˗ˏˋ romanogers oneshots ˎˊ˗

hate to love you

"Natasha, there's someone I want you to meet." Fury remarks, walking along the hallway to his office with his best agent and secretly his favorite. 

She looks up from the tablet in her hand, finishing up a mission report before turning to him with a glare. 

Fury smirks slightly before opening the door to his office, to reveal a blond six foot super soldier, the costumed hero of the 40s. 

Natasha turns to Fury with a snarl. "Seriously?" She raises her eyebrows and rolls her eyes. 

Fury smiles at the nervous man who turns to them, his baby blues eyes complimenting the rest of her features. 

"Agent Romanoff, Captain Rogers." Fury introduces, gesturing between them. 

She eyes the man with a glare as he stretches out a hand which she declines by not saying a word and training her eyes to glare daggers down his soul. If looks could kill, Steve would be dead a hundred times over. 

He clears his throat nervously and shoves his hand back down into his pocket. 

"He's the best in his field. I want the two of you to be partners." Fury explains, glancing at Natasha with a death stare, meaning that he meant business. 

She scoffs. "You know very well I work best alone." This was indeed true, but it was also the reason why Fury needed them to be partners. 

"I need someone to show him the ropes and you're the best." Fury told a fib that she could see right through but she rolls her eyes and relents. 

"Of course I'm the best." Okay, damn, this chick is snarky alright. She turns to Steve. "Fine. Partners. But stay out of my way." 

With that she turns on her heel to head out of the office, only to hear him chorus "Yes Ma'am." She rolls her eyes.  

_

"Get out of my sight." she snarls. She was tired from the mission and therefore her hatred of him had turned into anger. Afterall, the way the mission went was his fault and she was bitter about it, hence the menace. 

"Okay I get it, you hate me, you don't have to be snarky about it." He says, rolling his eyes, finally getting annoyed with her. 

She glares, ignores him and walks away. 

_

They fire comments at each other whenever they can, snarky remarks, insults, you name it, they had it. And it wasn't like they hated each other or anything, okay maybe they did, a little, actually a lot. It was because they were so different in personality and likelihood and everything they said and did contradicted one another. Opposites usually attracted but in their case, repelled the hell out of them. Maybe they were alike, in the way that they hated the other but were far too stubborn to admit it was their fault. Were they both at fault? It couldn't possibly have just been one of them if they've been at it this long. Or maybe they were both too scared to admit that maybe this was how they dealt with feelings and all and somehow along the way, snarkiness became their love language. The insults were secretly compliments, but put in an opposite way, like how they were both so similar but yet different in their own ways. 

_

It's nearly midnight and Steve has just finished his post dinner workout and is about to head too bed when there's a knock on his door. 

"Natasha?" He asks, surprised to see her at his door. 

"No shit." Her eyes are red and puffy, her hair is disheveled and she's a mess. 

He contemplates giving her a snarky remark but she simply bites her lips and tears threaten to spill out. "It's late."

"I know. I didn't know where else to go." She confesses. "If I'm intruding something, I can leave." She looks down a her boots, digging her nails into her palms. 

Steve reaches for her hands gently, holding them in his to prevent her from hurting herself. "It's okay."

She breaks into a sob and Steve doesn't know what to do. "Do you need anything?" The least he can do is ask, right? She shakes her head. Okay, he tried. "Okay. do you want me to go or should i stay?'

"Stay." she whispers so quietly, barely above for anyone to hear but he hears, and nods reassuringly. 

"Okay. I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere. Take all the time you need. And you're tired, so rest. It'll be okay." His thumb strokes her wrist gently and she looks up, her teary green eyes meeting his bright blue ones. That's when he notices the beauty in her eyes for the first time. Beneath the green, there was a grey hazel undertone, and despite it's beauty, he saw it for what they were, eyes that have been through too much for a lifetime. 

She notices his staring and blushes, mumbling an apology. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. I should go."

"You sure?" He's testing a theory and he doesn't know if it'll work out. 

She gets up, shakes her head. "I don't know." And she flops back down on the sofa, exhausted. 

Shortly after, she falls asleep, or at least is going to. 

He looks at her and smiles softly. She looks so peaceful, unlike her usual chaotic self with the sarcasm and the challenge where they would fight to see who won an argument. She was vulnerable. He lets out a soft sigh and sinks down on the floor beside her, running his fingers gently through her tangled red locks. 

"You're not as vicious as you make yourself out to be you know. I know you don't actually hate me, because if I'm being honest, I don't think I hate you either. In fact, it's like the more I show you I hate you, I'm actually falling more in love with you. And honestly I didn't plan for it either, but the more you show hatred towards me, the more I'm attracted to you." He says, stroking her cheek. She stirs in her sleep a little, but doesn't respond. He assumes she's asleep, but she isn't, not yet. He curses under his breath. "Fuck, I'm going insane. You're not even awake, who am I kidding. Tomorrow when you wake up you're gonna go back to hating me." He sighs. 

A smile curls on her lips as she whispers, "Language, Captain. Language."

He laughs. "How much of that did you hear?"

She goes silent for a second, unsure of a response. "Enough."

"Shit." He mumbles.

She scoffs. "And I don't either. In fact, I hate to love you and love to hate you. That's what all this is."

"I'm glad we're on the same page." He admits. 

They share a smile.Insane isn't it, how one can go from so much hate to so much love or perhaps there wasn't any hate, it was, like I said, a love language. Whoever said there were five love languages clearly didn't know hate was one of them.

A/N: le gasp where did this motivation fall from omg but okays i havent written in forever so god forbid my writing skills have gone to crap buut i hope you like it. dont forget to vote comment and share, i would love to know your thoughts about this ayyy.