Nina Petrova, hidden sister of Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova. Another Widow in disguise, loses her sister Natasha in the fight with Thanos. Every day afterwards, Nina struggles to find herself carrying the guilt of her sister's death around.
N...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
372 Days After
Nina's POV
After I finish getting dressed, I text Sam and Bucky that I was on the way. Even though, it was slightly a lie, I wasn't far off. I just had to put on my shoes and head out the door. I grab my keys by the door, and lock the door behind me. When I get into my car, I rush through the city to meet them at some Italian place near the compound.
When I park, I run in, and get greeted by the hostess, and slip past her towards the table. I flick Bucky on the back of the head since his back is facing me, and he groans and turns around to see me.
"Afternoon dumb and dumber." I greet them, and they both roll their eyes.
"What a jokester." Sam sarcastically comments, and I sit myself in between them.
"Order me a drink yet?" I ask, and Bucky rolls his eyes.
"Tequila with pineapple juice." Bucky answers and I smile at him.
"Oh, he knows me. I'm touched." I joke, and he pretends to laugh at my joke.
"Speaking of being touched, are you guys getting any? It would probably help with your RBF you always have." I add, and they furrow their brows at me, and shift in their seats.
"Coming from you, queen of RBF." Sam chimes in, and I stick my tongue out at him. I thank the server when he comes and brings me my drink, and we order our lunches.
"What about you?" Bucky asks, and I set down my drink.
"What about me?"
"You seeing anyone?" He adds, and I think to last night when his best friend was deep inside me, with his hands all over my body, and I feel my legs cross underneath the table, just thinking about it. Vanilla sex, but it was definitely good sex.
"Come on, you know I don't date." I answer, and he tilts his head, agreeing with me.
"You don't date, but you do everything else besides the whole labeling thing." Sam comments, and I glare at him.
"There's nothing wrong with that." I add, and he chuckles.
"Did Pepper tell you about Morgan's little party next weekend?" Sam asks, and I nod, taking a bite into my salad.
"Yeah, interesting that a kid wants to be with adults for her birthday." I mention, and I smile. "I'll be there." I add.
After a surprisingly enjoyable lunch, I head back to my apartment. After I park on the street nearby, I start walking towards my apartment, when I hear a girl's scream nearby. I run towards the sound, and see a girl pinned to a wall in an alley. I pull out my gun, and walk towards them, seeing a man pinning her down by her arms.
"Let her go." I demand through my teeth, and he turns to look at my gun pointed right at his head, and slowly backs away from the girl. She rushes towards me, and I holster my gun behind me.
"Are you okay?" I ask her, and she nods. When I turn to look back at the scumbag who was about to do God knows what to her, he has a gun pulled out at me, and shoots me. I fall back, clutching my arm, and he runs away.
"Go run!" I tell the girl, and she gasps and does so, running for her life running the opposite direction. I groan out in pain, and roll over to my other side, so I can sit up easier.
"So much for being a hero." I mutter to myself, and force myself up. I clutch my bleeding arm, and start walking out of the alley. I look around at where I am, and I'm losing blood faster than I thought I would. I recognize the building down the street, and walk towards it, making it seem like I didn't just get shot in an alley. I take the elevator up, dripping blood in the elevator, and knocking on the 3rd door on my left. Shortly, the door opens and I'm greeted by a shirtless Steve.
"Nina?" He asks surprised at my appearance.
"Care to help a fuck buddy out?" I joke, and he opens the door wider, and I walk in, and pull a chair out from his kitchen and sit myself, and struggle to take my jacket off.
"What the hell happened?" Steve asks me, and sets a huge first aid kit down on the table.
"Asshole ruined my jacket." I answer, and he looks up at me, and glares, and I sigh.
"This guy had this girl pinned in an alley and I went to go help, and he shot me, then ran." I explain, and he takes a towel to rub some of the blood off of me, to get a better look.
"No exit wound, one bullet. Should be easy to take out." I add, and he looks back at me, like he was really worried about me. "I'll live." I reassure him, and he looks back at my arm, wiping it down, and getting some tools out of the box.
He gets back up and grabs me a bottle of vodka, and hands it to me. I put it in my lap, unscrewing it with my free hand.
"This is gonna sting." Steve informs me, and I look at the bottle of rubbing alcohol in his hands. I take a big gulp of vodka, then he pours it on my arm to clean the site. I clench my jaw, and shift in my seat slightly. Steve then goes to grab a pair of long tweezers and holds them right in front of my arm.
"Just do it, I've gone through worse." I tell him, and he shakes his head at my comment, and digs the tweezers in my arm, and I wince, and drink more vodka.
What seem to have felt like hours, it was actually a few minutes until Steve finally pulls out the bullet.
"Got it." He mumbles, and I groan. He pours a little more alcohol on my arm, and then helps me wrap it.
"Thanks." I mention, and he smiles at me sweetly, and cleans up the mess I've made.
"I take it that it wasn't your first time getting shot." He brings up, and I laugh.
"Definitely not the first, probably won't be the last." I comment, and he frowns. I stand up too quickly, and stumble back on the seat.
"Woah, where do you think you're going?" Steve asks me, putting his hand on my shoulder.
"Home." I answer, and when I try to get up again, he stands in front of me, crossing his arms, exposing his broad shoulders.
"Oh, no you're not. You lost a lot of blood, you're staying here." He demands, and I roll my eyes. I'm surprised when he uses his index finger to lift my chin up to look at him.
"Just let me take care of you." He adds softly, and I sigh. He's being sweet, but I can't ruin his kindness with my darkness.
"I can take care of myself." I spit, and I move his finger away from me. I stand up, and he takes a step back, leaning against the counter behind him, and gripping the edges.
"No one said you couldn't. I'm just saying to let someone take care of you for a change." He adds, and I roll my eyes again.
"Fine." I give in, and he smiles, taking a step towards me again and cups my cheeks to kiss me. I feel like putty in his hands, right then and there. Steve Rogers, what are you doing to me?
