The Dressmaker
It was always something you did as a hobby, something to keep your hands busy and the thoughts at bay. You made dresses and tailored suits for your fellow avengers. They would always take advantage of your skills. You had agreed to make outfits for, Jane, Pepper, Maria, Wanda and Natasha. It was going to be a special party, so none of them could resist a one off piece from their favourite dress maker turned Avenger.
The last to be made was Natasha’s. You two had spent hours on the design, giving her something that was classy and sexy, all that was left was the fitting. You two got talking as you measured her. “Where did you learn to fight?” she asked, seeing it as being odd that a dress maker should have your kills in hand to hand combat.
“I used to be in MI6” you said as you took note of her height. “I didn’t think MI6 hired mutants, and you are way too young to have been an MI6 operative” she said you measured the width of her shoulders.
“It was a cold war hang over” you said, using all your training to keep your voice steady. “When the USSR collapsed they uncovered evidence of a training programme that enhanced children”. Natasha knew what programme that was, the Red Room programme and the Black Widow serum. “The US and UK set up a programme where they would train and enhance mutant children”. It stunned Natasha how you could speak so candidly, she couldn’t tell that this was the first time you had said anything out loud.
“Why did you leave MI6” she asked, part of her blamed herself for what happened to you. If she didn’t exist, no one would have known the Black Widow programme was successful.
“I got a better offer from the Kingsmen when I turned 15. I broke down soon after, I couldn’t deal with all the lies and deception.” Natasha smiled, “And that’s when you became the Warden” she said using the name the papers gave you. “Yep” you said as you rolled up your tape measure.
Natasha sat on your bed as she watched you work. She did this most days. She didn’t know why at first. Was it because you were always honest when you talked to her? Was it because she felt safe around you? She had asked herself these questions for months before she conceded, the Black Widow had fallen for someone who was trained to be her anti-venom.
It was a few days after Natasha’s final fitting and you were making the final adjustments as she perused through your collection of fabrics. “Which one is your dress made from?” she asked as she paused at a (y/f/c) fabric, it was soft and sooth under her fingers.
“What dress?” you asked, as you had many in your wardrobe.
“For Tony’s party” she said as she pictured you in a dress made from the material she was touching.
“Oh I’m not going” you said causing Natasha to turn to face you.
“Why?” she asked, now sitting on the chair next to you, as you turned off your sewing machine.
“I just don’t feel like it” you said as you caught her eye, “They aren’t really my thing”. It wasn’t entirely a lie, they weren’t your thing and they reminded you of your past line of work.
“Come on (y/n), its not a party without you there” you sighed and got back to work on Natasha’s dress.
“I’ll think about it” you said hopping Natasha would drop the subject.
Natasha picked up your sketch book and a pencil, “If I design a dress you like, will you go?” You smiled slightly, “Okay”. You gave in, only because Natasha really wanted you to go. Truth be told, you went because you liked to see the Russian happy. You had fallen for her, but had already admitted to yourself that she wouldn’t like you back. “Promise?” Natasha asked, holding out her pinky finger smirking. You took it in yours and said “Promise”.
For the next half an hour the only sound in your room was the sound of your sewing machine as you finished Natasha’s dress and the sound of Natasha drawing furiously with a pencil. You were putting Natasha’s dress on a hanger when you felt her tap on your shoulder. “What about this” she said as she handed you the sketch. You were taken back by the images that almost danced across the page. The dress was perfect, and in your favourite colour.
“Its perfect Nat” you said as you looked back at her.
Natasha started to feel her cheeks warm under your gaze so she turned around, “Well we should get you fitted then” she said.
“What fabric were you thinking of?” you asked as she got the measuring tape. “This one” she said as she handed you the swatch of fabric. You nodded smiling, “my favourite one, you know me so well”. Natasha smiled to herself as she took down your measurements.
She was stood in front of you as she made the final measurement. She didn’t know what came over her. All of a sudden she was leaning in to kiss you. Her lips were on yours, she could feel you kiss back. Her mind was going 100 miles per hour. She pulled away quickly. This was not how she planned. This was not in her nature, no. She couldn’t, you deserved better. You were forced into MI6 because of her. You were too good. “I have to go” she said before taking her dress and running out of the room, leaving you speechless.
You didn’t know what to think. She kissed you and ran. The woman you had grown to love and trust had ran. You knew Natasha, you knew she would have to come to you herself. You could feel a pain in your chest. You remembered the look of sheer terror on her face as she pulled away. You remembered how the hot tears trailed down your face after she closed the door. You spent your spare time in your room, with Natasha’s design. After all, a promise is a promise.
You turned up to the party by yourself and took a seat at the corner of the bar. You knew she was there but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at her. You knew what she would look like. Her red hair would have a curl. Her lips would be coated in red lipstick. Black dress would hug her slender frame, a patterned lace would adorn her chest, shoulders and upper arms. She would wear back heels. What you didn’t know was that she was wearing the necklace you got her for her birthday. You didn’t know that she was wearing the perfume you complimented once. You didn’t know she was wearing the ear rings you helped her pick out for Steve’s Birthday party the month before. You didn’t know that her eyes hadn’t left you since you walked in.
It hurt her more than she would admit. She watched you in the (y/f/c) dress that she designed. You were more beautiful than she could imagine. But you were in pain, she could tell that. From the way your steps were lighter than usual. The way that you hid in the corner. The way that you wanted to disappear, but to her you could never disappear.
Her jaw clenched involuntarily when she saw her. When she saw, Cat; a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent who made no secret about her crush on you. She watched as Cat flirted, as she touched your arm. Then she caught the look on your face. You were uncomfortable, she could tell you wanted to get out of there. Natasha closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before placing her glass on the table and getting up. She went to walk over to you but you were already leaving, Cat looking shocked as she stared after you.
You left the room as fast as you could without running. Before you knew it you were in your room. You through your shoes across the room and sat leaning against the window frame, looking out at the city. You were looking for someone to talk to you but Cat was the wrong person. Cat wasn’t Natasha.
Natasha followed you. You stopped outside your room. She stood there still for what felt like hours. In truth she stood there for a minute, she exhaled slowly as she thought “I can’t let the Red Room win, even if she doesn’t feel the same she deserves and explanation.” With that she slowly opened your door.
You turned to see who it was, “Hi Nat” you managed to say when you laid eyes on her.
“Hey (y/n)” she almost whispered, feeling unsure of herself. “Are you okay?” she asked, you heard a genuine concern in her voice as she looked at you. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, a weak smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you watched Natasha move to sit next to you. “I was on my way to rescue you from Cat, but as per usual you don’t need me rescuing you” she said as she looked out of the window.
“You seem too over estimate me” you said, glancing at her.
She saw that glace, she had learnt to read you well enough to know that there was something else you wanted to say. But she knew you too well to know you would just say it. And she knew that she had no right to ask.
The two of you sat in silence in your room. The silence faded from painful to the comfortable silence that you knew all too well, but the tension was still there. There were too many words hanging in the air, waiting to be said.
You gathered your courage before turning to her, not quite knowing what you would say. But any thoughts you had were cut short as you felt her soft lips on yours again. You moved gently with her, praying to whatever deity that this wouldn’t end. You felt her hand reach up to your face gingerly. You leaned into her touch before you felt her lips pull away from yours. You were worried that she would leave again but her hand remained on your cheek.
“I’m sorry (y/n)” she whispered lightly.
“For what?” you asked as you looked into her eyes.
“You deserve better, I should have told you that before I ran last time” there was a sadness to her voice as the words fell from her lips.
“Nata-” you started to say before she cut you off.
“If I didn’t exist the US and the UK would never have known about the Red Room, you would never have been made to join MI6” she said, looking away. Not wanting to see the look on your face.
“Natasha” you whispered, reluctantly pulling her gaze back to you. “If I hadn’t joined MI6, I would never have become an avenger, I would never have met you” you said a smile pulling at the corner as she looked at you confused. “I think things have worked out well, all things considered.” You said, trying to read Natasha’s reaction. Deciding to just go of it, you lent in and kissed her lightly. You relaxed when you felt Natasha lean into the kiss her arms snaking around your waist. Gently you wrapped one arm around her waist and the other around her back, pulling her in to a warm embrace.
Eventually your need for air broke the kiss. Both of your arms remained where they were as Natasha rested her head on your chest. Her nerves being soothed by the rising and falling of your breathing. She moved her legs into a more comfortable position as they crossed yours. The two of you sat there together watching the city skyline. Natasha thought about how disappointed the Red Room would be now, she smiled at the thought. She slowly started to fall asleep murmuring the words “I love you (y/n)” before she closed her eyes. The last thing she heard before she fell asleep was “I love you too Natasha”.