natasha romanoff one-shots (gxg)

𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢'𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬

a/n: date night with nat

established relationship + fluff

"A date night?", you whisper as Natasha kisses your neck.

"This weekend. You, me, outside. It's supposed to be a clear night, and we might see a few stars."

Looking at the stars together; it's the most romantic cliche you can think of, and you've been in love with it since forever. Unfortunately, Natasha never was such a fan of that — so her suggesting this herself means the world to you.

Her hands slip under your shirt, touching your skin. You breathe out quietly, your nose brushing against her cheek before you kiss her jaw.

"Who would've thought my fiancée is such a softie."

She pulls away, her eyes glistening playfully. "Very funny."

"You are, though." You look into her eyes, which are barely visible in the darkness of your room. Only the moon outside is lighting up her face, allowing you to see its outlines. You touch her face with your fingers. "I love that idea, Nat."

Natasha smiles. "So it's a yes?"

"On second thought..."

"Honey."

"Of course it's a yes." Your lips curve into a smile as her fingers reach the rim of your bra, tracing it. "I can't wait, actually."

"Me too."

. . .

Natasha prepares the date with the sweetest kind of dedication. A fluffy blanket, champagne, candles — she even makes sure to mow the lawn and water it a day prior, just so it's nicely green and hydrated.

She knows how much you're looking forward to this, and she wants to make sure it ends up being everything you want and more. The thing is: no matter how much time she spends preparing it, how meticulously she envisions every detail — in the end, nature has to cooperate in order for your date to happen.

And when it starts raining on Friday, right while you're having breakfast, a small frown makes itself visible on your face. It's like nature declaring war against you, as dramatic as that may sound.

Natasha notices immediately, her eyes following your gaze. She sees the raindrops on the kitchen window and stops in her tracks.

"Maybe it'll stop by tomorrow."

"Hopefully", you say quietly.

"It will", your fiancée says, already racking her brain for some kind of solution. She wants the date to happen, and she wants it to happen the way you wished it would.

"And if it doesn't, it's okay", you say, putting your hand on her wrist and squeezing it gently. "We'll do it some other time."

Natasha shakes her head. "No. We're getting our date tomorrow, no matter what."

No matter what, you think, sounds very impossible considering the circumstance.

. . .

One thing you should've learned by now is that when Natasha says 'no matter what', she actually means it.

It's Saturday morning, and — aside from a few rain free hours here and there — it's been very much raining constantly outside.

Your date? Not happening, at least not in the way you imagined it. You've made peace with it, more or less at least, but Natasha still seems convinced that you'll get to look at the stars tonight anyway.