˗ˏˋ romanogers oneshots ˎˊ˗

safe and sound

Steve Rogers was never a man to be late. He was on time, and he always came home early from missions. This time, however, was different. He was supposed to arrive the day before. But he was still no where to be seen. Natasha paced up and down the living room, biting her lip as her fingers dug into her own clenched fists. She was worried. Not worried, uneasy. What if something terrible had happened to him? What if he never came back? What if he had been killed in cold blood? She had already stormed into Fury's office to demand answers earlier that day but Fury had not heard from Steve ever since his last check in two days ago. Natasha mentally cursed herself for not going on the mission with her husband. But she knew she couldn't when she looked down at the little bump barely forming on her lower abdomen. Screw protocol, she need to find Steve. She needed him. Their little blip needed him. And that's when it hit her, he didn't know. Not yet. She had been planning on telling him during a dinner date when he came back from his mission. And that was supposed to be yesterday. He was a day late. She glanced at the clock on the wall. 11.56 p.m. With a sigh, she flopped herself down on the sofa. She curled herself up into a ball in the corner of the sofa. The corner which held so many memories of late movie nights in which she would fall asleep in Steve's arms. It was their safe place. Her safe place. Anyone who didn't look twice would have assumed that the sofa was empty due to her tiny frame. Or maybe the red hair gave it away. She'll never know. She cries herself to sleep, thinking of Steve, not caring about which one of the Avengers would find her on the sofa in the morning.

"You'll never be good enough,"

"Take her and begin the ceremony,"

"A cold blooded killer and assassin. That's who you are and who you'll ever be."

"You can't escape who you are."

Natasha wakes up with a scream as memories of the red room play over in her mind. Her nightmares. They haven't been there since she started sleeping with Steve. They never appeared, not even on nights he wasn't there. But this was different. He was missing and her fears kicked in. And one thing led to another, causing her anxiety to spike, which in turn caused her nightmares. If Steve were here he would hold her, whisper sweet little nothings into her ear and stroke her hair until she fell back asleep. Or sometimes they would have sex as a relieve for the pain, never speaking of it the next day. He was her release. He was her comfort. He was everything to her. She sighs and gets up to make a tea, hoping it would calm her down. She puts a kettle on and slides into one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter, remembering how she would always whip up a meal after a particularly draining day, while Steve sat at the bar stool and watched her in awe, occasionally getting up to hug her from behind or give her a kiss on the cheek. She touches her cheek in response and the kettle hums, signalling that it was done. She sips on her tea, holding the steaming mug with shaking hands. Something makes her ears prick up. The sound of the door opening. It is 3.47 a.m. Who would it be at this ungodly hour? She sets her tea down on the counter top as she grabs the knife nearest to her and makes her way towards the entrance. 

The door swings open and Natasha is ready to pounce on her intruder before she realizes who it is and drops the knife.

"Steve?" she says, choking on her own tears she tried so hard to hold back. She runs into his arms and takes comfort in him, inhaling the scent of his body spray and blood. Hold on, blood? She flips the light switch and sees Steve, in his uniform, badly bruised and bleeding from a flesh wound. She takes the first aid kit from the cupboard and leads Steve to sit down on the sofa. He peels off the top of his uniform and Natasha bites her lip when she sees how well toned his chest is. "How did the mission go?" she asks, in an attempt to distract him from the pain. He shakes his head and winces. She gets him all cleaned up and he buries his face in her chest, shaking with sobs. Natasha doesn't know what's wrong but she doesn't ask. She just holds him. He's safe. That's what matters. He's safe and sound in her arms. "I love you," she whispers as he kisses her belly. He knows. And in that moment, she knows that everything is going to be okay. 

A/N: basically tasha is pregnant if anyone didn't get it. once again thank you for reading!! i have a whole bunch of prewritten one-shots to upload just in case i don't write, which will probably happen lol. i've posted the mature ones on tumblr under the same user so if you would like to read ahead by all means.