You don't know how or when it happened, but it was like a switch went off in how much Natasha started using any excuse to touch you. You've always loved being touch, it was your love language of sorts, but you also craved the attention from anyone who would give it – makes sense, being in this industry, but it also brought on a lot of unwanted attention. This was different though. It could be in the form of a hand on your lower back, gently guiding you backstage when you sometimes didn't know your way around – many venues were like a maze – or it could be when you were lounging in the dressing room an hour before a show, trying not to let the nerves eat you alive. And they didn't, especially when a warm, familiar hand came up to the nape of your neck and squeezed lightly, centering you somehow as she leaned close against your side and whispered reassuring things into your ear.
But not everyone is out to protect you and some people want to take you down because you're more successful or they don't agree with you or like you for whatever reason. Sometimes it's unexplainable and things – photos, in this case – get leaked. Normally, it'd be fine, and you wouldn't think twice about crew or staff posting photos of you backstage or behind the scenes because even though they're told not to and you could technically sue them, it's never made your fans look at you differently. The only thing that came from it was maybe a not-so-flattering angle or it got the poster a bunch of followers. Who cares.
It was after your show in Brazil, two more the following consecutive nights to go before you wrapped up this leg of tour in Uruguay, that you were handed your phone by Bucky, told to click over to what was trending on Twitter. You gave him a weird, confused look as you toweled off some of your sweat, scrolling through as you slowly made your way back to the dressing room.
BRAZIL SHOW
PROUD OF YOU
Y/N STARK
Y/N STARK GAY
Y/N STARK AND BODYGUARD
Y/N STARK QUEERBAITING
You furrowed your eyebrows at some of the tags, completely confused, before you clicked the second from last and were instantly flooded with pictures of Natasha whispering to you a little too closely where some looked like she was kissing you. You felt a tightness in your chest, seeing these intimate moments blasted all over social media was a shock, but these moments didn't mean anything. They were just that. Moments. To you, it might've made you blush or feel a warmth in your chest as she made your nerves and anxiety vanish, but you couldn't get that through random pictures. That was all in your head, and it was one sided – surely, the fans and general public couldn't pick up on that.
"Hey," A gentle touch to your arm brought you back to reality and you clutched your phone after locking it as you peered up to see Natasha's green eyes soft with concern when you reached the room's door, "Did you eat at all today? You look kind of pale, princess."
"Yeah, um," You shook your head, trying to rid your thoughts of anything else, "Had some grapes earlier and...like a bunch of bananas. A literal bunch. I was an animal – probably specifically a monkey, but still. Maybe Camilla Cabello."
"Why're you –?" She cut herself off, guiding you inside with a hand on your upper arm when she noticed some people glancing your guys' way, and then she shut the door, the voices on the other side now muffled, "You're acting weird. Bucky showed you those pictures, I'm guessing?"
You cringed, "You saw them too?"
"I'm in them – they happened. Seeing them in a photo or being talked about doesn't change that or make it more real somehow. Does it bother you?" She raised her eyebrows, nearly hugging herself as she crossed her arms loosely around her middle, "That there's rumors going around that we're hooking up or hooked up?"
"No," You told her honestly, "I just – I don't..."
"Want Johnny finding out?" She guessed, some bite to her words, and you frowned because no.
"I don't want people hating you because of me."
She looked surprised, her arms falling to her sides, "What?"
"Fans or not," You sighed, moving around your room to grab some things for after your shower, "Whoever I'm dating or rumored to be dating, more like, gets loads of hate. They know that going in, but if they agree, then the attention they get for their career is worth it – especially after the 'breakup' articles come out. Which – fine," You shrugged, "But you," You pointed your tee shirt at her as she watched you closely, her lips parted, but you couldn't tell what she was thinking, "You didn't sign up for that and I don't want people to hate someone like you because you – well," You paused, breaking eye contact, "I might be a spoiled brat who left school too early, but it doesn't take someone with a university degree to know you're awesome and I've kind of known that since I met you on the elevator."
You didn't know which part made her make that face, but you felt terrible because she looked upset, but then she pressed her lips into a firm line, and you thought she might yell before she was stomping across the room towards you with determination. You opened your mouth to try and make it right and stop her, but then she grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you into her so she could smash her lips against yours.
You were frozen in shock – this was happening, this was happening – you're kissing Natasha freaking fucking Romanoff, holy mother fucking shit balls??
She pulled back, but then kissed you again with a cheeky smile when she saw your lips curling slightly, something in your widened eyes pulling her in again as the hand that wasn't holding your neck ran down your arm to curve around your waist, bringing you flush against her as you both stumbled a bit until your back was pressed against the wall.
