natasha romanoff one-shots (gxg)

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮̶𝐧̶𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐱-𝐮𝐩 (𝟏/𝟓)

a/n: idk how to describe this. slight enemies to lovers

no idea how long this is going to be tbh

You wash your hands, dry them and then grab your jacket from the coat hanger to put it on. Your coworker Miles is next to you, putting on his shoes. "Going home?", he asks, looking up at you with his deep blue eyes.

"Yeah, obviously." You run your hand through your hair. "Did you lock the register?"

"Yes." He gets up, his hair curly and blocking his eyes. He uses his hands to move the loose strands away, cracking a smile at you. "Sure you don't want to go to the bar with us? Elle's coming, too."

"I'm very sure, thank you."

He nods and you leave the café, locking the door behind you after you've walked out into the freezing cold. There's some leftover snow on the ground and your breaths are forming little clouds in front of your faces as you exhale, making one thing clear: it's the end of winter in New York.

"Stay safe", he says and lifts his hand as a form of saying goodbye. "Night, Y/N."

"Night, Miles." You turn around, looking right down the alley. It's pitch-black, not a single light to be seen. You glance at your watch, realizing that your train is leaving in about 12 minutes — and if you want to make it, you need to take the shortcut.

The alley is a more or less familiar place to you. You need to take this route whenever you're running late, which usually happens about twice a week, especially when the café is busy.

The trash cans, the empty bottles, the disgusting smell. It isn't new, or unfamiliar. Yet when you set foot in that alley, something seems different. You feel goosebumps all over your arms as you start walking slowly, carefully, focused on the other side that is showing the promise of street lights and people. Being around someone is better than being alone. Or, so you thought.

You nearly let out a scream when you feel a cold hand wrap itself around your wrist, pulling you to the side. Your open mouth gets covered with a wet cloth, suppressing any noise that tries to slip out of you.

"Don't move", a female voice says before you enter a place of complete darkness.

. . .

"You awake?"

The woman is speaking to you through a layer of blurry thoughts and tiredness. You feel the need to sleep and your entire body is hurting. When you try to move your arms, it doesn't work: your hands are tied back with rope, your feet are attached to the chair you're sitting on.

"What the...", you mumble, wiggling your hands. No chance, the rope is thick and tight, making it unable for you to move. You blink and look at the woman in front of you. Her red hair is wavy and short, her lips plump. She's pretty in that black suit she's wearing, you have to admit that — but you're still furious. "Are you insane? Let me go!"

She just smiles. "No."

You stare at her. "What?"

"You heard me right. I can't let you go, unfortunately." She tilts her head.

"Is this some kind of sick joke?", you snap. "Are you going to kill me? Hm?"

"Oh, no. Don't worry about that." She leans back, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Her eyes are stinging green as they're focused on you. "Now tell me: what are you planning with HYDRA?"

"HY-what?" You have no idea what that is. You distinctly remember hearing about it once or twice, but it never occurred to you to actually research it. "You got the wrong woman, idiot."