Marvel Oneshots

‣Knock, Knock⇢Romanogers

Steve Rogers was sitting quietly in his apartment, minding his own business. He sat on the black leather couch, one leg crossed over the other as he watched the television blankly in front of him. He propped his arm up on the arm of the couch, a serious expression plastered on his face. 

Suddenly, there was a sharp, knocking noise coming from what seemed like the door to his apartment. He looked over, a bit confused and slightly skeptical, wondering who possibly would want his company this time at night. He quickly pulled his small android phone out of his back pocket to check the time, which read 12:13 a.m. He sighed and made his way over to the door, possibly thinking he was crazy for answering it. For all he knew, it could be anyone.

He never expected anyone to come knocking on his door, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Especially unusually late at night. 

Steve opened the door, only to reveal that a red-headed, pale woman was standing in front of him.

He immediately recognized the woman as Natasha Romanoff, the Russian Avenger, the Black Widow.

He looked her over quickly, noticing something was different, the bad kind of different, about her.

Natasha looked up at Steve with her sharp gaze, breathing as if she was exhausted. Her usually red, sleek hair was now muddled, and her face covered in what seemed like ashes. 

"Steve... before you say anything-"

"Natasha." Steve said, cutting her off and raising an eyebrow at the sight of her condition. He placed a hand on her shoulder firmly, pulling her inside his apartment.

Nat winced at Steve's grip, although she tried to hide the pain. She always hid her pain, she never wanted to show any, even after the Red Room. 

She always hid her past from anyone.

Even the people she trusted. 

"You're wounded. I need to get-" Steve started. 

"No, Steve. I'm fine." Natasha said as she glared at him while holding her shoulder.

Steve held up his hand, covered in red blood, her blood. 

"Is this what you call okay, Natasha?" he asked, his tone harsh. 

"I was shot in the shoulder, took a bullet," she said calmly. 

"Yeah, well you're not invincible." Steve replied. He walked off towards the bathroom, getting medical supplies for Natasha wound. 

"I'm breakable..." Natasha quietly said under her breath, sighing heavily. 

Steve walked back to the living room with a large box full of bandages and other medical supplies, placing the down on the table and motioned for Natasha to sit down. She sat on a kitchen chair, looking over at Steve. 

"Could've been worse. I almost got hit on a major artery." Nat said nonchalantly.

Steve stayed silent, with no reply. He just focused on mending Natasha's shoulder, which was bleeding non-stop. 

"Why did you come here? Why not S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, or even Clint?" Steve asked her curiously.

"Well, first of all, I wasn't on a mission for S.H.I.E.L.D.. If I reported there, they would have found out what I went out for. Would've been in big trouble." She said, shaking her head. "Clint... well. I didn't want to scare his kids. Aunty Nat has a good reputation." 

Steve slightly smiled at her explanation.

There was something about Natasha that he had always liked, though he couldn't quite pin down what it was about her that made him fond of her. 

"Well... I'm glad you came here." Steve said, his smile visible.

"What makes you say that?" Natasha asked. "I basically came knocking on your door for medical attention and a place to crash for the night." 

Steve sat down next to her, staring at her, thinking while he pressed his lips together in a straight line before answering her. 

Natasha slightly smiled as well, looking at Steve's expression. 

She then leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. 

Steve looked over at her, rubbing her arm and pulling her into a hug. 

"I just... care for you." Steve replied. 

Natasha looked up at him, glancing at his lips. 

Then, all of the sudden, their lips her intertwined, sharing a sweet moment.