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theshipsfirstmate · 3 years

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Black Widow Fic: No Time Left to Start Again

Post-BW, between the end and the post-credits. Yelena Belova faces life after The Snap.

No Time Left to Start Again (AO3 - wc: 4983)

She looks down to see her hands disintegrating -- fingers floating away like the wispy tufts of the dandelions that grew in their front yard in Ohio -- and Yelena thinks, Is this a cool way to die?

The question is still on her mind when she comes to, even though she’ll find out later that five years have passed since she started wondering.

She puts the pieces together as fast as she can, even though each one only makes the picture more grim. She learns she was lucky to be in the Widows’ safe house in Istanbul when it happened, even if the rancid smell of the rotted fridge makes her gag and there’s a hole in the ceiling and straight through the floor from a bathtub left running.

She learns that the best estimates say it was half of the population that floated away with her that day, and has now returned just as abruptly. The world wasn't ready for them to go, and it is even less prepared for them to return. Cities are plunged into chaos in an instant, governments and aid organizations just starting to steady themselves after half a decade of desolation get the rug pulled out from them once again.

She learns that her phone still works, even if internet service is shit, thanks to dwindling maintenance and overloaded servers. She learns that the Avengers are fighting a war for the fate of the universe (again), somewhere in upstate New York. And she learns, quickly, where she needs to go next.

“Малышка.”

Melina greets her at the gate with an unexpected softness -- so different than the last time -- and Yelena wonders if the woman has simply spent the last five years alone with her pigs, if they've felt any different than the twenty before. Then, Alexi steps out the door behind her, and she realizes that they have.

“So, neither of you…” Yelena starts to ask as they let her in, though she doesn't really have to. She can see the years on them both, and for a moment, she's a child with a family once again.

My mother is going grey at her temples. My father's glasses are thicker than they used to be.

They both have deeper crinkles at the corners of their eyes and Yelena finds herself hoping that it’s laughter that’s left them there.

“For five years we've been on our own,” Alexi answers, but he can't help himself a little smirk before he continues, “and moss grows fat on a rolling stone.”

He doesn't smell so bad this time, when he wraps her in a bear hug. Mercifully, he's shaved and taken to civilian clothes -- she decides to keep to herself how much she dislikes his new handlebar mustache.

“You did?” Melina guesses, and Yelena nods her agreement into Alexi’s chest before he relents and lets her go.

When she turns back to face the question, she finds herself on the receiving end of a look that feels equal parts discerning and maternal. That too, she remembers from her childhood.

“Are you alright?”

“I seem to be,” Yelena answers, gesturing down to her hands, tangible once more. There won't be an answer that satisfies the woman scientifically, she’ll have to be proof enough. “I don't remember any of it.”

What she truly doesn't expect from Melina is a hug, and it's even more surprising when it’s fiercer and longer than Alexi’s. A beat too long, Yelena realizes slowly. Alexi turns away when she tries to meet his eye, and her stomach turns over with dread.

Something else has happened. Something she doesn't know yet. Something worse.

“The report came over my comms just an hour or so before you got here,” Melina says softly, an arm reaching up to stroke the back of Yelena’s head, just like she did when she was a toddler. “It's over. The Avengers have won.”

There's the sound of splintering wood and both women step back sharply, turning to see Alexi clutching a handful of splinters that used to be the back of a dining room chair. He drops them to the ground and strides back out the door, pointedly not looking at either of them, and Yelena tastes bile in the back of her mouth.

“What else?” She tries and fails to stop herself from asking the question. It comes out on a choked kind of half-breath.

“Tony Stark is dead.” Melina answers, dropping her eyes, an uncharacteristic waver in her voice. “And it's been... harder to confirm, but we are almost certain that Natasha is too.”

In the Red Room, after the treatments, there would be a buzzing in your ears for days, like static from an old radio. Widows in training were known to be disciplined after missing commands, and would do their best to shake it off as quickly as possible, but Yelena sometimes welcomed the fuzzy silences, the chance to try and focus inward, no matter how painful.

This is nothing like that.

This is a heartbreak in a cry, a desperate, wailing sound that builds and builds, cutting through the quiet isolation of the farm compound like a knife. It's only when it gets muffled by Melina wrapping her up in her arms once more, that Yelena realizes she's the one making it.

“Малышка,” her mother whispers again -- my baby -- and Yelena can’t tell if it’s meant for her or not.

They sit around the table again that night, but dinner consists only of vodka and memories and they all try -- and fail -- not to notice the empty chair closest to the windows, the one with the broken back.

“Oh, I hated that blue hair!” Melina admits with a watery chuckle, paging through the photo album when their second bottle is nearly gone. “But she was so good at getting what she wanted.”

“You know, I begged her to dye mine too,” Yelena shares, recalling a long-forgotten memory that means something completely different now. “She said no, that she wouldn't let me be spoiled.”

Alexi interrupts the reverie before she goes too deep, laughter overtaking him as he pokes at Melina’s arm. “I remember the night she did it. You came to bed and you were so fed up, you cried! She made you cry!”

“And I punched you for laughing at me, do you remember that too?” Melina fires back, swatting his hand away.

When she was old enough to realize what had happened to her as a child, Yelena remembers scouring her memories for real moments, signs of genuine affection between the family she hadn’t known enough to question. It was difficult then, to believe any of it had been real. But sometimes now, it's not so hard.

“The only reason I was glad we left when we did, was because I knew I could never have handled her as a teenager,” Melina muses then, but there's little humor left in her voice. Yelena wonders if her face darkens in the same way as her mother’s when they think of that day on the airstrip.

It's quiet for a long moment, but Alexi never stops looking at Melina. Yelena's head is heavy from liquor and tears and she rests it on folded arms as she watches them. (Sometimes, it's not so hard to believe.)

“You didn't want to go,” her father says, low and mournful. “I should have listened.”

“You followed the orders,” her mother answers. “What was the alternative? They would have killed us and taken the girls back if we had made even one misstep.”

None of them had a way out, Yelena thinks, they never had. A super soldier and a Widow, weapons both, with daughters destined to follow in their footsteps. Maybe that's still true. Maybe there is no peace when all you've ever known is war.

But they'd had each other.

“It was real,” she murmurs, as her eyes drift closed. “Natasha said it was real.”

-----

A public memorial for Tony Stark is held on the National Mall. Steve Rogers is consecrated at the Smithsonian, again. But no one seems to know quite what to do about Natasha Romanov. The Black Widow, the female Avenger, the Russian-born assassin, only claimed by America, it seemed, when they wanted to accuse her of treason.

Still, Yelena flies to Washington DC, half-curious and half-desperate to burn off the fog she’s been wandering around in since Melina’s suspicions had been confirmed.

Captain America, the new one, had announced the events on a world-wide broadcast -- making a point to mention Natasha by name, Yelena had noticed -- and so she heads to the museum first, though she's not entirely sure what she hopes to learn. The Avengers have saved the world several times over, but those conflicts are usually reduced to heroic platitudes when it comes to the public, and she expects this to be no different.

She's mostly right, but the exhibit is worth it for a few glimpses of Natasha fighting alongside the Captain, scattered throughout the pictures and video of the Avengers’ years together. That's how she finds herself in a darkened theater, watching a compilation of newsreel footage, broadcasts and shaky cell phone shots, the valiant timeline of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.

She feels him sit down beside her, catches the glint of metal in the sleeve of his leather jacket before she can even clock his face. Her nerves are instinctively on edge, but if he came for combat, they’d already be in it, so she stays still and quiet, waiting to follow his lead.

“ты сестра?” he asks softly. You're the sister?

Yelena turns to face him, the question and answer on her lips. But the Winter Soldier speaks again before she does.

“She showed me the pictures once. From when you were kids.”

Yelena couldn't count them if she tried, the nights she spent in the Red Room, rubbing a finger along the torn seam of her photo strip, willing the thought that Natasha was out there somewhere, holding the other half, to be enough to comfort her enough to sleep.

She turns away before he can see the tears in her eyes, but it’s no use -- they’re there in her throat when she speaks.

“They didn't even know her.” She nods back to the crowded museum and hopes he can grasp her meaning. There’s no way Natasha can be properly memorialized by government officials, who knew her as little more than a recon file, or the adoring public, who only thought of her when the world was ending.

“She liked it that way.” He means it as a comfort, but still, it makes Yelena flinch.

He notices, and she knows he understands when he tries again. “They were never gonna do her justice.”

The world never would, never could, Yelena thinks. A spy. A sister. A survivor. A lost girl, who fought her whole life for the kind of peace she’d never allow herself. These are not the people who get parades in their honor, holidays in their name.

“I will,” she says, and the stubborn tears win their battle, spilling down her cheeks. “I will do her justice.”

The Winter Soldier nods, with as much of a smile as he seems to allow himself. “I hope you will.”

Then he's gone, back the way he came, and Yelena thinks it's time to leave this city, with its buttoned-up bureaucracy and privatized secrets.

She doesn't care much about the Stark memorial, but skirts around the periphery on her way back to the airfield, catching a glimpse of the enormous photos and expensive-looking displays.

Natasha’s in these too, off to the side or just out of focus. It's starting to wear on her, the way these people seem to barely even notice the Black Widow, how quick they are to disregard one of their greatest heroes because she didn't fly or transform or wield some mystical weapon.

Shouldn’t that have made her even more impressive?

She's standing in front of a tribute to the Battle of New York just beside the bridge, weighing that unanswerable question, hands clenched unconsciously to fists, when Valentina finds her.

“I've been looking for you.” It sounds more like a taunt. I found you.

Yelena scoffs. “Probably a bad idea, if you know anything about me.”

“Oh, babe, believe me. I know plenty,” the woman answers, offering up that ridiculous name, a business card and a tone that's too familiar for Yelena's liking.

She's not to be trusted. That would be clear even to the Red Room’s youngest and most naive recruit. But it's this gleeful performance of espionage, or maybe villainy, that keeps Yelena from writing her off entirely. From the outfit to the attitude, she's either insane or untouchable. Or both.

And then: “So I have some… let's call it interesting information about your sister.”

Yelena clenches her fists tighter, digging her fingernails into her palm. “I don't believe you.”

Valentina seems to anticipate this, and is already reaching into her bag at the answer. She pulls out a thin, soft-bound book, printed with colorful block lettering: Parkside Elementary School, ‘95-’96.

Instantly, Yelena feels like someone's tightening a vice around her ribcage. “No.”

The woman shrugs, with that haughty grin she's already starting to loathe. “See for yourself.”

She flips it open, turning only a few pages to find the first grade classes, and there she is. Six years old. An innocent smile on her face and a fake last name beneath her picture. Orange juice spots on the collar of her shirt -- Melina had scolded her when they brought the photos home.

“How did you get this?” Even if it's a fake, it was done by someone who knows far too much.

“Well, you don't trust me, so I won't bother telling you,” Valentina snaps, taking the book back before she can look for Natasha. “Let’s call it proof that I know a lot of people who have been keeping a lot of secrets.”

Yelena tries to look unimpressed, dropping her shaking hands to her sides when she realizes they're giving her away. “You and me both.”

“Ha! No kidding,” Valentina replies. It's not actually a laugh. “That's exactly why we're gonna work so well together.”

Maybe it's the grief clouding her judgement or residual conditioning left over in her frontal lobe. Maybe it's the unspoken threat to the rest of her family. Or maybe she was just born for this -- a soldier like her father, an assassin like her mother. Whatever it is, Yelena can feel herself agreeing to Valentina’s “offer” before she's even made it explicit.

“We'll start you out small,” the woman assures, but she knows better than to be comforted. “How do you feel about some light arson? There’s some documents and hard drives at a warehouse in Bethesda that need disappearing.”

“Fine,” Yelena answers, ears already buzzing, as a small voice in her head sings along. Fire is the devil's only friend.

-----

When the money from her first job comes in, she buys an old Chevy C/K and drives to Akron, with a useless hope to disappear again. She's lucky enough to find a modest apartment with a kind neighbor who's always happy to dogsit, which becomes a blessing -- Valentina’s demands only increase as the corners of her fake smile tighten.

But it's enough. Enough that when Yelena thinks about home, she can once again think of Ohio.

Not long after, Alexi and Melina keep a promise she’d asked them to make, and return for a few days. She picks them up at the airfield, and drives to the spot she and Fanny found on one of their long walks together -- under the trees that are just starting to blossom with pink flowers.

Alexi lifts the heavy gravestone from the back of the truck and places it at the end of a row, under a tree, where the ground can't be dug up anyway.

“Toughest girls in the world,” Yelena hears him murmur as he runs his hand over the inscription.

Melina hasn't spoken much since they landed. Yelena thought at first that she didn't want to come back, but when she closes her eyes and takes in a deep, shuddering breath as they stand facing the grave marker, she understands that it isn't that at all.

“Big girl,” her mother begins with an uncharacteristic, watery softness, and Yelena is transported back to another lifetime once again. “I’m so sorry...”

There might be more to say, but the long, mournful silence is broken by the sound of another car pulling up. All three of them go on alert, until Yelena spots a familiar flash of metal from the driver's side.

“не волнуйся,” she says, still stepping defensively in front of her mother. “It’s OK.”

The Winter Soldier -- Sergeant Barnes, she reminds herself -- parks and exits quickly, moving to the rear of the car to help an elderly man step out and straighten himself.

He isn't what Yelena expected, but once he's at full posture, it's impossible not to recognize him. He's the man from the news, the internet, all the posters — give or take a few decades.

“Captain America.” Under normal circumstances, she might chuckle at Alexi’s awed whisper.

“Forgive us for interrupting,” the Captain says by way of a greeting. He sounds like him, too, so it must be true. “And, in advance, for not explaining. I just… I thought both of her families should be here.”

“If that's OK,” Barnes adds with a look, first at Captain Rogers, then back at the family.

Yelena nods her acceptance, but feels her heart sink a little when Melina turns back silently to face the gravestone. Only Alexi steps forward, extending his arm, first to the captain, then to his comrade.

“Alexi Shostakov,” he offers. “You probably don’t…”

“The Red Guardian,” Captain Rogers interrupts, and Yelena tries not to let her eyes go wide as they shake hands proudly. “The Soviet super soldier. Of course I know who you are.”

Alexi puffs his chest up for just a moment, and gives himself a pleased nod, before returning to Melina’s side. It's proof of his grief, Yelena thinks, that that's the end of it.

Then it's her turn. “You must be Yelena.”

“Captain.” She nods once and then twice, looking past him. “Sergeant.”

“Buck mentioned you two had run into each other in Washington,” the older man says with a well-worn, knowing smile.

“I would say we're glad to have you,” she offers as a reply, “but now I'm mostly worried that I'm not covering my tracks as well as I should.”

“Don't worry about that,” Captain Rogers replies, with a shake of his head. “I had to call in multiple favors to find you. Big ones, too.”

“Well then,” she sighs, “I guess I should say I'm sorry you went through all that trouble.”

Another small smile, and then the captain steps closer, lowering his voice almost conspiratorially. It strikes her that, while he's likely still one of the most powerful men in the universe, there's nothing about him that feels threatening to her.

“I don't know if you've noticed,” he tells her, “but I'm getting up there in years. Why don't you save us both a lot of time from now on, and only bother saying what you mean.”

He means it as a kindness, Yelena can tell, but there's only one question she wants to ask, and it's screaming in her mind like a klaxon horn.

“Will you...” she begins, stopping to swallow when her throat turns to sandpaper. “Will you tell us what happened?”

“Yelena,” Melina says sharply, and she almost takes it back. But she knows the curiosity will eat her from the inside out if she doesn't take the chance now, when it's literally right in front of her.

“No, I want to know,” she tells her mother before turning back and steeling herself once again. “I want the truth.”

Captain Rogers purses his lips and tilts his head, like he's seeing something different in her now.

“You really are her sister, aren't you?” he muses.

She scoffs, almost reflexively. “There's no family resemblance, if that's what you mean.”

“Isn't there?” She hears Alexi chuckle softly behind her and makes a mental note to elbow him in the ribs later. One super soldier at a time.

“Please,” she asks again, and the twinkle leaves Captain Rogers' eye as he nods solemnly.

“Natasha sacrificed herself to retrieve the last of the Infinity Stones.” Yelena only understands part of that sentence, and she's not sure if it's the important part.

“The stones were the key to bringing everyone back, to defeating Thanos once and for all,” he explains. “We made a plan, as a team. We each had our assignments, but we didn't know the cost.”

The cost, it's evident now, had been Natasha, and it grates again at Yelena that all the other Avengers had returned from this mission for their final battle, while her sister’s sacrifice had merely been part of the unknowable set up.

But Captain Rogers continues, and she finds consolation in the fact that at least he doesn't take Natasha's death lightly, not in the slightest.

“I went back, after,” he reveals, sounding close to tears. “I tried-- I tried like hell to get her back. I never should have let her go.”

“You wouldn't have been able to stop her.” Melina’s voice comes out of nowhere; even she seems surprised to have spoken. But they all nod at the truth.

“Clint said he-- she wouldn't let him go in her place,” Rogers adds. He’s turning something over in his hands, but when Yelena looks closer, it seems to be just a simple pack of bubble gum. “She was just too…”

His eyes, cast towards the sky, return to their group, and he speaks first to Alexi, and then to Melina. Yelena reaches out for her mother's hand, and it's taken with a fierce squeeze.

“I'm not sure I ever really understood her until now,” the Captain says. “I thought her strength, her heart, who she was, was in spite of what she'd been through. But I know now, it was because of it.”

Yelena’s eyes have blurred with tears, but she can see him turn to her next. “We fought that war for her,” he adds. “And I think she fought it for you.”

It's the eulogy Natasha deserves, the one none of them could have hoped to give, and it feels both fitting and unfathomable that it comes from Captain America, of all people.

They sit in it for a moment, each thinking of Natasha in their own way, until the silence is broken by two people speaking in unison -- perhaps the two that understood her best.

“She would have hated this,” Yelena mumbles, only realizing after a moment that Barnes had said the same thing.

A reserved chuckle rumbles through the five of them, and then a deep, forgiving breath. It’s time to go.

But Yelena drops Melina’s hand as the rest of them turn back for the road, suddenly unable to move. She can’t pull her eyes away from the grave, stuck staring at a legacy that makes her feel six years old again, a metaphorical pair of shoes she'll never be able to fill.

When she doesn't hear either car start, she expects maybe Captain Rogers or Alexi, but surprisingly, it's Barnes who returns to her side.

“I haven't… I didn't make a speech or anything,” she admits, gesturing at the stone with her sister’s name and titles, and willing him, once again, to understand the feelings she can’t put into words. “I don't know what to say to her.”

He's quiet for a moment, and when he speaks it's lower than she’s expecting, like he’s drawing the words from somewhere deep. “Nat never shared much with us,” he tells her. “I understood that. It's hard to talk about memories you don't think you deserve to miss.”

Yelena knows she’s felt that too, that kind of arrested nostalgia. And she’s seen it in the Widows she recovered before the snap. It's not a surprise that the Winter Soldier could understand it as well -- what it’s like to be freed from a prison in your own mind, but constantly aware of how easily that door could slam closed on you once again.

“She wouldn't care what you say here,” he continues. “She would care what you do out there.”

Suddenly, Yelena wonders if his heightened senses include a bullshit detector, if he can somehow see the marionette strings Valentina has looped around her conscience.

“I might have lied to you when we met,” she admits, telling him as much of the truth as she can muster. “I'm not sure I know how to do her justice.”

“I think you do,” he answers. “Even if it’s hard. Even if it takes a while.”

She turns to face him, and he’s staring at the gravestone like he can see something more than the paltry words they had paid someone to carve in Natasha’s memory.

“Nat was haunted by the red in her ledger, but she also thought it was what made her a good Avenger. She thought it made her fearless, unbreakable.” Yelena looks down and watches the metal of Barnes’ bionic hand curl into a fist, and then release. “But I'll take a wild guess that she was fearless before that, wasn't she?”

Through the years of mind control and conditioning, Yelena has never forgotten the feeling of Natasha’s arm wrapped around her back on that airstrip in Cuba, screaming and threatening men twice her size to try and keep them both safe.

“You may not know what to do now. You might feel like the things you've done, or the things you want to do, have set your future in stone,” Barnes continues, cutting through the haze of her memories.

“But there's gonna be a moment, maybe in the future, maybe soon, when you're faced with a choice. And in that moment, if you choose to be the person she thought you could be, that'll do her justice.”

Yelena looks up and Barnes’ eyes are there to meet now. Whatever he knows, it’s enough.

“Thank you for coming,” she tells him. “Truly. And thank you for bringing the Captain.”

“Couldn't keep him away,” the man admits, with his little half-smile. “The two of them...I think that was as close as they let themselves get to anybody. I know he’ll always blame himself, but I hope this helped.”

Yelena nods her goodbye, thinking idly, mournfully, about the way Natasha never gave any thought to her future -- wondering if that’s something she and her teammates had shared. But as Barnes returns to his car, the back window rolls down and Captain Rogers flags her down with something dark and folded in his hand.

“I found this with her things on the quinjet,” he says as she approaches the window, and her throat is tightening with new tears before he can finish, before she can even reach out to touch the familiar fabric. “Thought maybe you might want it. It’s pretty nice, it’s got a lot of pockets.”

-----

When she returns Melina and Alexi to the airfield a few days later, it's the most Yelena has felt like a real person in a long time, maybe the whole of her adult life.

“You’ll come to visit, yes?” Alexi asks, but his raised eyebrow tells her it's more of an order than a request.

“I will.”

“Come for Christmas!” he booms as he climbs out of the truck. “I will tell Santa Claus where to find you.”

Melina doesn't follow him out the passenger door right away, turning back to face her and looking for all the world like a typical worrisome mother.

“Yelena…”

“мама, I'll be fine,” she promises, trying not to hear how hollow it sounds.

“I know you will. But please, watch out for yourself.” Yelena’s stomach knots at the memory of Melina telling Natasha the very same. That was the last time they were all together, she recalls. It always will be.

“And if you need us,” Melina adds, “just come home, where it’s safe. OK?”

It's something about the way she says it that steals Yelena's planned reply from her lips. She doesn't want to lie, not now.

So she ducks forward, pressing her head against her mother’s and willing them both a little bit of peace.

“You are the best of us. Strong like your father, smart like your mama,” Melina whispers. “And like Natasha, through everything, you’ve kept your heart.”

Yelena pulls back then, swiping at her eyes, unable to stop herself from asking. “You don’t think that’s a weakness?”

“Maybe, at one time,” Melina admits. “But now, I think it’s lucky. Because now, you have a place to carry her.”

She can do that, at least, Yelena promises herself, reaching down to tug instinctively at the hem of her vest. Natasha died for them, and so she can live for her. She can do her justice.

“Stay safe, Малышка,” Melina says again, kissing her on the cheek before climbing out and following Alexi towards the runway. They two of them turn back to wave before boarding their jet, and Yelena’s heart knocks in her chest to remind her. That’s my family.

She puts the truck in gear and is pulling out to the main road, brushing away a few stray tears, when she notices it. A cassette, half-ejected from her ancient tape deck, with a Post-it stuck to the end.

She peels off the note and grins at the mismatched handwriting -- “Love, Mom. And Dad,” both in Cyrillic -- before pressing the tape in and starting to sing along.

“A long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile…”

#first mate fic #black widow fic #yelena belova #yelena belova fic #black widow spoilers #black widow #natasha romanoff #romanogers (if you squint)#post-bw

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lovergurrl411 · 4 years

Photo

I’m all here for the Stony, but can we just embrace for a second the fact that in an Alternate Universe, Steve married someone named Natasha?? I feel like this one image gave me everything I needed–Stony AND Romanogers. *happy sigh*

**17 days till Valentine’s Day**

#stony #stony au #romanogers #romanogers au #if you squint #17 days untill valentine's day #my happy place #marvel comics #mcu goals #avengers

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bonneyq · 5 years

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Worthy

Summary: I was on Twitter and saw @mollyhernandez say: "CAN SOMEBODY WRITE A FIC WHERE NATASHA SHOWS UP AND LIFTS THE MJOLNIR IN THE FINAL BATTLE" Well, I did it, with a couple of bonus scene and I hope you enjoy it!

It’s a litte bit of an Endgame fix-it, maybe, but I think we need a little closure and this helped me a lot.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #romanogers #if you squint i mean #avengers endgame #avengers endgame fix it #peter parker #tony stark #NATASHA DESERVED THE WORLD MY SWEET BABY

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raina16 · 5 years

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Soul Stone

I just read an article I happened to come across on fandom.com that was talking about the multi verse thing(written before the new clips from Far From Home I think) and they mentioned something that was said during the IW press tour by the Russos - that when Thanos took the Soul Stone it set Red Skull free from his role as guardian. So IF, imagining IF, that still holds, then when Nat died and Clint got the Soul Stone, Red Skull could have been set free from the Guardian role.

Now what would happen when Steve replaces the Soul Stone? Does Red Skull get put back in the role after ten seconds of freedom? Is Red Skull already free and someone else in his place? If so who? Is Red Skull just coming to like “What the hell, where the hell am I? Where is that bastard Captain America!! I must kill him”(and wow lo and behold he shows up just that second)

Supposedly putting the Stone back can’t bring Natasha back(though really nothing has happened on screen yet with the Soul Stone so we don’t know for sure, I’m just saying future writers can do whatever they want, at least until someone actually puts something on screen that would make them unable to do so) but what does happen? Is Red Skull still there as I said above, is someone else in his place? Could it even possibly be Natasha?(could that in some way lead to a way to free her?)

Really what happens with putting back any of the stones - in some cases that would not be easy to do.

Steve needs to sneak into Camp Lehigh again to put the Space Stone back(possibly the easier of the returns),

He needs to return the scepter with the Mind Stone, after he’s just had a fight with himself and said Hail Hydra to do it. Does he just leave it next to his mind whammied self on the floor? In that reality Loki has escaped with the Space Stone, there is already an AU timeline so he does he just say “hey let this Steve find his Bucky, let him find out about Hydra without being sideswiped with it” and say “I’m not Loki, Hydra has infiltrated SHIELD, I let them think you were in on it, use that to find info, and Bucky has been brainwashed by them and used against his will all these years?” and pops off back into time and hopes that this version of himself believes it.

He needs to return the Time Stone to the Ancient One which could be an interesting conversation. She sees all the possibilities, she may tell him he should be doing something else and NOT going to the Prime Timeline yet for all we know.

Steve needs to somehow get to Asgard, sneak around Asgard and replace the Reality Stone Ether into Jane(could be interesting if he meets Frigga there if she’s on the lookout for something odd in that moment in time given Thor was just there and a mess and she also sees he has Thor’s hammer).

He needs to get to Morag to replace the Power Stone on the unconscious Peter Quill which could be easy, might not be easy given there were unsavory characters around.

Then probably finally comes the Soul Stone and I can’t see that one going down easily as said above with the complications of Red Skull possibly being set free from his guardianship and Natasha’s death/whatever else might be going on.

I just really don’t think it’s all as simple and straight forward as Steve waltzes through the timelines returning the stones and then goes off to live with Peggy. I think he gets a happy life somewhere along the line, as they said, it may even be with Peggy, doesn’t mean it was all an easy one, but I think there was more involved to it. I mean if the MCU never follows up on it, it could be but I just think it makes sense that returning the Stones was not actually a walk in the park.

#Steve Rogers #Captain America #Endgame #avengers endgame #endgame spoilers #avengers endgame spoilers #natasha romanoff #romanogers #if you squint #black widow

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thelonelybrilliance · 7 years

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A little birthday fic for Steve Rogers. It’s about as fluffy as I ever get ;)

#my fanfic #romanogers #if you squint #steve rogers #marvel #mcu #natasha romanoff #avengers: age of ultron

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spideychelleforever · 4 years

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Peter: *takes his shirt off*

MJ: *squints, eying him in approval*

MJ: I wish I was that fit

Peter: Aww, MJ! You don’t have to look like me because you’re already so be-

MJ: ACK stop-stop-stop you dork! *covering her face*

Peter: Wait-what?

MJ: *still covering her face* You-you can’t just do that out of nowhere, you dork!

Peter: Do what?

MJ: Smile at me and tell me I’m beautiful SIMULTANEOUSLY with you having your shirt off it’s-it’s too much *groans as she lets one hand down to take his hand and kiss it.. then go back to covering her face with both hands* stoooop

Peter: :O

Peter: :)

Tagging: my crush @you-guys--are-losers my love @spiderman-homecomeme my dear @theslytherinterran @spideyxchelle @spideychellefics @spideychelle-romanogers @here-be-spideychelle @peterjonesparker @suplosers @lovely-iris-west-allen @wandrlust-stark @acastleintheair @miranduh1 @thorongil82 @seek-rest @sodafizzyart

#peter x michelle #michelle jones #michelle jones x peter parker #spideychelle #spideychelle is canon #spideychelle headcanon #peter parker x michelle jones #tom holland #zendaya coleman #zendaya #mj #peter parker #tomdaya forever #tomdaya

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marshunter06 · 5 years

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Who Needs a Compass When You’re Already Home?

So @thedioselyn15marquezmarvel gave me an idea and I decided to write it. Please note that the romanogers daughter is all hers, I’m just borrowing her for the purposes of this short fic (?)

It was an accident, at least that’s what she needs her father to think it was. Truth be told, ten year old Yelena wasn’t sorry at all about what she just did. She’ll probably need a bandaid for the small cut on her toe from one of the stray glass pieces, but she would live. She looks down at what she has just done and within a few seconds, panic ensures. What has she done? Daddy is going to be furious with her! As soon as the thought enters her mind, it’s quickly replaced with anger. So what? He doesn’t need the stupid compass anyways. Doesn’t he know how upset it makes Mommy every time he looks at it? This was all his fault anyways. He shouldn’t have kept the stupid picture in the first place. Who even is this Aunt Peggy? She much preferred her cool Aunt Sharon who was always supportive of her mother. After justifying her actions, she decides to leave the mess for her dad to find.

Natasha walks into their bedroom intending on taking a nap while the kids were away at school. She barely gets two steps into the door before she notices the glass shards on the floor. It was from the compass. She feels a mix of emotions at the sight. She knows Steve didn’t do this, he could never part with the damn thing. It was important to him; how could she ask him to get rid of it when she knows how much it means to him. She lets out a sigh before she begins the clean up process. She picks up each shard individually and the compass that was broken in half. She probably should have used a broom, but the thought of just simply sweeping away all those important memories that Steve tries so hard to hold onto just didn’t feel right. She had just finished picking up all the pieces when her husband walks into the room.

“Hey Nat… what happened?”

“I’m not sure, but we should be able to get it fixed.”

“How did this even happen? We were all downstairs except…”

“Steve?”

“She was really mad at me this morning. I don’t even know why…”

“I’ll talk to her when she gets back from school. Why don’t you go see if you can get this fixed?”

…

As soon as Yelena got home from school she knew she was in trouble. Her siblings were nowhere to be found and her dad was also conveniently missing. Her mother greeted her with a smile and asked for her to go to her room so they could have a nice chat.

“So my little spider, you wanna tell me what happened?”

She doesn’t dare meet her mother’s eyes. She’s made her upset, she thought for sure it would be Daddy who would be having this talk with her.

“I’m sorry…”

“Why did you do it Yelena? You know how much Daddy cherishes his compass.”

“But why? It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Peggy was an important person in his life.”

“But he has you! He has us! Why can’t he just let go? Are we not enough?”

“Don’t ever think that sweetheart, your father loves you very much.”

“Not enough to let that lady go… Mommy, I know it hurts you too… it’s not right…”

Natasha shouldn’t have been surprised at her daughter’s response, but there it was, she’s much more observant than she gets credit for. She doubts Steve even noticed how she felt about him keeping that old photo of Peggy.

“Oh my little spider, you really are mommy’s little girl. Try to think of it this way, it’s like Mommy’s arrow necklace. You know your Uncle Clint is important to me, just as how Peggy was important to your Dad.”

“I guess… I still don’t like it though. Daddy doesn’t get upset at your necklace.”

“That’s because your Uncle Clint is a goofball.”

They both laugh at that. It seems to bring both of their moods up and a tickle fight ensures. While they were busy chasing each other with tickles, Steve was listening at the door. He had no idea how just a simple picture was making his family upset. Later that night while they were in bed, he decides to confront Natasha about it.

“You know I love you Nat.”

“Of course I do, and I love you.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Steve… how could I? She was your first love. The one who got away.”

“She may have been, but you’re who I choose. You’re the one I love. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that keeping the picture would hurt you.”

“It was the only one you had of her, I wouldn’t ask you to get rid of that.”

“Maybe it’s time for a change. I love you and only you Natasha. I wouldn’t trade our family for the world.”

The next morning when the whole family is up and at the breakfast table, Steve offers to take Yelena to school. She reluctantly agrees, knowing she would have to face the consequences for what she did. She grabs her helmet ready to hop on her dad’s motorcycle when he stops her.

“What direction is your school again kiddo?”

“Five miles southwest.”

“Better make sure we’re headed the right way.”

He pulls out his newly fixed compass and squints. Yelena frowns. He already had it fixed.

“I think I’m getting too old, can you help me out sweetheart?”

He passes her the compass, her eyes widen in surprise and she breaks out in a smile. The picture was no longer of the lady she didn’t know, instead, it was of their family.

AN- Thanks for the inspiration! Hopefully I didn’t ruin your character. You have great ideas, it would be rad if you decided to write too! (:

#romanogers #low key this reminds me of my own WIP FaL #if anyone else has other ideas I’m down to listen #inspo credit to @thedioselyn15marquezmarvel #inspo credit

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yelena-bellova · 5 years

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Let Me Go - Steve/Natasha Fanfic

Summary: Steve and Natasha go to Vormir to collect the soul stone, not knowing what sacrifices will have to be made in order to claim it. Requested by anon: Can you write a romanogers fic where instead of nat & clint at vormir, it’s nat & steve instead :) thank you! Warnings: lots of angst, INTENSE HEARTBREAK, endgame spoilers and character death… Word Count: 2,974 Note: This one WRECKED ME. I actually almost cried writing it, and yet I simultaneously loved getting to write it. I took dialogue from both Infinity War and Endgame but tweaked some scenes to reflect Steve and Nat’s friendship…I wrote it platonically, but if you squint you can read it as a romantic thing…Good luck, and don’t hate me! “I’ll bet the raccoon didn’t have to climb a mountain.” Steve and Natasha begrudgingly trudged up the snowy mountain. Nobody on the team had ever seen the soul stone or where it laid, so the trek they had to make had come as an unwelcome surprise. They had almost reached the top and while the super soldier was perfectly fine, Natasha had broken a sweat and was trying to regain her breath.

“Technically he’s not a raccoon.” Steve quipped.

“Oh whatever, he eats garbage…” she remarked.

Before Steve could let out a laugh, a haunting voice spoke up from a dark corner under a rocky overpass.  “Welcome,”  Steve took a stance and held up his shield. Natasha cocked her gun and pointed it towards the unknown voice. A hooded figure began to float out of the darkness towards the pair.  “Natasha, daughter of Ivan.”  Closer and closer he moved, his face still hidden. But the more the figure spoke, Steve’s blood began to boil…He could never forget that voice.  “Steven, son of Sarah.”

“Who are you?” Natasha asked unflinchingly.

“Consider me a guide to you and to all who seek the soul stone.”  “Oh, good.” Natasha retorted, her voice filled with doubt that whoever or whatever was underneath the cloak was anything close to friendly. Steve still hadn’t moved, he stood frozen in place trying to keep almost 80 years of rage under control.  “You tell us where it is then we’ll be on our way.”  The figure moved closer towards them, finally revealing his face. To Natasha, he may have just been a demonic looking creature but to Steve, he was a pure evil taking form in a man who had plagued his nightmares for years.

“Oh, if only it were that easy.” Red Skull said.  “How the hell are you still alive?” Steve demanded through gritted teeth. Natasha looked to him,  “You know this guy?”  “Unfortunately, the Captain and I share a…painful history.” Red Skull explained, never breaking eye contact with his old nemesis.  “It’s about to get real painful real fast if you don’t start explaining.” Steve hissed.

Natasha broke her stare towards Red Skull and looked to Steve. Rarely ever had she seen her friend so angry, clearly this guy and Steve had crossed some very unfriendly paths before…

“A lifetime ago, I too sought the stones. You remember, Captain Rogers. I even held one in my hand, but it cast me out. Banished me here, guiding others to a treasure I cannot possess.” the dark figure explained solemnly. Steve remembered the experience Red Skull was explaining all too well...

He stood at ease, but kept his shield on his wrist, ready to strike the man. Natasha slowly lowered her gun, taking her cue from Steve. Red Skull proceeded to float down a path, they followed hesitantly. He led them to a stoney cliff, Red Skull stopped and let them go forward to peer over the edge.

“What you seek lies in front of you, as does what you fear.”

Natasha stared down into the dark abyss longer than Steve did, his priority at the moment was watching every move Red Skull made.

“The stone’s down there.” Natasha observed, unable to see the stone, but in her heart knowing it was there. Steve walked away from Red Skull to join her again, looking down as if expectant the stone would float out of the darkness up to them.  “For one of you. For the other,” Red Skull began,

“In order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love.”   Steve and Natasha both froze, her lips parting and his brows furrowing. Red Skull’s words may have spoken almost like a riddle, but they were smart enough to figure out what would be required of them. They were also desperate enough to hope they were both horribly wrong in their assumptions.

“An everlasting exchange.”   They both said a silent prayer that they were wrong.

“A soul”  No.  “For a soul.”

Steve broke from his position and turned to Red Skull, a look of unbelief and rage on his face. No. He had already lost his life once because of this monster, he wasn’t about to lose it again. Nor was he about to lose Natasha. Either he was lying or there was some loophole that they hadn’t figured out yet.  “You’re lying. Why would I trust a word that comes out of your mouth? ” Steve accused.

“Your words are ones I have heard for many years, Captain. But unfortunately, what I say is true.” Red Skull said.

Steve’s jaw clenched, part of him believed the former Nazi but the majority of him was hell-bent on denying what actions might need to be taken. He stalked back over to Natasha, who was now sitting on a rock, hunched forward and deep in thought.

“I still think he’s lying.” Steve fumed. She shook her head ever so slightly, still staring at whatever plan she’d made in her head that only she could see.

“No. I don’t think so.” she replied.

“Why, cause he knows your father’s name?” Steve asked, walking back towards the edge of the cliff to look over again.

“I didn’t.” Natasha muttered softly. Steve turned back and slowly walked towards her.

“Thanos left here with the stone, without his daughter. That’s not a coincidence.” she continued.  Natasha had always been the more pragmatic between the two of them, and she was always the one to make sense when Steve was too deep down his own rabbit hole. If she believed Red Skull, then there was probably no chance that he was lying. The realization of what needed to be done sank into Steve’s stomach and he began to feel sick. He managed to mumble a “Yeah…” before turning his eyes to the ground.  Natasha had already run a million scenarios through her head…She had only briefly gone through the denial that her Steve had. She had looked for any possible loophole, failing to come up with any scenarios where both of them walked away from this with the stone. While he was peering over the edge of the cliff, she had turned to look at him. Steve’s entire life was based upon sacrifice, she’d be damned if she was going to watch him make another.

But it wasn’t just him that was playing into her decision…She’d spent the past five years looking for ways to undo what Thanos had done. Preparing for any possible plan, just like the one they were part of now, that could result in bringing back everyone they’d lost. If she could play any part in reclaiming half the population, she wouldn’t give it a second thought.

She wouldn’t hesitate to throw herself off of that cliff so that Steve could walk away with the stone.  “Whatever it takes.” she stated, matter of factly.

Little did she realize that Steve had come to the same conclusion she had, only their roles were reversed.

“Whatever it takes.” he repeated.   Natasha stood up quickly from her seat to walk over to him, still standing in his place on the edge.

“If we don’t get that stone, billions of people stay dead.” she spoke.

Steve nodded solemnly, unable to look her in the eyes. He knew that what he was about to do would hurt her, but he couldn’t bear to let her make this sacrifice after everything she’d been through.  “Then I guess we both know who it’s gotta be.” he remarked.  “I guess we do.” she replied.

They shared a look of mutual understanding, only for Steve’s expression to change to confusion.  “I’m starting to think we mean different people here, Natasha.”  “For the last five years I’ve been trying to do one thing; get to right here. That’s all it’s been about, bringing everybody back.” she explained.  “No, don’t even think about it…” he ordered, his captain voice seeping through.

“What, you think I want to do it? I’m trying to save your life, you idiot.” she quipped.  Steve grabbed her wrist as if to prevent her from suddenly disappearing and also to steady himself.  “Well I don’t want you to.” he stated. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you do this when we both know it should be me?”   “Do you think I’m going to let you throw away your chance at the life you lost?” she remarked. She could see that Steve wasn’t following, so she explained further.  “We have the ability to time travel now. You can go back after this is all over. Take back the life you were robbed of, you can be with Peggy. Are you saying that you don’t want that?”   Steve could honestly say he hadn’t even considered the possibility about going back to the ’40s and restarting his life till Natasha had brought it up. Yes, after over a decade in the present, he still wished to return to his own time. Yes, not a day went by where he didn’t long to hold Peggy in his arms again. But he wasn’t about to let Natasha sacrifice herself just so he could be selfish.

“I couldn’t live that life knowing I sent an innocent person to her death just so I could have it.” he said, tears beginning to form in his steely eyes.

“I’m hardly innocent, Rogers. You know the things I’ve done.” she muttered, trying not to let her own tears spill out.

Steve opened his mouth to say that her past didn’t define her future, to tell her that she was a better person than she gave herself credit for, but Natasha put her hand on his arm and held tight, silencing him. Every emotion she was feeling she conveyed to him in her eyes. Her fear of death, her anger towards Thanos, her love for her family, but most importantly, her determination.

“Let me do this.” she whispered.

Steve had argued with her enough over to years to know that once she set her mind to something, there wasn’t a single person dead or alive who could talk her out of it. And that was what broke his heart the most…

It wouldn’t matter what he said, she was the one going over the edge.

He looked down at her hand on his arm, dropped his shield and placed his hand over hers. His finger tracing the back of her hand as if to memorize the warmth of it.  “You’re a pain in my ass. You know that?” he said, something that would have made both of them laugh in a different circumstance. She nodded, a flood of memories with Steve washing over her. She didn’t want to leave him, she didn’t want him to be alone…But if her laying down her life could give him Bucky, Sam and the chance to be with Peggy back, there was no question about it.

Steve wrapped his arms around her, she did the same, both of them trying to memorize the feeling of one another. They’d never admit it to one another, but they both shed silent tears into each other's shoulders. A decade of friendship and partnership about to end all to have a shot at a plan that wasn’t even guaranteed to succeed. They finally pulled apart from each other and Steve wiped a tear from her cheek,   “Okay, you win.”

Natasha nodded, as if to convince herself to begin moving towards the edge of the cliff. Steve gave her a small smile, but their touching moment turned sour quickly. Before she could take her first step, he whipped into action and pinned her to the ground.

Natasha may have been determined, but Steve was stubborn. And sometimes that was more dangerous than determination…  “Go get yourself that life.” he said, referring to the conversation they’d had back at the compound over a peanut butter sandwich. Before he could move, Natasha swiped his leg and flipped him on his back. Standing over a shellshocked Steve and pointing her widow’s bite cuff at his chest,

“You first.” she remarked. Firing the electric charge from her wrist, it hit Steve and caused him to let out a pained groan. Natasha turned away from him, took half a second to work up her courage, and started sprinting towards the edge of the cliff. No turning back now…But the incapacitating effects of her electric charge hadn’t lasted as long as she’d hoped and Steve was up on his feet as she took off. He grabbed his shield from the ground and launched it at her, hitting in the legs and knocking her to the ground. Natasha grunted and looked up from her spot, Steve began running but didn’t break eye contact with her. He wanted her to be the last thing he saw before his death, he wanted to die with his last thought being of Natasha living a happy life. He had almost made it to the edge of the cliff when he leaped into the air, making peace with the fact that he was about to die.

Until Natasha tackled him midair and they both began to free fall towards the bottom of the chasm.

Natasha fired her grappling hook to the side of the cliff, Steve gathering her in his arms to prevent her from letting herself go, and they both swung towards the side of the cliff. As they hit it, it knocked them both and Steve lost his full grip on Natasha. She rolled out of his arms and he frantically reached for her, managing to grasp her wrist. He examined the rope and looked down to his hip, the other end of the grappling hook attached to him so he couldn’t fall. For once when he looked down at her, Natasha looked genuinely scared. Scared that he was still going to find a way to make his own play, but also scared to let go of his hand.   “Damn you.” he grunted.

He reached down to her, trying to grab her other hand and pull her up, but he couldn’t reach out that far. He strained relentlessly, stretching his fingers as far as they could go. He groaned and grunted, but he still couldn’t reach her. The sad part was that Natasha wasn’t holding on to him, nor was she reaching out to grasp his other hand. Sadly, she had won their argument…There was no way for Steve to save her from this terrible fate. Her tear-filled eyes met his,  “Let me go…” she instructed, taking the softest tone she could with Steve. She knew that what she was about to do was going to plague him for the rest of his life. She would become the face he saw in his nightmares, she would become the ghost that would follow him around and he would forever blame himself for not doing more to try and save her.

But it was the only way…

Steve blinked away the tears, as he leaned towards her again in one last failed attempt to save her. He knew he couldn’t save her, but he couldn’t let her go either…  “No…No, please, no.”

Natasha stared up at him, giving him a small smile and nod through her own tears. As if granting him permission to let go, silently pleading with him to let her die…

“It’s okay.” her voice cracking as she reassured him that she had accepted her fate, but also that she would not hold it against him that he let go.

Steve let out a small sob, still refusing to let go of her wrist…  “Please…” he whimpered out.

At that moment, everything surrounding them disappeared. The winds silenced themselves, the snow stopped falling, it was just them. Two friends trying to convey ten years worth of feelings, memories, and things they had both decided were better left unsaid. This was the end of their journey together.

With a final grunt, Natasha pulled her arm out of Steve’s grasp and began free falling through the air.

“NO!” Steve cried out, forcing himself not to unclip the hook and dive after her. He watched his best friend’s body tumble through the air, turning away only for a second, then looking back. He was going to be with her till the very end, even if he could only do it from a distance.   As Natasha fell, she had a feeling of complete and total peace wash over her. She didn’t doubt for a second that the team would complete their plan and that everybody would be brought back to life. She wouldn’t be there to see it happen in real life, but she could see it perfectly in her mind. Her last thoughts were of Clint and his family, laughing and eating dinner in their kitchen. Tony and Pepper playing with their daughter. Vision holding Wanda in his arms. Sam and Bucky teasing and taunting each other relentlessly over a round of beers. And Steve. Steve dancing in a picturesque 1940’s living room, swaying to a soft song with the love of his life in his arms.

She smiled and closed her eyes, letting go for the second time.

The next thing Steve knew, he was awakening in a shallow pool of water. He scurried to his knees, looking around him for any sign of Red Skull, the stone, or Natasha...

Nothing. Nobody. No stone.

Had Natasha’s sacrifice been in vain? Had Red Skull truly been lying?

This was what Steve was beginning to believe until he looked down to his hand, the soul stone resting in it.

Steve had never experienced a more hollow victory.

Holding the stone in his hand, he pounded his fists against the water, and let himself fall apart.

They were one step closer to winning, but he had just suffered his greatest loss.

#marvel #avengers #endgame #avengers endgame #marvel fan fic #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction #Natasha romanoff #black widow #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #romanogers #romanogers fanfic #romanogers fanfiction #endgame fanfic

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cptn-stvngrntrgrs · 5 years

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can you do a post- endgame romanogers fic? Steve and Natasha are married for 2 years now and suddenly she becomes sick. She panics because it might be a late effect of the soul stone which Steve very much disagreed. They went to the doctors and found out she's carrying a child! Steve tells her that the soul stone might've probably healed her

hi anon! thank you for this - i had fun with it!!!

Title: I guess we got the better end of the bargain

Relationship: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff

Steve got Natasha back - soul for a soul indeed. But what they didn’t know was that Natasha got something back as well.

set post-Endgame and Nat and Tony are very much alive

Also posted on AO3!

Natasha woke up just as the sun started peeking in through the blinds. She blinked, feeling a bit too warm in Steve’s arms. He was still fast asleep, probably worn out from the mission he just came back from the night before. She terribly missed him - he was gone for two whole weeks, longer than he expected. It was the longest he’s been gone since the whole Thanos fiasco, and she has to admit that they were both pretty shaken up from it.

She wanted to stay in bed longer, to stay wrapped in his arms, but she wanted this morning to be a bit more special so she decided to just get up and make Steve some breakfast. She carefully wiggled herself out of his arms to not wake him up and made her way to the kitchen.

About half an hour later, just as Natasha was frying bacon, she felt his arms hug her from behind and his lips attach to her neck. “Good morning Mrs. Rogers,” he greeted, his voice husky and muffled by her skin.

“Good morning Mr. Rogers,” Natasha retorted, grinning and tilting her head to give him a swift kiss before turning back to flip the bacon.

“I missed you,” he whispered, still pressing kisses all over her neck.

“Mhm, I know - you made a pretty good point of showing me that last night,” she smirked.

Steve chuckled. “Want me to show you again?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, pushing him off her as she put the bacon on the plate. “It’s time for breakfast,” she walked towards the table and Steve followed her, pouting.

“Can we skip to dessert already?” he added, sweetly.

“Nope, breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” she teased, winking at him.

Steve filled her in about his mission over breakfast, with Natasha making occasional comments. They’re slowly rebuilding SHIELD up, with Maria Hill as the new Director. The Avengers are helping her with it; completing missions, training new agents and recruits, as well as keeping tabs on everyone else. Well, the rest of the Avengers anyways - those who are either permanently living in the Compound, or like Steve and Natasha, live near it.

Steve’s mission was with Sam and Wanda - it was just a standard mission of gathering intel from an underground nuclear weapons dealer and to possibly take down the operation. It should’ve been five days max, but they were compromised and had to stay longer than necessary.

“Well I’m just saying, you guys could’ve called me for backup,” Natasha said, frowning at Steve’s story as she at her toast.

“Nat, I couldn’t put you in danger like that,” Steve quietly reasoned.

“Oh, but it’s okay if you were the one in danger?” she snapped back. She doesn’t want to get pissed, she really doesn’t, but Steve can be a tad bit overprotective sometimes. And her emotions are all over the place lately, probably from the lack of Steve, she figured.

Steve sighed, drinking his orange juice. “Nat-”

He didn’t finish what would’ve been his plea for her to drop the issue because Natasha was suddenly on her feet and running to the bathroom. Steve, alarmed, ran after her.

Natasha was crouching down by the toilet, throwing up. Steve crouched right behind her, holding her hair up and rubbing her back as she continued to puke. She coughed once it was over and Steve pulled a towel from where it was hanging behind him and handed it to her. They were now sitting on the toilet floor, and Natasha all but collapsed weakly into Steve as she wiped at her lips.

“Nat, what happened? How long have you been sick?” he asked, once she has stood up and brushed her teeth.

Natasha didn’t answer but instead, made her way to the living room and sat on the couch. Steve followed her and sat next to her, grabbing her hands to hold. He rubbed his thumb at her knuckles as an attempt to soothe her.

“Nat, please talk to me,” Steve encouraged after a while of silence. She’s staring straight ahead, looking a bit pale, and Steve can’t help but to feel scared.

Natasha still has a lingering fear in the back of her mind. Vormir must have done something to her. She was the only one who had to… well, basically die to get the stone, and surely, that has to have taken some toll on her, right?

But then again, that was two years ago. A lot has happened since then.

They got married shortly after - a small ceremony at the newly rebuilt Compound’s training field that was transformed into a magnificent garden for a day. Well, it wasn’t really a “small” event since all the Avengers were there, and there’s quite a lot of them. Still, they were all Natasha and Steve’s family, and of course, everyone wants to see them finally tie the knot after so many years of “bad timing” as Steve called it.

Morgan and Lila were the cutest flower girls, and Nate was an adorable ring-bearer. Sam and Bucky were both Steve’s best man since he just won’t choose one between them. Wanda was Natasha’s maid-of-honor, and the girl was smiling brightly the whole day, even through her tears as Steve and Natasha said their vows.

It was easily the best day of Natasha and Steve’s lives.

All was well after that - Natasha and Steve moved to a house about thirty minutes away from the Compound. As hard as it was, they tried to put the whole snap and undoing of it, the Time Heist, and such in the past. They moved on with their lives.

Steve gave her hand a little squeeze and Natasha’s eyes snapped to him. She cleared her throat.

“This is the fourth day in a row.” she said in a low voice. She ignored the first two days she’s thrown up, thinking she just ate something bad. When she was sick again yesterday, she started to become a bit more concerned.

Steve’s eyes widened a bit, but he stayed silent. “Do you think…” she trailed off, but he knew what she was thinking.

“That this has something to do with the soul stone?” Steve finished for her. “Nat, I don’t know…” he said, shaking his head. “It’s been two years since then. Why would the effects show up this late?”

Natasha shrugged. “We don’t know what it really did to me. Yes, you brought me back. But is that the end? We don’t know that!” she threw her hands up.

Steve nodded, letting one of her hands go to rake his hand through his hair. “Do you want me to call Bruce?”

“Yes please.”

Steve stood up, leaned down to kiss her forehead, and went to their room to get his phone and call Bruce.

Natasha lied down on the couch, her mind racing with ideas on why she might be suddenly sick. She keeps telling herself that she just caught the bug, but it’s been four days. And she’s not too sick , but she just… feels like something is off. Her thoughts lingered on the soul stone. That must be it, she thought.

She gotta admit, she hasn’t fully ruled out “brain tumor” just yet. She looked it up on WebMD a couple of days ago - which okay, was a bad idea - and it turns out, nausea and vomiting are some of the symptoms of brain tumor.

“Bruce said he can meet us in the Compound in three hours,” Steve’s voice broke her out of her reverie, which she was glad for because her thoughts were about to spiral down on the idea of having a brain tumor.

Steve cleaned up the table and soon joined her in the couch. She curled up on his lap, and he kissed her as he reassured her she’ll be okay. Natasha nodded and rested her head on his chest as Steve turned the TV on and flipped the channels until he landed on a movie. Natasha dozed off after a while.

–

Steve was standing off to the side as Bruce checked Natasha’s vitals. It’s odd at first - Bruce fusioned with the Hulk as a doctor. Natasha looked so tiny next to him. Bruce had trouble adjusting at first too, with medical supplies being too small. Good thing Tony made some “modified” tools specifically for Bruce.

“Well, everything looks normal,” Bruce announced, taking off his stethoscope. Natasha sat up and looked at Steve then to Bruce.

“Should we run some other tests?” Steve asked.

“Yes, I say we definitely should. This could be a prolonged effect of the soul stone, or not,” he added, seeing Natasha’s frown deepened, “but we just have to be sure. I’ll call in Strange to help me operate the machines and diagnosis.”

An hour later, Dr. Strange arrived at the Compound. After Bruce briefed him about Natasha’s current condition, he suggested they do an ultrasound exam first.

“An ultrasound? What for?” Natasha asked.

“Yes, abdominal and pelvic ultrasounds. These are just to rule a few things out, like pregnancy.” Stephen answered.

Natasha nearly scoffed, while Steve stiffened. “Strange, I can’t get pregnant. You know that,” she reminded him.

Strange nodded. “Yes, I know. But it’s just routine, Natasha. And we can also see if maybe the vomiting is caused by something else, like gallbladder stones and whatnot.”

Natasha agreed and after changing to a gown, lied down on the seat next to the ultrasound machine. Steve stood right next to her, holding her hand.

“I’m going to start with your upper abdomen and I’m going to work my way down,” Strange explained. He spread the gel over her abdomen and moved the wand around. They were watching the screen intently, although Natasha and Steve has no clue on what’s happening. Occasionally, Strange would pause to zoom in, and Bruce would throw comments here and there.

After a while of scanning, Strange squinted at the screen and he and Bruce exchanged a look. He shook his head and rotated the wand for a different angle until he stopped and zoomed in on the image.

“No way…” Bruce whispered, taking a closer look at the screen, glancing at Strange and seemingly having a mute conversation with him.

“What is it?” Natasha asked, a little alarmed.

“Natasha, you’re… you’re pregnant,” Strange answered, turning to look right at her.

Natasha’s mouth dropped, not being able to comprehend what she just heard. There’s no way she’s pregnant - the Red Room made sure of that! No, no, this was some sort of mistake.

“But Natasha can’t get pregnant,” Steve spoke out for her. He too, looked thoroughly confused.

“There has to be some sort of mistake,” Natasha reasoned out, but her mind was spinning. Her grip on Steve’s hand hardened and she could swear she saw him flinch.

“I understand that, but here, look,” Strange zoomed in on the image and used the controls to highlight the screen. “This over here is the sac. And that,” he moved right at the screen to touch it, “is your baby. You really are pregnant, Natasha.”

Natasha and Steve stayed silent, both seemingly trying to process this information. They looked at each other then at the screen, then at the doctors.

“Congratulations…?” Bruce said, smiling at them, trying to gauge their reactions from the look on their faces.

The men still didn’t say a word until Natasha let out a sound that sounded like a choked laugh.

“I’m pregnant.” Natasha declared, more to herself than anyone. As if she’s testing the words and saying them out loud as a confirmation. She looked up at Steve, “Steve, I’m pregnant!” she let out, her eyes starting to fill with tears.

Steve nodded and smiled brightly at her, his eyes mirroring hers and leaned down to kiss her. “We’re having a baby,” he whispered at her lips.

Natasha nodded and giggled, feeling giddy. Pregnant. Wow. She’s actually carrying her and Steve’s baby. She never thought this was possible, but what surprised her the most was that she wasn’t even… scared or anything like that. All that she was feeling was pure joy and excitement. Sure, she’s still very much confused on how she was able to get pregnant, which reminds her…

“But how am I pregnant?” she asked, looking back at Bruce and Stephen.

“What, you’re telling me you and Cap don’t use protection?” a voice piped up, and Tony suddenly showed up, a big grin on his face.

Bruce and Stephen chuckled while Steve’s face reddened. Natasha just rolled her eyes fondly. “Well to be fair, we never really needed one,” she told him.

Tony laughed and approached the screen. “I just dropped by to talk to Bruce and I was told he’s here. Congratulations! You’ll love parenthood,” and he left the room with a wink.

Bruce cleared his throat. “Well, to answer your question, we honestly don’t know.”

“Do you think it’s the soul stone? I mean, it might have healed her when she was… there,” Steve suggested.

Strange hummed and nodded. “I think that makes sense. Maybe in a way, she was fixed? Replenished?”

“We could talk to Gamora and the rest of the Guardians to get some more insight, if you want.” Bruce said, looking at Natasha.

She nodded. “We can. But can we go back to the baby now?” she smiled. “Strange, do you know how far along am I yet?”

Strange picked up the wand and put it on her belly again. “Hmm, around 6 to 7 weeks, it seems. Oh, hold on,” he pressed some buttons and they all heard a thumping sound. “That’s the baby’s heartbeat,” he said with a smile, glancing at Steve and Natasha.

Natasha put one hand over her mouth, astonished. Steve squeezed her hand that he was holding and let out a soft laugh. “We’re going to have a baby,” he whispered, looking at Natasha then around the room with a wide smile.

—

An hour later, Natasha and Steve were at the common room with Strange, Bruce, Tony, and Pepper to talk about the pregnancy. Pepper was on the couch, very excitedly holding onto Natasha’s hand.

“Now, Natasha, we don’t want to scare you but,” Strange and Bruce shared a look, “be careful. We still have to run some tests and we have to monitor the baby carefully.”

“We’ll get my doctor from when I was pregnant with Morgan,” Pepper said, squeezing Natasha’s hand when she tensed up for a bit. “She’s one of the best in the nation and she’ll take good care of you.” Natasha nodded and smiled at her.

“For now, please don’t take any missions or do anything too physical.” Bruce piped up, handing Steve and Tony mugs with coffee. The two took it gratefully and gave him a pat on the back.

“How do you feel, though, Romanoff?” Tony asked, taking a seat across from her.

Natasha and Steve exchanged a look and he gave her a smile while sipping his coffee next to Tony. “I have to say, I was really glad it wasn’t a brain tumor,” she answered with a laugh. Tony almost spit his coffee up and raised an eyebrow at her. “I may have looked at WebMD for a minute.”

“But to answer your question,” Natasha continued, “I’m happy. Really happy.”

Pepper practically melted at her answer and gave her a hug, while Steve stood up and stood behind her, his hands giving her shoulders a squeeze, and kissing the top of her head. She looked up at him and felt her eyes water again. Wow, they are right - pregnancy does make her more emotional. But she just couldn’t believe it - she knew Steve wanted kids and although he perfectly accepts that she can’t have any, she still sees the way he is with Morgan or Clint’s kids. Natasha smiled even though she can feel a drop of tear fall - he’s going to be the perfect dad. “We’ll be a family.”

Notes:

thanks for reading!

--and i hope i did the whole ultrasound thing correct? i have no medical background lol (im a business student, im so bad at science huhu sorry mom) but i did watch a couple of ultrasound videos and read up on it. i didn't think there were so many types of ultrasounds!!!!! i only ever had one to check for pcos (tmi, sorry) and i kinda used my experience to help write that scene lol

--ngl i might add to this - i kinda like the idea of James post-endgame!!!

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natrogersfics · 5 years

Text

A (sort of) Little Favor snippet ;-)

From the Romanogers AU of @faith2nyc on Instagram! If you squint hard enough, like me, you can pretend it is Steve, Nat, and fig enjoying a day in the park while vacationing away from the city.

Don’t forget to follow @faith2nyc_romanogers on Instagram for your daily dose of Evansson/Romanogers. Watch Part 1 of her AU here.

Read A Little Favor on AO3 here.

#romanogers #a little favor #natrogers #natrogersfics #faith2nyc #Izzie Romanoff Rogers #Steve Rogers #natasha romanoff #Romanoff Rogers family #au

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astromechs · 5 years

Note

romanogers + 12 😔👊🏽

we still goin back in time with these feelings, my dudes

also on ao3 here!

feel free to keep sending pairings/prompts from this list here!

The sun’s starting to get into her eyes through the open window, making her have to squint at the punching bag in front of her as she prepares her stance, but she doesn’t need that to remind her that she’s been at this for hours; her fingers are stiff when she stretches them out, and they practically protest against her when she curls them into fists again.

But a little pain and stiffness have never mattered to her – the Red Room beat concerns like that out of her a long time ago. Her body is only a tool, she’d once been taught, one that can be pushed beyond superficial limits for the sake of the mission. Until it’s done, nothing matters except the mission. The job.

The world, she thinks, the world that still needs someone to do something to try to protect it, that needs her to do this job, doesn’t care how she feels.

She inhales, and sends her fist colliding into the bag.

Wham.

“Think you’ve murdered that punching bag enough for one day.”

The sound of a familiar voice coming from a few steps away makes her stop, the bag swinging on its hook with a creak. Not many people can sneak up on her, but over the years, Steve has learned his lessons well. It’s a point of pride for her, even if, at the moment, it brings on the slightest twinge of annoyance.

“Isn’t that a little hypocritical, coming from you?” she asks as the bag comes back around, reaching out to grab it and hold it still. “I seem to remember a time when we went through at least ten of these in a week, because someone kept punching holes in them.”

When she turns, he shrugs, a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Innocent until proven guilty, Nat.”

Right now, she could actually punch said smirk off of his stupid face.

The thought must be evident in her expression somehow, because Steve laughs, like the asshole he is. It’s brief and quiet, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s a laugh all the same.

Some days, that’s a monumental achievement.

Before she can say anything, he holds up a paper bag like it’s a peace offering. “I brought takeout.” It’s a good one, actually; her stomach growls right on cue. Even if she could keep pushing, she does need to eat eventually. “And a movie.”

She makes quick work of unwrapping her hands, unceremoniously tosses the wrappings to the floor as she turns away and steps toward him. “DVD. How ancient,” she says as she peers at the box in his other hand. “Thought we’d traded in the Jurassic period for Antiques Roadshow, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Ha ha,” Steve fires back dryly, emphasizing each part of that as an individual word.

They don’t say anything else as they walk from the gym back toward the compound’s main building, and their dinner conversation is as light and banal as it usually is when they eat cheap takeout together like this. That’s been life for the past eight months – make it to the end of the day, don’t dive into anything too deeply, wake up and do it all over again. If she doesn’t think about it too hard, she can almost convince herself that this feels normal.

(Almost.

This is the problem with stepping out of the shadows: once you leave them behind, once you trade lies for the truth, you can’t go back.)

There’s no one here at all except them, but they still share the middle of the couch in the common area, legs and arms touching for the movie’s entire two hours and change. They laugh at all the places they should, and some they probably shouldn’t, and more than once, she thinks that she’s really glad that Steve had decided to come by; it’s nice to have a friend sometimes, and she feels at least ten times lighter.

Things like that, of course, aren’t meant to last.

“Sam would’ve hated that.” She’s cognizant of the words just when they leave her mouth, at a point that’s too late, and, instantly, the air becomes heavy around them, in all the worst familiar ways. Her chest hollows out, and her throat goes dry.

Her eyes sting, and she drops her gaze down to the fabric of the couch, silently willing herself to get it together.

“Yeah,” Steve says quietly, voice thick in a way that suggests he’s trying to do the same thing. “Yeah, he would have.”

She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and she glances up, eyes searching his. He looks exhausted, probably more exhausted than she feels; she wonders when he last actually slept. There are lines on his face that she’s sure weren’t there a year ago, with likely more than a fair few on her own to match, too. It’s been a long eight months, and a long couple of years since the mess with the Accords before that, and the wear is all over them.

But even through all of that, she thinks, they’re both still here.

She doesn’t know who moves first, doesn’t know which of them is the one to actually take the step to cross some metaphorical Rubicon, but eventually, they meet in the middle, his lips pressed against hers, and she’s moving in sync with him.

A part of her thinks that, maybe, this has been a long time coming. But this isn’t a movie, so nothing that’s happening here is a magical fix for the state of the world around them. It doesn’t take away the hollowness in her chest, or the knowledge that tomorrow, billions of people will still be dead and billions of fractured families will still be trying to pick up the pieces. It doesn’t make up for what anyone has lost, and could never hope to.

It does let her know, though, that she isn’t in this alone. And for the moment, that’s enough.

#natasha romanoff #steve rogers #romanogers #* fic #* prompt fic #my stuff #i have truly time traveled back to 2014/2015 #anyway this is my last week of vacation so i'm gonna keep working on prompts this week but fyi i'm only gonna get slower #however i love writing all of these so please feel free to keep sending them my way!#asks #answered #crazyrichfilipinos

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ao3feed-stucky · 5 years

Link

by lavenderandthyme

“I think,” she bites her lip a little. “-I think that if they were going to come back, they would’ve by now. I had some weird ass dreams though, under the fever, so they may eventually.”

She takes a mouthful of her chow-mien, stabbing at the noodle with a little too much force, and freezes again.

“Did I try to choke you?”

He laughs at her then, breathy and light.

“Don’t worry about it, you were practically unconscious, it was barely a squeeze.”

She narrows her eyes and points her fork at him, but he can see her body relax again.

“Yeah, well I'm conscious now, Rogers.”

or - Natasha sends Steve some postcards, and Bucky sends his love, albeit, unconventionally, at first.

Words: 8158, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, Multi

Characters: Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel)

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Additional Tags: You really have to squint for the Steve/Bucky, OT3 if you squint, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, romanogers - Freeform, Natasha has feelings, Steve just loves her, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug

#Bucky #AO3 works tagged 'James Barnes/Steve Rogers'#ao3feed #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #c

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chalantness · 6 years

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six sexy words.. romanogers and "Do you have secrets to share?" (bonus if it's in the royal au!)

“Romanogers #47 , #55 , #61 thank you.” requested by @sleepygrimm

47. Tell me how you’d fuck me. + 55. Sliding my fingers into your mouth. + 61. Give me an orgasm or two. + 97. Do you have secrets to share?

also inspired by this photo, and by a line written by @sassaspazz in this drabble (you’ll know it when you read it)

part of the royal ‘verse and directly follows-up to this prompt

1.8k follower celebration!

She can feel the warmth of morning sunlight against her skin as she blinks her eyes open, squinting against the sudden brightness of the room. She rolls onto her stomach with a soft yawn, stretches out her arms and legs, her lips tugging into a smile as she feels the delicious ache in her muscles. She feels sore down to her bones, practically, and she still feels a little bit like liquid from last night. They had barely made it inside her suite before he’d tugged her dress down her chest and wrapped his lips around her nipple, and she’d found herself bare only moments later, hoisted onto the mini bar in nothing but her lace panties and her heels and her gaudy necklace still draped around her throat.

Steve had left her in her heels and necklace, too, as he wrung every ounce of pleasure from her. It wasn’t until she was sated and already half-asleep that he’d finally stripped them from her, kissing her ear and whispering, “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to see you just like this, draw you just like this.”

She drapes her forearm over her eyes, bites the inside of her lip to try and hide her smile. She’d been too far gone to try to reply to him then, but now?

Oh, she’s absolutely not letting that go.

“That’s quite a dangerous smile to have first thing in the morning, Your Highness.”

She peaks out from under her arm, shading her eyes from the sunlight as Steve walks over from the bathroom. His gaze drags slowly down her body, and her skin tingles as if he’s actually touching her, tracing over her every curve.

“Do you have secrets to share?” she teases, drawing her arm as she sits herself up. He arches an eyebrow at her in question, reaches over to cup her jaw, stroking his thumb down the apple of her cheek. Her smile widens a little more. “Because you confessed something quite interesting last night.”

His forehead creases a little, his expression furrowing in thought for a moment as he tries to remember.

And then he blinks, realization making him breathe out an amused, “oh.”

“Do you really think about drawing me like that?” she asks, and despite the lilt of delight in her voice, she’s not teasing him. Well, not just teasing him. She’s genuinely curious, though she’s almost certain she already knows his answer.

“Of course I do.” He answers without missing a beat, and a warmth quickly unfurls in her stomach, making her skin tingle.

He leans in to kiss her, but she just giggles and draws away, lying back down. He chuckles, except it comes out a little gravelly, shaking with the same heat of desire that she feels, because he knows her, and he knows exactly what she’s about to say: “Well, now’s your chance.”

“Nat.” His eyes are darker now, his stare growing heavier as he swallows. She knows that he wants it, too, that he’s not going to say no, but he also doesn’t say anything else at first and she’s sort of holding her breath in her attempt not to squirm under his stare. “You know,” he says slowly, finally, still holding her gaze as he walks over to their luggage at the foot of their bed, “when I imagine how I’d like to draw you, it’s a little bit different.” He glances away from her to dig in his bag, pulling out his sketchbook and pencil, and then he’s climbing onto the opposite end of the bed and flipping open to a blank page. She starts to lift herself up but he stops her with a shake of his head, and, biting the inside of her lip, she lays back down. “You’re usually much, much wetter.”

A laugh bursts from her. “You could always give me an orgasm or two,” she says with an arch of her eyebrow. “Just to get me going.”

He chuckles and shakes his head again. “You’re much wetter because you’re touching yourself,” he explains, and her breath sort of catches in her throat. “When I think of drawing you, I think of you pleasing yourself, desperate for me.” He wraps a hand around her ankle, sliding it away from him to open her legs even wider, and she swears this small, simple gesture is enough to make her wet on its own.

She lets her head tip back against the pillow as she slides a hand down the flat of her stomach, stares up at the ornate painting on the ceiling as her fingers slide over her folds, and the first scratch of his pencil across the paper makes her heart stutter in her chest. She dips down into her wetness, teases right at her entrance for a few breaths before drawing her fingers up to circle her clit.

Her blood is starting to thrum, her breaths growing a little heavier, but she can still hear his pencil as it moves against the paper in erratic strokes. She lifts her head a little to look over at him, taking in the way his forehead is wrinkled a little in concentration, the hard length of him beginning beside his sketchbook that he’s propped on one knee. He glances up from the page, his lips curving into a smile when he catches her watching him.

“Need a little help, princess?”

She circles her clit again, and his chuckle is deep and rumbling as he catches her slight huff of frustration. She knows she’s aroused, and her touch feels good, but it’s not him. Her fingers are too slender, her skin too soft, almost too delicate, and it’s as if her body knows that he’s right there, that he’s supposed to be touching her like this instead.

“Tell me how you’d fuck me,” she orders - pleads - because she needs more.

She needs him.

“You mean, you don’t remember from last night?” he asks, almost taunts, as he drags his pencil in a particularly harsh line across his sketchpad. She bends one knee, opens herself up a little more as she dips her fingers back into her wetness and pushes two of them inside her. She’s slick with her arousal, and the slight brush of her palm against her clit sends a pulse of desire shooting straight down her spine. “You don’t remember how you almost came right on my hand on the mini bar, until I yanked it right out of your grasp?”

She mewls, curling her fingers the way he had, the heel of her hand pressing over her clit as the pad of her fingers find that spot that makes her hips jump off of the mattress. He had been a little rougher with her and it’s one of the things she’s always loved about him; he never treated her like something too precious to touch, like she was always a second away from breaking. So she tries to mimic the harsher curls of his strokes, the snaps of his wrists, and her lips part in a loud moan when another pulse of desire shoots down her spine.

“There you go, love.” His voice is soft, encouraging, but almost startles her because she’d quickly become wrapped up in her pleasure. “You don’t like it when I’m too gentle with you.” His hand grasps her ankle again, pushing her legs wider apart, wider, until she can feel the strain in her muscles from how he’d stretched her like this last night: one leg hooked over his shoulder, her other pinned to the mattress as he thrust into her. “You like to feel me all over.”

She whimpers, letting out a sharp, soft cry as her pleasure climbs. She remembers how much more intense everything had felt last night without the condom between them, remembers her oversensitive folds fluttering and shuddering at every little press and pull of him.

“Touch your clit,” he orders, his voice tighter, hoarser, and she complies, sliding her fingers out despite her sex fluttering in protest. And then she’s rubbing gently over her little bundle of nerves, rubbing in gentle, tight circles just like Steve does, in that way that’s almost unrelenting. Her back arches off of the bed, her free hand grasping at the sheet and twisting it in her grip as her lips part in a long, loud moan. Her body jolts when one of his hands curves over her left hip, like he can’t quite help but put his hand on her as she starts to feel herself unravel.

She strokes over her clit, her sex aching for the long, deep stretch on him inside of her, for how perfect it feels when they’re connected, and it’s the memory of him spilling inside of her for the first time last night that sends her over the edge.

She cries out, her hand starting to fall away, but he snatches her wrist and moves his hand to cup over hers, their fingers continue to slide over her slick folds. Her body shudders as she tries to twist away from the touch because it’s almost too much, but he knows she wants it, knows she can handle it, so he continues working their fingers over her as she rides out the waves of her high. She feels the bed dip as Steve moves over her, the warm, solid weight pressing her into the mattress as he slants his mouth over hers in a kiss. He guides her hand back down to her entrance, dipping her fingers through the wetness of her orgasm before drawing her hand up, sliding her fingers into his mouth and sucking.

Her eyelashes flutter open, her vision blurry at the edges as she meets his gaze. He pulls her hand away, licks his lips. She swallows lightly, mewling.

“Pretty sure I’ll have no problem drawing that from my memory,” he says, then dips down to press his lips to hers, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

But she can feel the hard length of him pressing against her hip, and she reaches up to gently push at his shoulders. He automatically complies, drawing away just a little, and she knows he catches the glint of intent in her eyes as she pushes at him again, urging him to roll over. He hooks an arm around her hips as he does, drawing her to straddle his chest as he lays back against the bed, and she reaches behind her to grab his sketchpad and his pencil.

She lays the pad over his chest, biting on her lip as she takes in his sketch. It’s mostly an outline of her, but even with the rough strokes of his pencils, she can tell just how erotic her pose is, can see that her legs are bent wide and she’s arching her back in pleasure. She doesn’t just look beautiful.

She looks captivating.

“I think this should be my birthday present,” she says, leaning down to kiss him gently on his lips. Her voice is light, almost teasing, but she knows he can see the tears starting to gather in her eyes, can see the subtle quiver of her body.

“I think I’d be exiled if your parents ever came across it,” he teases, and she laughs a little as he wipes at the corner of her eye with his thumb.

“But you’d risk it just for me, wouldn’t you?”

He gazes up at her with such awe, such adoration, that it makes her ache.

“For you, I’d risk everything.”

#romanogers #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #chanty writes #chanty's smut #xo stardust720 #sleepygrimm #sassaspazz #six sexy words meme #six sexy words meme round 4 #royal 'verse

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