen the kiss. Your stomach lurched, a quiet moan slipping from Natasha at the contact, the sound muffled by your lips. You crawled closer to her, her hands pulling you into her embrace to feel your body properly against her own. You were lit on fire. You burned from her touch, your core throbbing unabashedly for more of her in any shape or form. Natasha dipped her tongue into your mouth, feeling you reciprocate the act by stroking it with your own. It made you dizzy, the quiet noises elicited by your kiss making your heart race at double speed.

Natasha could barely control the firmness of her hands, the greediness and desperation she experienced from having you right there in her arms, your thighs straddling her lap, back arched to push your abdomen and breasts against hers, your hands getting tangled in her hair. She moaned at how good it felt to have your nails scratch over her scalp, the heat of your body pressing over her hips in a way that made her want to lose all control. You both parted from the fervent kiss to catch your breaths, the gentle sweep of your breath tickling her face and wet lips. You let out a little chuckle at how rapidly you had found yourself in her embrace, Natasha responding to it with one of her own. You looked down at her, biting your lip to hide your smile as you blindly reached for her left hand, slowly bringing up to your chest. Your eyes were playful as you placed her hand over your heart, your eyes meeting when Natasha registered the heavy, rapid thudding of the organ beneath her hand. You felt butterflies flutter in your abdomen and between your legs, prompting you to press yourself closer down to her lap, her body shifting the slightest bit at the sensation, lips pressing shut to hold back her moan. It made you feel giddy. It made you want to play with her, see how much you could get away with before she would take control. You could tell she was the type. You could sense it in her demeanor; she liked a bit of tease.

Your hands caressed her jaw and neck as you admired the dusting of blush on her cheeks, tilting your head slightly to angle your mouth for a kiss. Your lips connected, your hips rolling down against her lap rougher than before, the action shooting a thrill up your spine. Natasha swallowed the moan that left your lips, kissing you deeper, harder. The pressure against your core felt far too good paired with the heated kiss, your lungs begging for air but all you could manage was small gasps between the wonderfully sloppy and passionate kisses. Her hands rubbed over your thighs, squeezing your hips and buttocks on their way to your waist, pulling you closer and closer to her. Your quiet moans and the gentle squelches of your mouths were the only things that could be heard in the living room, your bodies buzzing for more. Her arms tightened around your waist, hugging you in a way that made you want to melt fully into her, your hands moving back into her gorgeous hair so that you could press your chest fully against hers.

You felt your mouth and tongue grow slightly tense, prompting you to forcefully pull yourself away from the kiss, a yawn building up in your throat. Natasha watched you in mild confusion as you tucked your face against your shoulder and brought your hand to cover your mouth to hide the yawn. You heard a quiet chuckle from her right after, the touch of her hands growing gentler as she smoothed them over your middle back soothingly. She was not going to do anything with you tired out of your mind and tipsy, immediately laying off you but keeping you close. Your yawn was so long and intense that tears sprung to your eyes as you brought your hand down, giving Natasha an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry”, you chuckled a bit awkwardly, but Natasha had a loving smile on her face and didn’t seem bothered by your exhaustion in the slightest.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re tired”, she whispered, her hand coming up to brush back some of your hair, caressing your cheek in the process. You nodded your head, your eyes sliding shut at the endearment. She was calling you baby. You were her baby.

“I really wish I wasn’t”, you whispered, your hand sliding slightly lower from her shoulder, remaining on her upper chest. You glanced down, refraining from biting your lip at the thought of undressing her.

“It’s late. You’ve had a long day.” You nodded your head at her words, stifling another yawn behind your hand. Taking a bit of distance from Natasha really made you realize just how exhausted you were, your body feeling weak and sluggish, this time sinking into Natasha in a needier way, one that was driven by the need for comfort instead of lust. You wrapped your arms around her neck in a hug, Natasha’s hands stroking up to your shoulder blades, her lips pressing to your own in a chaste kiss before continuing up your cheek as her arms tightened around you. “I’ll go get you pajamas. Any wishes?”

“Something warm”, you hummed, your half-lidded eyes stinging enough to make you wanna rub them with your fists.

“I’ll get you something warm.” She moved you off her gently, leaning in to kiss the top of your head before fetching you a pair of flannel pajamas. You sat there on the couch feeling warm and fuzzy from her kiss, smiling at the gentle ache in your chest. Natasha changed into more comfortable wear in her bedroom before returning, donning a satin set that made your cheeks heat and eyes wander. You could tell she had no bra on which… shit, you could not let her catch you staring. “Here you go”, she hummed, handing you the folded-up flannel. “I’ll go clean up the kitchen while you change.”

“Thank you.” You took a quick peek at her backside as she walked away, your mind stuck on wondering how nice the fabric and her body would feel against your fingertips. You changed into your pajamas, failing to resist the urge to immediately lie down after to seek relief from your heavy eyelids. You didn’t even realize that you closed them and curled up on the couch facing away from the back rest until Natasha returned and lay down next to you. She turned her head to the side to see your face.

“I have a bed, you know”, she said in a quiet tease that brought a smile to your face.

“I know. It’s just too far away”, you mumbled, forcing your eyes open to see her beautiful face. She let out a barely audible chuckle, holding your gaze, both of your smiles widening just a little bit. There were no more than a few inches between your faces, her proximity always seeming to bring about an excitement that you couldn’t shake. You looked at each other for a moment longer before Natasha turned to her side to fully face you, taking in your sleepy eyes, admiring your relaxed features and weak smile.

“There’s a Christmas party.” You brought your hand between you where her own hand was resting against the cushions. You touched it, barely even grazed it, glancing down at it as it remained still next to her chest. Your fingers started tracing over the silky-smooth skin of her hand, eyes returning to hers. “Or two actually, and I get a plus one.” Your voice was nothing but a sleepy mumble.

“A plus one?” Natasha was clearly in a playful mood, teasing you and your adorably exhausted murmuring.

“Mhmm.” Your hand moved off hers slightly to play with the satin of her pajamas, feeling the fabric with your fingertips. Natasha had a very clear idea of where that was going, your next move coming off as no surprise. You had always kind of sucked at subtle advances, which Natasha loved because she was a person who did not need any more puzzles to solve in her life. Your hand came up to the buttons of her satin pajamas, fiddling with them as if absentmindedly, but Natasha knew that you were looking to get closer to her, looking for comfort, for cuddles. “The first one is at the opera house and the second is home. Wanda wanted to have a party, and I agreed ages ago because it was just another day.”

“Just another day, huh?” Natasha had a smirk on her face, one that you couldn’t see because your eyes were closed.

“If I celebrated Christmas, I’d celebrate it with you”, you elaborated.

“And this won’t be celebrating?” She tried her best not to laugh. You were so obvious.

“No. We’re just attending two parties. No celebrations.” Natasha bit her lip hard to contain her grin, completely enamored by your sleepy demeanor and lackluster logic.

“Alright, Grinch. We won’t celebrate.”

“Would you come as my plus one to both?”

“And what would I come as?” Natasha longed for confirmation about where you two were headed so that she could prepare herself for anything and everything. She could not take heartbreak when it came to you.

“My…” You paused for a moment, looking for a word that would not scare her away. You wanted her to be your girlfriend despite how early it was for any kinds of official titles. You hadn’t even been intimate with her. There was so much you didn’t know about her, but your heart was telling you that she was meant to be yours. You didn’t feel as intensely for just anyone. Your feelings of affection, excitement, and attraction were real, and they were there for a reason. “Woman.”

“Your woman”, she whispered with a giddy, little smile on her face. Your cheeks heated as you smiled, your eyes blinking open to see her reaction to your chosen title. “I’ll come as your woman”, she chuckled lovingly, bringing her hand up to your face to stroke your cheek with the backs of her fingers before sinking the digits into your hair. You nearly purred from how good it felt as she pulled you closer to place a kiss on your lips. You could no longer resist your urge to be in her embrace, taking advantage of the opportunity to crawl closer to her. You were nose to nose, your fingers still playing with the material of her pajamas, still hesitant to get into her arms when you felt so vulnerable. You had been there before, just a moment ago she had been feeling you up, but you were still nervous because it felt different. It felt more intimate. She kissed your lips again, pecking them lightly before kissing the tip of your nose.

“Come on, baby, you need to sleep”, she hummed, pulling away from you, her hand smoothing over your hair as she got up. You blinked your eyes open in disappointment. She was going to leave you to sleep on the couch. Your heart dropped rather painfully, but you didn’t get to wallow in that feeling before her arms had already slid beneath your body. You felt a giddy flash of excitement go through you when she lifted you up into her arms, a soft giggle escaping you. You tucked your head into her neck to hide from the feeling, getting a wonderful whiff of her perfume in the process.

“You’re so strong”, you whispered against her skin in awe, feeling her chest rumble beneath you as she chuckled. You were still just tipsy enough to voice out loud your thoughts. She carried you into her bedroom, laying you down on the soft mattress that made your body melt into it. She didn’t get far after that, your hands clinging to her, pulling her down to sit on the edge of the bed to ensure she didn’t slip away from you. “Stay.” Despite your exhaustion, your body was still swarming with butterflies and the gentle burn between your legs was ever-so present. It would not get any better if she slept away from you.

“I’ll stay, malyshka (baby).” She lay down on the bed beside you, pulling the covers over you to make sure you were warm and safe from the December cold. The second she was in your reach you found the courage to fully let go. You crawled to her side, resting your head on her shoulder, your arm reaching across her waist to keep her close, your top leg sliding over her thigh so that you could be fully pressed up against her. You let out a little hum as you got fully situated into her embrace, breathing in the scent of her perfume, the scent of her body, feeling her warmth through the satin that left the smallest of barriers between you. Your hand smoothed over her stomach, going up to her sternum where it stilled just slightly to the left from the bone. Natasha’s heartbeat was a rapid flutter, one that exposed the emotions beneath that cool and composed exterior of hers. All the muscles in your body relaxed, your mind reveling in the comfort and contentment that her presence and the intimate contact brought you.

Natasha ached in a way that couldn’t be put into words. She felt physically weak, a gentle rush in her ears entailing tears but she did her best to push them aside despite the fact that they were tears of joy, tears of utter elation and relief. You adjusted yourself against her, pushing your body into her as if to remind yourself just how good it felt to be in her embrace, Natasha’s eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. She brought her hand over yours to keep it in place, her head tilting in your direction to rest against your own. She could smell your hair, the gentle scent of your shampoo mixed with the overpowering scent of hairspray. The hand that was around you moved up into your messy locks that had been forcibly tugged down from the hairdo for your show and left unkempt. She allowed her fingertips to sink into it, her nails scraping over your scalp in a way that made you purr. She smiled at the sound, her heart squeezing in her chest as you once more attempted to get closer to her by wiggling your body.

She waited until you fell asleep, wanting nothing more than to just be. She wanted to simply exist beside you and soak up your presence even if you were unconscious. In a way it was even more comforting. She loved knowing that you felt safe and comfortable enough to fall asleep beside her. It was something that couldn’t ever be taken for granted because it was a special kind of trust. You trusted her to keep you safe for the night, and that was all that Natasha could ever ask for. She allowed her thoughts to run wild as she absentmindedly caressed your body in all the ways she had grown used to in her previous life. She must have lain in bed for hours listening to you breathe, needing nothing more. You let out small sounds every now and then, changing positions after her shoulder started to press too roughly against your ear. You rolled around on the bed, clinging to her arm that was wrapped around you, hugging it in a way that left Natasha unable to resist the urge to spoon you. Additionally, it felt way less painful for her arm to properly readjust herself, so she rolled to her side, pressing her body up against yours from behind. She seemed to fit perfectly against your curled up body, molding into shape, covering you like a shield as her arms hugged you to her chest. She fell asleep to the feel of your lungs filling and deflating in a meditational motion that reminded her just how alive you were.

Chapter Text

Your cab pulled up at Natasha’s apartment building. It was Christmas Eve. Your stomach was filled with excited butterflies, your abdomen churning with glee. It was still sunny outside, the golden rays making the snow glisten on the streets. The weather was beautiful, serene. Manhattan seemed to have fallen under a wave of tranquility despite the crowds of people on the streets. It was difficult to describe the atmosphere. It felt lighter, comforting, and overall more welcoming, which you had never noticed before during all your years of living in New York. You fiddled with your diamond earring as you waited for Natasha to exit her apartment building, recalling your first time in her home, recalling the way she had touched you, kissed you, carried you to bed. It had only been a few nights ago. You felt your lips tug up into a smile as you went over the night in your head, the entire day. You couldn’t wait to see her. You had put on a stunning dress that suited the occasion but left you shivering at the back of the cab. You were thrilled to see what Natasha had found herself to wear. You had never seen her in formal attire and you could imagine just how delicious she would look in a form-fitting dress or even a suit. You would not discriminate when it came to Natasha’s clothing. The woman had style.

You noticed the building door open in your peripheral vision, your heart jumping in excitement as if perking up at Natasha’s presence. You couldn’t hold back your smile as you watched her saunter to the cab in high heels, her brown wool coat flowing beautifully on either side of her body, framing her slim frame that was donning a dark brown bodycon dress. You could see just how well it hugged her curves when the wind blew the coat to the side a bit to give you a glimpse of the gorgeous fabric cinched around her waist in a beautifully pleated pattern. Her shoulder-length hair was in tighter, styled curls than what she normally wore, the shiny hair glowing in the sun. She gave you a bright smile through the cab window before you reached for the door and opened it for her, letting her in.

“Hi, dorogaya (darling).” You were welcomed by a strong waft of perfume that enveloped you in its embrace before Natasha could even hug you. She smelled divine. She smelled so delicious that you felt a visceral reaction to it somewhere deep down.

“Hi, love”, you whispered, your breath stolen by her stunning appearance. You leaned into her embrace when she had tugged the door closed and the cab driver was on the move again, pressing your face into her neck, her hand caressing the back of your head carefully to avoid messing up your styled hair. You pulled back to see her face, your grin wide and genuine as your gaze slid down her front without a hint of shame. Her dress had a gorgeous neckline, one that mimicked the style of a corset. You could see the subtle boning of the dress that pushed her breasts up slightly, the shoulder straps of the dress disappearing beneath her coat. “Wow, you look amazing.” You spoke quietly, like you were sharing a secret, somehow always wrapped up in your own world with her. Natasha smirked, her hand brushing back some of your hair to see your diamond earrings. She touched them very delicately, admiring the details before her hand slid down your jaw to the underside of your chin, giving it the gentlest nudge as if to say that you were adorable, your smile turning a bit coyer.

“Thank you, detka (baby), but...” She shook her head as if in disbelief, letting out a small hum that was just a little shy from a chuckle. “You’re breathtaking.” You forced yourself not to giggle like a schoolgirl, containing your excitement and offering her a wider smile.

“Thank you.” Your eyes found her lips and before you knew it, she leaned in and erased the gap between you. Natasha could feel herself blush, her cheeks growing warm from that tiny, chaste kiss that you shared at the back of a cab. You pulled away from her, your eyes lingering on her face as she buckled herself in for the ride. Without the warmth of her body and the kiss, you were once more able to pay attention to how cold you were, a shiver reminding you that you were only wearing a sheer pair of tights with your outfit. Your coat was on the thinner side as well and definitely not made for the winter cold. Natasha turned to look at you, her hand sliding over your thigh.

“Are you cold?” You almost shrugged her question off, but when she started gently rubbing your inner thigh, right above your knee to warm you up a bit, you nodded your head, hoping she was going to keep her touch there. It worked. She pulled you just a little closer to her so that your leg was touching her own, her hand remaining on your thigh, rubbing the skin there absentmindedly as the city scenery passed you by, the driver playing Christmas music quietly in the background. Your body heated up from inside out, your lower abdomen fluttering with arousal every time she moved her gorgeous hand and put pressure on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. You brought your hands to hers, silently admiring her undeniably beautiful hand, its blue-green veins, and the slight blush over her knuckles. Her short nails were manicured, the skin you were touching feeling silky-smooth, almost velvety. It was very clear that she took care of herself, something that would never fail to impress you. She didn’t say anything, just allowed you to play with her hand as she continued to stroke your thigh for the rest of the ride.

You arrived at the party shortly after it had begun. The sun was just about to set outside, creating a gorgeous orange and golden glow everywhere. You entered the opera house lobby, greeted by cloakroom services and a busboy with a tray of champagne glasses. You and Natasha both thanked him before taking your respective flutes from him. Without the coats and scarves, you were able to take a better look at Natasha’s dress, your eyes trailing down her backside when she was in front of you. The fabric was a rich dark brown that was similar to the shade of her wool coat, but what made it special was the pattern of the fabric. There was a thin mesh layer on top of the dark brown fabric that formed the dress, the gorgeous flower design that decorated the dress made out of velvet patches embedded into the mesh. You felt the urge to stroke your fingers over the flowers to see if they really felt as good as you knew velvet to feel, admiring the way light reflected from the warm, rich brown on the velvet flowers. Your very elaborate analysis of the dress was interrupted by movement, Natasha’s hand reaching back to hold your own. It brought a smile to your face, her hand pulling you to her side as you walked farther into the event that was already filled with people.

Natasha’s eyes were as vigilant as ever, scanning the crowd around her as you greeted a ridiculous amount of people who you knew through work. There were actors, singers, musicians, directors, even politicians present, the rather prestigious crowd piquing Natasha’s interests. You were catching up briefly with a colleague you had met during the production of some smaller scale opera you had participated in a few years ago when Natasha heard it. The laugh was unmistakably familiar, someone she knew. Her head whipped around to find the source of it.

“Don’t take a glass of champagne. I’m supposed to be responsible for the underaged. And if you do… don’t tell me.” Natasha couldn’t believe her eyes, losing control of her composure at the sight of him, at the sound of his witty and sarcastic tone. She had merely messaged him, not seen him. All she had done was send him a request for some time off work.

“Romanoff!” Natasha’s heart sank, Tony Stark striding her way with his signature grin on his face after ushering who Natasha was pretty positive to be Peter Parker and MJ Watson away. “What a lovely surprise.” Natasha smiled, struggling to even speak. It felt so surreal to see him there, to have him interact with her, yet not know that she wasn’t the same, she wasn’t her variant, and they didn’t actually know each other. “How’s your holiday going?” She let go of your hand, allowing you to get absorbed by the conversation you were having.

“It’s going- going great”, she replied, feeling a bit flustered.

“Is Christian here?” Natasha had no idea who he even was.

“Um, no, no I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” He gave you a look, taking a sip of his drink. “Trouble in paradise?” Shit. Christian was her partner. Natasha felt herself almost start to panic before she managed to calm herself down. She had a concerning amount of her variant’s business to deal with. If she wanted to keep her new life, she had to make sure she was on top of the baggage that her variant had left behind. She would have to ensure that she implemented any of the changes that were necessary for her new life.

“Yeah. It’s… He’s not the one for me, I’m afraid.” She shrugged her shoulders, Tony nodding in understanding. “I’m not entirely too fond of the male species.” Natasha glanced at you, Tony’s gaze following. He was a bright man, their gazes lingering for a moment as he put together the small smile on her face and the hand holding he had witnessed before his arrival.

“Ah, I always felt like you had a bit of kink to you.” Natasha sighed in disappointment, making Tony laugh. “I’m sorry to hear it didn’t work out. But hey… women.” He shrugged, giving her a look of understanding as if thrilled to share the object of both of their attractions. “And if you ever need to check in with men, you know where to find me.” He winked at her, Natasha’s eyes rolling back in annoyance.

“In your dreams, Stark.” As infuriating as he was, Natasha felt a bubbling warmth in her chest, comforted by his familiar face and presence as well as his acceptance. “I think from now on I’m taking a different route with dating.” Her eyes shifted to you on their own again, admiring the gorgeous dress you were wearing that made you practically glow, Tony squinting his eyes, but he didn’t quite yet jump into conclusions. “So, how’s work?” Natasha inquired casually, wishing to know more about him and his business, since it was rather essential for her to be up to date.

“Oh, you know, the business is flourishing. I got myself an intern. Remember him? Parker.” Natasha nodded her head. “I brought him here to get a taste of the more fun side of the job. He came with his girlfriend MJ.” He rolled his eyes. “Kids.” He shook his head as if fed up with them, but Natasha recognized the small, fond smile that wouldn’t quite leave his lips.

“He’s a smart kid. He knows how to behave”, she assured him, chuckling softly.

“Smart he is. A little fussy too.” He looked around the lobby, gesturing somewhere behind him. Natasha’s gaze followed his pointing finger only to be met with more unexpected and familiar faces. “I’m talking business with Banner and Rhody over there. Pepper is roaming around, if you want company”, he offered kindly, clearly looking to move onward from their small interaction. She nodded her head in acknowledgment.

“I think I’m good here”, she hummed, failing to hide her smile when you moved away from the few people you had been talking to, blindly searching for Natasha’s hand as you backed away from your friends who bid you goodbye before going to get drinks from the bar. She grasped your hand, gently pulling you to her as you took a sip of your champagne.

“Hi”, you hummed in the enamored tone you always had with Natasha, your attention soon shifting to the company she kept. “Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You offered your hand to Tony, smiling brightly, hoping to make an impression on whoever was in Natasha’s social circles.

“Oh, I know you. I saw you perform last week. You were phenomenal. You sure got a pair of lungs on you.” He had his stupid, impish grin on his face. “Bet it comes in handy.” Natasha acquired a disgusted frown onto her face from the subtle and poor innuendo, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Alright. Don’t mind him, he’s an asshole”, Natasha groaned to you, physically shoving him away as a cue for him to get back to his business matters. “Go find Pepper.” He merely laughed, pleased that he could tease her, knowing exactly how much his advances were not appreciated. “Man-whore”, she muttered to herself as he walked away, laughing like the idiot that he was. You turned to look at Natasha with a small grin, not really minding his inappropriate behavior when it was rather clear to you that he was teasing Natasha instead of you.

“Stark?” You raised your brows as if to ask her to fill you in on their interactions. He was relevant enough for you to recognize his face and after learning about Natasha’s occupation it was even easier to put two and two together.

“Yeah. He likes doing fundraisers and hitting on everything that moves.” You laughed at the evident annoyance on Natasha’s face.

“He seems the type.” You thought about it for a moment before speaking again, unwilling to fully admit to yourself that you felt a spark of jealousy in the pit of your stomach. “He hit on you?”

“Every chance he gets.” The grip of your hand that was holding hers tightened almost imperceptibly, but Natasha noticed, a smile finding her face, butterflies stirring awake inside her. Your gaze lingered on the bodice of her dress before rising up to her lips, an urge to slip away from the party finding the back of your mind.

You moved to the bar of the party, finding an array of appetizers and drinks for you to indulge on. You gathered some treats on a plate for you to share before grabbing some holiday themed cocktails for yourselves, finding a round, bar table for you to hang around. You ended up being quite an attraction at the party, many people coming up to you to congratulate you on your performance and compliment your voice. You had a lot of acquaintances who wished to greet you and bid you merry Christmas before disappearing back into the crowd. Natasha saw many familiar faces from the cast, many of the members rather close to you considering all the time you had spent on crafting the production. But there were also surprising faces that approached your table, people who Natasha knew, but who didn’t know her.

“Sam Wilson.” He offered his hand to Natasha to shake after hugging you tightly. She had hardly recognized him by appearance. He had a fluffy afro that gave him a rather boyish look that really suited his youthful features. His style was different, but his personality seemed somewhat similar to what she had always known. He was accompanied by a woman, who Natasha had a feeling she had at least heard of back in her own reality.

“Sam is in charge of the lights and Kate is in costume design”, you explained to her, pleased that Natasha was so welcoming when it came to your friends. You chatted for a while with the pair of them, Natasha’s interests piqued by having the privilege of analyzing the dynamics that you had with others. It was a way for her to see another side of you and get to know you even better.

“Maria Hill. It’s nice to meet you”, Maria gave Natasha a polite nod, waving you both goodbye after having briefly greeted you. Natasha turned to you expectantly, hoping to know more about Maria who had nearly caused her to swallow her crab cake down the wrong pipe.

“She’s in The Magic Flute. She’s one of the Three Ladies”, you explained to her. “We met for the first time in Julliard in vocal training, but we became friends later on after running into each other enough times here.” You chuckled in mild amusement. “We’re not that close, but we get along.” Natasha nodded in understanding. “She’s also friends with another woman we know from Julliard. She’s the second one of the Three Ladies. Carol Danvers.” Natasha bit the inside of her cheek to hide her surprise. It was truly shocking to see that many of the people she had once known were still somehow connected, somehow linked to one another in the most bizarre ways imaginable.

“Wonderful performance yesterday.” A tall man with a long face and a goatee approached you, pulling you into his embrace. It was shocking to see you know the people Natasha also knew, a large fraction of her energy going into processing all the familiar, yet unfamiliar faces.

“Steven”, you gasped, sounding elated to see him, pulling back to take a look at his face. You turned to Natasha automatically to include her in the interaction, giving them both the chance to introduce themselves. “This is Natasha Romanoff. Steven Strange.” He was accompanied by his wife, Christine Palmer.

Natasha almost didn’t want to shake his hand, worried that he would know something, that he could tell she didn’t belong. Who was to say he hadn’t kept a fraction of his powers in this reality, kind of like how Wanda had? At the very least, it was possible that he had maintained a certain kind of sensitivity for the spiritual.

“Nice to meet you. What do you do here?” Natasha decided to act normal, simply be polite and hope for the best. She shook hands with Christine as well.

“Likewise. I play Sherlock Holmes in the musical”, he answered with a curt nod. He was concealed, very proper. He turned to you again. “Coulson and Fury were looking for you. They wanted to discuss an upcoming project for next year.”

“Really?” Your eyes widened with excitement.

“Yes. Fury is directing a new adaptation of Le Nozze di Figaro. Coulson is going to produce it, for as of now, at least”, he explained, glancing at his wife. “It was nice seeing you. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.” He nodded to both you and Natasha before he was off.

“Oh, my god.” You turned to Natasha with your eyes shining in excitement. “What do you think they want from me?” She smiled at you, her hand caressing your arm over the fabric of your long sleeve that you wore to keep yourself warm.

“Your voice, baby”, she whispered quietly, smiling brightly. She was so proud of you, so incredibly impressed by your craft and your skill, so much so that she could almost ignore the fact that Fury was an opera director and Coulson a producer; what a reality to live in.

“I’m so sorry, I hope you don’t feel like you’re third wheeling here.” You felt bad for having so many acquaintances and friends around you especially when Natasha was so unfamiliar with the entire scene, but she immediately shook her head to alleviate your worries.

“Oh, I don’t mind it in the slightest, milaya (honey). I’m rather intrigued. You’ve got a very fascinating work environment”, she assured you, pulling you just a little bit closer, her eyes admiring the front of your dress that had a low neckline and the kind of delicate fabric that in all honesty made Natasha want to bite you through your dress.

After hunting down Fury and Coulson and discussing the upcoming year with them you were practically buzzing, and not only from the small amount of alcohol you had had, but also your future, Natasha, the atmosphere. Your life was the best it had ever been, your career, your friends, your love life, all of it amplified by Natasha’s thrilling presence. The feeling was impossible to ignore when it was so all-consuming. You couldn’t stay away from her, wishing to share the joy that coursed through you, the joy that was moving rapidly down south between your legs. Your eyes dipped down to her lips. You were at a corner of the lobby that had less people around. You had finally escaped all your friends and coworkers, something you both seemed to appreciate. Natasha was holding your arm, stroking the inside of your forearm in long, tantalizing strokes that truly should not have sent your mind into the gutter, but they did so, nonetheless.

She was looking at you with those gorgeous eyes of hers, that softened gaze melting your insides. You were so close to one another, faces mere inches apart, your heart hacking expectantly in your chest, butterflies swarming around the organ. Kissing was allowed in public. It was socially acceptable to kiss your woman in public. Your eyes dipped to her mouth again, her lips seeming to be stuck in a slight smile that she couldn’t shake off whenever she was near you. Just one kiss. You glanced up at her eyes, completely enamored by her, leaning in to connect your lips. Her mouth was warm and soft, so incredibly inviting as her lips moved slightly, enough to simply give you a peck, but then you felt her sweet breath tickle your chin, your heart lurching in your chest. You felt a rapid flutter between your legs, her hand that moved to your waist threatening to make your knees buckle. Her touch was gentle, simple, yet it made you so hungry, so unbelievably hungry for more. You kissed her again. Fuck. Fuck, you fucked up.

“I need you”, you whispered hastily against her lips, gripping her arm almost desperately. Natasha felt the heat rise to her cheeks in an instant. She pulled away from you enough to see your face, the lust in your eyes making her heart race. She knew that face. She knew it better than any other face, and she knew exactly what it entailed. She bit her lip hard, taking a step back to control herself.

“I know a place.” She smirked mischievously, grabbing your hand to pull you with her. You snuck away from the lobby, finding yourselves in the hallways of the opera house, music rooms upon music rooms lined up along the corridor. You both aimed for the one you had been in a few days before, the one you always used for warmups and practice. You yanked the door open, slipping inside with Natasha in tow, your rushed steps the only sound in the room as she slammed the door shut behind you, wasting no time in pushing you up against it, her lips capturing yours in a feverish kiss. You sank against the door behind you, her body pinning you down, her hand finding your hair and the back of your head to cushion you. The kiss was almost numbing with its intensity, your hands finding her waist to grip, moving down to her buttocks to pull her closer to your hips. The pressure was enough to make you throb, your body longing for more of it, for more direct contact that wasn’t dulled down by your dresses.

Your movements were rushed, driven by a frenzy of arousal, one that was difficult to contain and impossible to ignore. You parted your lips wider for her, allowing her tongue better access to your mouth, the feel of the wet muscle stroking you making your knees weak with desire. You felt like melting, like you were going to sink to the floor and through the floor tiles from how good it felt, but Natasha’s body, her strong, firm, feminine body was holding you up. Your moan was muffled by Natasha’s lips and a moan of her own when you moved your hands up the sides of her dress, fingertips skimming over the boning closest to her sides before bringing your hands up over her armpits, stroking her sculpted shoulders. For a moment Natasha lost her composure, gasping into your mouth when your hands went over the sensitive area of her armpits as if she would have been ticklish, the contact with her bare skin forcing her to take a breath before going back in to kiss you.

Natasha was dizzy with want. She felt like she was struggling to function properly with how much she was feeling. Her entire body was on fire, burning in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long while. It was a different kind of burn. It was stronger. It was new and exciting because it was you, but it also wasn’t. There were things she didn’t know about you, things that were enough to cause her nervous butterflies. There was so much at stake with you. It was thrilling, nerve racking, exciting. She wanted to impress you, she wanted you to like her, to love her. She wanted to please you, show you a good time whether it was physically or emotionally. She wanted you in every sense of the word, beyond desperate to fulfill any needs you might have had. Kissing you was difficult for Natasha to describe. It was familiar, but it wasn’t quite the same. She recognized many of the little things you did like the small pecks you gave her in between the longer kisses, and the way your hands often remained gentle despite the raw hunger of your mouth. She also noted some less familiar habits you had like nipping on her lip every now and then or taking briefly control over her by pushing back against her tongue.

You felt Natasha lean slightly away from you, lips still connected, a firm pressure moving between your legs as she slid her knee between your thighs, offering hers for you to grind down on. You gasped at the sensation, breaking off from the kiss, your skin erupting with goosebumps as pleasure rippled through you. She felt warmth glide down her spine at the sound, applying more pressure with her thigh, her lips moving down to your neck in hasty, wet kisses, her left hand trailing down to your hip, giving it a firm squeeze. You gathered yourself enough to be able to look at her face, immediately met with Natasha’s dilated pupils that you could barely make out in the dimness of the room, the only light source coming from the star on the window. You observed her features as you slid your hands down to her hips, your fingertips skimming over the tops of her glutes, but not quite yet going farther. Natasha smirked, unable to contain her reaction to your touch, her mouth dropping back down to your bared neck.

The hand that was on your hip tugged you down against her thigh harder than you had dared to go yourself, the feel of it far too good paired with the way she gripped your hip. To your dismay, she moved her thigh away from your body, her hand descending slowly over your lower abdomen and between your legs to be able to put some more direct pressure on you. She sucked gently on your neck, mindful of leaving any marks, the warmth of her mouth making your head feel weightless. Her fingertips curled up against your core through the fabric of your dress, pressing down hard enough for an involuntary moan to slip from you. The deep and unrestrained sound brought goosebumps to Natasha’s skin, your hand flying over your mouth to keep in any other stray moans that wanted to escape your throat. She pulled back with a cocky smile on her lips, her fingertips rubbing you carefully through your clothing.

“Now, that’s the kind of vocal warmups I like.” She seemed incredibly pleased with herself, making you grin in return.

“Shut up”, you groaned in a playful manner, hiding your giggle into her hair alongside your blush. She smelled so good that you had to linger in her embrace for a moment longer to breathe in the heady combination of spices, floral notes, and fruit. You pulled her closer with your hands, sliding them lower over the curve of her buttocks again, your core aching against Natasha’s hand. You noticed her subtly bite her lip when your dominant hand reached lower to properly feel her up. She couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you, wasting no time in connecting your lips again in a kiss that made you seek more from the hand between your legs. When the feeling got far too prominent to be ignored, you pulled away, panting heavily into the small gap between you and Natasha.

“I wanna go home”, you hummed quietly, your hand coming up to her face to caress her chin. You admired her sharp jaw, her round lips that were plumpened by your kisses, the skin pink and irritated. She looked irresistible. “I wanna experience the ideal Christmas you described.” You wanted nothing more than to go home and spend the night with her. You wanted to truly take your time with her, relax in her presence instead of having rushed and messy intercourse at the opera house. She was worth far more. “Wanda’s gone for the evening.”

“Say less, malyshka (baby)”, she mumbled in an amused tone, chuckling softly as she leaned in to peck your lips.

You snuck out of the party rushing through the glass doors and into a subtle snowfall that made you think of a parallel from nearly a month ago. You shrugged on your coats rather hastily, your hand reaching for Natasha’s once the clothing was somehow hanging on your shoulders, your other hand clutching your scarf and coat to your chest to stave off the cold. You both rushed to the closest taxi you spotted on the street where you had nearly gotten run over. Despite the traumatic quality to that specific event, you felt a strong sense of gratitude wash over as you glanced at the spot on the ground you had landed on after Natasha had shoved you out of the car’s way. What a blessing in disguise.

Chapter Text

The cab ride to your house was one filled with giddy glances and small touches that made you warm enough to take off your scarf to find some relief. It was impossible to keep the atmosphere casual when all you and Natasha could do was giggle like two fools in love as you sat at the back, both fighting the urge to kiss the other to maintain some implicit social rules to avoid making the driver uncomfortable. Your hand was over her sheer tights tracing small circles into her thigh. You imagined different shapes that you drew against her, your touch outlining hearts and stars along the muscle of her outer thigh, the corners of Natasha’s lips remaining up in a small grin that couldn’t be wiped off her face. The driver dropped you off in front of the brownstone, you and Natasha rushing up the steps. You dug out your key and unlocked the door, kicking it shut after Natasha had entered, both of you dropping your purses to the floor and tugging off your outerwear. The second you were free of your coat, Natasha’s hands were on your body, pulling you close, her lips kissing their way down your jaw to your lips.

She brought your leg up as high as your dress allowed, gathering the fabric up in the process to be able to lift you into her arms. She did it so effortlessly that you felt a visceral reaction to it, a moan leaving your lips. Her hands found your buttocks, smoothing over the curve of your behind, the outside of your thighs before going up your back to your shoulders and arms. She repeated the circle a few times, simply feeling your body against hers, your legs wrapped around her waist tightly, arms around her neck as you kissed her breathless. Your heels slipped off your feet, thudding somewhere on the floor of the entrance as Natasha carried you into the living room, plopping down on the cushions rather carelessly, a small squeal leaving your mouth as you squished her into the couch, eliciting a joyous chuckle from her before your lips were once more connected. She rubbed your thighs again, simply to feel you, reminding herself that you were real, you were warm and alive in her arms. You were right there touching her, pressed up against her.

“You look so gorgeous tonight”, Natasha said quietly into the kiss, the words tickling your lips, bringing a smile to your face.

“So do you.” You chuckled softly, arching yourself a little closer to her when you felt her hands at the back of your dress, tracing the zipper of it, her fingertips flicking the pull tab. She pulled back enough to look you in the eyes, your hands playing with her hair at the back of her head, gently scratching her neck.

“Can I?” Her hand found the zipper, ready to pull it down.

“Yeah”, you breathed out the words in between chaste pecks against her lips. You felt your stomach flip when you heard the gentle purr of the zipper as it slid down, the cool air of the room brushing over your warm back. It made you want to shiver, the entire situation did. She eyed you intensely as she undressed your top half, carefully peeling down the fabric to reveal your lace bra. It was the most beautiful one you owned and the fact that you had put it on just in case was luckily paying off. Your cheeks heated rapidly, burning up as her gaze slid down to your breasts, her hands uncovering you like you were a neatly wrapped Christmas present. The look in her eyes was soft, adoring, your nipples straining against the thin lace of the bra when you felt her fingertips skim over your breasts. You couldn’t help but move, your hips pressing down on her lap as you squirmed slightly, unable to handle the undivided attention that was directed at you. It made you buzz in a way that you hadn’t felt with anyone you had recently been with. You had forgotten how thrilling it was to feel such strong infatuation.

“I love the bra”, she hummed softly, allowing her thumb to swipe over the lace cup, rubbing over your hard nipple in the process. She could barely see the darker patch of skin through the dark red bra, her heart hammering in her chest in anticipation.

“Good. I chose it for you”, you whispered with a small, infectious smirk on your lips that Natasha immediately returned, pleased out of her mind. She allowed her left hand to cup your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze, her eyes rising up to see your reaction to her touch. You blinked slowly as if resisting the urge to just close your eyes and sink into her. “Take it off”, you moaned lightly, desperate to get out of your clothes so that you could feel her against your bare skin. You kissed her with such fervent passion that Natasha could be nothing but flattered by it.

“Shh, baby, slowly. I’m not going anywhere.” She laughed quietly, affectionately, caressing the side of your head, her mouth lingering close to your own, unable to fully part from you. “I want to savor the moment.” She said in a playful tone, earning a breathy chuckle from you.

“Mmh, savor it some other time.” You sighed at the feel of her right hand joining her left one on your chest, both of your breasts getting equal treatment. Your comment made her laugh again, Natasha leaning in to kiss you. She would have loved to keep teasing you, but it was impossible for her to resist the temptation of seeing you bare. She wanted to know if you looked the same, if you felt the same, had the same birthmark, moles, and freckles. She wanted so very badly to know more.

“Hmm, alright, detka (baby). I’ll let it slide this time.” Her words and the tone she spoke with made a spark of warmth glide down your spine. You had a feeling you were not going to get your way for the rest of the night. She unhooked your bra, sliding the straps off your arms to let your breasts free from the support of the lingerie. She swallowed thickly, wanting nothing more than to latch onto your perky nipple, the alluring smile on your face bringing a blush to her cheeks, their pinkness only deepening. Unable to control the raging passion inside her she threw you down onto the couch cushions, eliciting a joyous scream from you that was followed by a long giggle as your head hit the pillow at the end of the couch. She knelt between your legs, her hands caressing your outer thighs and knees as she looked down at you, your hair splayed out to frame your face. Your eyes met, your wild grin squeezing at Natasha’s heart.

You lifted your hips up enough to allow you to slide your dress and the waistband of your tights down your hips, Natasha’s eyes glued on the way the act made your breasts move, causing her to lag behind slightly before she realized to help you with undressing, peeling your tights off slowly to avoid ripping them. You were left with the bottom piece of your matching lingerie set, the dark red triangle disappearing between your legs.

“Fuck.” The word was nothing but a whisper, so imperceptible that you weren’t sure if you had imagined it. Natasha wasted no time in leaning over you, your hands finding her waist to welcome her into your arms. She kissed your lips hastily, impatiently as if unable to decide which part of you to kiss first, the kisses descending down your jaw and neck, Natasha dizzy with arousal when her lips trailed over the sensitive skin of your throat before reaching your collarbones. She nipped you gently, making you gasp, more goosebumps finding your skin, your hands moving into her hair to mess up her styled curls. You brushed your fingers through them, ruffling them up to make them messy because there was nothing sexier than a woman with a messy bed head. Once her curls were fluffed up to perfection, your hands found her dress again, tugging on it feebly to communicate to her that you wanted it off. Your hands moved rather automatically to the back of the dress to pull down the zipper. Natasha backed away from your neck enough to get the entire dress off her, your hands baring her upper body completely, throwing the piece of clothing to the floor. You gasped in surprise at the lack of underwear you had just discovered, staring right at Natasha’s bare breasts. She smirked at your obvious reaction, bracing herself against the couch to leave a small gap between you as you unabashedly admired her figure, taking in her dark pink nipples, the fullness of her heavy breasts, the way her collarbones framed her chest.

“My god, you’re beautiful”, you whispered in awe, your hand reaching up to cup her breast. She was truly a sight with her tousled hair, sexy eyes, and plump lips that you had kissed pink. The skin of her chest was warm and oh-so silky smooth, prompting you to touch her with both of your hands. You fondled her chest, rubbing your hands over her upper body in a way that made Natasha’s eyes flutter shut, your touch causing her to melt right into you. She moved her head lower, her wet kisses finally finding your chest. She glanced up at you, unable to wipe off her smile, her tongue licking over one of your breasts with ardent greed. You arched your back off the couch, tugging her hips tighter against your own with one hand, the other gripping her hair in a way that Natasha was going to remember forever. You moaned at the feeling of her lips wrapping around your nipple, your other breast getting palmed by her hand.

“Oh, mmh, that feels so good, love”, you whispered, your eyes closed and body feeling heavy. Natasha hummed in acknowledgement, her mouth full of your breast, her teeth scraping over the sensitive skin, the sounds making your underwear damper than they already were. She moved over to the other breast, giving it a similar treatment before moving lower, kissing down your abdomen to your navel and hips where she found the mark she had been looking for. You still had the same patch of discoloration in the shape of a disfigured star on your skin, although it wasn’t under your left breast, but on your right hip instead. Natasha kissed over it, like she always had, her eyes threatening to sting with tears from discovering yet another part of the old you that she had lost.

She sat up, her hands stroking casually over your bare legs, her feather-light touch making you shiver. You were so wet you could feel it, your body pushing out more arousal as you pulsed around nothing, beyond ready for more. She looked down at your thighs, following the movement of her hand as her finger dipped to your inner thigh, caressing the lace of your underwear, the look on her face one of admiration. You felt your cheeks flush with a searing heat as you imagined all the possibilities you had at hand, your gaze dipping down to her mouth, those lips curving into a slight smirk. She leaned down to kiss your knee, stroking her hand up your thigh, nearly making you tremble with such a simple act.

“Tell me, baby. I’ll give you whatever you need.” It was as if she could see right into your mind, so in tune with you and your thoughts. You bit your lip, tucking your face against your shoulder to hide how affected you were by her, your stomach bubbling with warmth. After gathering yourself, you managed to sit up, your lips finding hers rather automatically, your hand slipping beneath the waistband of her tights. Natasha caught onto your wishes, lifting her hips off the couch by getting onto your knees, your hands pulling the sheer fabric down her thighs, your mouths busy exchanging sloppy kisses. She changed her position again to allow you to inch the tights down her calves and off her feet until she was bare for you. She leaned over you, pushing you onto your back, her hand cupping your sex, lips only deepening your kiss as your own hand found its way between her strong thighs. Your fingertips felt over the black lace of her thong, the fabric damp in a very telling way, your lips threatening to stretch into a smile in the middle of your kiss.

The way Natasha kissed you was indescribable. It felt needy, desperate, yet passionate. If you would have had to describe it with a single word, you would have used starved. The touch of her lips was deliciously bruising, her tongue dominant and firm. She wasn’t afraid to use teeth, she wasn’t afraid to touch you, she wasn’t afraid to please you, her confidence shining through rather clearly. She knew what she was doing, and somehow, she seemed to know what she was doing with you. Her hand moved between your legs, her hips adding more pressure over your core, Natasha swallowing your moans. It felt dizzying. You felt intoxicated, the touch of her hand creating a compelling pull inside you that seemed to hit every single one of your nerves just right. She replaced her hand with her hips so that she would be able to touch the rest of you, her hand sliding up your abdomen to grope your breast on the way to your face. She gripped your chin, guiding you to tilt your head back slightly to find a better angle before her hand sank into your hair, tugging it gently from the roots.

Her hips ground down on you roughly, her back arching with each thrust, your rushed breaths tickling each other’s faces. You met the movement of her hips, your underwear rubbing together to create friction, but it was nowhere near enough. You felt her moan into your mouth, the sound erupting goosebumps all over you, any signs of pleasure from her making your veins fill with electricity. Soon enough the thrill of it all made you run out of breath, prompting you to pull away from the kiss, both panting heavily, your arms caressing Natasha’s naked body as she leaned back slightly to give you some space, your eyes immediately dropping to her breasts and the way her abdominal muscles rippled beneath her skin with every movement of her hips.

“God, you’re sexy”, you breathed out, your hands moving to her breasts, drawn in by her pink nipples and the softness of her skin. She let out a small, amused huff. Natasha had no words for you. She couldn’t say a thing, not with the whirlwind of emotion that was inside her. She couldn’t process a single thing. She couldn’t. All she could do was devour you in another kiss that left you completely breathless.

You hadn’t felt that kind of passion perhaps ever. You hadn’t encountered such raw human need before, Natasha’s rough touch still delicate in all the right places as she eased off you slightly, her hand finding its way between your legs again. She rubbed you over your underwear, breaking off from the wet kiss to see your face. You stared up at her through your heavy eyelids, admiring the undeniably dominant air that she carried. She had a soft look on her face as she observed your every reaction to her touch, her fingers rubbing circles over the wet patch in your underwear. It felt far too good, your lips parting on their own to let the moans and soft whimpers pass. The weight of her hot, lithe, yet strong body on top of you was perfect as you squirmed slightly beneath her, your body unable to quite contain the pleasure she brought you. She kissed your lips between moans, your cheek, your hair, her mouth leaving no part of you untouched. Her right hand and her lips caressed you like you were something delicate, something valuable, yet the hand between your legs grew rougher.

You let out a quiet yelp, your breathing loud and heavy by her ear. God, she hadn’t even touched you properly without a barrier in the way and you were ready to come. Your hips rolled against her hand impatiently, your own hands exploring the expanse of her back, sliding down to her buttocks, your dominant hand dipping between them where her thong was still covering her up. Your fingertips reached lower, finding that wetness that you knew to be there. You tried to remain patient as you touched her clothed sex, but when Natasha swallowed down her grunt you felt yourself lose any semblance of patience you might have had. You tugged on the underwear, peeling it over her buttocks, eliciting a small chuckle from Natasha.

“Impatient, I like it”, she mumbled with a slight smile on her lips, kissing your cheek firmly before pulling away enough to allow you to see what you were uncovering as you slid the small piece of black lace down her thighs, your eyes nailed on the triangle of light orange hair between her legs. You couldn’t help but sit up slightly to see her better, your hands caressing the silky skin of her legs, your dominant hand brushing the inside of her thigh that was even softer than the muscular outside of her thigh. She shivered, you could see it, noticed the goosebumps that found her skin as your fingertips brushed only barely over her pubic hair. Her breathing was heavy, her abdominal muscles contracting in anticipation. You glanced up at her for permission, receiving a gentle nod from her as you slid your fingers over her folds, her hand finding your knee for support, a quiet gasp leaving her. She was soaked through, effortlessly coating your fingers with slick. You felt your entire body react to the feel of her wet folds, the heated skin there soft and smooth. You bit your lip, already able to imagine how good that part of her would feel against you, against your mouth, against your sex.

“You’re unreal.” The disbelief was evident in your tone. It was hard for you to believe that someone so beautiful could exist, could be near you, could want you. She seemed to keel over slightly, her eyes sliding shut against her own will as you moved your hand, properly feeling around her sex, applying a generous amount of pressure on her. “You’re so wet, fuck.” She bit her plump lower lip, her breath slightly ragged as she focused fully on the feeling you gave her, savoring it with everything she had.

“Mmh, Y/N.” You hadn’t expected her saying your name to cause such a prominent reaction in your body, electricity spreading down back and through your limbs, your hips squirming slightly with the need to be touched. You were both desperate for the other and it was so obvious that had you not been so affected by her you would have found it hilarious.

Her hand moved down your thigh and between your legs, moving up slightly to find the waistband of your underwear. She lingered in your touch for just a moment longer before pulling back, both of her hands grasping the flimsy lace and pulling it up your thighs in one swift movement. Her gentle hands guided your knees apart, spreading you fully open for her, the way she skimmed her fingertips over your inner thighs making your legs tremble almost imperceptibly, like a shiver going through you. She sat back on the couch, her thumb swiping gently over your folds, over your clit, making you gasp rather loudly at the throb that went through you.

“Talk about wet”, she chuckled in a pleased tone, stroking your clit a few more times to see you writhe on the cushions. You couldn’t help but laugh yourself. You knew exactly how wet you were. You had been uncomfortably wet ever since leaving the party.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You gave her a little smirk, one that Natasha immediately returned as she got onto her knees. You straightened your left leg, your thoughts clearly aligned, both aiming for the same thing. You let out a soft giggle that was a mix of excitement and disbelief over the fact that somehow she seemed to know what you were after as she straddled your lower half.

“What am I gonna do about it?” She repeated in a teasing chuckle. “I’m gonna ride you, malyshka (baby).” You attempted to bite back your moan when she lowered herself down on you, your hands immediately finding her hips to grip, your mouth opening in a ragged gasp.

“Shit, Natasha”, you moaned heavily at the wetness of her sex against yours, a quiet squelch sounding between your connected bodies. Your eyes rolled back, another moan sounding from you, accompanied by a matching one from Natasha.

“Oh, baby, mmh.” She fought the weight of her eyelids to be able to see all the ways in which pleasure contorted your features. She loved how your brows furrowed, how your irritated lips parted, how your eyes screwed shut. She could feel every tiny movement of your body when you were connected, her walls fluttering from pure arousal as she ground herself against you as slowly as she could possibly muster, taking her time with you, with the all-consuming pleasure, with the entire moment. “You’re perfect.” You couldn’t respond to her, your chest heaving with each loud exhale you let out, your hips gyrating up into her own, hands pulling her down as tightly as possible. Her pale body was blushing from the neck down, the dusting of pink over her cheeks reaching over her nose and up to her ears. You wished you would have had more hands to touch her, the mesmerizing movement of her body making her breast bounce in a way that made you unabashedly want to touch them, her rosy nipples begging to be suckled. You wanted to see the shade turn a vibrant pink, a deep, delicious pink. You moved your hands down to her thighs, rubbing over the smooth skin there before dipping to her buttocks. You moaned at the way she rolled her hips against you, the warmth inside you spreading all over your body as you brought your hands back to her hips, your thumbs rubbing over her hip bones. Your touch slid up to her waist, caressing her abdomen, tracing the muscles there. It made Natasha seek more of it by leaning over you, her mouth finding yours on its own.

“You feel so good”, you nearly whimpered, pushing yourself up against her with your feet, your dominant hand finding her lower back to keep her in place, the other hugging her tightly, nails sinking into her muscular back to leave behind light pink lines. She ground down harder. “Oh, yes! Mmh.”

“Fuck, detka (baby). You like it that much, hm?”

“More, Natasha, please… Harder.” You sounded desperate, her hips grinding against you feverishly, each ardent stroke of her sex against yours building up the pressure between your legs, your muscles starting to cramp in a way that made you gasp for air as you clung to Natasha’s sweaty body, your mouth pressed into her neck, teeth scraping the skin as you panted heavily right beside her ear. You gripped her roughly, Natasha hissing in pleasure at the way your nails dug into the soft flesh of her buttocks and her back. Despite all your huffing, you managed to find her lips once more, focusing all your efforts into kissing the moans off her lips. You bit down on her lower lip, trying to control the sensation in your body, but you soon parted from her. She placed a wet kiss on your lips before pushing herself upright, her hand smoothing over your breasts and abdomen in the process as she sat up properly, her sex aligned over yours in a more direct way. She was panting heavily, holding in her little moans as she eased herself off you, her eyes moving down to your wet folds. You saw the string of slick that connected you to her, your head lolling back, accompanied by a groan.

“God, that’s hot”, you mumbled incoherently. She was too hot for you to handle, yet you forced yourself to get onto your elbows to see her properly no matter how badly you just wanted to melt into the couch.

Natasha brought her hand to your folds, her thumb stroking over your clit. You flinched at the direct contact, feeling incredibly sensitive to any of her efforts. You watched her bite her lip as she spread your folds open for her to gain better access to your clit before lowering herself back down. You hissed softly, your body on overdrive. It felt far too delicious to have her clit pressed up against your own, to feel it glide smoothly against you as she moved her hips in a slow grind. A slight moan tumbled from her lips, her full weight resting over you after she found her desired angle. She threw her messy hair back to get it out of her face, her right hand reaching for your knee to find support as she began to roll her hips against your own at a steady pace, her left hand finding your chest. She traced the shape of your breast before squeezing it firmly, her hand remaining there as she ground down even harder, building the pace up into rough thrusts that made you see stars. You slowly lost control of the noises you made and the hands that were gripping her thighs, pleasure rippling through you with such urgency and intensity that all you could do was take it as you sank fully into the cushions. The noises you made were nothing short of lewd, your low, loud moans mixed with unintelligible whimpers and heavy panting.

“I’m-” The coil in your abdomen was ready to snap, the pressure in your muscles reaching its peak effortlessly. You were far too aroused to resist it, your body trying its best to process the overload of pleasure, causing you to writhe beneath her. You hid your face against your shoulder, unaware of even doing so until you felt a hand on your chin, Natasha’s touch guiding you to look at her.

“Let me see you come, detka (baby).” She spoke quietly despite the way her hips rutted into you. She held your chin firmly, the grip of her fingers making you lose any semblance of composure you had left. She was perfect. You couldn’t help but to give her what she wanted, longing to please her. You tried your best to hold your eyes open, catching just a glimpse of her muscular body, the tantalizing manner in which her hips rutted into yours hard enough to make the couch shake, before your body reached its limit and threw you over the edge into a sea of pleasure. Your eyes squeezed shut with a guttural moan, mouth agape, gasping for air between whimpers as you pulsed around nothing, your muscles releasing the tension that had accumulated in your body in short bursts that felt undeniably delicious, dizzying, intoxicating. You could barely hear her moans over your own, but you could feel the tremor in her thighs, her erratic thrusts against you as you came, the stimulus only spurring your release on and making it even more intense.

Natasha was losing her ability to function, the pleasure coursing through enough to immobilize her, but she wasn’t quite there yet, her firm hand pressing your thigh down to open you as wide as the couch would allow, the fresh slick that was dripping out of you with each pulse of your body was mouth-watering, but it also lessened the friction between you. She let out a muffled groan, biting her lip as a whimper escaped her. She was so close, god, she was right there. She just needed a little push to find release, just a little bit more.

“Come on, baby, come”, you moaned, gripping her thighs a little harder, attempting to thrust your hips up to provide at least a bit of counterforce. The noises from your bodies were obscene, the loud, sloppy squelching causing something primal to stir within you. The feeling was hard to explain, a mere jumble of emotion and raw need. “Fuck, you’re so wet, fuck. Oh, my god.” Her eyes were screwed shut, head thrown back, face contorted in pleasure, mouth agape as she finally reached her peak, her entire body jerking forward from the intensity of her release. You saw the way her abdominal muscles contracted, her body slowing down to focus on the warm electricity that consumed her, each pulse of her sex against yours making her whole body twitch. The sight was mesmerizing, she was mesmerizing, her pale body blushing pink in all the right places, a gentle sheen of sweat covering her neck and chest. Her hair was a mess, eyes filled with the kind of lust that made you blush and look away.

“That’s it”, Natasha praised quietly as she came down from her orgasm, easing her thrusts into a slower grind that allowed you a better opportunity for both of you to really savor the feeling. “Good girl.” She brought your knee to her chest, hugging it tightly to deepen the movement as if to massage you with her body, her eyes threatening to roll back from the thought of coming against you, the combination of your arousals warm and sticky between you.

“Natasha.” It was all you could really say. You had no words. Your body relaxed slowly from your release, but you could tell that it was already building back up with Natasha’s restless hips on yours. “Mmh.” You got up onto your elbows, intending to sit up, but her hand found your chest again to push you back down, her lips capturing yours in a firm kiss. One of your hands came up to her chest to massage her breast, the other at her lower back. The kiss was long and deep, her tongue caressing the seam of your lips, but now quite dipping inside yet.

“What is it, pretty girl?” Her voice was smooth, the words whispered against your lips. You could barely take it, your lips spreading into a huge grin. You simply felt so amazing.

“You’re so… sexy.” It came out in a sigh of pure awe and wonder of her beauty. Your hands moved up to her face, cupping her blazing cheeks as you looked her in the eyes. She had a slight smirk on her lips, your eyes locked.

“Thank y-” The words got muffled by your lips because you were too impatient to let her finish. You giggled into the kiss, feeling so light beneath her, the sensation of contentment something you hadn’t quite been expecting. Somehow you had gotten used to less than pleasant sexual encounters that had blurred the value of emotional intimacy. You had almost forgotten what it was like to truly enjoy yourself, enjoy the presence of the other, and above all have fun together. Your joy and relief were contagious, the small giggles you let out infecting Natasha. She chuckled softly, pulling away from the messy kiss because you were both clearly feeling too much to be able to focus on kissing. You stared at each other with wild grins on your lips, your hands caressing her heated cheeks. “You’re everything I’ve been looking for”, she mumbled, pecking your lips, but she mostly just kissed your teeth that were bared by your smile. You gathered yourself enough to reciprocate the innocent kiss, but a small shift of her hips reminded you just how far from innocent you two were.

“God, we are messy”, you groaned, moving your hips against hers to really feel the slick between you, your hand reaching down to find the sloppy wetness you had created. Your fingers slid to her sex, rubbing her folds to coat your fingers with your combined come, Natasha’s body arching automatically closer to you as if unable to hold herself back, her heaving chest pressing against your own.

“We are.” She moaned the words out in a low, breathy sound that made ripples of electricity flash across your skin. She sounded downright erotic. You brought your hand back up to your faces, fingers glistening with the aftermath of your release. You gave her a small smirk before sliding the digits into your mouth, Natasha’s head dropping beside your own from how affected she was by the sight, an imperceptible curse muttered into your ear. Her taste was mild, not nearly enough to satisfy you. You wanted more, and you wanted it straight from the source.

After managing to catch your breaths, Natasha moved off you, squeezing herself between you and the couch, your heads resting on the decorative pillow, hands caressing the other in a languid manner that made your nerves perk up. Natasha’s hand was in your hair, scratching your scalp gently as you both just reveled in the warmth and comfort that followed your orgasms. There was no rush, no need to carry on until you both felt like it, your hand circling her plump breast in a way that already entailed that there was more to come. She kissed your lips, savoring every tiny brush of your sensitive skin against hers, unable to believe that she had gotten what she had wanted, that she once more had you all to herself. She could have cried, but she didn’t want to, deepening the kiss to distract herself from the complicated mess in her mind, your tongue meeting her own, your hand finding her jaw to guide the kiss. You barely had the willpower to part from her, your kisses moving down her neck to her chest, your mouth hungry for the sight you had been admiring all night long. Your lips found the curve of her breast, your walls throbbing from the sole thought of sucking on her nipples, Natasha’s eyes sliding shut, her hand massaging your head. You scooted lower on the couch, burrowing your face into her breasts, rapidly reawakening the desire that you felt for her. There was nothing you wanted more than her. You wanted to touch every part of her, lick and bite her skin, taste her, hear her, consume her. Your lips found her nipple, sucking on it harshly to elicit a gentle gasp from her.

It was rather evident that Natasha could not remain still, her limbs moving restlessly as you licked a wide strip over her breast, squeezing it with your hand. You were throbbing, ready for so much more. She moved onto her back to allow you better access to her other breast, your busy mouth kissing over to the other side to allow your tongue to circle her taut nipple. You flicked your tongue over it before sucking on it hard enough to make the shade of pink the most vibrant it could be. It reminded you of roses, of the most beautiful flowers imaginable and even then, those delicate petals would have paled in comparison to Natasha’s beauty. You opened your mouth wider, fitting more of her into your mouth, your teeth scraping over the sensitive skin, a heavy sigh leaving her. Your spit covered her chest, your mouth unafraid to drool all over her as you massaged her with your lips and tongue, lavishing her with attention.

Natasha was once more uncomfortably wet, her thighs squeezing together in anticipation as she thought about how good that mouth of yours would feel between her legs. She was beyond ready to just melt on your tongue. She felt butterflies invade her stomach when your kisses started to move south, going over her abdominal muscles, slowly, kiss by kiss, moving to her pelvis. Natasha’s heart was hammering in her chest before your mouth even reached her pubic bone, an overwhelming rush in her head from the love she felt for you. She wanted to tell you how much you meant to her. She wanted to hold you and kiss you and let you know that she had never loved anyone as much as she loved you, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t say a word, so she settled for tangling her hands in your hair as your mouth pressed over the most sensitive parts of her.

“Right there, detka (baby).” Your arms pulled her closer to you, hugging her in a way that could only be considered as greedy as your tongue lapped at her swollen clit, adamant to make her come again, to witness her whimper from your touch. You had such a drive to please her, a need to put her first, to give her whatever she might have needed because of how good she made you feel simply by existing. You wanted to impress her, you wanted her to like you, maybe even feel more than just affection toward you. The desire was so intense; pure infatuation that felt impossible to ignore. You laved your tongue against her, spurred on by Natasha’s quiet, weak moans that were the result of her trying to hold back just how good you made her feel, but as the pressure in her lower abdomen grew, her hips starting to buck into your mouth, she lost control. You could feel yourself get lost in the act of pleasing her, sinking into her warmth, into the softness of her delicate skin, needy for more. “Mmh, right there.” Her hands left your hair to avoid hurting you, moving to grip the cushions instead. She was beautiful, just the sight of her splayed out for you enough to make your heart jump. You loved everything about it. You loved her heady scent, the alluring shade of dark pink, the warmth she radiated. She was captivating, mesmerizing, alluring. She was irresistible in every sense of the word.

You pulsed your mouth against her, Natasha’s other hand flailing for something to grasp to control the pressure in her body, but in vain. Nothing was enough to make her overcome the pleasure that she experienced, the harder you sucked on her, the deeper she seemed to slip inside her own body. Her back arched off the couch, her legs hugging you closer as her left hand found your hair again, her grip tightening to be almost painful, the other squeezing the pillow beneath her head. She panted loudly, gasping for air, toes curling, muscles tensing. You sucked harder, longer, your hand finding its way below your chin, fingertips circling her entrance to give her an idea of what you had in mind.

“Yes!” You didn’t even have to ask for her opinion, the answer coming out in a low moan as she tugged on your hair impatiently. You slid your index finger effortlessly into her, the warm wetness of her sex enveloping you in its heat. You groaned quietly against her, the vibrations causing Natasha to bite her hand, her hips rocking into your face and fingers in search of more. She needed you to reach deeper, move faster.

“Is this good? Does it feel good?” You asked in a breathy whisper against her folds, gauging for what she enjoyed during sex.

“More”, she whined, rolling her hips into your hand a little harder. You brought your mouth back down to her clit, ensuring that her orgasm didn’t completely slip away from her as you slid another digit inside her to caress her slick walls. She let out a soft hum at the stretch, her hips immediately matching the pace you set for your fingers as you pumped them in and out of her, your mouth picking back up to rapid pulsing to make the best out of the experience. Natasha yelped at the stimulus, so incredibly close to her release that she could barely meet the movement of your hand anymore from how rigid her muscles were growing, the tension in her body begging for a release. You quickened the pace of your hand to give your jaw a slight break, but when she whined quietly at the loss of friction, your mouth was right back at it, going twice as hard just to please her.

“Oh, Y/N.” Her moans grew louder, unrestricted, accompanied by sharp gasps, her body trembling against you for a few more seconds before she could no longer hold herself back from the pleasure that made her lightheaded. And then you felt it, her walls clamping around your fingers abruptly, squeezing you tightly to keep you in place. She let out a small cry, her core tightening, body convulsing. It took her a long time to come down from her high, her body feeling spent, heavy, fully satisfied and content with your fingers still inside her as you kissed her folds, her inner thighs, and pelvis.

You barely got to catch your breath properly before her lips were on yours, kissing all the air out of your lungs, tasting herself on your lips. She might not have been able to tell you how much she loved you, but she could show you the raw desperation that bled through from every passionate kiss, every generous touch of her hand seeming to reflect her admiration toward you. She sat up on the couch, pulling you into her embrace to keep you close, her lips pecking yours a few times before deepening the connection. It was so easy to get lost in her, get lost in the sensuality of it all. Her hand traced circles around your pelvis, effectively making you shiver from anticipation, her fingers barely brushing over your pubic bone, your muscles contracting from how sensitive you were to even just a graze of her fingernails. Her hands moved to your buttocks in your knelt sitting position, rubbing over the smooth skin in circles, giving the flesh a proper squeeze as if warming you up for what was to come.

“What do you want, baby?” She crooned against your lips. She loved how bashful you had always been in bed. She loved that you were not usually inclined to voice out your desires, intending to tease you slightly, her touch turning lighter, tantalizing. You let out a small, disappointed sigh at the loss of proper contact.

“I want you to fuck me.” Your response came out with no shame, catching Natasha off guard, your seductive tone reaching right between her legs. Now, there was something new. “I want your tongue in my pussy”, you whispered almost imperceptibly, your fingertips caressing her jaw and neck, an alluring smile on your face, one that would’ve made Natasha kneel for you. “Is that alright with you?” The question was equally teasing, challenging Natasha’s dominant demeanor, a wide grin finding her lips.

“More than alright, just be careful what you ask for, dorogaya (darling).” Your laughter that followed was dismissing, but you couldn’t completely hide the effect that gently condescending tone had on you, your skin prickling with goosebumps. She moved out of your reach, yanking you to the edge of the couch by your legs in one swift move that made you squeal. The sound was followed by a giddy giggle as she manhandled you into position, throwing your legs over her shoulders. You sank right into her embrace, your head falling to the side, eyes staring at the golden Christmas lights you had put up when you had decorated the living room with Natasha, the statues and baubles disappearing into oblivion when Natasha’s mouth pressed over your sensitive skin, your eyes sliding shut on their own.

Chapter Text

You couldn’t tell how much time had passed, you and Natasha stuck in your own little world, lying on the couch as you processed the aftermath of all the pleasure and fun you had experienced. Natasha’s head rested over your bare lower abdomen, your upper back propped up against the armrest of the couch, hands in her messy, auburn hair. She lay completely still, arms hugging your lower half, eyes closed, breathing evenly. If you weren’t mistaken, she was on the verge of falling asleep, or perhaps she had already crossed over to the land of unconsciousness. Either way, you had no complaints. The pure silence was comforting in the warm glow of the Christmas lights, your mind wandering further the longer you played with Natasha’s hair, twirling the silky locks between your fingers. You felt happy. You really did, but there still was a certain ache inside you. You felt raw and torn open in a way you couldn’t quite explain. You felt intense comfort as you absorbed the atmosphere of the decorated living room around you. The air around you was serene, soothing. It felt as though time had frozen still as you held Natasha in your arms, processing the intensity of the emotion you felt in your chest. You felt a creeping sense of revelation at the back of your mind. Maybe the way you felt was what Christmas was all about. Maybe the feeling in your chest was why Natasha had found herself falling in love with Christmas despite initially finding it pointless.

Your eyes focused on a snow globe that sat on the coffee table, the little, red-nosed reindeer inside it looking majestic and proud. You knew the story of Rudolph, recalling how you had believed that reindeers could actually fly when you were in elementary school. You smiled at the memory, a wave of nostalgia curving the corners of your lips upward. You admired the light reflecting from the tinsel that decorated the TV stand before moving your eyes toward the windows, the lone angel statue that you and Natasha had used as a microphone looking your way, holding an open book in her hands, her white dress and golden wings capturing your attention for a moment. You recalled the memory of that joyous moment, the lyrics of the song you had duetted flashing through your mind. Your smile only widened. You would’ve continued to admire the angel, but the thought of Natasha made it impossible for you to ignore the weight of her head over your pelvis. You looked down at her sleeping form, your hand brushing back her thick, fluffy hair that was the most gorgeous shade of natural red you had ever seen. You uncovered the side of her face that was visible to you, admiring the blush that remained on her skin, her lower half covered up by a blanket to keep her warm. Her long lashes fluttered slightly against her rosy cheek, her features relaxed, lips slightly pursed in her position with her cheek squished against your belly.

She looked beautiful, her mere presence bringing a giddiness into your abdomen that you could never shake off around her, sometimes not even away from her. She made you want to be a part of the holiday traditions. She made you crave the comfort and love that surrounded Christmas. She made you want to participate, made you want to feel alive. She made you want to care about the silly decorations and the twinkly lights. She had coaxed you into taking part in traditions like mistletoe kisses and buying Christmas decorations. She had gotten you into baking, skating, and Christmas shopping. She had introduced you to a whole new world of aesthetics and emotions that had always been in your reach but you had always actively ignored. She had opened your eyes to the joy of letting go of your old habits and narrow mind to find something new and exciting, something unexpected, something good.

You mussed up Natasha’s hair with your hands, scraping your nails over her scalp as you gently pulled her closer to you, the weight of her body feeling immensely relaxing. You felt rather grounded to the moment in a way that made you fight back the weight of your eyelids. You wanted to savor the moment for as long as possible. You wanted to have the feeling of the weight and shape of Natasha’s body pressed up against your own forever ingrained into your memory, but you could already feel your mind sink into unconsciousness the longer you listened to Natasha’s even breathing in the warm glow of Christmas lights.

You might have dozed off eventually, but you only became aware of it when you heard a thud at the front door as if something heavy had been set down on the porch. The sound was followed by the jingle of keys rattling against the lock. Wanda was coming home. You nearly jumped up from the couch, jostling Natasha in the process as you shook her awake. As comfortable as you were with Wanda, you were not comfortable enough to allow her to witness you ass bare with a naked woman on top of you, both of you fucked out of your minds on a couch that Wanda and you shared daily.

“Come on, baby, up, up, up. Wanda’s home”, you hissed in a rushed whisper, prompting Natasha to collect her belongings from the floor. You saw the way she rubbed her groggy eyes with her fist, the adorable look on her face bringing a grin to your lips. She didn’t say anything, swiftly scooping up her dress, underwear, tights and her purse from the floor. You did the same, making sure Wanda was not going to find any soaked underwear hanging around in the living room before running up the stairs after Natasha just as the front door opened. You hurried into your room where Natasha had automatically headed, your gazes meeting, wild grins on your lips before quiet snickering filled your room.

“That was a close one”, Natasha mumbled, sinking to the edge of your bed, clearly groggy, longing to sink into the sheets.

“Yeah”, you chuckled as you moved to your closet to pull out towels for the both of you. Natasha plopped down onto her back on the bed, giving you a pleading look, but you dragged her into the shower anyway to get you both ready for the night.

You scrubbed Natasha clean with soap, allowing the warm water to ebb away the tension left in her muscles before wrapping her in a towel and sending her into your room with a kiss on the lips. She returned soon after, her towel still wrapped around her, her backside leaning against the bathroom sink, hand lazily moving a toothbrush in her mouth. You smiled fondly as you exited the shower, unable to resist coming to her side, your hand rising up to the back of her head to scratch her affectionately.

“Where’d you find a toothbrush?” You smirked at the way she tilted her head back to avoid getting toothpaste foam all over her chin.

“Purse. I had a feeling I might end up here”, she mumbled around the foam before bringing the brush back into her mouth to finish scrubbing the top row of her teeth. You couldn’t help but to grin. She had come prepared, she had expected to spend the night with you. With a whole new heat rushing to your cheeks, you grabbed your own toothbrush and joined her. It took you a little longer to finish up your nighttime routine, prompting Natasha to go back into your room. You could both hear Wanda moving about downstairs, so it was simply safer to avoid her altogether.

By the time you returned into your bedroom, Natasha was already in your sheets, trying her best not to fall asleep before you were in bed beside her, her heavy eyelids rolling down and back up ever so often. The duvet was pulled up to her ribs, her bare breasts donning a few dark red marks that you had sucked on her skin. You grinned a ridiculously wide grin at the sight, discarding your towel at the back of your desk chair before crawling beside her naked body. Natasha moved immediately, squirming a little, ready to nuzzle right into you if you’d only give her the chance. Your smile would’ve widened if it could have, but unfortunately your facial muscles could not stretch your lips any further. You turned to your bedside lamp, switching it off before wiggling under the covers. You felt Natasha’s hand on your body in the dark, her cold touch brushing over your stomach to find your side. She pulled you closer, scooting herself into your embrace with a few very adorable wiggles that made your body alert from excitement. You weren’t all that sure you could sleep a wink that night if your thrilled mind couldn’t slow down alongside your heated body. You were worn down and sleepy, yet you just simply couldn’t handle the excitement that Natasha brought you as her face pressed into your bare chest.

“Good night, baby”, you mumbled into her dry hair that remained in the messy bun she had tied her hair into to spare it from the spray of the shower. She mumbled her response into your warm chest, nuzzling closer, letting out an unintelligible grumble as she got comfortably settled in your embrace, purring at the way you began to stroke her back and arm. You arched into her, Natasha returning the movement with an adjustment of her body, both of you burrowing closer, simply feeling your bodies pressed up against one another. Your heart was beating out of rhythm in your chest, unable to ignore every little detail of her that you picked up on. The smell of her skin, the warm scent of your body wash blending in with her haircare products, bringing you the kind of elation that was hard to describe. You breathed her in, unable to get over her delicious scent. Her body felt warm and so alive beside you, any movement from her reminding you just how much you enjoyed her presence and enjoyed the intimacy between you. It felt ridiculous even to you, but you couldn’t help it when your mind was flooded with the very recent memories of some of the best sex you had ever had in your life.

The sole thought of it made your insides flutter weakly as if tired of being so active but unable to remain unaffected by the intensity of your emotions. You almost couldn’t process how everything you had done together, everything you had felt together. It felt like the beginning of something new, something exciting. Your dynamic, your entire relationship, was something unexpected, which made it all the more thrilling. Natasha moved in your embrace, her leg sliding between your own as if wishing to get even more tangled into your limbs. You smiled into the darkness of your room, allowing your hand to stroke her back a little lower beneath the duvet, your fingertips traveling down to the dimples on her lower back. Your smile only widened when you remembered the noises she had pulled out of you just with her mouth at the apex of your thighs, the heat in your body rising to your cheeks as you buried your face into Natasha’s hair, kissing her head. She reacted to it by hugging you tighter around your waist.

You felt like you could never relax enough to fall asleep whereas Natasha was fighting to stay awake. The juxtaposition was quite amusing, but it was also reflective of the difference between fresh infatuation and content love. Natasha knew you. She knew large parts of who you were. She knew your body, she knew your soul, she knew your personality despite any discrepancies between the old you and the new you. She felt safe around you, she could fully trust you, and she was finally back in your embrace, back in that feeling of safety that you had always brought her. No matter how hard she tried not to recall her old life and her old relationship with you, it was impossible not to compare you to who she had once known. She managed to compare every single aspect of you to a variant that no longer existed. It was both a blessing and a curse to find attributes that matched her previous perception of you. It was comforting, but it was also unnerving because she was stuck between worlds. She could not hold you up to the expectations that she had for you because it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t your job to be who Natasha was looking for. It wasn’t your job to fulfill her needs which she often got confused about because it was hard to remember that you weren’t the same person she fell in love with over a decade ago, especially as the gap between you and her was narrowing down to nothingness.

She felt the same way she always had when she had fallen asleep in your arms after a long night of loving each other in every way you knew how. It felt the same, yet it wasn’t, but Natasha couldn’t fight the intrinsic need to be held and cared for. She couldn’t pretend that her aching heart didn’t want your love and attention. It was impossible to refuse the warmth and softness of your body, the peace and relaxation that your proximity brought her. It was impossible to deny herself any kind of human connection after losing you and going through an emotional pain so visceral that she could compare it to open wounds from the battlefields she had paved through. She was far too weak to stand up on her own. She needed you. She craved you.

You fell asleep a few dozen minutes after her, your mind eventually calmed down enough to recognize the tranquility of the moment, your heavy eyelids sliding shut without you even really noticing to flutter open on Christmas morning to the sunlight that beamed through your window. You had forgotten to shut the curtains the night before, the gentle, white glow disturbing your sleep. You burrowed your face into Natasha’s breast to hide from the offense, your hand that was squeezing her breast like she was your trusty, little pillow, rubbing over her chest. You let out a small moan, Natasha’s hand finding your back to stroke. Her skin was wonderfully warm against your face, your entire body feeling so perfectly hot all around that you could only nuzzle closer to Natasha, your eyes remaining closed to savor any remnants of sleep.

“Good morning, detka (baby).” Her voice was low and raspy, enough to make you pull away to see her face. You lifted your head off her chest, her hand immediately finding the back of your head to let her fingers sink into your hair. You had a shy smile on your lips as you took in her sleepy eyes and groggy expression. She looked downright adorable, so irresistibly soft that you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from grinning.

“Good morning, love.” You wanted to cringe at the way you sounded but when you saw the look on Natasha’s face and the way her gaze dipped down to your lips, you suddenly felt a little less self-conscious for your hoarse voice. From what you could tell, it seemed to be welcomed with enthusiasm. She tucked some of your hair behind your ear with her free hand, her fingers gliding down your jaw as she admired your features. You felt your cheeks heat up from the intensity of her gaze, the hand in your hair rubbing down your spine simply to feel more of you.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Like a rock.” You let out a quiet chuckle.

“Any dreams?” She stroked your cheek with her thumb, not quite able to tear her eyes off you.

“No, I was completely wiped out.”

“Me too”, she hummed in a pleased tone, her hands moving to stroke your arms, prompting you to lie back down on her chest.

“Good”, you mumbled against her bare chest, kissing the curve of her breast as her arms tightened around you. She heard and felt you let out a long sigh. The room was silent for a while, sounds from downstairs carrying to your ears. You could tell Wanda was in the kitchen already, preparing food for her small Christmas party. You could smell something baking in the oven, but you couldn’t quite tell what it was, your focus shifting back to Natasha’s body as she carefully shifted beneath you, moving you to lie on top of her so that she could fully feel your weight on her and gain better access to your backside.

“Last night was…” You began quietly after a moment longer of the silence, Natasha’s hands stroking down your back to smooth over your round glutes, effectively reminding you of how good she had made you feel less than twelve hours ago.

“Oh, it was.” Natasha chuckled softly, her chest rumbling against your cheek. “Fuck”, she sighed quietly, shaking her head in disbelief. “It was amazing.”

“I’m not sure I can look you in the eye anymore”, you said jokingly, laughing at the little huff she let out.

“That can’t be. Then how will I get lost into your dreamy eyes?” You giggled at her sappy flirting.

“Shut up.”

“Make me”, she hummed a little smugly, guiding your head up by the chin so she could see your face. You held her gaze defiantly despite the heat that rose to your cheeks, despite the butterflies that tickled your insides, despite the weakness that you felt in your chest. “There they are.” She observed you slowly, carefully, allowing you to become increasingly aware of the way your breasts were pressed up against her bare skin. You wanted to look down at her rosy nipples, her blooming love marks, but you couldn’t give in so easily. Your eyes held her green ones, their depth making your heart stutter, your facial features threatening to lose their composure, but you fought back. You felt her fingers trace teasing circles into your lower back, goosebumps erupting over your skin. You felt the need to bite your lip as the heat on your cheeks grew nearly radiant, Natasha’s smirk widening slightly. The look on her face was so perfectly teasing yet alluring at the same time that you couldn’t help the way your lips pursed to hide your smile as you tucked your face into your shoulder in an attempt to hide your excitement and the giggle that threatened to tumble from your lips. You heard the huff of laughter that Natasha let out, her hands stroking up your back. “Cat got your tongue? I thought that I was supposed to shut up.”

“I’m… just thinking.” You could barely say it without giggling like an absolute fool.

“About?” Her hand came up to your face, trailing down your neck to your chest, smoothing over the irresistibly soft skin.

“Last night”, you mumbled a bit sheepishly, Natasha’s smirk widening into a grin.

“You want another round?” You let out a loud squeal when she rolled you into the sheets, her body covering your own as her mouth found your neck. You laughed loudly, your face full of her auburn hair that had come loose from the bun during the night. You arched up into her body just to feel it better, your arms hugging her close. Oh, you wanted ten more rounds, but you were starving and hoping to freshen up before Natasha’s lips would quite reach your own.

“The elves are watching”, you moaned when her teeth scraped over the skin of your neck, Natasha muffling her laughter into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. It made shivers run down your spine in the most pleasant way. She pulled back to see your grin, your gazes moving automatically to an elf decoration that Natasha had put on your nightstand days ago to “keep watch” just to tease you.

“Screw the elves.” She shook her head in amusement, reaching over to the side of the bed to turn the elf decoration around before burrowing her head right back into your neck as you laughed.

“Now, I’d rather not share”, you said in audible amusement, Natasha’s sweet laughter tickling your ear.

“Good. Me neither.” All you could do was let out a long sigh as you sank further into the bed, her kisses feeling undeniably good so early in the morning.

Nearly an hour later you and Natasha felt ready enough to get out of bed and go downstairs, lured in by the scent of gingerbread. The stereos were on, lively Christmas music playing in the background as Wanda bounced back and forth in the kitchen, going from one pot to another in the haste of cooking and baking for her party. She was wearing a morning robe, the scarlet, fluffy piece of clothing hanging loosely on her shoulders, her hair up in a bun at the back of her head, a few tendrils of hair that couldn’t quite reach the bun covering her neck. Under her robe she had her favorite Christmas pajamas that she always wore in December. The sight brought a smile to your face as you and Natasha descended down the final few steps. You tried your best to school your features as you entered the kitchen, but it took Wanda less than a fraction of a second for her gaze to drop down to you and Natasha’s joint hands. Wanda acquired a slightly amused smile onto her face.

“Good morning”, she hummed knowingly, failing to miss the giddy grin that found your face as you looked away toward the dining room table as if to inspect Wanda’s creations when in reality you were far too giddy about Natasha to even look Wanda in the eye. Your roommate and best friend had a truckload of giddy girl talk coming her way.

“Morning”, Natasha replied, moving to the sink to get herself some water as you lagged behind.

“How’d you sleep?” Wanda asked out of politeness, despite feeling like there was a huge chance that you and Natasha had spent the night doing something entirely different.

“Good.” You and Natasha spoke at the same time, glancing at each other in excitement.

“That’s great.” Wanda smiled to herself, moving to mix something in a pot on the stove before backing away from it to open the hatch of the oven. “I’m sorry about the mess. There’s room at the far end of the dinner table, just move the trays to the side a bit.” She pulled out another tray of gingerbread from the oven alongside a waft of steam and a delicious scent to go with it. “There are some croissants in the paper bag if you want any for breakfast.”

“Oh, that’s perfect. Thank you. We can eat in the living room so we’re not in the way.” You moved to the coffee maker to prepare it and turn it on before spinning around to see Natasha, an involuntary grin finding your face. She took a few steps closer to you, allowing you to grasp her hand to pull her closer. “Is there anything else you want for breakfast?” Natasha licked her lips, her eyes dipping down to the lace hem of your top that decorated your cleavage, your shoulders covered by a light pink robe, similarly to Wanda’s get up.

“There’s also rice pudding”, Wanda informed, shaking her head in utter bewilderment over how sappy you and Natasha were. You two had spent a total of sixty seconds in her kitchen and she had already witnessed giddy grins, lingering touches, and wandering hands and eyes. Natasha admittedly struggled to remove her gaze from your breasts after realizing that if she looked at the lace closely enough, she could see one of the love marks she had left behind peek through the intricate pattern of the fabric.

“I’d love some.” Natasha said it quietly, a dreamy smile on her lips as she finally managed to find your eyes again.

Wanda wasn’t sure she had ever witnessed such infatuation between two people. She would have gone as far as speculating the emotion that she had seen to be something even more intense. She had never seen you in love, but if she would have had to guess, she would said she was staring right into love’s delicate face. You were practically vibrating in a rather pure, almost childish way from how elated you were. Wanda could recall very few times she had encountered such a version of you. It was rather amusing, but also endearing to watch you make sure Natasha had her respective bowl of steaming rice pudding topped with sugar and cinnamon before you moved on to preparing your own serving. You ushered Natasha to the couch to find something to watch from the TV as you brought her coffee, her croissant, and chocolates to snack on. A part of it was your innate generosity and hospitality, but never had Wanda seen you do all of that with such an overwhelming pair of heart eyes on you. You were truly smitten, smitten in a way Wanda hadn’t expected from you. You had always been the colder of the two. You had been more cool headed and reasonable. Most of the time you hadn’t had the energy or faith to even believe in such a thing as love, yet there you were now, cuddled next to your woman eating breakfast on Christmas morning. Wanda rolled her eyes at the bruise that peeked from beneath your top, yet she couldn’t deny the joy it brought to her to know that you were happy, and you were in love.

Wanda didn’t know Natasha well, but it was rather obvious that the feeling was reciprocated maybe even doubly on her part. It didn’t take a detective or a spy to figure out that Natasha was right there with you in all those sappy feelings that filled the entire living room and most likely billowed out the windows and doors all the way to the streets of Manhattan. It was so obvious in the way Natasha looked at you, in the way she barely had the patience to refrain from fiddling with your clothes or your hand and actually eat her rice pudding. Wanda averted her gaze from the intimate movement to give you two your space, her attention shifting to her baking, but her mind remained on Natasha. Wanda had been feeling rather wary about Natasha’s presence and the feeling had only grown more intense after learning the truth about how exactly she had ended up in your life. Wanda was concerned and she had a good reason to be. Anyone with the ability to transcend the multiverse came with great power, although Wanda had to admit that she had a feeling it wasn’t Natasha who had said power, but someone else, someone who Wanda knew better than she perhaps realized.

There had been a dream. Wanda sometimes had those, most times, if she was honest. But this dream was a special kind. It wasn’t uncommon for Wanda to see elaborate dreams that were sometimes downright premonitions or other carefully and intricately constructed visions or messages. She often had conversations with people either from her past or from her future, and sometimes she even had conversations with herself. The specific dream that was on Wanda’s mind had happened months ago. She had already discussed it with you many times to make sense of it, but as she glanced back at Natasha and you on the couch again, she felt as though the dream was only then fully opening up to her, another piece clicking into place to help her understand her mysterious mind.

“Wanda, is that a Christmas tree?” You asked in utter shock when you had finally looked away from Natasha for longer than five seconds to realize that there was a very real spruce leaning against the wall at the entrance of the house, green and plump, bare from any decorations. Your slightly raised voice pulled Wanda out of her thoughts.

“Oh, yes! I was gonna ask you to help me decorate it.” She walked out of the kitchen to see you and Natasha, looking for your reaction to the suggestion. “Would you like to?”

“Absolutely.” You nodded your head immediately, Natasha’s eyes softening rather visibly to your enthusiasm toward anything Christmas related. “We’ve never had a real one before.”

“Yeah, I thought we were adult enough for a real one this year”, Wanda joked.

“So long, Grinch”, Natasha whispered to herself, biting her lip to hide her giddy smile. That tender look on her face lingered there as you nearly scarfed down your breakfast, pumped full of holiday cheer that had seemingly been missing for the entirety of December until that very moment. It was like you had woken up as a different person.

“I’ll help you set it up on the stand”, Wanda explained after your food had been finished as she came over with a metal stand meant for the spruce to keep it upright. “I also brought some decorations for it. They were on sale.” Wanda pointed toward two large shopping bags in the same spot that the tree had been sitting in.

“Did you find any good ones?” You asked in excitement, fetching the bags as Natasha and Wanda held up the tree at the far corner of the living room which was the only fitting spot for the tree that took up a surprising amount of room. You had had to move aside an armchair that usually sat there to ensure that the tree had a good amount of space around

it, so that it wouldn’t look crowded in its spot.

“I got lights, a few bauble sets, and some individual ornaments I liked.” Wanda crouched to the floor. “Can you hold it up for a second?” The question was directed at Natasha, who, lucky for Wanda, was fully capable of lifting up the spruce so that Wanda could slide the stand beneath the tree and ensure that the stump was snugly in the hole to avoid any accidents.

With Wanda and Natasha’s help, you unwrapped the lights that mimicked candles and wrapped them around the Christmas tree, followed by the new bauble sets that you got to unwrap shortly after. Wanda took care of her own ornaments that she had specifically picked out to cater to her style and liking while you and Natasha focused on evenly distributing the festive baubles all over the spruce. It was impossible not to take notice of the beautiful atmosphere created in the living room, your nose filled with the scent of gingerbread, the entire living room glinting with lights, decorated with gold, silver, tinsel, and red, while Christmas music played quietly in the background. You couldn’t explain the feeling that found your chest once more as you stared at the golden ball that you had just hung up on the branches, the delicate bauble bouncing slightly before settling into its place on the spruce. You admired the glitter leaves that decorated the shiny golden surface that reflected your face like a distorted mirror. You felt the kind of longing which you had never quite experienced before. It was a deep sense of gratitude, a deep, unyielding relief mixed with safety and comfort; a feeling that was very similar to the one from the previous night on the couch, but infinitely stronger.

“You alright?” Natasha murmured into your ear as she passed by you, her hand stroking your lower back affectionately after noticing you stare at the bauble just a little bit too long.

“Yes.” You could barely breathe out the word as you slowly pulled away from the mesmerizing bauble and went to the coffee table to pick up another one. Natasha’s hand came up to your forearm to slow you down, her eyes finding your own to inspect you, although the look on her face was rather inquiring instead of scrutinizing. Those green eyes roamed over your face for a moment until you smiled, the hand on your forearm moving slightly, her thumb stroking over the robe you wore. She returned the smile before leaning in, her lips pressing down on your own in a sweet kiss before she let you get back to work. The smile that you had given her stayed in its rightful place long after the kiss as bauble by bauble the tree filled up to slowly start to resemble a typical Christmas tree.

“It’s missing something”, Natasha hummed once you had all run out of decorations, standing in a row in front of the gallant tree, admiring it in all its glory.

“Oh, a star!” You turned to Wanda immediately. “Do we have a star?”

“Ah, yes!” She almost squealed in excitement. “I’ve got one that my grandma gifted me years ago before she passed. I never had a use for it. It was always too big for the fake trees, but… Let me go find it.” Wanda exited the room in an instant, nearly running upstairs.

“That’s not what I had in mind”, Natasha hummed, prompting you to turn to look at her with a frown of confusion on your face.

“No?”

“You’re missing a bauble”, she hummed with a knowing smirk on her lips as a look of understanding crossed your features. You didn’t say anything, a sheepish smile finding your lips when you recalled the ornament you had bought from the winter village, that memory followed by the excuse you had used to justify your purchase. She had known that you wouldn’t carry through with gifting Wanda the ornament, the look on Natasha’s face telling enough, but you didn’t bother to bicker about something so trivial, admitting to your stubbornness and giving up.

“I’ll go get it.”

The bauble was in your room, hanging from the knob of your closet door because it was the only place in your room where you could hang something. It sat there innocently, the red glass looking as beautiful as ever when you went to pick it up and take it downstairs. You lifted it up for Natasha to see as you made your way to her, smiling gently, both of you recalling the lovely day you had spent together at the winter village and then everything that had followed it, giving you a wonderful opportunity to reflect on all the ways in which you and Natasha had deepened your bond to one another. It was almost impossible for you to comprehend that in just a few weeks she had become such a beacon of light in your life. She had become someone meaningful without even trying, and somehow, the decoration seemed rather reflective of that. The bauble didn’t have to try to make light reflect the color of the glass in the most stunning way whenever a direct source of light reached it, it simply glowed on its own whenever light was near. You glanced at Natasha, feeling rather significant in the moment.

“Where should we hang it?” You both moved closer to the spruce, Natasha’s eyes scanning for a relatively vacant spot for the ornament.

“Somewhere at the top of the tree”, you suggested, moving your hand higher to see if there were any strong branches left that could support the weight of the glass.

“Here.” Natasha touched one of the stronger branches that pointed toward the ceiling at the top, gently testing its durability by pulling it down to see if it was strong and thick enough. You brought the bauble closer.

“I wanna do it together”, you said a bit shyly, perhaps slightly embarrassed for being so sappy, never mind the fact that it was because of Christmas, but Natasha simply smiled, leaning closer to press a kiss on your temple before lifting her hand up to join your own. You both placed the thin string of the bauble over the prickly branch of the Christmas tree, watching the sprig bend slightly but still remain upright. You grinned at the sight, taking a step back to be able to properly admire it before turning it Natasha. Your hands came up to cup her cheeks, tugging her right into a kiss so that you could somehow convey the feeling that was inside you. Her hands found your waist, caressing your body as her tongue glided over the seam of your lips to deepen the kiss. You parted your lips for her, allowing her access to your tongue. It made you feel weak, your heart stuttering in your chest, your body longing to be in her embrace. Her mouth was just as warm as it had been the night before, in bed the next morning, her velvety tongue coaxing out an insatiable need for her despite how gentle and slow the kisses were. You pecked her lips a few more times before pulling away just enough to be able to look her in the eyes, your thumbs stroking her smooth cheeks that were tinted with a blush.

“Merry Christmas”, you said in a gentle whisper that felt rather coy, but it made Natasha grin, nonetheless.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” She leaned in to kiss you again, the kiss firm and deep. She then pulled you into her embrace, hugging you simply to hold you, her hand cupping the back of your head to keep your face tucked into her neck. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes to fully enjoy every second of her touch as Natasha did the same, her soul screaming from the confusing juxtaposition of emotions that she struggled to make sense of. She loved you, she loved you so much, but she couldn’t stop thinking about why she couldn’t tell you that. She had everything that she wanted. She had you in her embrace, but it wouldn’t make the worries and anxieties she had go away. She was afraid of losing you, afraid of her own past, your past, and your future. Timelines and realities were getting blurry, her perception of both getting jumbled up in her memory. She was stuck, unsure of how to let go of her previous life to ensure safety and contentment in her new one. You gave her waist a tight squeeze as you hummed in satisfaction at the bliss you felt from her touch, the simple act dispelling Natasha’s momentary worries, prompting her to push aside her problems even just for that single day to be able to savor every last drop of the love she felt for you.

You pulled away from the hug when you heard Wanda walk down the stairs, both of you turning around to find out if she had found what she had been looking for. She held a beautiful star in her hands, the glittering, golden decoration made out of thin bars of metal to represent the beams of light coming from the star. The glitter-covered points overlapped, some longer, some shorter, to form a gorgeous star. It was flat and see-through in some parts, reminding you of a snowflake. You allowed Wanda to tie the star to the very tip of the tree, giving her some helpful guidance to make sure it wasn’t crooked, and just like that, Christmas had come.

“Merry Christmas”, Wanda hummed, giving you and Natasha a warm smile. She admired the tree for a moment longer before an alarm from the kitchen already demanded her attention. You lingered by the tree, allowing your fingers to caress your red bauble, your wandering gaze moving down to the rug that had been put beneath the tree to collect any needles that would fall off the sprigs.

“I have a gift for you”, you said quietly, your gaze moving away from the empty space beneath the tree. Natasha raised her brows at your words.

“So do I.” The look on her face told you that she had not expected you to get her anything, your own expression reflecting a similar reaction to her words.

“We should probably exchange gifts then”, you hummed with a small, giddy smirk on your lips.

You both got situated on the couch with your gifts, the Christmas tree shining brightly behind Natasha, giving her a wonderful opportunity to admire the way the gentle glow of the lights was reflected on your skin, your hair, your eyes. Natasha discarded a candy wrapper in her hands onto the table, focusing fully on your little gift exchange. You were humming along to White Christmas, your voice blending beautifully into the melody, accompanying it precisely.

“You go first, love”, you said suddenly, placing the gift onto Natasha’s lap. It was a small package wrapped up in Christmas paper that you had gotten from Wanda. “It’s nothing big but I just felt like I had to buy it for you.” Natasha smiled softly at you, her fingertips stroking the paper as if impatient to unwrap the gift. She gave you one more glance before slowly starting to peel the tape open from the sides to unravel the paper around the bubble-wrapped object inside. You observed her reaction carefully, anticipation invading your stomach as she discarded the wrinkled paper to the table, focusing on the bubble wrap next. She made sure to not rip the material, mindful of the fact that it was clear the contents were fragile. She gave you an excited, little smile before pulling the wrapping to the side to reveal a Christmas ornament inside. Natasha’s eyes widened in shock, her lips parting in a silent gasp at the sight, her hands gently cupping the piece of ceramic.

“I saw you looking at it at the market. I went back the other day to buy it.” Natasha’s silence was charged with emotion, her features softening at the angel she held in her hands. It was incredibly detailed, a young girl sitting in a pose with her knees tucked to her chest, arms hugging her bent legs, her gorgeous, feathered wings curved around her to protect her. Natasha could feel her hands tremble as she held the piece in her hands, her lower lip quivering slightly. She had to look away. She had once owned said statue. She had once cherished it dearly. She had once before received it from you. Natasha found it rather ironic how the alternate realities worked, how you could still gravitate toward the same things in both realities despite any discrepancies.

“Thank you.” Her voice was nothing but a frail whisper. “It’s beautiful.” She lifted her gaze up to meet your eyes, her smile almost hauntingly sorrowful. “I love it.” She brought the angel to her chest as if to hug it, holding it close as she leaned in to give you a kiss. You nearly teared up yourself despite not really knowing why. You felt so charged with emotion that even a speck of it on Natasha’s face was bound to cause a reaction in you.

“It just felt like you.” Natasha’s hand cupped your face, admiring your sheepish smile, the angel remaining in her hold even when you moved on to unwrapping your own gift. You had no clue what the package held inside, unsure of what kind of a gift giver Natasha was. It was exciting to see how she perceived you and what she thought of you when it came to gifts.

“I didn’t get you anything crazy”, Natasha chuckled quietly, hoping that you were going to appreciate her gift. It was a medium-sized box with a bow on top. You pulled apart the red ribbon with a simple tug, the slick fabric untying itself almost on its own. You pulled off the lid of the box, taking a peek inside to see what she had gotten you. The first thing your eyes landed on was a Christmas themed gingerbread mug that was undeniably adorable, the inside of the cup filled with candy canes. Beside the mug was a scented candle that smelled like cinnamon and clove, a pair of fluffy socks decorated with a pattern similar to a typical Christmas sweater, the inside lined with fur, and a small bottle of perfume. All the items were lying on top of dark red satin, prompting you to unload the contents of the box onto the couch to see what was at the bottom. You gave Natasha a look of utter shock from the thoughtfulness of the gift as you lifted up the satin to spread it open in front of you to get a better look at it.

“Oh”, you buried your face into the fabric to hide your reaction to the luxurious, satin sleep gown and its lace hemming. It was short, barely enough to fully cover your backside, and it had thin shoulder straps. It was rather sultry, but you were not one to complain.

“I thought you could use a Christmas starter set”, she chuckled. “Now that your career as the Grinch is over.”

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” You asked teasingly, Natasha merely laughing.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you finally saw the light”, she retorted, shrugging her shoulders. It made you giggle, your smile only widening.

“I love it all.” You admired all the individual gifts, eyeing the Christmas themed items before your gaze returned to the sleepwear again. “This is so beautiful.” You allowed yourself to really feel the material as you fingered it gently, already able to imagine just how easily Natasha would slip that piece of fabric off you and place wet kisses down your bare chest. “Thank you”, you whispered, packing the items back into the box to avoid making a mess before your lips were once more on Natasha’s, expressing every ounce of gratitude you felt toward her.

Chapter Text

You spent a good amount of time on the couch, watching any Christmas movies that you found on TV while surfing through the channels, indulging yourselves on an entire bowl of chocolate truffles to ensure you didn’t go hungry while sipping on refills of coffee. You were cuddled up in the corner of the couch in the same spot as the night before, Natasha’s head on your chest, cushioned by your breasts, your hand in her hair, a blanket covering your tangled up legs. You couldn’t have asked for anything better. You couldn’t have dreamt of anything more fulfilling and comforting than that very moment as her warmth seeped into your body and stirred up the colorful emotions inside you. There was nowhere else you would have rather been, no one else you would have rather been with. Every single aspect of that shared moment was perfect, undeniably beautiful.

You had lit up the candle you had received as a gift and put it on the coffee table, the bright yellow light flickering gently, the scent of cinnamon and clove only strengthening the smell of gingerbread that wafted through the entire house, mixing with the perfume you had immediately tried onto the inside of your wrist. The smell was sweet, slightly spicy in a way that you recognized to be typical for Natasha. She liked earthy, rich scents with a hint of sweetness, something that you hadn’t realized would suit you so well. You were wearing the thick socks Natasha had gifted you, warm beneath her and the blanket, sucking on a candy cane. The low lighting of the living room was delicate and cozy, the Christmas tree shining silently in the corner, your attention seeming to gravitate toward it every once in a while, as if to make sure that the tree was still in its rightful spot before returning to the cartoon Grinch you were watching, the colorful images flashing before you on the TV. Natasha was humming quietly to the well-known song in the movie, your arms automatically tightening around her to hold the adorable sight just a little closer to your chest. She was undeniably charming without even trying, the low humming warranting a kiss onto the top of her head. She pulled back from your chest to see your face, smiling at you in the most intimate and vulnerable way you had ever seen anyone smile. She crawled just a little higher on top of you, her lips only barely reaching your chin to give it an affectionate peck. After that you couldn’t help but to lift your head off the pillow to reach her properly, your hand that was in her curls guiding her into a firm kiss that made you feel like you couldn’t quite breathe properly.

When the morning turned into afternoon, you finally got up from the couch, deciding to help Wanda with the party preparations after she ushered you off the couch and made you tidy up the living room from the dishes, candy and gift wrappers. You and Natasha moved into the kitchen to clean and help Wanda with anything you could while she ran around the house following some schedule that you and Natasha were not a part of. It was rather amusing to watch Wanda fuss over the smallest of details in the strive for perfection despite the fact that all the people who were coming over were friends and family who expected quite positively nothing extravagant from Wanda. All they wanted was to spend time with their loved ones during the holidays, but Wanda was known for overshooting when it came to showing off her cooking and baking skills as well as hospitality. She loved to be the backbone of any get-together. She liked preparing food and trying out new recipes that she could potentially incorporate into her business. She also happened to strive off of people’s comments and praise regarding all her hard work. A good few hours later of you helping Wanda, it was finally time to go get ready for the party before the guests would arrive.

“What do you think I should wear?” You turned to Natasha expectantly after pulling open the doors to your wardrobe.

“Hmm, maybe something casual?” She suggested, taking a seat on the edge of your freshly made bed, going through her small purse that somehow fit way more items than you would’ve ever believed. You skimmed through the clothes in your closet, looking for something fancy, but nothing over the top. “You could put on a cute sweater and some nice trousers.” You grinned brightly at the suggestion as you laid your eyes on an item that fit the description at least partly. You pulled the sweater on without further consideration, leaving your plain pajama pants on.

“I’ve got just the thing”, you announced in excitement, amusement practically dripping from your voice, prompting Natasha to raise her eyes from the contents of her bag to see your clothing of choice. She burst into laughter at the sight of the familiar sweater, her gaze immediately dipping down to the mistletoe dangling above your belt line. The look on your face was one filled with pure joy as Natasha stood up from the bed to come closer to you, clearly lured in by the message on the sweater. She could barely hold in her chuckles as she stood before you, pulling on the hem of the sweater to take a proper look at the horribly ugly Christmas sweater.

“Oh, but I can’t have anyone else end up beneath this mistletoe. This one is just for me”, she hummed as if to herself, her eyes meeting yours.

“You’re under the mistletoe”, you whispered knowingly, your smirk wider than the Grinch’s.

“I am, indeed.” Her eyes remained on yours as she let go of the sweater, her hands finding your waist. She knelt slowly before you, her touch moving down to massage your hips and buttocks in a gentle caress. You could barely hold in your excitement, her sultry eyes staring up at you, her lower lip clamped between her teeth as she leaned forward, pressing her lips right below the mistletoe, a very visceral spark of electricity shooting through you at the gentle touch of her lips even through two layers of fabric, your knees turning into jelly from the simple kiss.

“I might just have to go with this one”, you breathed out weakly. It was rather easy to tell that you were ridiculously affected by Natasha’s touch, your body seeming to lean closer to her in search for more.

“If you keep this on, we’ll never make it downstairs”, she retorted in a gentle warning that made you giggle.

“Better take it off then. This thing is dangerous”, you mumbled in amusement, pulling the knitted fabric up your torso as Natasha stood up from the floor.

“I don’t think it’s the sweater, detka (baby)”, she mused quietly. “It’s you that’s dangerous.” She allowed her nails to scrape over your bare abdomen, your muscles contracting at the teasing touch, a small gasp sounding from you, prompting Natasha to look up at you, only to find the sweater still draped over your head, the mistletoe placed right over your forehead, an expectant smile on your face. She chuckled softly, the sound getting muffled by your lips as she kissed you, ensuring that you got a proper kiss to think about while you spent the night at a socially acceptable distance from each other.

Friends and family started to slowly find their ways to the brownstone an hour later after you and Natasha had finished getting ready. You ended up wearing a simple pair of trousers, as Natasha had suggested, paired with a slightly tamer sweater, putting on light makeup just for the joy of getting ready. You borrowed Natasha your makeup and hair care products that she hadn’t been able to bring with her because her change of clothing took up most of the space in her purse. She wore a short, tight skirt that reached her mid thighs, leaving a good amount of room for her toned legs to shine, the silky skin covered by sheer, black tights. On the top half, she wore a thin, white blouse that was form fitting but not tight. The sleeves were slightly looser around her wrists, giving the shirt an elegant look to it. She looked beautiful, irresistible, really, but that had nothing to do with her outfit and everything to do with her natural beauty, her face, her body, her personality.

Welcoming guests was unexpectedly entertaining for Natasha. Monica was the first to arrive which immediately made you and Natasha glance at each other knowingly, both of you thrilled to see Wanda blush like a fool as she accepted the red roses Monica had brought her. It was finally Wanda’s turn to be sappy and foolish around her crush, you and Natasha enjoying the show immensely until more guests started to appear at the doorstep. Natasha watched with her mouth agape as Steve Rogers and his shocking physique and height, or rather lack thereof, walked in with James Barnes in tow, shortly after followed by Clint and Laura Barton with their children. Natasha’s chest ached. She could barely breathe, her heart hammering inside her ribcage from utter shock at who exactly the guests were. Never in a million years had she expected to encounter more of the people she loved so dearly in another life, perhaps in every life —she was yet to find out. The living room filled quickly, Thor striding in with Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis. The final guest of the day was Pietro Maximoff, Natasha’s jaw nearly unhinging all together. She hadn’t seen Pietro in years, his traumatic death crossing her mind as the charming man pulled Wanda into a tight hug, kissing her hair as he swayed her gently. It felt beyond surreal, perhaps even more so as Natasha slowly became aware of just how far the similarities of the reality reached.

You got glasses of Prosecco once everyone had arrived and set their gifts beneath the Christmas tree, Natasha’s gaze going around the room as you all raised a toast for Christmas. They all clearly knew one another, Natasha turning out to be the only new addition to the group of people, but she was welcomed as warmly as ever by everyone. You were all gathered in the living room, illuminated by candles and Christmas lights, the conversation naturally picking up as the guests started to catch up with one another. Natasha learned a lot from simply sitting quietly beside you on the couch and listening to the cheerful chatting from others. Thor was a regular client at the bakery, years of consistent interaction with Wanda having led to random parties and invitations that had also allowed Wanda to befriend Jane and Darcy as well. Steve worked at the bakery and often hung out with Wanda during breaks. Bucky was a regular there because he was best friends with Steve and worked a block away as an engineer. Natasha’s gaze shifted to the only kids in the room, her eyes focusing on Lila who was a good eight years younger from the sixteen-year-old Natasha had left behind in her original reality. Lila was clearly the youngest of the three, the two older boys, whom she knew as Cooper and Nathaniel, lost in some kind of game that resembled rock-paper-scissors. Natasha could barely look at the children, memories from her previous reality flashing through her mind. She couldn’t look at Clint, the lump in her throat preventing her from making any contact with her best friend.

“Mommy, can I have more apple juice?” Lila asked quietly, poking her mother’s leg impatiently, holding her empty glass in her hand. Laura, who was sitting right next to you, was deep in conversation, lacking patience to even look Lila’s way. The girl poked her mother a little harder.

“Lilian!” Laura’s voice was chastising, but she didn’t seem entirely mad. “Why don’t you ask Cooper or Noah?” A part of Natasha felt a sense of grief from knowing that her presence had never reached the Barton family which had left the second-born boy with a different name.

“I was just going to go refill my glass. Why don’t you come with me?” Natasha said suddenly, just loudly enough for Lila to hear. The girl seemed taken aback by such an offer from a stranger, her eyes shifting to Laura for approval.

“What a nice offer from Natasha”, Laura said in a very typical voice used with kids as she did her best to persuade Lila. Natasha swallowed back her sudden tears, glancing away to blink her eyes dry. She should have fought harder back then. It should have been her. “Don’t you think so too, Lilian?” Natasha frowned almost imperceptibly at the name but let the observation slide by. Lila nodded her head, giving Natasha the permission to offer her hand to Lila. You looked fondly after them as Natasha and Lila went into the kitchen to find more apple juice for the latter. When they returned, Lila was giggling in excitement, a spark of joy in her eyes. You couldn’t help but to smile. It came to you as no surprise that Natasha was good with children and had won the girl over in such a short amount of time. She was such a charmer, after all.

You had more drinks and snacks that worked as appetizers for the Christmas dinner, Natasha and you going from one person to another to allow Natasha to get acquainted with everyone, so that you could all feel equally included. Once Wanda had everything ready in the dining room, she invited her guests to sit at the table and dig into the warm dinner. You all squished yourselves to sit around the medium-sized table that was far too large for you and Wanda alone, yet not enough to fit the large number of guests. The dinner was rather traditional, made up of different types of casseroles, refreshing side salads, and roasted meat. It was perfectly normal, and perfectly comforting. You and Natasha sat near Clint whom Natasha was conversing with after finally plucking up the courage to face him. He and Laura kept up a lively discussion about how they had met, their family, and how they knew Wanda. Apparently, they had known each other for years through the Maximoff family and liked to come over for Christmas every once in a while to stay in touch with Wanda and Pietro. Natasha struggled to focus on what Clint was saying, her mind straying every chance it got to remind her of what his fate had been in another life. She tried her best to counter such grim memories with better ones, ones that brought her comfort, but seeing him right there in front of her was all too jarring to deal with, her mind returning over and over again to the pain she had caused for the Barton family, until she finally managed to force herself to focus back on Clint’s story. She made a conscious effort to pay attention to positive details about he and Laura’s personalities to prevent herself from bursting into tears. She could easily spot all the familiar characteristics in Clint and Laura’s dynamic, but there were also many differences that stuck out. Clint’s humor, to Natasha’s surprise, was cleverer than the common dad jokes that Natasha had gotten used to over the years. Laura was sterner with the kids, which caused them to gravitate more toward their father, especially when asking for more sweets. Natasha noticed that she got along with the Barton’s very well, unexpectedly well. The interaction felt rather natural. Nothing felt forced, nothing felt all that strange. They were just a nice family willing to open up enough to let Natasha in, something that had always been very typical for Clint.

The kids exited the table first, far too impatient to linger around after finishing their plates of food. The boys, with Lila in tow, moved into the living room to play, Wanda providing them with paper and crayons in case they felt the need to express themselves in an artistic form, the conversation carrying on uninterrupted. You were genuinely pleased to see Natasha get along with the guests, relieved that she seemed to enjoy herself even when put in situations where she was surrounded mostly by complete strangers. It made you feel like the chances of keeping Natasha in your life for a longer period of time were entirely on the table for you. There would be no obstacles or hindrances when she had no trouble infiltrating herself into your life. You looked at her as you speared some green beans a bit absentmindedly onto your fork, observing the way she was communicating with Clint. She was fully absorbed into Clint’s story up until she felt a gentle poke against her arm. Natasha turned around to her left where she had felt the interruption, met with Lila and her shy smile as she handed Natasha a piece of paper.

“Wow, what’s this?” Natasha marveled rather animatedly, eyeing the drawing of a woman surrounded by butterflies and flowers. The parallel was almost overwhelming. All the times Lila had shown Natasha the most colorful and creative drawings found the forefront of her mind.

“You.” Lila bounced slightly on her toes, clearly impatient to hear Natasha’s verdict. “I drew your pretty outfit and hair.” Lila pointed at the image for emphasis.

“I can see that”, Natasha hummed in an impressed tone, nodding her head in approval, focusing strictly on the present moment to remain unaffected by the pain of her past. “This is beautiful”, she praised Lila, taking in all the details of the messy drawing. “Is that my bracelet?” Lila nodded enthusiastically. “Wow. You’re incredibly talented.” Natasha took another look at the bright red scribbles that made up her hair, the grey smudges that represented her shirt, and the brown square and black twigs that were meant to be her dress and tights. Lila giggled quietly before snatching the drawing from Natasha and returning to the coffee table to continue drawing. You grinned at Natasha knowingly.

“Looks like you’ve got a fan.” She chuckled softly at your comment, going back to her dinner and the conversation with Clint, eager to learn more about what he did for a living to hopefully distract herself further.

For dessert, Wanda had made cookies and cakes of all sorts to please everyone. There was cheesecake with cranberry sauce, chocolate lava cake, chocolate chip cookies, frosted gingerbreads, chocolate confectionery, and mini cinnamon rolls, the table packed with all the dishes to ensure nobody went hungry on Christmas Day. The amount of food was overwhelming but when it was evenly distributed among all the guests, it slowly disappeared from the table bite by bite. The next conversation Natasha found herself in was with Steve and Bucky. She found it difficult to not ogle at Steve and his rather scrawny appearance in comparison to the person Natasha had known before. Steve wasn’t quite as skinny and frail as he had been during the Second World War. He looked healthy and well nourished, but he was far from the hunk of a man Captain America was, although Natasha had to admit that there was a good amount of muscle on him, at least compared to the frail and sick version of him she had only seen pictures of. The dynamic between him and Bucky was much lighter and jovial than she had ever witnessed before. Their demeanors were more boyish, but they had a certain air of old souls about them despite belonging into the same age range as the rest of them, excluding Clint and Laura. Steve wasn’t as reserved as Captain Rogers had always been. He was up to date with the world and seemed to be truly in his element. It was nice to see him really reflect a sense of belonging in the world. It brought Natasha peace to know that his past wasn’t as troubled as it had been in her reality.

You all returned into the living room to lounge around after no one could bear to take another bite no matter how delicious the food was. Pietro and Thor’s loud laughter boomed throughout the entire first floor, accompanied by Jane and Darcy’s higher pitched giggles, music playing from the stereos as half of the guests whined about how full they were. It made you grin brightly. Never before had you experienced such a Christmas, having previously failed to see the beauty of simply coming together to celebrate the holiday season and the end of the year with those you loved the most. You followed Natasha toward the living room, but instead of taking a seat to join the others, she turned to you.

“I’m gonna go into the bathroom real quick”, she hummed in passing, pecking your lips briefly before heading up the stairs. You took a step toward an empty seat in the living room, but felt a hand on your shoulder before you could slip away from the kitchen.

“Hey, Lila found this from under the couch”, Wanda said, handing a black, leather wallet to you. You immediately recognized it to be Natasha’s from the golden clasp that held the coin pocket shut.

“Oh, thanks. I’ll take it upstairs”, you hummed, immediately heading toward the staircase.

You popped open the button of the wallet that held together the leather flaps, slightly unsure why you did so, your curious eyes taking a peek inside. Something white slipped out from the flat pocket of the wallet, a piece of paper of some sort landing on the wooden steps, letting out a slight slap when it connected with the sleek surface. You stopped in your tracks in the middle of the stairs, reaching down for what you realized to be a Polaroid picture, carefully picking it up as you slowly continued to walk up the stairs. You flipped the image around, your heartbeat thudding in your ears as the world slowed down around you. It was like your surroundings suddenly went completely silent. Nothing else outside of you existed as you made it into your room, freezing in your tracks, staring down at the printed picture in your hands. It was no more than the size of the palm of your hand yet held a significance like no other. You felt like you couldn’t quite breathe properly, the ragged inhales you took demanding twice the energy that breathing normally did. You couldn’t believe your eyes, the shock you experienced opening your eyelids so far that you felt like your eyeballs might pop out. You were in that picture. You were in that picture with Natasha, in Natasha’s arms, donning a summer dress that you didn’t own, both of you basking in the summer sunlight that you had never experienced with Natasha before. She was hugging you from behind, holding you against her, her cheek pressed tightly against yours as you both grinned at the camera. You looked different, your hair color was different, your demeanor was different enough for you to understand that it wasn’t you that you were looking at, yet the resemblance was uncanny. It was you.

Chapter Text

“Natasha!” Wanda could hear the shout all the way downstairs, her intuition telling her that the tone of your voice was far from pleased despite the fact that it didn’t sound exactly alarming, a slight, ominous buzz finding the pit of her stomach.

“What is it?” Natasha exited the bathroom and came straight into your room, recognizing your displeased tone from years of petty arguments she had found herself in after stepping on your toes while learning to be in a relationship with another person. You had once taught her how to love, how to communicate, how to function like a healthy human being, which was why she wasn’t afraid of your tone. You turned to look at her, the shock on your face evident from your paling complexion. You looked drained of color, drained of light, truly disturbed. That was what brought the fear to Natasha’s chest. That haunted look was what made her heart jolt painfully inside her.

“What is this?” You offered the picture to Natasha, your fingers trembling visibly as you reached your hand toward her to give her the picture. Natasha needed no more than a glance to realize what was going on. She sighed quietly, bringing her hand to her mouth, her eyes closing in defeat.

“It’s…” She had no words. She didn’t know how to begin to explain anything to you because she knew it would never make sense. She would only come off as a liar, a downright delusional lunatic.

“Have you been stalking me?” The anger in your eyes hurt more than she could have ever expected, the ire that bore into her through your gaze intense enough to make her want to back away from you altogether.

“No- no, absolutely not-”

“Then explain this!” You shoved the Polaroid close to her as if burned by its touch. “What- what- Did you photoshop this? Edit my face into some random picture of your ex?” You could barely breathe.

“No!”

“Don’t fucking lie to me. It’s right there!” You threw the picture at her, turning away from her as you brought your hands up to your face in an attempt to somehow shield yourself from the truth, but there was nothing you could do. She took a step closer to you, her hand extended forward as if aiming to touch you, but you flinched away, your trembling hands in front of you as if to ensure that she stayed away. “Don’t touch me”, you hissed, taking another step back.

“It’s not what you think it is”, Natasha began, but you wouldn’t let her finish, unable to believe that there was a single reasonable explanation that could have undone the agonizing heartbreak that you were going through.

“Then what is it? Tell me.” You crossed your hands over your chest, your patience wearing thin.

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy.” Natasha seemed uncomfortable, reluctant to even participate in the conversation.

“I know you are”, you retorted bluntly, but she ignored your hostility.

“I haven’t been stalking you”, she began, earning an angry scoff from you, her eyes glancing your way in disapproval. “You’re not going to believe me.” She didn’t see the point in trying to explain herself. You were never going to believe her. You had always had a hard time understanding magic and aliens. You had always required concrete proof of anything extraordinary to believe it.

“Try me.” Natasha gave you a wary look, unsure if you were actually looking to understand her or if you were simply looking for an opportunity to prove your own theory about her, yet she decided to give it a try anyway.

“There are multiple realities.” You scoffed dismissively, but she kept going. “There are places in this universe, this multiverse, where things are different.” Your demeanor was oozing disbelief. “There are parallel universes where different versions of people, places, and events exist, different versions of you and me exist.” She took a small breath, struggling to even think about your variant. She could sense that it was all coming down and she would have nothing left once it was all over. “The wife that I told you about… This is her.” She crouched down to the floor to pick up the Polaroid that you had chucked at her, her features softening at the image. “And it’s also you, just another version of you.” Your eyes were the size of dinner plates as you tried to make your lungs function properly.

“Oh… so you’re crazy-crazy.” Your eyes gleamed with tears, forcing you to look away from her to prevent her from seeing how affected you were by the disappointment you were facing. “This is… fucking perfect.” You let out a small chuckle despite not finding a single aspect of the situation even remotely funny. “So let me get this right.” You glanced at Natasha. “You come from another reality where you lost your wife. Your wife, who is also me. I’m your wife. You know things about me, random things. That’s why you were always so good with me, knew what I liked, what I wanted. And now you’re here because… You can’t process grief?” Your tone was mocking, every word that left your mouth clawing at Natasha’s raw heart. You didn’t believe her and you had no intention of even trying.

“We all have our own ways of processing”, she muttered quietly.

“This is far from processing anything.” You went over the events again in your head, trying to make the puzzle pieces fit together, but none of them were clicking because none of it was true, the anger inside you building up to double its initial intensity, the rage bubbling over and seeping into your tone and volume. You cursed loudly, facing the ceiling to force your tears back into your tear ducts. “Was this some- some kind of ruse to make me fall in love with you?” You yelled in disbelief, trying to wrap your mind around the possible motifs she might have had to conduct such betrayal and spit out such nonsense. It didn’t make sense. What reason did she have to play with your heart so cruelly?

“No. No, Y/N, I’d never do that. This isn’t a game or some evil plan. I missed you. I wanted to be around you. Whatever you feel for me is on you.” You went silent, slowly recognizing your own agency in the situation. She had no way of controlling your emotions. She had no ability to make you feel things that you didn’t actually feel in your heart. She was right. She hadn’t manipulated you into falling for her. If anything, she had tried to escape you when you had first met. You were the one who had gone after her, on both occasions. You looked at her through your tears, standing there helplessly before her, the anger slowly starting to dissipate from you as you were reminded of what exactly you felt for the woman standing in front of you. No matter how hard you tried to put up a wall between you, the pain that you felt was directly connected to the grief of losing her, the thought of having to let her go.

“I’m falling for you”, you whimpered, biting your lip to keep yourself from bursting into tears. Natasha’s heart jumped in anticipation, but your grim exterior held her back.

“I don’t see an issue with that.” She took a step closer to you, sensing that your hostility was moving out of the way to make more space for her.

“You’re crazy.” You shook your head, still trying to take in all the information she had given you. “You- you’ve gotta be lying. It’s impossible.”

“It’s not. Wanda can explain it to you-” The second the words left her mouth the realized that it might have been a mistake.

“Wanda knows?” You looked even more horrified.

“Not exactly but she can tell that I’m not lying.” Natasha jumped in immediately in an attempt to save the situation, but it was too late, your anger was back, hot and flashing.

“She’s in on this?” You looked like you could not take any more of her stories and explanations.

“No, Y/N, listen to me.” The entire situation felt hopeless. She couldn’t turn it around no matter what she did. It was all over.

“No. No. What kind of sick people are you?” You were shaking your head as if to shake out any of the information you had just received, your life crumbling apart right in front of you. The tears that had been clinging vehemently onto your lash lines finally rolled down your cheeks, your lower lip trembling visibly as you opened your mouth to speak again. “I want you gone.” Natasha didn’t want to believe you. “Take your stuff and go!” Before she had the chance to fight back, to beg you to give her another opportunity to somehow explain herself, the door to your room opened, Wanda’s horrified expression coming into view. She had heard the loudest of your yelling, which had prompted her to come check in on you.

“What the hell is going on?” Wanda shut the door behind her to make sure the guests didn’t have to listen to the emotionally charged dispute.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on”, you said in a hysterical tone, tears streaming down your face. “You two. I don’t know what I ever did-”

“Shh, alright, Y/N. Let’s just… calm down.” Wanda could immediately tell that you were in no place to start explaining the situation. You were falling apart, torn from the seams.

“How could you do this to me? I trusted you!” Your tone was heartbroken, shattered.

“Do what?” Wanda looked between you and Natasha, searching for an explanation.

“She knows about it all”, Natasha filled in quietly, her expression tense and filled with sorrow. Wanda sighed heavily, upset that her party was being interrupted by something that could not be brushed under the rug for the time being.

“You’ve been lying to me. Both of you.” Wanda approached you despite your fuming, reaching her arms for you. “She’s fucking psycho, and you knew?” You yelled at Wanda who managed to remain calm, her hands squeezing your arms to ground you.

“She’s not psycho.” You paused at Wanda’s response, staring at her blankly. There was no way she was taking Natasha’s side.

“You believe her?” Natasha could hear the betrayal in your tone, the gentle crack in your hoarse voice emphasizing your pain.

“She’s telling the truth. This isn’t the only reality that exists.” You stared at Wanda, mouth agape. “Remember when I told you about that dream I had? The one where I met myself.” You nodded your head. You recalled it very vividly, and you recalled how impactful the dream had been. Wanda had met a witch in her dream, a witch that was an alternative version of her, one that told her she could travel through realities. “It’s true. She’s proof that it is true.” Wanda gestured toward Natasha. “I’ve had more of those dreams. Elaborate conversations with her. The multiverse is out there, and this is the witch’s way of showing it.” You stared at her, eyes wide, disbelief exuding from your expression. You couldn’t believe any of it. You didn’t want to believe it because it went against everything that you knew about the world.

“The Scarlet Witch”, Natasha said quietly, Wanda’s head turning her way in mild awe as if discovering yet another piece of her puzzle.

“Fuck. I need to get out of here. There’s no way. Fuck, shit, shit.” Your breathing grew heavy as you tore yourself out of Wanda’s grasp and took a few pacing steps, feeling claustrophobic in your small room.

“Breathe, Y/N. Look at me, honey, just breathe.” Wanda grasped you again firmly, forcing you to stay put. She forced you to look at her as she spoke. “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. You can think it’s crazy, you can think it’s all a lie, it doesn’t matter.” You seemed to slow down, deciding to hear her out. “It doesn’t matter because I’ve never seen you this happy. I’ve never seen you so open, so sweet and loving.” Wanda gave you an imploring smile that came off sympathetic to your situation. “You’re head over heels for a reason. Nobody can fabricate that.” You felt your cheeks heat from embarrassment. You had fallen for a lunatic. How could you humiliate yourself in such a way?

“Well, I’d rather be with a sane person.” You crossed your arms like a petulant child, unwilling to give in so easily. You were not going to be fooled or taken advantage of.

“She’s not crazy. You know that deep down. She’s already shown you that”, Wanda reasoned again, Natasha standing quietly on the side.

“She’s been stalking me or some shit. She knows all these things about me and she’s using it against me.” You turned to Natasha. “That’s why you were at the show more than once. You’re a crazy, obsessed…” You checked yourself before calling her anything worse. “You’re crazy.” Natasha wasn’t going to listen to you insult her when she had spent the last two months finding a way back to you. This was not what she had been after. She stepped closer to you, prompting Wanda to move aside.

“The first night you locked eyes with me was right after I had come into this reality. I came straight from a battlefield and searched half of Manhattan to find you.” Her tone was on the verge of anger and hurt. “I saw a poster for the opera in the subway and recognized your face. I caught a single seat from the final show for the day just to get a glimpse of you.” Natasha could feel her eyes water, the contradiction that she found herself in making her weary and confused. She wanted you. She just wanted you. She didn’t have it in her to fight, not anymore.

“That night I realized that I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t meet you because I knew it would end this way. You had your own life, one that was completely separate from mine, and I knew that no matter how much I loved you, no matter how much I wanted you, I didn’t belong here. I didn’t belong in your life.” She let out a huff, struggling to voice her feelings out loud. “The second night at the show was my goodbye. I spent a month trying to get my own life here into order but for the most of it I was depressed in my apartment, mourning the death of my wife. I couldn’t actually face you. I couldn’t be with you, so I was going to leave you be. I didn’t want to interfere with your life.” Natasha wiped her eyes curtly with her index finger. It pained you to see her cry, your mind immediately recalling the first night she had spent over at your house. The pain you had witnessed on her face had been palpable. It was the kind of pain that nobody could fake. “But then you came after me, and almost got yourself killed in the process. I couldn’t resist you and your beautiful soul. I missed you far too much.” She shook her head in disappointment, glancing your way.

“Regardless of how this ends, I will never regret that decision. Never.” She gave you a broken smile, her eyes still glistening with tears. “Because I got to have just a few more weeks with you and it was more than I could have ever asked for.” You felt physical longing in your chest from having to watch her cry. You felt the urge to comfort her, to hold her because no matter what she was saying you still recognized the fact that you cared very deeply for her. You found it impossible to believe her story. It was beyond your comprehension, yet it was beautiful in a heartbreaking way. You looked at her for a long time, searching for clarity within yourself. You were in love with her. You knew that. You didn’t have to search for that. You had fallen in love with her far too quickly, and to know that she had been loving a version of you for years made you feel oddly secure, but despite all that, your rational mind was trying to reason its way out of the situation.

“Let’s say it’s all true…” You began a bit hesitantly, moving closer to her, your eyes analyzing her from head to toe. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing. I just want to love you. I want to see you and know that at least in one reality you’re safe and you’re okay.” She gave you a pleading frown. “I just want you. There’s nothing else I want in the world. You’re it. You’re all I need.” You couldn’t help the tears that found your eyes, the droplets spilling down your cheeks rapidly.

“I can’t do this. I need time. I- I need to be alone.” You turned away from both Wanda and Natasha, walking to your bed and sinking onto the mattress. You let out a loud sob as you curled up into a ball. Natasha was about to move into your direction, intending to comfort you, to hold you and try her very best to make you feel even slightly better, but Wanda stepped in front of her, gesturing toward the door.

Natasha left the house with tears streaming down her face, the icy air biting the apples of her cheeks as she hugged her coat tighter around her. Never in her life had she felt as lost as she did in that moment. She didn’t know what to do. The only thing that she could think about was you. She felt so utterly helpless. There was nothing she could do. She wanted back to you because you were the only semblance of familiarity she had in her new reality. She couldn’t function without you, nor did she have the reason for it. If you didn’t want her, her new reality was useless. She had no purpose. She had no one to turn to, nothing to do, so she headed back into her apartment and shut the world outside. She changed into more comfortable clothes, sitting in pure silence in her living room as she thought about her next move. She couldn’t stay in a reality where you had looked at her with such hatred in your eyes. She didn’t want to live a life where you were in her reach, but never to be hers. For all she cared, she could cease to exist altogether, longing for an escape from the grim reality she found herself in. She wanted to blame Wanda for ever sending her into another reality. She wanted to find the culprit behind her misery, despite knowing full well that she would find it if she just looked into a mirror. She was the one who had been so emotionally inept that she had traversed universes to escape a grief so strong that it nearly killed her. She had caused it herself, she had made the decision herself. Wanda had simply helped her carry through with it.

Looking for someone to blame wasn’t going to solve Natasha’s problems, so she reached out for a solution that had created the mess in the first place. She needed to escape. She wanted to go back home, back to a place where she at least still had friends and family around. She missed the people she had left behind, the people who knew her, knew what she had been through, knew insignificant details about her. She missed her sister, she missed her Wanda, she missed Steve, she missed Maria, and she missed Tony. Her heart couldn’t take the longing inside her.

“Please, Wanda. Take me back”, Natasha whimpered, curling up into a ball on the couch, hugging herself as tightly as she possibly could. She rocked gently back and forth in an attempt to soothe herself, her tears finally spilling over. “Please, Wanda. Please.” Natasha bit her lip harshly, holding in her cries. “I wanna go home.” She wasted a little bit more effort into holding in her cries before giving in, the sobs tumbling from her lips in sudden bursts. “I want home.”

Natasha remained on the couch for the rest of the night, crying after her old life, her old self, and most of all, you. She didn’t move from her spot until she had run out of tears, until she heard a knock on her door. Her eyes were raw, lips hot and puffy from all the crying she had done. Her muscles and joints ached as she craned herself up from the cushions of her couch, some semblance, some spark of hope providing her with the energy to bother getting to the door. She was hoping it was you, begging and praying that you had come back to make amends, but another, larger part of her knew that it wasn’t the case. You wouldn’t have looked at her with such gut-wrenching disappointment had you not truly felt it. She didn’t deserve your forgiveness for keeping something so huge from you. Nonetheless, she trudged to the door, yanking it open rather lethargically. The sight that came into her view made her break down all over again, the familiar face turning her knees weak. She immediately recognized the muted orange hair and the stance of her body. Natasha sank into Wanda’s embrace, her Wanda’s embrace.

“Oh, hey-” Wanda’s arms locked around Natasha automatically, holding her as tightly as she possibly could, alarmed by the rather obvious vulnerability Natasha was displaying. Wanda’s hand sank into Natasha’s hair, her strong body holding up Natasha’s. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything. God, I missed you”, Natasha hiccupped, squeezing Wanda even harder, practically shaking in her embrace.

“Come on, let’s go inside. We’ll make sense of it all.” Natasha pulled away rather reluctantly, her hands clinging to Wanda on their own. They both got inside, returning to Natasha’s spot on the couch. It was only then that Natasha got a proper look at Wanda. She wore regular clothing, but the skin around her eyes had darkened noticeably, her features coming off as darker, deeper. She seemed worn down, drained, maybe slightly deranged, bringing attention to the fact that Natasha did not know what had been going on in her original reality, nor did she quite know anything concrete about Wanda’s new ability to travel the multiverse. All Natasha had ever heard when Wanda had offered the opportunity, had been a chance to get you back. Natasha couldn’t help but to hold onto Wanda with both hands, worried that Wanda was going to slip away from her and not take her with her.

“You cut the blonde out of your hair”, Wanda mused gently, taking a look at Natasha’s miserable appearance. The latter smiled slightly.

“I wanted a fresh start.” They both sat in the feeling of understanding until Natasha could no longer avoid the obvious. “How are you here?” She asked, her eyes filled with childish awe.

“I got this inexplicable need to check in on you”, Wanda explained quietly.

“Your timing is impeccable”, Natasha chuckled bitterly. It took a good while until she was able to fully gather herself and explain the situation to Wanda in its entirety. She told exactly what had happened, not sparing day details as she poured out her heart and soul into Wanda’s lap.

“It was horrible. The- the look in her eyes”, Natasha mumbled quietly, pulling away from Wanda to gain back her dignity. “I wanna forget it. I wanna forget it all.” Natasha took a shaky breath, Wanda grasping her hand despite the distance Natasha was trying to create. Wanda didn’t quite know what to say. Perhaps there was nothing to say at all. “It was all for nothing. Everything that I did to protect her… it was all in vain.” Natasha sniffled loudly. “All the effort, not letting her come to Vormir with me, shielding her during the battle, sending her to safety before all hell broke loose… I might as well have thrown her right off Vormir. The end result would’ve been the same.” She groaned in frustration, rubbing her hand over her eyes. “It should’ve been me instead of Clint.”

“No, Natasha. There was no right answer.” Wanda squeezed her hand tightly.

“I was always the right answer.” Natasha turned to look at Wanda, those sorrowful green eyes so certain and earnest.

“No.” Wanda’s expression was stern. “You couldn’t have changed what happened and you can’t undo what happened. None of this is on you.” Natasha looked like she wanted to fight back but she didn’t.

“I don’t want to be here. Not anymore. It’s too painful.” Natasha wiped her eyes dry with her fingers, casting a pleading look at Wanda. “I want home.” They looked at each other, Wanda’s eyes flitting back and forth as they searched Natasha’s for the right answer.

“It’s not the same anymore.” Natasha looked at Wanda with dread etched onto her face as she waited for Wanda to elaborate. “Tony’s dead.” Natasha let out a weak sigh, one that almost seemed like she was going to burst into tears, but she maintained her composure. There was a heavy silence that weighed down on both of their shoulders, but eventually, after Natasha had managed to wrap her mind around the news, she spoke.

“I need to get back home. I don’t have a purpose here.” It sounded grim, but it was true, and Wanda understood that. Being in a reality that was difficult to blend into was devastating, not to even mention all the reminders Natasha would have of you in that environment.

“Are you ready to leave her behind?” The silence following Wanda’s question was heavy and dragged on for what felt like ages. “You have two options: learn to live without her or try again.” Natasha looked ahead blankly.

“It’s not worth it.” Natasha shook her head in defeat. “I can’t take it. She doesn’t want me.”

“Then I think it’s better you come with me.”

“Thank you”, Natasha whispered, giving Wanda a sorrowful smile.

“Where’s your variant? It would be for the best to leave things as close to how they were before your arrival”, Wanda reasoned. Natasha looked beyond torn, regret contorting her features into a pained grimace.

“I killed her.” The air around them felt stagnant and almost suffocating. There was no going back. “I was careless, I know. I was arrogant and confident beyond reason.” Wanda seemed to need a moment to internalize what Natasha had done, but in the end, it did not come to Wanda as any kind of surprise. Natasha had always been possessive and protective over you. She would never let anything stand in the way of you and her, nothing, not even herself.

“Then I guess there’s nothing left. I’ll take you home.”

You didn’t go downstairs again once on Christmas Day, staying cooped up in your room until the next day. Nobody came asking for you, which you knew to be Wanda’s doing. She had gone downstairs back to the party shortly after you had told Natasha to leave, unable to welcome anyone’s presence. You could not handle anybody witnessing you in such a state of humiliation and agony. You couldn’t face anyone, not even yourself, replaying the things you had said to Natasha, the things you had shouted at her. You felt guilty, but you also felt angry, vacillating between feeling like your reaction was justified and like it was over the top. You had never cried so hard, never let out such agonizing sounds than after the guests had finally left the house and it was past midnight. The holidays were over. Christmas was over, and so was your relationship with Natasha. It all felt like a horrible fever dream, like none of it had ever been real. You spent the morning of Boxing Day in the same spot on your bed, your eyes sore, body cold and shivering. You hadn’t slept a wink, far too occupied with your jumbled up emotions to be able to close your eyes as you stared at your wall with empty eyes. The sun had come up despite how much you had felt like it was never going to shine again.

You had fallen in love. There was no way around it, there were no excuses for it. You had fallen completely and irrevocably in love with Natasha Romanoff and there was nothing you could do to hide those feelings or escape from them. You loved her, you were in love with her, but the messy thoughts in your head made you wary of that feeling. She was delusional, telling stories about alternate realities. You could never rely on someone who couldn’t even make sense of her own perception of the world. You couldn’t trust someone who would ever even have the guts to come up with such lies, let alone recite them without a speck of shame. It was lies, the whole relationship was lies. It was built on lies. It could never be anything, at least not anything healthy when it was based on delusions. You felt exposed as you imagined all the ways in which she had possibly invaded your privacy. You imagined her following around you in the city, coming to your shows, eyeing you at the grocery store, peeking into your bedroom through the window, like you had seen all the stalkers in movies and television do. You felt humiliated. Who knew what kind of violations she had done? Who knew all the ways in which she had stolen your right for privacy? You thought you had been able to trust her, you thought that she was someone secure and reliable. She came off as sane, rational and reasonable. She didn’t seem spiritual, or delusional in any other way. She had always seemed perfectly normal to you. If anything, she had seemed more reasonable and proper than most, but perhaps it was all too naive of you to believe that people could truly be who they display on the surface or even a little bit beneath it.

You wanted to believe her more than you wanted anything else. You wanted to be able to trust her, and somewhere deep down, emotionally, you did trust her, but your reasonable mind could not accept her story when you had spent all your life thinking that life outside of earth was not possible. Sure, people talked about aliens and magic beings, but they were always exclusively in fairytales. Some speculated about the existence of aliens and claimed sightings, but everyone knew those kinds of people to be slightly out of their minds, looking to escape their miserable lives. Natasha had suffered a tragic loss. It was only reasonable to be going at least a little bit crazy. Her wife had very clearly meant the world to her. It didn’t take much for anyone to figure that out. Natasha missed her wife dearly; perhaps it was exactly what was driving her insane. It was enough to drive anyone insane. You couldn’t really blame her.

But then again, if you did actually choose to believe her and trust that she was telling the truth, how could you ever compete? Natasha wasn’t looking for you. She was looking for a version of you that you didn’t even know anything about. You could never truly please her or match the expectations she had for you. It was impossible to make sense of. You wanted Natasha, you wanted her and no one else, but it also felt like she wanted someone you could never be. It was devastating, confusing, draining, and no matter how you tried to look at the situation, you felt like there was no winning.

“Can I come in?” You heard a knock at the door, Wanda’s voice muffled by the barrier between you.

“Yes.” Your whisper was so frail you were sure Wanda hadn’t heard it, but she opened the door anyway and came to your bedside, taking a seat beside you, close enough that you could rest your head on her lap over the soft fabric of her morning gown.

“Talk to me, honey. I’m starting to get worried.” Her hand found your hair, petting over it gently as she waited for you to speak.

“I’m just… processing.” You pressed your cheek tighter against Wanda’s thigh, craving some kind of human contact to alleviate the tormenting thoughts in your head. “I can’t believe it ended like this.” You let out a long sigh, feeling utterly defeated. Wanda remained quiet for a while, clearly in thought.

“It doesn’t have to be this way. You can still have her.” You almost didn’t want to hear her out at all, feeling defensive and overall bitter about everything.

“How could I ever trust her? She’s been stalking me or something for god knows how long”, you scoffed, turning onto your back to be able to see Wanda’s face.

“She hasn’t been stalking you.” You gave her an angry glare. “She has no ill intentions. She doesn’t want to hurt you”, Wanda reasoned gently, playing with your hair.

“She already did.” You had a sour look on your face.

“Not intentionally”, she reminded you.

“Then why does it hurt so much?”

“You’re in love, Y/N”, Wanda whispered tentatively, unable to believe that you were so blind to the cause of your own agony.

“No, I can’t. No, no- it’s not-”

“This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. You won’t find another one like her. Take a leap of faith. She told you she wasn’t stalking you, she told you the truth. You’ll just have to blindly take her word for it. Take that risk because you might just never have to look for love again.” You let her words sink in at their fullest impact, pained by the fact that you would have to choose blindly and try to find balance between the rational and the emotional. You wanted to know what to do, what was the right answer but no one else could answer that question for you.

“Think about how happy you’ve been. Think about what you want from the coming year.” Wanda cupped your cheek, giving you a sympathetic smile. “She’s a good person. I can feel it.” Her smile only widened, her forefinger tapping the tip of your nose in a gentle, affectionate way. “And I think you know that too.” You shifted your gaze toward the window in your room, staring blankly into the white light that came from outside.

“I’m scared”, you whispered, barely getting a sound out of you.

“Life is scary. Love is scary”, she reasoned in a gentle hum. “Don’t let fear take her from you.” You closed your eyes, your lower lip trembling rapidly as blood rushed in your ears, tears finding your eyes again. “Why couldn’t she be normal? Why couldn’t she be a sane fucking person?” You sobbed out, burying your face into Wanda’s thighs.

“We all come with baggage. You just have to choose whether she’s worth dealing with it all or not.” Wanda pulled your face away from her lap, gently guiding you to look up at her. “Come on, honey.” She pulled you upright, bringing you into her embrace, her hand combing through your hair. “Either way, it won’t be the end of the world.”

“I want her”, you whimpered, failing to hold in your sob, a loud wail falling from your lips, prompting Wanda to squeeze you even tighter.

“Then let’s go get her.”

Chapter Text

“Where’s the body?” Wanda walked into the more open space in Natasha’s living room, her hands crackling with red, sparks appearing alongside a faint scarlet glow around her irises.

“I burned it behind a dumpster in New Jersey.” Their eyes met, Wanda’s wide from shock.

“Fuck… Natasha.” There was a hint of chastise in Wanda’s tone and for a good reason.

“Not my proudest moment.” Natasha shrugged.

“That’s-” Wanda was struggling to find any kinds of words for the information she had just received. “Must’ve been awful.”

“Just another kill.” Natasha’s voice was heavy, her grim features countering her words rather heavily, but Wanda didn’t comment. Natasha’s life had gone astray badly enough to not need any reminders of or judgement over what she had had to do to achieve it all.

“I think it’s best we get going then. There’s nothing here for us anymore.” Wanda looked apologetic as she raised her hands up.

“Take me home… please.” Natasha looked tormented, her hand clutching the Polaroid picture of you. “I…” Her voice disappeared as she nearly broke down.

“It’s okay, Natasha. I got you now.” Wanda changed her stance, preparing herself to go through the effort of creating a portal. A large abrasion ripped into the air in front of them, but it disappeared just as quickly as Wanda had created it.

There was a knock at the door, both of their heads turning in the direction of the sound before flitting quickly at the other’s face to make sure they had both heard it. Wanda dropped her hands, the red glow disappearing immediately, Natasha turning toward the door expectantly as if it might just open on its own. They looked at each other again, the corner of Wanda’s lips drawing up into a slight smile. Natasha looked hopeful, but there was also fear mixed into that expression on her face. She didn’t have it in her to believe that it was you behind that door, yet it was all she was hoping for. Wanda’s hand touched Natasha’s arm, nudging her gently toward the door.

“Don’t forget what you can have”, Wanda’s words tugged at Natasha’s chest, her heart racing as she walked to the front door of her variant’s apartment, her hand finding the doorknob and twisting it slowly. She almost couldn’t believe that you were standing there, eyes bloodshot like it hadn’t been all that long since you had stopped crying, Wanda standing beside you. Natasha opened the door wider, hearing her Wanda’s footsteps behind her.

“Hi.” Natasha wanted to pull you into her arms, her body yearning to feel your own, to squeeze you tightly enough to ensure you could never slip away from her again.

“Hi.” Your voice was timid, wary of the fact that you crawling back to her might not have been as welcome as you were hoping it to be. Your eyes flitted down to the floor briefly before coming up to Natasha’s face, but your words got caught in your throat when Wanda emerged into the doorway. Your eyes widened in shock, your jaw dropping rather comically. You looked at Wanda beside you, grasping her hand as if to test if she was still right there beside you and as real as ever. Wanda was less shocked by her variant’s presence than you were, but she still seemed rather astonished by what she was seeing, her shock sidelined by curiosity. The disbelief on your face was evident yet all you could do was believe your own perception and the very reality that you were witnessing as your gaze went back to the doppelgänger of your roommate and best friend. “You were telling the truth”, you gasped quietly.

“I would never lie to you, not if I might lose you because of it”, Natasha whispered, smiling gently, your eyes itching with tears.

“Sort this out”, Wanda said from behind Natasha, her attention shifting to her variant. “You and I need to talk.” Your Wanda looked rather taken aback but she nodded in agreement immediately, letting go of you and allowing you to go inside Natasha’s apartment as both Wandas went into the hallway. You stared after them through the door that Natasha closed between you and them, only moving into the living room when Natasha’s hand brushed over your forearm as if wishing to grab your hand, but she let go before she could reach your wrist. A small, hopeful smile found your lips as you followed her to the couch. You took a seat on the cushions, recalling your tipsy night there, your eyes threatening to itch with tears again. It was now or never. You could have more of those moments, infinitely more, if you just managed to trust her and undo the damage that you had done by lashing out on her.

“I guess I should start off with an apology”, you hummed, still quite shaken from having witnessed two of Wanda. “I- I don’t know what got into me.”

“I don’t blame you, dorogaya (darling). I know it’s beyond the comprehension of many.” You nodded at her words, glad to know that she was understanding.

“I was cruel.” You couldn’t even look at her, still struggling to wrap your mind around everything. It felt like you were missing bits and pieces of the fight, of the thoughts that had been regurgitating in your mind all night.

“You were reacting”, Natasha said placatingly.

“I shouldn’t have said a lot of the things I did.”

“Maybe not”, she hummed, placing her hand on your knee in an attempt to make contact with you. “But you’re here now.” Your eyes rose up to meet hers, your gaze wary, longing.

“I am.”

“What does that mean?” You could tell that she was asking in all earnest. She didn’t want to get her hopes up and start to imagine that any kind of a happy ending was even remotely in her reach.

“I don’t know”, you whispered weakly, unsure of what to say or how to continue from the fallout you two had had.

“What made you come here?” Natasha’s stomach ached, her heart hammering in her chest from anxiety. She could not take any more.

“You. I can’t seem to stay away.” You let out a slight chuckle as if in an attempt to bring levity into the situation, but it did little to coax a smile on Natasha’s face. You remained silent for a while, sorting through the thoughts in your head. You felt your throat squeeze shut, your head aching from your sleepless night. “I think I’m in love with you.” Natasha couldn’t react to your words. She couldn’t receive them. She couldn’t let her heart be torn apart once more. She had nothing more left to give.

“Don’t say that.” Your heart sank. “I’m leaving.” She stared into the interior of the house, ignoring your tormented face on purpose. Your heart started hammering in your chest ruthlessly, your lungs feeling empty, drained of the air that you couldn’t seem to breathe no matter how you tried.

“No.” Natasha’s head turned to look at you at the sound of your pained voice as if to make sure she had heard right. “No, no- You can’t.” You sounded teary, the lump in your throat preventing you from articulating clearly, your hands reaching for her own.

“There’s nothing here for me. It’s all a distant mockery of what I’ve lost”, Natasha mumbled, shaking her head in defeat.

“I’m here”, you whimpered, your hands squeezing her forearm even tighter.

“I can’t trust that it’ll work.”

“Natasha.” You could not believe your ears after all the effort you had put into figuring out your feelings.

“I’m going. I don’t belong here.”

“Yes, you do.” You felt helpless. “What about all the weeks we spent together? Did they mean nothing to you?” Your eyes were filled with sorrow and pain.

“They did and they do, but I have no fight left in me. I can’t risk it. This might be my only ticket home.” She nodded her head as if agreeing with herself and choosing to fully carry through with her decision.

“No! No, you do not get to do that!” You suddenly sprung up from the couch, unable to control the jumbled-up feelings inside you. “You do not get to come here and make me fall in love with you, only for you to leave me at the first bit of hesitance you sense.”

“Y/N”, Natasha began in a quiet, weary tone, but you interrupted her.

“I’m allowed to be careful!” You looked exasperated, your lower lip trembling, chest heaving with your heavy inhales.

“Y/N”, she tried again rather calmly. “I love you more than anything. Losing you for a second time will kill me.” She sighed softly to herself. “We can never work.”

“No-” Your tone was close to begging.

“I was foolish to think that I had a place here, that I could love you how I loved you before.” Natasha looked devastated, her bloodshot eyes and blotchy skin truly emphasizing her pain. “I don’t expect you to understand.” You seemed to calm slightly down at her words as you sat back down on the couch beside her, closer than before, your hand finding her own again.

“Then help me understand. Maybe you don’t have to love me the way you used to. Maybe we can figure it out as we go”, you suggested carefully, mindful of overstepping her boundaries after nearly exploding on her once again. “Tell me more about myself, about us, all of it. I can’t understand if you don’t give me a chance to.” Natasha knew from the look in your eyes that you were seriously asking to be included in her complicated situation. There was logic to your words. Why reach for the unreachable when she could reach for something more realistic, something perhaps just as good in its own way?

“You’ve seen the Vengeance franchise.” Natasha shrugged, an amused smile on her lips, her hand finally responding to your touch. The familiar names of the superheroes crossed your mind, reminding you of the fact that you shared a name with one of them. “The name is not just a coincidence… Of course, you’re played by an actress who can’t quite match your beauty.” She was giving in, slowly melting under your touch. She was willing to hear you out and try for one more time. You looked at Natasha in disbelief, unsure how you should respond as you gasped quietly.

“You’re telling me I’m a superhero?” You felt a smile tug at your lips at such a ridiculous statement.

“Heroes of the world”, Natasha recited a line from the movie. “Not only a superhero, but my hero, as sappy as it sounds.” You looked at each other. “You saved me from myself. You made me human again.” She bit her lip to avoid smiling too widely.

“The… you’re in the movies too.” You barely had any words. “There’s a kiss in the third one.” It sounded crazy, it sounded insane, but you couldn’t deny the similarities of the characters in the movies and the two of you. The actors looked alike to some extent, and many other features and characteristics mirrored you and Natasha’s, maybe even the dynamic to some extent.

“That kiss started it all”, Natasha whispered, her smile not enough to hide the tears she had to wipe away. “The movies aren’t hundred percent accurate, and painful to get through, but they’ve got some truth to them.” You took a moment to take in all that she was saying, recalling the battles between aliens, the characters, the events, all of it.

“I was pretty badass”, you hummed almost playfully, thinking about the character that you had always thought of as a fun and admittedly interesting person. You had been an incredibly skilled spy and sniper in another universe. You had been a righteous warrior who had saved countless lives, including that of the woman beside you. You had worn a black suit with violet accents that glowed like stars in the sky. You had been perhaps snarkier, tougher, more ruthless than you could ever imagine yourself being in your own reality, but you had also been just as loving and caring toward your loved ones as you were in your own reality. You had had mean fists and a thirst for justice like no other, paired with incredible skills with all kinds of guns. No other sniper could quite reach your level.

“Oh, you were.” Natasha nodded her head, a fond look on her face, a confident, knowing smirk finding her lips. “You were truly badass.” You both remained quiet for a moment as you let the information sink in further. Natasha looked away from you as memories filled her mind. No matter how much you were there beside her, she was still in such immense pain whenever she remembered you as her wife that she could not bear to look at you. It wasn’t hard to sense the emotionally charged demeanor that Natasha was wrapped up in, but you decided to approach it gently despite any hesitation you might have felt. You moved your hand up from her arm to her cheek, cupping it gently to guide her face to yours, her jade eyes locked with your own.

“Tell me more?” Your voice was nothing but a whisper. Natasha searched your eyes, searched her own emotions regarding the situation and regarding you before opening her mouth again.

“Your mother was a hunter.” There was a storytelling quality in the way she spoke. “Which I’m sure you remember from the movies. You learned to shoot with precision before you learned to properly read. You always had steady hands.” She nodded her head, looking at you for a moment, allowing herself to admire your beauty as her eyes ran over every part of your face. “By the time you were in your late teens you were probably one of the best shooters the country had seen, except nobody knew you, nobody knew about your existence outside of the little cottage you and your mother inhabited.” She let out a long sigh before being able to continue. “That was until your mother died. Your anger and sadness made you seek for an outlet. You needed a way to make a living and fortunately for you, or rather unfortunately in many ways, you got caught in the middle of the alien invasion on Manhattan.” You nodded your head. That was in the movies. “You picked up a discarded gun and joined the fight without anyone asking you to. It was Maria who eventually realized what was going on.” She leaned a little bit closer to you, your body painfully aware of the fact that you weren’t fully pressed up against one another in a way that would have left you satisfied.

“Toward the end of the battle, you got shot in the calf. It was a flesh wound. I told you to drop out of the fight and leave because you as a civilian were only going to be in the way –I was a bit defensive back then– but you never listened.” She chuckled at the memories. “As long as you could shoot, you were of use. That’s what you told me.” She laughed again. “I couldn’t understand what kind of a lunatic civilian would be crazy enough to take on an alien invasion, but then I saw how good you were, even when injured. You shot down aliens one after another from your hiding place. It was incredible.” Your eyes were wide with wonder as you listened to her intently, unwilling to miss a single word. “After the battle, Fury demanded to know your identity, so that we could all thank you appropriately. You were asked to join the Avengers and things were never the same after.”

“The Avengers? That name is way better than the Vengeance league”, you snickered quietly. “Oh wow, what a story.” Natasha smiled brightly, pleased that you were taking the entire situation seriously and actually listening to her. “But what about us? How did we… fall for each other?” Your eyes couldn’t help but to dip down to Natasha’s lips, your body longing to be closer to her, to touch her and feel her.

“You fell first. It took me a while to realize that I was even feeling any kind of way. I tried to hide behind layers upon layers of snark and witty banter, and even went as far as taking distance from you before I finally managed to look myself in the eye and realize that you were not just a teammate, but something more.” Your gut churned with butterflies as you recalled the feeling of falling for her. You wanted to get closer to her, your thumb stroking her wrist carefully. “You were always so gentle with me. It was jarring to someone who had only ever been treated with violence.” You felt your eyes itch with tears. It was unfair, all of it, both you and her situation.

“In a very heartbreaking way, that’s rather beautiful. I’m glad I could do that for you”, you whispered, glancing down at her hands, your touch reaching up to her forearms to feel more of her. Natasha smiled gently, her eyes moving down to your joint hands before coming up to your face again.

“You’re doing it right now.” Her voice could barely carry loudly enough for you to hear. “You’re being gentle with me.” Her hand responded to the touch of your own, caressing your fingertips back in the same manner as you did. You didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t really do anything other than keep touching her. “Whenever I was angry beyond reason as a result of a battle or a dispute with the people in charge, or my friends, you would come to me, and you would be gentle with me.” She sniffled, pursing her lips to hide how affected she was by the memory, by the parallel. “I couldn’t stay angry when you touched me like this.” She moved her hand a little more to clarify what she was referring to. “When you spoke reason to me in soft whispers.”

“Kind of like now”, you mused, smiling gently.

“Kind of like now”, she agreed in a small nod, her heart aching worse than it ever had at the thought of leaving you behind.

“You were always the voice of reason for me. You made me see what life had to offer…” She sounded wistful, and at that moment you felt like a hint of the clarity was extended to you. She sounded truly in love, but it wasn’t directed at you. She was talking about someone else.

“Were.” You sounded bitter to your own ear despite not meaning to, but you couldn’t help the feelings of jealousy toward your alternate self.

“What?” Natasha turned to look at you, her brows furrowing.

“How could I ever compete?” You looked at her with a heartbroken expression of realization on your face. “Natasha. I’m not her. I’ll never measure up to her.” She looked away from you, her smile wiped away from her face. It was an impossible situation. There was no winning.

“It won’t be the same. I know that. I’ve always known that, which is why it’s perhaps for the best if we end it here.” Every ounce of pain that shone on Natasha’s face countered her words, but she couldn’t help but to try to protect you. “It’ll hurt the least this way.” She shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head in defeat as she pulled away from your touch. “It was just a fling.” It felt wrong to voice out such blatant lies, your face falling into a desperate frown.

“Don’t say that. Please, Natasha, don’t say that.” You felt your tears spill against your own will. “You can’t say that”, you sobbed, unable to control your emotions anymore, your hands reaching for hers again. She couldn’t let go of you. You would not be able to take it.

“I have to.” She wouldn’t let you touch her. “It’s the only way I can still go back home.”

“You don’t have to go back. You can stay here with me.” You leaned closer, cupping her cheeks to make her look at you. “Stay here with me, baby.” You held her face gently, Natasha’s heated cheeks damp against your palms. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t resist your face.

“But what if it doesn’t work out? What if it’s just more pain?” Natasha’s eyes glistened with tears that pooled at her lash lines. She was broken and beaten down, and it was more evident than ever.

“What if it does?” Your faces were mere inches apart, eyes searching the other’s. “What if it all works out?” Natasha could feel your breath brush over her chin. “I don’t have to be like her. You don’t have to be who you were. We can just be us. Here and now.” Your eyes were wide with anticipation, begging her to hear you out. Natasha’s eyelids fluttered shut as she tried to make sense of her screaming mind. She didn’t know what to do, torn between two, torn by her pain and her search for comfort and security. “I can be exactly what you need.” Your whisper brought goosebumps to her skin, her muscles melting under your touch as she leaned forward. She paused, hesitating for a moment before she pressed her mouth to your own.

You kissed her irritated lips that were hot and salty from her tears, swallowing each little whimper that escaped her. You pulled her closer, sucking on her plump top lip that often gave her a slight pout, your mouths fitting together as well as they always did. Your chest felt light and airy, full of relief despite knowing that it wasn’t all over yet. Her kiss might very well have been a goodbye kiss, but you were going to take it nonetheless because her hot mouth against your own felt better than life ever had. You didn’t care to breathe. You didn’t care. All you wanted were her lips, her hands at your waist, her warm cheeks against your palms. Neither of you deepened the kiss, keeping it tame and gentle, but the underlying passion was hard to shove aside. Her lips were rough and needy, kissing you fervently as if to savor every last bit of you to ensure that it lasted her a lifetime, lasted all the way to another reality. You pecked her lips a few times as you tried to find enough self-restraint to pull away from her to breathe. The chaste kisses made her smile, her teary eyes fluttering open to see your face.

“I want you. Just you”, she mumbled gently, her eyes flitting down to your lips. “I don’t need you to be anyone else. I fell in love with you.” You could feel your lips tug into a smile, your thumbs swiping over her reddened cheeks as her face fell. “But I’m scared.” You could barely hear the words.

“So am I”, you whimpered, swallowing back your sob. “But you know w-what I heard from my version of a woman I know you appreciate greatly?” Natasha chuckled at your wording, sniffling quietly.

“What?” You both had tears streaming down your faces as you held each other close.

“Life is scary.” Natasha huffed out a laugh. “Love is scary.”

“She’s right about that”, she moaned softly, casting her gaze down, shaking her head in disbelief over the entire situation. You guided her chin up, your eyes moving down to her lips before you leaned back into a kiss. It was wet and messy, but loaded with an unbelievable amount of emotion, your lips pressing together with bruising intensity that you both hoped would convey your affection and admiration toward the other. The kiss grew heated the more desperation started to seep into it, your hands leaving Natasha’s face to tug her even closer to you by her waist and her arms and any part of her you could reach, her hand moving to the back of your head to guide the kiss. You felt dizzy from all the crying you had done, the passionate kiss swiping you off your feet. You felt her tongue caress the seam of your lips, Natasha asking to deepen the kiss, but you pulled away before allowing her access.

“You have to promise me that we’re in this together”, you said in a watery tone. “I need to know that if we get into a fight, or things get hard, you won’t disappear out of my reach.”

“I won’t, malyshka (baby). I promise you.” She sounded solemn, her jade eyes boring into your own with such intensity it almost felt jarring. “I won’t leave until you tell me to.” You searched her eyes for confirmation, looking for reassurance despite taking her words at face value. She had no reason to lie to you. She would not lie to you if it meant losing you. She had told you so herself.

“Good.” Your grin was brighter than the sun, a small chuckle getting muffled against her lips as she pulled you back in, unwilling to stay away from your delicious lips that were begging to be kissed. She brought you into her embrace, nearly pulling you fully onto her lap, her firm thighs against your own bringing a familiar heat to your lower abdomen that only fueled the intense affection and longing you felt in your chest. You pushed your tongue against hers, pleased to feel her respond, your entire body melting into her hold as you sank into the kiss, molding against her in every way possible, a weak, helpless moan slipping from you when she switched angles to kiss you even deeper. Once Natasha’s lungs were on fire, she was

forced to pull away to catch her breath, her glossy eyes finding your own to admire.

“I should go tell Wanda I’m not leaving. She’s a busy woman”, Natasha mused, brushing some of your baby hairs behind your ear, her fingertips lingering close to caress the soft skin of your face. You nodded your head but didn’t dare to pull away to initiate the move. “You sit tight and pretty. I’ll be right back.” She cupped your face firmly, placing a proper kiss on your lips before pulling herself out from under you and heading to the door. You could not take your eyes off her, staring at her back profile longingly. She was wearing the flannel pajamas she had lended you the week before, paired with a warm, dark grey knit sweater. She looked rather adorable, your features softening visibly at the mere sight of her, at the knowledge that she was yours to keep. She let both Wandas back inside, yours coming over to the couch to check in on you and get a situation update from the more familiar side. Natasha couldn’t hold back her smile as she approached Wanda who needed no further elaboration to know that you and Natasha had been able to even things out with each other.

“I’m staying”, Natasha stated, Wanda nodding her head in understanding, immediately welcoming the former into her arms.

“Remember this moment”, Wanda whispered in Natasha’s ear, squeezing her tightly. “Remember that you felt like staying was impossible, but you were able to work it out nonetheless.”

“I will.” Natasha hugged Wanda even tighter.

“This won’t be a forever goodbye, but I hope I don’t see you for a very long time. Build that life you’ve always dreamt of here. You have all the tools. Your battle is over now, and this is your reward”, Wanda hummed, pulling away from Natasha to see her face. Natasha looked emotional but at peace.

“Take care of yourself”, Natasha said a bit more sternly, nodding her head toward Wanda’s appearance, mainly referring to the darkening skin around her eyes. “Don’t play with your powers.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” The smirk on Wanda’s face told Natasha that there was no use in chiding Wanda. She was going to do whatever she wanted to do, and Natasha already had a feeling what Wanda was after. Wanda had never been the same after losing Vision. She had her own pain and baggage to mend which Natasha already knew could easily lead her to the world’s end, or perhaps even the multiverse’s.

“I mean it, Wanda.” Natasha gave her a pointed look.

“I can take care of myself.” Wanda shrugged.

“I have no doubt that you do.” Natasha smiled. She knew that it wasn’t always about one’s ability to care for oneself but rather about one’s will to care for oneself. It was far too easy to get blindsided and forget what was for the best and what was overly ambitious.

“I’ll see you someday.” Wanda said with a fond but tired smile on her face.

“I’ll see you.” Natasha gave Wanda’s hand a squeeze before backing away to give her room to create a portal. You and Wanda watched in awe as the other Wanda’s hands came up in front of her and sparked with light, a large abrasion appearing in the air. You could see with your very own eyes another place beyond that spot in Natasha’s living room. You could see that when Wanda stepped through it, she disappeared out of your sight, the portal closing behind her. You could see with your very own eyes that Wanda was gone and there was no possible way for her to still be in the same room with you. Wanda was gone, the world opening up to you right then and there as the truth of Natasha’s words sank in. The concrete proof of what had been told to you was overwhelming but more than necessary. You felt lighter, more secure. You were alright. You turned to look at Wanda who seemed truly fascinated at her alternate self’s abilities, her green eyes wide and filled with wonder before slowly returning to you.

“Who would’ve thought that I was right?” Wanda said in a flabbergasted sigh that made you laugh.

“I’m glad you were”, you hummed, placing your hand on Wanda’s. “Thank you.” You pulled her into your embrace. “And I’m sorry for ruining the party.”

“Shh, no such thing.” Wanda’s hand rubbed your back before she pulled back. “I’m happy this worked out.” She glanced at Natasha who was slowly making her way into the living room. “Now, I’ve done my part, so you need to behave. No more fighting”, Wanda ordered playfully, hearing Natasha chuckle.

“No more fighting”, you agreed, nodding your head in emphasis as Wanda got up from the couch.

“Come pay me a visit before next year”, she hummed in amusement, a knowing smirk on her face as she placed her hand on Natasha’s shoulder in acknowledgment of her before moving to the entrance of the apartment. She had a feeling that you and Natasha were going to be hard to pull apart from then on. She got her shoes and her coat before she was out the door accompanied by you and Natasha’s respective goodbyes.

Natasha’s hand found your head, gently smoothing over your hair in a very affectionate manner, your head tilting back to see her. Your stomach flipped at the mere sight of her as she rounded the couch to you, taking a seat beside you. Her hand guided you into her embrace on its own as you allowed yourself to find comfort and solace in her sturdy body and sink into her hold. She let out a long sigh to rid herself of the tension that had accumulated inside her from all the stress, the heartbreak, and the pain. You pressed your head against her chest, listening to her even heartbeat, your arm hugging her waist. You had to muffle your yawn into her sweater, Natasha’s chest sparking with thrilling electricity of excitement at the way your face pressed into her body.

“Tired?” Natasha asked, her hand sinking into your hair to comb through it repetitively, soothingly.

“Couldn’t sleep a wink.” You nuzzled closer to her, feeling the weight on your shoulders shake off as an overwhelming sense of safety found your body. Her arms tightened around you, lips pressing into your hair and on your forehead in a few gentle pecks.

“You can rest now”, she mumbled, her hand stroking down your back to your waist as if to attempt to pull you closer but it was no longer possible. You hummed your agreement to her words, squeezing her just a little tighter as you inhaled her familiar scent, unable to get enough of her fragrance.

“How do you feel?” You wanted to comfort her as much as she was comforting you.

“I feel fantastic”, she whispered into your ear, her breath tickling you, making you chuckle.

“Me too.” You lifted your head off her chest despite how much you didn’t want to, but there was something you wanted just that little bit more. Natasha’s chin tilted down to look at your face, her smile widening at the sight of you, your lips pursing slightly to ask for a kiss. She leaned down to bring her warm lips into your reach, her soft mouth connecting with your own. She exaggerated the smack of your lips on purpose, pleased to see your lips curve into a grin, prompting her to lean back in to kiss your smile, your chin, your cheeks. Her hands came up to either side of your face, holding you steady as she peppered you with as many kisses as you could handle before your laughter got to be too much.

“You’re the cutest”, she chuckled when you finally buried your face into her chest to escape the tickle of her lips, her hands rubbing your back in long strokes, her face in your hair to remind herself of how good your shampoo smelled. It was hard to describe the relief you both felt in the presence of the other. The air around you felt lighter, easier to breathe, your bodies ridden of the plaguing anxiety and worry. You could just sit in each other’s embraces and be in the moment.

“So are there two of you as well?” You asked in curiosity after a long moment of silence, your smile against her breast widening. “Do I have to be worried about another version of you lurking about?”

“No. She’s not here anymore.” Natasha didn’t quite want you to know the extent of her cruelty despite not being fully able to hide it away from you. She already knew that you were familiar with her rough past and upbringing, but she would rather not tell you such things right into your face, especially when she was trying to leave all of it in her past. You could sense from her tone that it was wiser to leave the matter be.

“Is there anything else I should know about your past life?” It was important to be up to date about everything that had made it possible for you and Natasha to be together. Knowing and understanding were essential for trust.

“I don’t like to talk about it. I want a clean slate, but if you need to know something for the sake of this relationship or to better understand me, I’m open to it.”

“I appreciate that, and of course, if you ever feel like you need someone to listen to your troubles, I’m right here, love.” Your tone was soft, bringing a smile to her lips. You had always been good at listening.

“Yeah, you are.” It was almost like Natasha couldn’t believe it to be true, the look in her eyes carrying just a hint of disbelief with it. You were right there in her arms, your warm body touching her own, your heart beating loudly in your chest, protected by your ribs that were strong and fully intact. Your soft skin was smooth and unmarked by scars and cuts from battles you should have never had to fight. Your lungs were functioning steadily, making use of all the oxygen you breathed in with every inhale you took. Your face wasn’t dragged down by grief and pain, your hair wasn’t falling out from all the emotional torture the final battle had put you through. You had a spark in your eye, mirth in the sly smile on your lips. You had a chime to your laughter, a heat that coursed through your veins with such intensity that it infected Natasha with it. You were alive and well, happy in the most truest sense, far, far away from a reality that had only ever hurt you time and time again.

“Natasha?” Your tone was thoughtful as you pulled away. “We’re missing something essential.”

“What?” She frowned.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Natasha couldn’t help but to laugh out of joy at your question, amused that she had forgotten about such formalities.

“Yes, I will, detka (baby). I already thought of you as mine.” You felt your cheeks heat at her words, her hand squeezing your waist. “You were mine from the moment we locked eyes.” You allowed your fingertips to caress her left cheek, carefully tracing over the light mole there, a faint smile on your lips as you recalled the first time you had ever seen her with her bloodied, dirty face and tormented eyes. It felt strange to look at the memory from another perspective and in light of everything that had happened between you and everything that had happened before Natasha’s arrival. It all made sense. The yearning in her eyes, in her demeanor, made sense. The look felt no longer haunted to you, but one of love and admiration, of deep sadness and loss. The thought of her grieving you before even meeting you was absurd, but you knew that there had been a reason, a purpose, for it all along. It had never felt coincidental or meaningless. You never could brush it aside because it was simply meant to be. Your eyes met hers, your forefinger trailing down over the corner of her mouth to her jaw. You never wanted to see that look of sorrow on her face ever again. You pressed your lips to hers to seal your promise to one another, the kiss coming off confident and strong, prepared for a new beginning.

Chapter Text

“I don’t wanna”, you giggled, standing a few feet away from Natasha, facing her. She had a jeering smile on her lips, powdery snow up to her ankles, her cheeks bright red.

“That’s because you’re not ready to lose, detka (baby)”, she hummed, shaping the ball of snow that she was holding between her mitten-covered hands. It was New Year’s Eve. You and Natasha had forced yourselves to get up from the bottom of the couch after realizing you had in fact inhaled a full tray of cookies that Wanda had baked for New Year’s. To escape her wrath, you had decided to go on a walk in Central Park while it was still light outside, and the city was slightly calmer than it would be in the evening.

“Lose”, you scoffed in disbelief. “I’ll show you who’s gonna lose.” You crouched down, gathering snow between your hands to have at least something to defend yourself with. Her smile widened. It was almost predatory but in a playful way. You knew you were going to get your ass handed back to you, but who could seriously blame you for wanting an attractive woman to treat you in such a way?

“Bring it on, pretty girl.” You wasted no time in chucking your snowball at her, watching her dodge it with ease. You grabbed more snow, but before you could form a ball, Natasha had chucked hers right at your face. You let out a horrified squeal as you covered your head with your arms just in time, the ball hitting your coat with impressive force. Natasha was clearly not one to mess around in a snowball fight. She laughed at your misfortune, walking a little bit closer to you as she shaped another ball between her hands. You grabbed more snow after recovering from your blow, doing your best to stare her down as you backed away from her. It was rather thrilling.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that”, you huffed as you chucked another ball at her. It didn’t land, not even close, prompting you to try again, choosing for rapid fire to hopefully at least hit her.

“Make me feel it, malyshka (baby).” She gave you a smirk, lifting her snowball up enough to give you a warning before chucking it at your face again. You could not help the natural instinct to scream and protect yourself with your arms, Natasha taking advantage of the fact that you had no training to counter her attack or any kinds of threats with an attack of your own. You could simply scream and hide. The sheer shock of her impeccable aim was enough to make you laugh, each hit she aimed at your face pulling out a scream and a laugh from you as you did your best to find a window of opportunity to get back at her. Natasha loved seeing you playful and full of joy, and what she loved even more was that she was the cause of it, she and her fighting skills that had previously only brought pain and suffering to both her and others. She chucked another one at you, the shot followed by a hearty laugh when you let out nothing but a mere squeak as you fell to the ground to avoid being hit by her, the comical sight enough to make a few bystanders turn their heads. She chucked a few more balls at you for good measure before you were able to get back on your feet again, causing you to dramatically scramble on the ground as you played up each impact of her hits like you were aiming for an Oscar-worthy performance.

Natasha looked perfectly fine in her fur-lined leather jacket that was stylish yet relaxed, a thick scarf neatly tied around her neck, her curls pulled back into a messy bun at the back of her head. She looked all too good considering she was in the middle of a snowball fight, which prompted you to up your game. Your aim with the ammunition might not have been the best, but you had other ways of defending yourself. However, you were going to try a few more times before resorting to physical violence. She threw another snowball at you, but you managed to dodge it, a second one hitting you in the side right after, a third one on its way. You screamed, running further into the blanket of snow around you on one of the vast lawns in Central Park, Natasha’s snowballs hitting your back with impressive consistency. You took some distance, glad to notice that Natasha was taking a break from bombing you into ruins. You prepared your snowball, aiming it at Natasha before chucking it as hard as you could. It flew across the air, speeding toward her, but alas, she was always too fast. You tried to hit her at least five more times but she remained unscathed whereas you were sweaty and already looking more than disheveled with your scarf hanging down your back and your hair messy beyond repair.

“Oh, I’m gonna take you down”, you growled, throwing the snowball in your hands at the ground when Natasha hit you once more, giggling like a fool at her own success, thriving off of your misery.

“Let’s see it then.” She paused expectantly, waiting for you to reveal your next move. You were less than ten feet away from each other when you suddenly sprinted toward her, aimlessly attacking her with your hands to at least ruffle up her appearance. She let out a loud cackle that echoed across the lawn in the park, falling into the snow when your body collided with hers. She didn’t even try to fight back, pleased to feel your body press into hers as you pushed her into the foot of fresh snow that had come down during the last week of December.

“All bark and no bite”, you mumbled triumphantly, crawling on top of her to admire the way her hair contrasted against the stark white of the snow, her bright pink cheeks glowing as her smile widened. You leaned closer to her, feeling her mittens stroke over your thighs, your body beginning to warm up from inside out all on its own. Your eyes searched hers, a gloating smirk finding your lips as you leaned close enough for her to feel your breath fan over her chin. You reveled in the feeling of triumph you experienced for getting at least one hit on her, Natasha allowing you to have your moment before you went flying into the snow. You screamed again, barely able to process how insanely strong of a woman she was when your back thudded against the soft snow, and she was up on her feet, her boot pressing down on your chest.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” It slipped from you. It really just did. Natasha’s smirk turning into one of utter satisfaction. You tried to squirm beneath the firm pressure of her foot, but she really had you nailed to the ground. “Don’t turn me on. It’s not fair”, you whined, pushing her boot off your chest.

“I’m doing no such thing.” Natasha let out a slightly condescending chuckle. “You’d know if I was.” Just those words made your stomach twist pleasurably in anticipation for more.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yes”, she hummed, crouching down beside you, her lips tugging into a happy grin that worked as a late warning for what you had coming your way. With one rough yank she flipped you face first into the snow, her hands pulling your arms back as if to detain you, a low moan falling from your lips as she straddled your hips. She chuckled softly, purposely putting more pressure over your hips by pushing herself against you, the action going straight between your legs. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from letting out another sound, the cold snow against your cheek suddenly a comforting relief as the heat bubbled up inside your thick coat. You felt her move on top of you as she leaned over you, her mouth hovering over your ear. “Feel that, detka (baby)?” You indeed felt every nerve in your body, your heart racing in your chest as you nodded your head. “That’s what I’m talking about.” You let out a soft groan of defeat, delicious sparks of warmth gliding down your spine at the weight on top of you and her sweet breath tickling your ear.

“I want a rematch”, you groaned, pushing yourself up against her in an attempt to escape, but you only made your situation worse when you heard Natasha’s small grunt right by your ear. Fuck, what a woman. The cold of the snow seeping through your clothes had never been more welcome.

“I’ll beat you every time, krasotka (pretty girl).”

“No”, you moaned, pushing yourself up against her to gain leverage from the ground beneath you, but when you couldn’t find enough strength to get her body off you, you decided to play just as dirty as her. You exaggerated the huffing that your physical straining had left you with, slipping in a sound that made Natasha throb against the curve of your buttocks. You bucked your hips, managing to free your hands from her ruthless grip that had loosened just that little bit from the wave of desire that had flashed through her. With your upper body free, you were able to push her back, sending her into the snow, her cocky smirk replaced by an intense look of want. Finally, you were affecting her. You smirked in victory, not giving her time to even try to get up as you shoved her into the snow, a puff of it flying right into your heated face as Natasha’s hair got fully doused in the powdery substance. She laughed loudly, pleased to feel you against her, truly overjoyed by the privilege of having you near. She gave up on fighting you, her hands finding the curve of your waist to caress, pulling you closer to her front, but you tutted her suddenly.

“Ah, no. This is my only weapon”, you purred condescendingly, pulling out of her reach to deny her the pleasure of touching you.

“Come on, now”, Natasha groaned, sitting up in the snow, her eyes dipping down your very non-seductive get up, but her gaze lingered, nonetheless.

“Maybe tonight”, you mused teasingly. “I’m here to fight.”

“I don’t even get a kiss? That doesn’t seem right, dorogaya (darling).” She shook her head in disappointment, giving you a small pout but you just grabbed a ball of snow and chucked it into her face. She let out a small growl when the snow pelted against her forehead, a wary squint on your face as you watched her carefully to make sure she wasn’t hurt by the impact. “Suit yourself, detka (baby).” She gave you a murderous look that had your knees wobbly as she stood up from the ground. You immediately backed away, hastily and blindly starting to run away from her but she was lightning fast. She was so fast you didn’t think humans could be so quick in their movements. She charged at you and tackled you into the ground accompanied by loud giggles from the both of you. She pretended to hit you in a sparring manner, tickling you instead, her hands ever so gentle when they connected with your body.

You play-fought until you were sweaty and disheveled, until the sun went down, returning home laughing and giggling as you entered through the door. The atmosphere inside was beyond romantic, shutting you and Natasha up instantly when you spotted Wanda and Monica on the couch in candlelight, a charcuterie board and wine on the coffee table. You and Natasha looked at each other with giddy, knowing grins on your faces before apologizing to the two women and rushing upstairs to get out of their way. You held onto Natasha’s ice-cold hand, allowing her to drag you into your room and throw you right onto the bed, the springs groaning beneath your weight. She joined you on the bed, beyond pleased that there were no thick winter clothes in the way of your bodies. You pulled her on top of you, fitting her between your legs and locking her in place by wrapping your legs around her hips. You looked at one another, your back arching to press your breasts against hers.

“Hmm, I think you owe me a kiss.” Natasha had been yearning for one all afternoon, her eyes flitting down to your mouth.

“Do I, now?” You smirked. “I don’t think so.” Natasha sighed in disappointment, leaning down, but you didn’t let her reach your mouth. Your hands stroked down her sides to grab her glutes, Natasha pressing her lips together to hide her reaction.

“You said maybe in the evening”, Natasha reminded you, her fingers tracing your neck, sending shivers down your spine as goosebumps erupted all over the area.

“Maybe”, you emphasized, Natasha groaning in annoyance.

“You’re such a little shit”, she mumbled, adjusting herself on top of you enough to make you bite your lip at the way her body shifted against you.

“It’s New Year’s Eve, baby”, you crooned, your forefinger trailing over her plump lips that were irritated and pink from the cold. They were irresistible, especially when you knew just how delicious they would feel against your own, but you didn’t let her kiss you. “Wouldn’t you wanna wait until midnight?” You gave her your best pair of doe eyes, Natasha’s hips seeming to press into your own just a little tighter.

“No.” You chuckled at her small pout. “What kind of a psychopath are you?” She asked in a sarcastic scoff that made you laugh.

“I just want it to be worth the wait”, you whispered.

“Ah, I see how it is”, she hummed a bit smugly, her hips pressing into your own with tantalizing pressure for one last time before she got off you, her left hand stroking up your inner thigh on the way, just to tease you. You wanted to cuss her for such a move, electricity shooting through you, your body longing after the pressure and warmth she had given you.

You should have known that it was a mistake to provoke Natasha in such a way, the wait until midnight turning out to be painfully slow and tantalizing. You were quite positive Natasha had never looked sexier than she did when you were downstairs with Wanda and Monica, filling your stomachs with delicious food to fuel yourselves for the coming year. Your girlfriend was jaw-droppingly gorgeous even in the most casual clothing imaginable. She needed nothing more than a flattering shirt and a pair of perfectly fitted trousers to make you crave her attention, not to even mention her loose, messy curls that you had to force yourself not to ruffle up further. However, that was not the only reason you found yourself hot and bothered during the hours leading up to midnight. Natasha knew how to play. You had always known that, but you had failed to realize how drastically you underestimated your own ability to stand her taunting gaze and teasing touches. You could barely focus on anything when those lithe fingers touched you whenever they got the chance. She was not even slightly ashamed of how high up your thigh her hand went when you sat on the couch, chatting away with Wanda and Monica, her discreet fingers brushing all too close to the apex of your thighs.

You were warm inside, every touch of her hand spreading a burning sensation across your skin, the heat reaching inside you, festering there to become a burning ball of desire within you. She was sly with her advances, managing to use even the smallest of touches to her advantage. Just a graze of her fingers against your own was enough to remind you of how good they felt inside you, how good they felt squeezing your hips hard enough for those perfect nails to leave marks into your skin. The simplest of caresses against your lower back made a shiver run down your spine as you recalled the way she had peppered the area with sweet kisses before taking you from behind. You had set your trap all by yourself but there was no backing down, not until midnight because your pride would not allow you to let Natasha win with her burning gaze and wandering hands. She would not get to win no matter how she looked at your lips and your cleavage and shamelessly eyed you like a piece of candy. It got to you, oh it got to you so well, but she would not get to know that.

Of course, Natasha could see exactly how affected you were. She noticed the way you crossed your legs shortly after slipping a lewd comment in your ear. She noticed your avoidant gaze, your fidgety hands, your flustered appearance. It was all right there for her to admire, and oh boy, did she admire. She would not waste a single second of her opportunity to gawk at you to her heart’s content. You looked absolutely stunning no matter what you did, and she made sure you knew it.

The hours left until midnight seemed to drag on forever alongside the wetness in your underwear, getting infinitely worse when Wanda and Monica left the house to go spot fireworks outside around ten in the evening. Your senses prickled in an almost overwhelming way when the door thudded shut. Your stomach lurched and your cheeks heated as you realized that there was nothing holding you back from Natasha, nothing but your own pride. You sat side by side in the dimness of the Christmas decorations, your hearts beating erratically in your chests. There were no social rules left to maintain now that Wanda and Monica were gone. You did not have to be mindful about making them feel uncomfortable with your little game. You made sure to not even look at Natasha because you had a feeling you were not going to be able to restrain yourself.

“Warm?” Natasha asked quietly, the low, deep tone of her voice sending shivers down your spine. There was nothing you could do to prevent the spark of electricity that glided down your spine and right between your legs.

“Maybe a little”, you hummed, your skin swallowed by scorching flames when you felt her hand on your shoulder. She was sitting on the couch in a slight angle to be as close to you as possible, her breasts pressing up against your arm, her fingers coming up to your shoulder, carefully moving closer to touch the area where your collarbone ended. Her fingers were cool against your hot skin, barely even brushing over it, but you felt every bit of that touch, your body tingling expectantly. You felt like you couldn’t quite breathe correctly when she was so close.

“Let me know if it gets to her too much, detka (baby).” Her voice. Her voice was too much for you to handle. It made you want to whine from frustration. The endearment, the slight accent she said it with. It was all getting to be far too delicious. She had a smug smirk on her face as her fingers traced loops on your skin, her eyes on the movie in front of you.

“I’m good.” You barely managed to slip the words out without giving yourself away. She was winning and you both knew it. You turned to look at Natasha, your eyes holding her own, their intensity boring right into your soul. The slight curve to her lips was daunting. You knew she was enjoying the situation immensely. She wanted to see you crumble, she wanted to see you give in to her. It was one of her favorite things to throw your own decisions and teasing into your face. You saw the very subtle movement of her lips as she bit the inside of it to keep her face schooled, your eyes dipping automatically to her plump lips. So what, your ego could take a hit or two. It was almost midnight anyway. Only an hour and a half to go. So what, if you took a head-start to the new year, hopefully literally. You leaned in abruptly, barely even realizing your own decision, Natasha pulling back right that second to not allow your lips to connect. She let out a slightly condescending, victorious laugh that made your stomach lurch as she gently pushed you back into your spot on the couch. She tutted you gently.

“Ah, ah, ninety more minutes, darling.” You let out a heavy sigh at her teasing.

“I didn’t even want you, by the way”, you grumbled in annoyance, crossing your arms, Natasha coming closer to you again, her fingers brushing back some of your hair to uncover your ear.

“No, of course not”, she chuckled knowingly, doing her best to sound serious, but the situation was far too amusing for her to keep a level face. “You were reaching for the remote, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, a smile creeping to your face as you nudged her away from you because every brush of her hand, her body, felt like pure, blissful torture.

When the clock struck eleven you felt exhausted from the effort you were putting into staying away from Natasha. You wanted any kind of contact with her. You wanted to lie on her chest and have her play with your hair, but any kind of playing would end up in you missing out on the change of years and all the pretty fireworks you wanted to witness. Hell, even sitting on the same couch was risky when all you could think about was your first time with her on that very couch. You lasted for another thirty minutes before needing to exit the house, suggesting to Natasha that you go for another walk so that you can be outside where you could properly see all the fireworks at midnight.

“I know a really good place”, you hummed as you both got off the couch, Natasha’s hand turning off the TV with the remote that sat next to her.

“Where?” She seemed curious.

“You’ll see.” The look on Natasha’s face was one of excitement, an undeniable thrill to experience more life with you.

The steady and consistent boom of fireworks going off around you welcomed you as you stepped outside into the snowy streets. You headed toward more spacious areas of the city where shooting fireworks was easier and safer, looking to spot the most beautiful ones. You walked around for a good while, talking as you pointed into the sky to make sure you both saw the same thing.

“I love the small sparkles. It’s like golden rain”, you hummed, holding onto Natasha’s hand a little tighter, making sure you were walking as close as possible to her. She looked at you for a long moment, her eyes returning to the sky just as a firework went off, green and golden sparkles flying across on the pitch-black sky.

“Me too”, she hummed serenely, her hand pointing up at the sky. “Incoming.” You both watched a large, multicolored ball of light scatter across the sky.

“That one was gorgeous”, you commented, staring up at the sky in excitement.

“Can you predict the next one?” Natasha asked as the high-pitched wheeze of a firework sounded above you, a single ball of light flying upward.

“Red.” The firework exploded right as you said it, thin, orange streaks bursting into the shape of a round figure accompanied by golden sparkles.

“Almost.” She had a gentle smile on her face.

“You try the next one.” You both slowed down at the edge of the Hudson River, coming to a full stop. The bank area gave you a good view of Brooklyn and all the fireworks people were setting off. Natasha moved behind you, her hands sliding around your waist to hug you, her chin resting over your shoulder. You leaned your head against hers, your abdomen churning with butterflies as her body pressed tighter into your backside, her arms squeezing you enough for you to feel it.

“That one is going to be blue”, she whispered into your ear, your hands coming up to her forearms to hug her back. The firework exploded loudly, golden sparks flying everywhere, followed by slightly delayed, smaller sparks that rapped in a satisfying way.

“Not quite”, you hummed gently, nuzzling closer to her chest.

“What about that one?” She nodded her head toward another large firework.

“Green.” You said it as quickly as possible, both of you watching green and red sparks burst above the water.

“You got it, baby.” She pressed her cheek against your own, hearing a little laugh from you.

“Oh, look at that! It’s pink!” You squealed, pointing at the sky again, a large ball of pink appearing in the distance.

“I think that’s the first pink one I’ve seen”, she hummed, pulling back to look at you after you turned your head to see her. You smiled at each other, the urge to kiss her growing tenfold. You could barely resist her and the only reason you managed to, was because she was able to control herself enough to place her chin back on your shoulder.

“I wanna see more blue.” You watched in silence as the fireworks exploded one after the other, your wish eventually coming true, blue and gold flashing against the midnight blue sky. “How long until midnight?” Natasha moved her left arm forward to pull up the sleeve of her coat, uncovering her wristwatch.

“Five minutes.” You glanced at each other, excitement contorting your features into wide grins of anticipation, your eyes already taking a peek at Natasha’s mouth. Her smile widened.

“Do you have any New Year’s resolutions?” Your gazes moved back to the scenery as you voiced your question.

“You. Just you. Keeping you near. And being happy, as sappy as that sounds”, Natasha mumbled, her hands rubbing your abdomen and hips to feel you better through your thick clothing and her mittens.

“Not sappy at all, love. I had something similar in mind.” You could feel her cheek move against yours as she smiled, the warmth of her face making your heart melt.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wanna start celebrating Christmas from now on as long as it’s with you.” There was a quiet sniffle beside you, a nearly silent one that you could not tell whether it was emotional or simply a response to the cold outside, but you had a feeling it was the former.

“We’ll celebrate, always. We’ll make it a tradition.” Natasha nodded her head, nuzzling her nose into your cheek in an attempt to cover up the fact that she almost kissed your face before midnight. She had come to realize that waiting had its own kind of magic and it would have been a shame to screw it up so close to midnight. Natasha glanced at her clock again. Three more minutes.

“Are you ready for next year?” You pulled her arms tighter around you.

“I’ve never been more ready.”

“Me neither.” You both waited in silence as you looked across the river and sometimes even turned your heads to look at the fireworks on your side of the city, glancing at Natasha’s wristwatch rather consistently as you impatiently waited for the year to change. The wait was thrilling, your body feeling jittery in her embrace. You were prepared for the new year perhaps for the first time in a long time. You felt okay, you felt better than okay. You felt hopeful and you felt strong with Natasha beside you, and the feeling was beyond mutual. You had no way to truly comprehend the relief she felt. You had no idea about the safety and security she experienced in that moment with you. To know that all the explosions were simply for the entertainment and enjoyment of the citizens and not to defend Manhattan from danger. To know that you were safe and sound right there against her chest. To know that you were hers and she was yours. She had not felt such contentment in a very long time with everything that had been going on in her previous reality. But the war was over, and she could finally breathe.

“One more minute”, she whispered after checking the time again. She gave you one more squeeze before flipping you around in her arms, your smile seeming to linger vehemently on your face. You couldn’t shake it no matter what. You were far too excited about her and the unforgettable moment you were sharing.

“One more minute”, you repeated, looking at her with such longing that Natasha felt an adoring frown find her face as she took off her mittens, shoving them into her pocket to be able to touch your face with her bare hands. She caressed your skin gently, none of the fireworks around you able to steal your gaze away from her eyes. She looked so beautiful, so mesmerizing, that all you could do was look at her. You both glanced down at her watch again, waiting for the clock to strike midnight, your gazes remaining down until the minute hand finally ticked forward and hit midnight.

Your head shot up to see her, both of you looking like you were going to burst out of your seams from excitement. You wasted no time in leaning in, capturing her in a kiss so heated Natasha’s left knee nearly gave in, the fireworks going off around you in a cacophony of explosions as people shouted “Happy New Year” to everyone nearby. She parted her lips immediately for you, deepening the kiss to be dizzying, her body melting into yours, begging for more after the torturous wait she had had to endure for the day. You heard her desperate moan, felt it against your lips, your mouth devouring her to the best of your ability. You wanted every inch of her. You wanted to swallow her whole and keep her inside of you forever. There was no way to process your lust and want for her. There was nothing you could do to accurately convey the raw need you felt for her, your tongue sliding all too lewdly against her own considering you were in public, but thankfully there were not that many people close to you. The kiss lasted for as long as physically possible, every cell in your body straining for as long as biology allowed, your kiss growing fervent and sloppy. Natasha could barely manage to pull away from you, her mouth hungry for so much more, her wet kisses moving up your jaw and cheek when you pulled away for air.

“Happy New Year, love”, you moaned breathily into her ear, your arms hugging her close, your eyes wandering to the fireworks above you, explosion after another going off against the dark sky.

“Happy New Year, detka (baby).” Her hoarse voice made you dive right back into the kiss, your mouths moving in tandem, fueled by hunger and affection, the greed you experienced bleeding through with ease. You barely caught a glimpse of the lightshow going on around you, far too busy making sure your girlfriend got the New Year’s kiss of a lifetime. You could feel her smile against your lips, a small chuckle slipping from you between kisses. You’d never felt such bliss in your life, your heart beating erratically in your chest, trying desperately to feel all that it was feeling. Natasha’s body burned with the joy and excitement she felt, a few more pecks getting littered all over your mouth before she pulled away to clear out her dizzy head.

“Is it bad that I kind of want to go home?” You asked slyly, the smirk on your face telling Natasha of where the night was headed.

“Not at all, malyshka (baby).” She chuckled knowingly. “Not at all.” Your eyes moved to the fireworks around you, both of you admiring them for the short moment that you managed to spend away from each other’s lips.

Hand in hand you left your spot by the riverbank and headed back home to make sure you started your year off right, you and Natasha’s incessant and playful giggles lasting all the way home and up into your bedroom.