Promises, Promises 2 [Natasha Romanov x male!Reader]
*A/N: Hey everyone, this is the second part of “Promises, Promises” as requested by ravusWolf. I hope you enjoy it, but I must warn you. I felt this part was pretty… intense and, in my opinion, there’s a lot of emotion!
WARNING: Major warning for mentions of child abuse, torture, and forced infertility. Please, do not read this if that’s it’s a sensitive topic for you. Mentions of alcohol, but the reader is not drinking! No drinking and driving, people!
[Flashback]
“It was a pleasure meeting you, agent Romanov.” (y/n) rushed out, shaking my hand again.
“Natasha. It was nice meeting you too.” I smirked as (y/n) turned to catch up with Bruce.
***
“Hey, Natty.” (y/n) said cheerily, walking into Tony’s lab.
“How many time have I told you not to call me ‘Natty’?”
“As many time as I’ve called you ‘Natty’!” He kissed my cheek and avoided being slapped in the head.
***
“I lived most of my life without you, I think I’ll survive.” I smirked, turning my head to kiss his lips.
[End of Flashback]
[Natasha’s POV]
I have been searching for (y/n) a few months now, coming up to seven, I think. I hadn’t found anything that could lead me to (y/n), everything about him seemed to disappear. Most of his records were scrubbed except a few purchases and such, but nothing about property or land or… ANYTHING. I couldn’t find anything of importance until today, just now. Now, I stare at documents of a ring (y/n) bought. It had a description of the ring, when he bought it, and what it said.
“My promise to you.” The ring’s engravings read.
I looked at the papers, crumpled them up, and threw them in the general direction of the trashcan.
‘That’s not going to help me find (y/n).’ I told myself, sniffling. ‘Great, I’m sniffling.’
I continued to look through the papers, searching for something that’ll lead me to (y/n).
‘But with his bike he can literally go anywhere.’
“Natasha, you need to eat and get some rest.” I never heard Clint walk into the room, but he deposits a plate of food in front of me, making my stomach twist in knots.
“I’m fine, Barton.”
“No, you’re not. Nat, you’re my partner. I need to know you’re ready; we have a mission tomorrow.”
“I’ll be ready.” I snapped at him.
“Fine, okay.”
I returned my attention to the papers, Clint stood near me for a moment before moving toward the door. I could see him pick up the ring documents. I really didn’t want him to read those, but if I stopped him now, he’d see how much it’s effected me.
“Why would (y/n) buy a ring in Maine if he lives in New York?” He gave the papers back to me; I had forgotten to look at where the ring was purchased.
[(y/n)’s POV]
I was in the kitchen making lunch when my phone went off. It was set to only accept Tony’s calls; he better not be messing with me.
“Hey, little bro!” Tony shouted into the phone, having myself pull it away from my ear.
“Tony, I said to call me if there was an emergency.” I reminded him sternly.
‘Jeez, who’s older here.’ I thought.
“Natasha got hurt on a mission, just thought you wanted to know.”
I was stunned and had to lean against the counter for support. “Is she okay?”
“From what I hear, she’ll be fine. She’s the Black Widow for Christ’s sake.” I sighed softly, relieved that she would be alright. “Oh and Natasha’s been looking for you.”
“Why?” I gritted out. “She shouldn’t be.” I cared about Natasha, of course, but I was still mad at her. I was hoping that she’d just leave me alone.
“(y/n), you know why-“
“I don’t know a lot of why’s, Tony.” A frustrated sigh left my body, feeling muscles tense and tighten. “I have to go, got work to do. Thanks for calling.”
“Okay… it’s good to hear from you, (y/n).” Tony said softly, sincere and almost sad.
“You too, stay safe, Tony.”
Tony laughed over the phone. “Do you know who you’re talking to, little bro?” I laughed with him before we hung up.
[Natasha’s POV]
This is it. After seven months of searching for (y/n) and another month of rehab/recuperation, I was finally going to talk to him. I wasn’t nervous, per se. It’s just been a long time since we’ve seen each other and obviously we didn’t part on the best terms. I mean, (y/n) hid in middle of nowhere, Maine, on property no one has ever seen let alone heard of. But the land was beautiful.
(y/n)’s temporary home might as a well be an actual home. It was more like a cabin, but it probably had all the bells and whistles like any state of the art home. I saw (y/n)’s bike, hidden against the side of the house and covered to keep the dust off. There was a pile of wood beside of the porch with stones going all the way around. It was absolutely lovely.
Walking up the steps, I knocked softly and waited. I saw movement and had my hand on my holster, just in case. I knocked again, seeing a shadow in the window. The door was opened roughly and there stood,
“(y/n).”
“What are you doing here, Natasha?” He said curtly.
“I… I came to bring you home.”
“No, point. This is my home.” (y/n) moved to close the door behind him, moving pass me and picking up his ax.
“Doesn’t this place have a heater?” I asked suspiciously.
“It does, but I don’t like to use it all the time, same energy.”
(y/n) set up a log, standing it up right before swing down with the ax; the wood split easily.
“The director wants you back at S.H.I.E.L.D, (y/n).” I said, coming back down the steps. “I was sent here to bring you back.”
“For what?” Another piece of wood was split in half.
“You need to continue your work.”
(y/n) chuckled softly. “You need practice. Your lying is a little iffy.” He turned toward me. I stood confidently as I thought of a way to recover. Lies slipped easily from my lips, but it was a little difficult around (y/n).
“So… Natasha,” (y/n) threw his ax to the side, stepping in front of her. “Why are you really here?”
“I came to bring you back home.”
“Alright… that’s the truth, but it’s not the whole truth.”
I took deep breath. I wasn’t supposed to lay out all the cards just yet, but that’s what got me in trouble in the first place.
“I… I need you home.”
“You never needed me, Natasha.”
“I always did.”
(y/n) gently shook his head, hands on his hips. “You have no right to say that.”
“I know I was wrong, (y/n), and I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.” He countered quickly. “The Natasha I know doesn’t need to apologize, ever.”
“I’m not perfect, I apologize.”
“I know you’re not perfect and I never asked that you be perfect!” He shouted. “What I had hoped, more than anything, is that I’d be good enough for you… And apparently I wasn’t.”
“You don’t understand.” I shouted back. “You still don’t understand.”
“Don’t you dare try to blame me! You’re the one that cheated.”
“I said it was a mistake! You just couldn’t understand…”
“What don’t I understand, Natasha?! Tell me, what don’t I understand.”
“How am I supposed to explain that I was tortured my last mission? How am I supposed to explain that I grew up training and being tortured and pushed back into training again?! Why I’m infertile! How am I supposed to explain any of my life to you?”
None of that was supposed to come out. None of that was supposed to be said, not to (y/n). (y/n) didn’t deserve to have that thrown at him. Now, he’s looking at me like some scary creature, like I’m not the Natasha that he met. I wanted to cry and scream in agony, but I wasn’t raised that way.
I took a much needed deep breath, a break. “The… the agent understood. He grew up the same way. He’s been tortured and… (y/n), it was so easy to just talk to him. I couldn’t talk to you because you wouldn’t understand.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched (y/n) kick the dirt. I heard him sniffle before he said, “You’re right I don’t understand.” I felt my heart ache at his words, I was right. “Doesn’t mean I can’t sympathize.”
“I don’t want-“
“Howard,” He interrupted. “use to beat us sense, Tony and me. Out of everything my old man stood for, what I remember was what he liked to drink… and being sent to the hospital.”
We both took deep breaths, trying to calm ourselves. I had heard stories about Howard Stark and heard Tony talk about him every once in a while. All I could think about was, “Not (y/n).” He didn’t deserve that.
“And it wasn’t always the hospital. I would stay home for weeks sometimes and Jarvis would home school me. Sometimes I wouldn’t even be completely out of the woods and Howard would barge in and he’d hit me. Over and over.” (y/n) laughed bitterly. “Tony, that idiot, took a lot of my beatings.”
(y/n) walked up to me. When we started yelling at each other, we got further and further from each other. Now, he was an arm’s length away from touching me, arms at his sides and looking at me with all the sadness that he could carry in his wonderful heart.
[(y/n)’s POV]
I gently stroked her cheek. I knew Natasha didn’t like a lot of affection, especially when she was having one of her emotional days, but I thought it was needed. She discreetly leaned into my touch as I wrapped my arms around her. Yes, I was mad at her as my ex-girlfriend, but she’d always be a type of friend to me. And right now, she was hurting real bad.
Natasha wrapped her arms around my waist as she let out a shaky breath. “I may not ‘understand,’ Natty, but I can listen. Always.”
We stood there and hugged each other for a while. It was mutual affection and comfort, both of relief and sorrow. Opening so many wounds and digging at them had taken a big toll out of us and right now, I just wanted to hug her.
“Let’s go inside. It’s getting cold.”
“No, we should go back to New York.”
A small smile spread across my lips. “I know you’re eager to get back to New York, but I have some things to save and pack up and there is no way I’m just leaving it here. Kind of clarified.”
Natasha nodded her recognition as I led her inside. I set her on the couch as I made us some coffee. If Natasha wanted to be out of here by tomorrow morning then I’d have to start packing… like two hours ago.
[Epilogue- Third person POV]
It’s been several months since (y/n)’s been back and about two since (y/n) and Natasha have been “together.” Given both of their histories, they decided to take things slow, rebuild what they had and so far it was working.
For starters, Natasha cut off most communication with the other agent, they still work together. The agent understood and said, “Go win back your man.” (y/n) listens to all of Natasha’s work stories, which ever ones she decides to share- good and bad. Natasha works on peeling back her own emotions, while (y/n)’s there for moral support. Though he might not always understand, he promises to be there for her- emotional wounds, physical wounds, mental wounds and all.
It was one of those nights that Natasha and (y/n) had a night off. Knowing that Natasha pulled some strings to get (y/n) out of work, was unbeknownst to him. They decided to go to one of Natasha’s favorite bars. The atmosphere was easy going, casual. There was no special occasion to celebrate because… well… they were “starting over.” To anyone else, they were good friends.
After a bunch of sodas and fried food, (y/n) said,
“You know what I really want, right now?” he said turning to Natasha. “Ice cream.”
“You’re kidding?” She smiled. “Can you be more of a child?”
“Have you seen Tony?” Natasha nearly snorted her drink, laughing along with (y/n). “And besides, you are never too old to enjoy ice cream.”
Outside, Natasha hopped onto (y/n)’s bike, heading to the nearest, and best, ice cream shop they could find. She held on tight as (y/n)’s version of Cloud Strife’s bike zoomed down the streets of New York. Upon arrival, (y/n) slid off his long leather jacket and passed it to Natasha, watching her rub her hands together.
“I’m fine, (y/n).”
“Me, being the gentleman that I am, will not stand here while you try to get warm, while I have a warm jacket right here. Take it, Natasha.”
Natasha kindly took the jacket, (y/n) helping her into it. It looked big on her and almost touched the ground. (y/n) thought Natasha looked cute and he tried to bite back his laughter, which wasn’t hard when she punched him in the shoulder.
“Aw, Natty!” he exclaimed.
“Not a word, Stark.”
(y/n) smiled and swung his arm around her shoulders, pulling Natasha into the shop. They ordered and sat down at a little table outside of the ice cream shop. They talked some more and laughed, which made Natasha spill some of her ice cream.
“Sorry, (y/n).” She said as she handed him napkins and tried to help him clean up the mess.
“It’s okay.” Natasha pulled her hand back and placed it over her pocket.
(y/n) looked around for a place to throw the soiled napkins.
“Trashcan’s behind you.” As soon as (y/n) turned around, Natasha stuffed the ring into his ice cream. The tips of her fingers were cold and sticky in her hasty attempt to surprise him.
“Natasha?” (y/n) asked as he turned back around and looked at his ice cream, seeing the edges of something shiny in it. “What’s this?”
She quickly stuffed a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth to keep from saying anything stupid, while (y/n) dug out the silver band. Carefully cleaning off the sticky metal, he caught sight of the tiny engravings.
‘My promise to you.’
“So… you saw your ring. Is this you giving it back?”
Natasha furiously shook her head, her red curls shifting back and forth beautifully.
“No, this is your ring.”
“You never saw the ring?” He said, confused.
“I did… (y/n), you shouldn’t have to make promises to me-“
“But-“
“Let me finish.” She took a deep breath, slowly playing with a cup of melting ice cream. “You shouldn’t have to make promises to me because you always keep yours. I can’t, occupational hazard. But I really want to keep this one so,” Natasha stood and got down on one knee. “(y/n) Stark, will you marry me?”
“Hey, that was supposed to be my line.”
“Get over it, Stark… What’s your answer?” Natasha said softly.
“Yes, I will marry you.” (y/n) leaned down to kiss her and pulled her up with him. “If you’ll marry me.” He dropped down to one knee and pulled out another ring.
“Who told you?” Natasha asked accusingly.
“Who told me what, Natty?” (y/n) said innocently, completed with the Stark look of innocence, which quickly melted under Natasha’s stare. “There was a conspiracy, but I won’t give out names.”
Natasha grabbed (y/n) by the collar of his shirt, bringing him up to her.
“Sweety, talk.”
“No.”
Commence major stare down. Guess who wins.
[“Someone’s” Hiding Place]
“Do you think we’re safe?”
“Do you think (y/n) can keep his mouth shut?”
“Around Natasha, are you kidding me?”
“Well she hasn’t found-“
“Hey, boys.”
Manly (*cough*girly*cough*) screams were heard that night and many complaints were filed.
No comments:
Post a Comment