natasha romanoff one-shots (gxg)

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮̶𝐧̶𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐱-𝐮𝐩 (𝟒/𝟓)

a/n: contains smut

You only truly realize what you've done when you hear Natasha knock on your door. You get up, cursing yourself for being so impulsive, and quickly open the door to let her in. A faint blush covers your cheeks when you remember you're still only wearing an oversized shirt and underwear.

The redhead glances at your sleepwear, then she looks at your face.

You have no idea what to say.

"I'm sorry", you eventually say, stumbling over your own words. "I shouldn't have texted you, or told you to come over, or..." You swallow, the words getting stuck in your throat.

Natasha tilts her head, concern and amusement in her eyes. "And you are sure you're not drunk?"

That manages to pull you out of your nervous state.

You roll your eyes. "Feel free to smell my breath, officer."

"I'll pass, thank you." The woman inspects you intently, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "What happened? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine", you say, finally pulling her into your apartment and closing the door behind her. Snap, sitting next to the couch, watches Natasha curiously as she doesn't pay any attention to him. "I don't know. I guess I just started to freak out, and before I knew it..."

"You texted me", she finishes your sentence. "Reading that was interesting, to say the least. I never thought you'd miss me."

"That's why I started to freak out." You move to the couch, where you sit down. Natasha joins you, sitting down cross-legged. "When this whole situation with Alina started, I couldn't wait for you to leave me alone. But then, as soon as you did, I hated it. It's so weird because I've only known you for a few months, and we don't like each other, and-"

"Wait", Natasha interrupts you. "We don't like each other? I never said I didn't like you. And I find it hard to believe that you don't like me, either."

You, taken aback by those words, quickly shake your head. "What?"

She narrows her eyes as she keeps looking at you, trying to figure out if you're being serious. "Think about it. You miss me. You keep texting me, drunk or not. And I'm sorry, but if you don't like someone you certainly don't want to interact with them. What you're doing is the complete opposite." She suddenly smirks. "And honestly, I don't blame you."

Her words make you speechless for a second. Is she right?

"That's not- it doesn't-" Your jaw is on the floor. "What?"

Natasha nods. "It's true. Look, I get that you were mad after I, you know...but now? Like you said, it's been months. And it was a mistake. No way in hell you still 'hate' me, Y/N."

"You can't know that", you say defensively and cross your arms in front of your chest. Her green eyes are shimmering in the dim light of the floor lamp that is standing next to the couch, her lips curled into a smile.

"Why not?" She sounds provocative.

"Well, people have different kinds of emotions and ways to react...", you say slowly. Natasha starts laughing and, truthfully, you feel insulted by that. "Stop it."

"You're not a psych major, are you?", she asks sarcastically.

Your lips tighten, which is enough of an answer. Natasha shakes her head.

"Look, I don't know why you're so intent on pretending to not like me. But believe me when I say it's better for you to just accept that that's not true and...move on, or something. We don't have to be friends, but holding on to a grudge isn't a solution, either. Trust me. I have experience."