Avengers Preferences

How You Met, Part 2

Natasha Romanoff

"Ticket please," the flight attendant asks you. Handing her your ticket she looks at it, "To your left."

You take my ticket and walk down the aisle to your seat. In the isle seat sits a tall man and the window seat is currently empty. You open my bag and grab out my laptop, headphones and phone. You sit down in the middle seat and fiddle with the seat screen.

"Excuse me please," a female voice says she moves down the aisle and places her bag in the over head lockers and faces the seat beside you.

Walking past the man towards you and sitting in the window seat. Placing her bag under the seat and buckling the seat belt she gives you a small smile.

"Hi," you say, "I'm Y/n."

"Natasha," she tells you, "Why are you heading to New York?"

"Oh, I just got a job over there so I'm moving. What about you?"

"I live there I was visiting London for my job."

"Everyone please buckle your seatbelts and prepare for take off," a voice says over the intercom.

*Time skip to the end of the flight*

"Bye Natasha, I was great meeting you."

"Wait, here my number. I'd really like to keep in touch." She tells you handing over a piece of paper.

"You should expect a call."

With that you both part ways. Smiling only thinking about the girl you met on the plane.

Pietro Maximoff

"Yes, I understand, I'll be there right away sir," Your boss hangs up the phone and with a sigh you put your phone away.

"Order for Y/n," the barista calls, coming up and collecting your order he eyes you up and down smiling. Shaking your head you walk away.

Crossing the road you start you walk through Central Park. Taking a sip of your drink you see your name spelt horribly wrong. Walking at a pace not wanting to be fired you keep your eyes on the ground when. Smack. You hit somebody falling over and spilling all of your drink over the both of you.

"Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going," a voice with a heavy accent says.

"No, it was my fault I should have been paying attention," you tell him.

"I'm Pietro," he says holding out his hand.

"Y/n," you say taking his hand, "That's a bit of a stain you have on you shirt."

"It should come out, right?" He asks with a grin.

"Yeah," you look down and groan when you see you top soaked in liquid.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just my boss is in a bad mood and I'm going to be late now and to be perfectly honest he probably hates me," you tell Pietro.

"Well, go home tell your boss you are sick and we hang out for the day."

"I can't do that. I told him I was coming in," you tell him slightly agitated, "And we just met. For all you know I could be a murderer."

"Well I'll take my chances. What's the worst that can happen?"

"Fine, I just need to get changed if we are going to do something else."

Wanda Maximoff

You pull you sweater closer to you. Walking through the cold supermarket in the middle of winter is quite chilly and you have been putting it off as long as possible so all the food in you house is a jar of pickles, two slightly out of date yogurts and a half eaten carrot.