Natasha Romanoff x Reader Oneshots/Mini-Series

Packed Lunch

(Uploaded to Tumblr on 15/7/20)

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 904.

Warnings: Nothing. Maybe Sam and Tony getting "bullied" lol.

Request: ​ here you go!

Summary: You're Natasha's favourite.

A/N: I wrote this in like an hour... take that for what you will lol. I think it's p good tho.

***

You and Natasha had been friends for a very long time. Ever since she came to SHIELD. Dirty and disgruntled, with a sullen look in her eyes, -that she could hide from everyone else, but just not you, it seemed- and offered her a sandwich you had just made. That one sweet gesture was all it took for you to worm your way into her ice-cold heart.

It took some time, but you slowly managed to thaw the ice from her heart.

And yet. She never treat you the same way she did everyone else. It was glaringly obvious that she favoured you over everyone else. Sharing a scratchy blanket with you in the quinjet, on the way back from a mission. Always making you a coffee, or whatever you were feeling that day when you woke up; She always knew what you wanted, even before you did. Private movie nights together. Which more often than not, turned into mostly ignoring the movie, and laughing well into the night.

You were her favourite person in the world.

Nothing could compare to you.

And everyone knew that.

"Why doesn't she do this for us?" Came a mumbled voice, the owner watching as the red-head packed you up a bag of lunch, before you left on your solo mission.

"She can hear you, Stark."

Most would be intimidated by the Russians words, but her tone was harmless if only a few truly knew that.

Tony Stark, being one of the few to not find fear in Natasha's words, spoke his voice clearer.

"Why don't you do this for us?"

"Because you're not, Y/N," Natasha swiftly replied.

Sam was the next to voice his opinion, "Not that I wouldn't like a packed lunch every time I go on a mission without you. But, why don't you just ask them out already?"

"Why don't you mind your own business, Wilson?"

The boys 'oohed' then Tony said in a sing-song voice, "Natasha's got a crush!"

In that same tone, she replied, "Why don't you shut the fuck up?"

Sam gasped loudly, hopping up from his seat, and pointing at Natasha excitedly, as he bounced slightly.

"She didn't deny it!"

"She didn't!"

No. Natasha didn't deny it. But she did sigh heavily at the boys.

You can't live with 'em. You can't live without-...

No.

Just can't live with them.

Natasha rolled her eyes and groaned loudly when the men-children started to sing the song every child did on the playground.

"Natasha and Y/N sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G-!"

When you walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, you found Sam and Tony screaming, as they got pelted with your leftover lunch by Natasha.

"Woah, what did they do to deserve this?" you asked with a smile.

Natasha shrugged, stopping her assault on the boys, in favour of smiling at you.

"They were acting themselves."

"Makes sense." You nodded.

"Hey!"

"We resent that!"

"You can resent it all you like, it doesn't mean it's wrong."

A hand on your upper arm pulled you around to face the red-head. Who handed you a brown paper bag, the top folded over so that the contents were hidden and wouldn't spill out as easily.

"You know you don't have to do this, every time I go out on a mission without you?"

"I know," she said softly with a half-smile, "But I want too. I like knowing that you'll have something to eat on the way there."

"You know I make sure that there's food on the quinjet, right?" Tony voiced up. Which Natasha flipped him off for, never once taking her eyes off of yours.

"Thank you, Nat. Umm-" you began, pointing down at the bag in hand before you got interrupted.

"No," she almost sighed, "I didn't make any of the food. I just put it in the bag."

Even though you already knew the answer, after all, you asked her every time. Getting the same reply in return. You still asked the sweet woman before you, if she had any participation in making the meal.

"Oh thank, God," you whispered, gaining a slap to your arm.

"Thank you," you added, squeezing her arm gently, your eyes sincere with your words, "But I've got to get going now. Can't be late for saving the world."

Quickly Natasha picked up the water bottle on the counter behind her and handed it to you.

"Thank you," you repeated.

"Now I know there's water on the jet- Ow! Natasha! Sam, save me!" Tony yelled when a banana collided against his face.

"You're on your own, Tin Man!"

"You're both in for it," she seethed.

You laughed, wrapping Natasha up in a quick hug before she started playfully attacking the men. Calling out as you walked from the room, "Bye, guys!"

Getting a "Bye, Y/N!" From the three, before Sam and Tony's screams filled the air. Only making you laugh more.

Once seated in the pilot seat, with the jet gliding through the air, not even thirty minutes later, you began unwrapping the lunch Natasha packed for you. Stopping when you saw the scratchy writing on the paper, written on by a Sharpie.

'Take me out...'

You smiled to yourself.

She finally asked you.

Or told you to ask her, rather.

Snapping a quick picture, you sent it to Natasha. With a message that read:

'When and where?'