Work Text:
You gripped your backpack straps nervously as you stared at the new school. After just moving to Ohio, your family moving around constantly due to your father working for SHIELD, it meant another new school. That was nothing new, but still you hated the feeling.
Without a parent here to support you, you had to find your classroom on your own. Bright colors greeted you upon entering the classroom, and a bright, cheery teacher. This was the type of room you expected for kindergarten - the bright colors, motivational posters...all that good stuff-, but fourth grade seemed a bit old for that.
After being greeted by your teacher, who adorned circle glasses and had her brunette hair pulled into a low bun, you were sat in the corner with a blonde girl behind you and a red-headed boy, who kept picking his nose, next to you. Crinkling your nose in disgust, you settled in and awaited a lecture from your teacher who had too pitchy of a voice for your taste.
Throughout the lecture the girl behind you, you think the teacher called her Caroline, kept kicking your seat and catapulting spit wads at you. They fell the to floor silently, a few sticking to your hair. Once again, the bullying was nothing new.
After finally being released for lunch, you ventured towards the cafeteria with your lunchbox in hand. Scanning the area for a quiet corner you couldn't quite find one, the best place being a spot in the back occupied only by a blue-haired girl. You scanned the area one more time to make sure there were no more seats available for reluctantly heading over towards the girl. The blue-haired girl glanced up at you as you sat on the farthest end of the bench. She looked you up and down with green eyes, almost a blue-shade but still green, before looking down and doodling on her notebook.
Electing to ignore her, you plucked your lone orange out of lunch bag and scarfed it down - being the only thing you've eaten all day. The girl eyed you weirdly, making you realize you probably ate the orange like a rabid animal, but at this point you could care less.
"Do you need more food?" her quiet voice spoke up.
You whipped your head up to look at her with wide eyes and rosy cheeks.
"I- um- if you have some," your lips felt heavy when you tried to force words past your lips as her caring eyes gazed at you and passed over half a sandwich.
"Aren't you hungry?" you asked, "and thanks."
The girl shrugged, "Eh, you seem hungrier."
"Thanks," you mumbled, "My name's Y/N."
There wasn't a response for a long moment, before eventually the girl replied, "Natasha."
"Nice to meet you, Natasha."
<_____________>
Throughout the next few weeks, you and Natasha slowly became friends. Very awkward friends. You, being scared to make a friend for fear of having to move, and her being...you didn't actually know, she just didn't seem keen on making friends. Maybe she was just shy.
Your cheek ached subconsciously as you wandered into school the next day. The hand shapped bruise forming under you hoodie was a testament to the rough night you had, and the bruise on your cheek wasn't easy to cover up with makeup. Natasha greeted you quietly in the halls before narrowing her eyes at your cheek.
She grabbed your chin and turned your head side to side, "Are you wearing makeup?"
You slapped her hand away, "No."
With a huff you started walking away.
"I know you’re lying," she accused, "I can see the tiny little grains of makeup. Crappy makeup."
You exhaled through your nose, "I'm not wearing makeup Natasha."
Natash glared at you, making her annoyance clear, before stomping ahead towards class. You puffed up your cheeks in frustration before trailing after her. After taking your usual seat and pulling out your notebook, you glanced at Natasha across the room. Even though you could tell she knew you were staring, she always did, the blue-haired girl kept her head ducked and was doodling in her notebook. You decided to do the same, or you were planning to but the girl behind you kept chucking spit wads in your hair.
By the end of class, you are certain that at least three crumbled up, wet, paper balls had slid down your back. Snatching up your backpack and pulling out your lunch, you marched towards the cafeteria and took your usual seat. For the first time in a few weeks, you and Natasha sat opposite each other and didn't talk.
Just as you were about to eat the cookie you had been saving for a few days after receiving it from a family friend, your mother not allowing you any and you had to sneak this one, Caroline came and plucked it out of your hand.
"Hey!" you scrambled out of your seat to try and grab but the girl danced away with a taunting laugh.
"Give it back!"
Caroline shoved half of it in her mouth, chewing mockingly, before dropping the other half and squishing it with her foot, "Oops."
Your face burned red when you noticed at least half the cafeteria was staring, no doubt noticing your screeching. Just as you were about the sulk back over to your seat, a mop of blue hair shoved Caroline to the ground.
Natasha stood above her with crossed arms and a scowl firmly implanted on her face, "You owe her a cookie."
"No, I don't," Caroline contradicted.
"Yes," Natasha disagreed firmly, "You do."
Something in Caroline changed, you weren't sure what, but she nodded quickly before scrambling to her feet and nearly running away. Natasha turned towards you, her eyes glittering with concern.
"You, ok?"
"Fine." you responded, your voice curt.
"Are you made at me about earlier?" Natasha asked as you both took your seats once more, this time sitting a bit closer.
"Maybe," you shrugged, "I also thought you were mad at me."
"Oh..." Natasha trailed off and cleared out the air in cheeks, contemplating her response, "I'm not mad at you...Sorry."
You blinked owlishly at her before replying, "I'm sorry for being stubborn too."
She smiled at you, a small, genuine one and you smiled back. A small ache developed in your chest, one you couldn't quite place.
That was the only fight you ever had with her, and for the next two years Natasha would be your best friend. She would be your sun in the dark.
<___________>
Overtime, you and Natasha hung out more. You read together at the library, went to the Starbucks down the street once a month to get drinks with allowance money, and sometimes you two snuck out of your houses and laid together in a tree staring at the stars. It was the same tree every time, this one near the school. You would both dress in your school clothes and bring your backpacks before sleeping next to each other in the tree.
"Natasha?" you asked one night after the first day of fifth grade, gazing at the stars through the leaves of the tree, "Do you think we'll always be like this?"
"Huh? Where'd that come from?" she turned her head to look at you and lay on her side.
"Uh- well-" you shrugged awkwardly, "Just thinking out loud."
Natasha thought for a moment before propping herself up on her elbow, "I doubt we'll be together forever. Isn't that what growing up is all about?"
"I guess," you murmured.
The two of you brewed in silence for a moment, you gazing up at Natasha from where she had propped herself up her elbow, and her looking down on you with kindness in her eyes.
"I don't think I want to grow up," you whispered into the dark.
"....neither do I."
Natasha shifted to lay down and you both casted your gaze back to the stars. There was that small ache in your chest again, one that made it feel like your chest was about to explode with some overwhelming feeling, but still you couldn't place it. Not after having known Natasha all those years.
"I wish we could be like this forever," you announced.
You thought you heard Natasha sniffle slightly before she replied, "Me too."
<_______________>
Despite being friends all throughout fourth grade and half of fifth grade, you and Natasha had never been to each other’s houses. Not once in the entire near two years of knowing each other had you gone to each other's houses. Neither of you brought it up. Group projects were done at the library or the park, you met up at Starbucks down the street. It was never mentioned why home seemed to be avoided.
However, you had met her mother - a brunette woman with stern eyes but a kind voice. She smiled at you and asked about your parents and your life. If you enjoyed school. If you father ever talked about his work (You didn't mention that he was nearly never home, and the times he was wasn't used for work). What your favorite color was. All the basic stuff. You decided you liked Mrs. Melina.
Natasha's little sister was with her the day you met her mom at the park. Her younger sister, a blonde who was named Yelena, was a bright girl with a toothy smile. She babbled to you about horses, one of her favorite animals, and her favorite TV shows, and how her daddy was going to take her on a big adventure one day. (You missed the way Natasha winced at that last one, and her eyes fogged over slightly.)
Then one day, Natasha invited you over with a hesitant smile, "My mom was saying if you and your parents wanted to come over for dinner next week...."
"Um-" you rubbed the back of your neck, "My dad isn't due to be back for a few weeks, and my mum works all nights." The second was a lie, your mother didn’t work.
"Oh," Natasha deflated slightly before brightening back up, "You can come over still if you want."
"I would love to."
There was that tiny little feeling in your chest that made it feel heavy with emotion as you accepted her offer, but you still couldn't place it.
With spring break coming up, you and Natasha didn't see each other as often, neither of you having excuses to leave the house. Despite that you were both determined for you to come over for dinner.
After practically buzzing with excitement you snuck out of the house, your mother passed out on the couch with her arm slung over her head, and made your way over to Natasha's on your bike. She had told you her address, so you were able to figure out where it was.
When you arrived, there was a new car in the driveway and a moving truck. Hesitantly you creeped up the steps and knocked on the door. It took a moment before it swung open to reveal an elderly lady with gold rimmed glasses and grey hair. She smiled at you kindly, but with confusion in her eyes.
"How can I help you sweetie?"
"Um..." you fumbled slightly before responding, "I'm looking for the Romanoff household?"
The woman tilted her head slightly before hollering back into the house, "Jaime!"
A young man, maybe a few years older than you came skidding into view, his hair disheveled, "Yes, grandma?"
"Have you heard of the Romanoffs?"
You nervously fiddled with your thumbs.
"Oh!" the boy perked up, "they were the family who lived here before us."
"Do you maybe know why they left?" you asked.
"No, sweetie," the woman glanced at you with pity, "I'm sorry if you knew them."
"Thank you," you whispered, "I'm sorry for wasting your time."
As you started to walk away the older woman stopped you and told you to wait. She walked back into her house for a moment, her grandson following, and it took everything in you to contain your tears to before you left. The woman came back with a baggie filled with chocolate chips and passed them towards you.
"Take care," she murmured, "Eat some more. You're looking skinny."
You thanked the woman profusely before hopping on your bike.
Tears streaked down your face as you biked back towards your house. Natasha just left . She left and didn't tell you. Natasha was your best friend and she left without telling you. That hurt more than your mothers punches did. For once, you thought you made real someone, someone you thought you could dare to call your best friends. Yet, she left without a word.
It was hard sneaking into the house without sobbing violently and waking up your mother, but once you made it took your room you collapsed into heaving sobs.
You had made friends before, but none as good as Natasha. She defended you, she gave you extra food, and you looked after each other. Then she just up and left. With a surge of anger to rushed to your feet and yanked all the photos of the wall of you too. You tore them down and threw them in the trash. All but one.
Carefully, you cradled one photo in your hand. It was your birthday - one of the only days your father visited. He heard about Natasha and offered to take you two out. You guys went to a trampoline park, and after being sweaty with messed up hair ate pizza and birthday cake.
This photo stared you and Natasha smiling wide toothy smiles, you missing a middle top tooth, and arms wrapped around each other. Cake frosting was covering your faces, and your father was laughing behind you - his hand on his stomach and the other holding a cake platter. The photo was taken by a family friend who dropped off the cake.
You tucked that into a drawer by your bed and decided you wouldn't think of Natasha Romanoff anymore. She was gone and there was nothing you could do about it.
<__________>
Deciding to take after your father, you joined SHIELD straight out of collage. With straight A's and a good word put in from your father, you got accepted immediately. You quickly climbed the ranks, being level five by the time you were twenty two.
Then you heard a name you hadn't heard in a long time.
"Bro-" one of your bunkmates and teammates, Connor, exclaimed, "did you hear about the crazy assassin they brought in? Apparently she's from this place called the Red Room and Clint Barton brought her in even though he was supposed to kill her."
"I heard she has over 50 assassinations," your other teammate, Carmen murmured.
After finishing the year of rookie training, you had been assigned four teammates. For the last three years they had been your team and bunkmates. There was Connor, Olivia, Marcus, and for a while Clint Barton was part of that. You were probably the closest with him, but you were all a team - and dare you say friends. Then Clint Barton got reassigned to Agent Coulson's team and he was replaced with Barbara, Bobbi, Morse.
"Clint said that he just couldn't kill her," you chimed in. Clint still kept in contact with you, texting nearly every day.
"Does anyone have a name?" Bobbi asked as she waltzed in wearing a lab coat.
"Woah!" Marcus exclaimed, jolting upright from where he sat upside-down on his bed, "Where'd you come from."
Everyone ignored him, per usual, before Connor responded, "Natasha Romanoff, well Natalia Romanova, but I heard she changed it."
Time seemed to slow for a minute. Natasha Romanoff...you had heard that name before. Natasha Romanoff.....
It came back to you in a rush.
A mop of blue hair.
A tentative smile, but still wide and cheerful none the less.
A girl standing up for you after you got bullied.
A photo you still kept in your safe-keeps box.
A sun shinning down on your really crappy life.
Nearly two years of friendship thrown out the window.
Natasha Romanoff, you best childhood friend. Really your only childhood friend. She was back and apparently an assassin. And in SHIELD.
Well this threw a wrench in your plans to completely forget about her.
<_____________>
Over the next few years you watched Natasha Romanoff climb the ranks of SHIELD, then you watched her become an avenger. Her hair was red now, so different from her short, blue mop of hair. Her eyes were greener, not the blue-ish green they used to be. Her features were more defined, obviously. No, you were not stalking her, but when your old childhood friend joins your workplace, anyone would keep up with what they were doing. Right? Right.
You and Clint still texted frequently texted, but he never brought up his Avenger friends, so you never brought up your old connection to Natasha.
When SHIELD crashed, you were lacking a job. Severely. That was your entire life. Ever since you dad passed a few years back, you had no home to go to. Your mom was out of the question, so that ruled out any family. However, Clint invited you over for Christmas, and you had been going for every major holiday since. Until he mentioned he would start bringing Natasha over, every year after that you made an excuse not to go. Clint was starting to get tired of it.
But regardless, SHIELD was crashed, and you couldn't go stay with Clint. The chance of running into Natasha were too high, and you didn't want to burden him like that. Then, after you barely scrapping by with rent on your new apartment, Clint texted you.
Clint Barton - 10:27
Hey Dummy, I found you a job
You pulled out phone before typing a reply back.
You - 10:28
Where?
Clint Barton - 10:28
The Tower. Tony's, really the whole team, is looking for someone to help run backend (SHIELD may have crashed but we still have missions) and do paper work for us (ever since Tony hired Maria a few days ago, she's been on top of that). I can tell him I got a g'all for the job if your interested.
You hesitated. Working at the tower and running backend would mean you would have to interact with Natasha, but you also didn't have a choice. You needed that job because soon enough you wouldn't be able to pay rent.
Clint Barton - 10:31
Tony says he's willing to give you an apartment in the tower for free
Your reply was instant.
You - 10:31
I'm in.
<____________>
Moving into the tower wasn't difficult, you had minimal stuff - a few photos of your and father, clothes, plus your keepsakes box. You pinned the photos up in your room, a luxurious space with a floor to ceiling window on one wall, cream colored walls, a walk in closet, and bathroom attached. The clothes were placed in the closet and you shoved the keepsakes box under the queen sized bed.
At first you tried telling Stark it was too much, but he shook his finger in your face and said, "Too late. Besides I need you on stand by in case we need anything."
Clint told you that you should come to dinner tonight on the 98th floor - the communal floor and eight floors above you -, so that you could get to know everyone. You showered, now letting your hair smell of strawberries and lavender, and dressed in casual, but nice clothes. A black blouse and dark blue jeans with some flats. Work casual more like it.
When you arrived the entire avengers team was staring at you, all but one. Everyone was there, Clint, Tony Stark, Thor Oddison, Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers. The only one missing was Natasha.
Rogers stood to greet you, "It's a pleasure to meet you miss..."
"Y/L/N," you introduced, "Y/N Y/L/N."
He stuck out his hand, "Pleasure to meet you Ms. Y/L/N. Steve Rogers."
You shook his hand firmly in return.
"Cap, when you're done being a gentlemen can we eat please?" Tony called out, his tone overdramatic.
Steve walked you over to the table and pulled out a chair for you.
"It is nice to meet you lady Y/L/N!" Thor exclaimed as he served himself a large portion of spaghetti, "I'm sure we will get along nicely."
You smiled kindly in return, "I'm sure we will," you glanced around once more, mainly for show before asking, "Where's Black Widow?"
"Oh, she's out with her girlfriend," Tony threw out casually, making kissy faces, "They're probably sucking face right now."
"Can we not at the table?" Steve asked as he elbowed Tony.
"I second that," Banner interrupted.
"I think it's quite sweet that lady Natasha and lady Maria find joy in each other!" Thor announced.
The entire time your head was realing. Natasha had a girlfriend..? For some reason that stung, deep and hard. It cut straight to your heart and laid heavy in your chest. Her girlfriend was Maria, you assumed Maria Hill. A feeling, akin to jealousy (but it couldn't be jealousy, no way. You didn't get jealous over relationships.), kindled in your chest. Maria had always gotten what you wanted. You had trained with her in the academy, she always had better grades. And now...she had your childhood friend. That was fine. You were fine.
Dinner went smoothly, you all conversing with each other. When you were done you excused yourself, cleared your plate, and said you wanted to get an early start tomorrow so you were going to turn in. Steve smiled kindly at you and offered to walk you back to your room. You declined and made your way back to elevator. Just as you were about the hit the up button the door dinged and out stepped Natasha Romanoff and Maria Hill.
For a moment your brain forgot how to function. Natasha wore a red, sleeveless shirt with a black skirt and matching heels. Silver earrings lined her ears, with a gold necklace. Her hair flowed down in soft waves and curled inwards at her shoulders. Her face looked like it was carved out of marble, her jawline perfect and cheekbones beautiful. Red lipstick highlighted her lips as she laughed at something Maria said, and her cheeks lit up in a rosy red.
Her eyes, green as ever, darted towards you stepping towards the elevator and her eyes widened.
The two of you stared at each other for a long moment, everyone else forgotten.
"Y/N?" she questioned, her voice no more than a whisper.
"Natasha." you greeted with a curt nod, "I was just going to my room."
You strode past them, the ache in your chest gone and filled with a familiar feeling - anger. Years of anger, anger at her for leaving when you needed her most, leaving without telling you, and not even bothering to look. You had searched for months, with what limited resources you had. And here she was, with a girlfriend and being an avenger.
Her voice called out to you as you stepped into the elevator and you saw her rushing towards you as the elevator door closed.
<____________>
Once you got to your room, you promptly pulled out your keep-sake box and dug around in it for a special photo. Pulling it out was the photo of you and Natasha on your birthday, your dad in the back. You traced your finger over the scratch marks, and all the little details on the photos. Tears sprang into your eyes as you remembered those days.
Natasha really was your only friend. When you needed her most, the days when your father left more, and your mother started drinking more. She was gone, and you needed a friend. You don't think you made friends after that, other your bunkmates and Clint.
But now she was back in your life.
God you were so stupid to accept the job. You should have just found somewhere else. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"Y/N...?" a voice called through your door followed by a hesitant knock.
You didn't want to open the door, but if you were going to work here you might as well talk it out. With slow, heavy steps you walked over and opened the door a crack to reveal Natasha.
"Can I come in?"
You opened to door further to let her in and she took a look around.
"I see you haven't decorated much."
"I didn't have much to decorate with," you shrugged.
She sighed, "Y/N..."
"What do you want Nat?"
Natasha flinched slightly, "I get your mad at me. I left without a trace. I'm- I'm really sorry for that," she ducked her head, "but- I really didn't have a choice."
"Was our friendship even real? Or were you just using me to get closer to my dad?" you accused. You heard about her mission once she joined SHIELD. Natasha had been sent to Ohio, undercover, to gather SHIELD date.
"If you want it to be real," she mumbled.
"I do," you whispered, "but do you think it was real?"
"I think it was the only real thing about that mission."
You sighed and rubbed your forehead.
"Look- I want to start over. Re-do," she proposed and stuck her hand out.
You smiled at her familiar antics, anger forgotten (you never could stay mad at her), and stuck your hand out to shake hers, "Y/N Y/L/N"
"Natasha Romanoff," she smiled back at you.
<___________>
A few years later you were standing in a pale red dress, not pink, and holding a bouquet of flowers.
"Natasha Romanoff, do you take Maria Hill to be your bride?"
You wished Natasha would look at you the way she looked at Maria.
"I do," the red-head murmured.
"You may kiss the bride."
Cheers erupted as Natasha and Maria kissed, slow and soft. Natasha's white dress spilled out behind her, not too long, but still beautiful and matching Maria's black suit.
Everyone migrated to the ceremony and you tried to be happy for your best friends as they shared their first dance. Over the last few years you had become really close with Maria and Natasha, although you and Maria had a bit of a rockier start - even rockier than you and Nat. But you got along eventually.
That ache in your chest resurfaced, that one feeling you didn't think you would ever identify, but it was still there. Natasha twirled in her wife's arms as Wanda leaned over to you.
"I can hear your thoughts," she whispered, her accent thick, "I'm sorry."
"Why?"
Wanda gave you a look, "You love her do you not?"
And suddenly, that ache in your chest made sense, "I guess I do." You realized that feeling was love.
But Natasha was married and happy, so that would have to be enough for you.