At Worlds End (The Avengers) | Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Part Nine: Shawarma Place and Showers

Warnings: Grief, tears, insinuated sex

Summary: The aftermath of the battle, and after a tearful shower, you get a get at your front door.

---

 It was hard to keep your eyes open.

It was hard to keep chewing.

You were going to fall asleep in your seat at any moment. Exhausting finally hitting you. Those three coffees from earlier doing nothing to help you now.

It was slight. Just a soft nudge, really.

Pulling your eyes open, you found the beautiful red-head already watching you after pushing your outstretched leg under the table with her booted foot, where you sat across from her, between Thor and Tony.

She threw you a soft smile, eyes content with the outcome of everything.

Sleepily, you gave her one back, finally swallowing the bite that you had been slowly chewing on for the past five minutes.

You grunted as you got up, thick words on your lips, "I gotta go home."

"Are you sure?" Tony asked, peering up at you, "Don't you wanna finish your food?"

Shaking your head, you replied, "Nah, I gotta get home while I can still move. I need a shower and to sleep for at least fifteen hours."

"I'll call you in the morning."

Patting the billionaire's shoulder as you passed, you wished the rest of the team, a goodbye, called a thank you to the workers and then exited the building. Hoping that your apartment complex hadn't been touched by the invasion. Far too tired to deal with all that bullshit, too.

---

It appears that luck was on your side. Because as soon as you stepped foot in front of your building, you found that it was perfectly intact. Not a scratch in sight.

Stumbling through the door, you began pealing off the uniform that appeared to be glued to your body. Considering you had been wearing it since the stint in Germany, you couldn't really see why it wouldn't be.

Sweat, blood, and grime kept it against your skin. That feeling of standing up after sitting on hot leather surrounding you with every limb you pulled from its kevlar casing.

Boots strewn across the floor. Underwear and socks followed soon after as you staggered into your bathroom, heading straight for the shower, bumping into walls and objects as you did.

You didn't even care that the water was beyond cold as it pelted against your back, steam slowly rising as it warmed up.

Hands pressed against the tilled wall, eyes glued upon the drain underfoot, watching as blood, dust, and dirt flowed down, seemingly almost neverending.

All at once, everything hit you.

Tony's possible death.

The battle.

Coulson.

Your head lowered further, tears slipping from your eyes.

You may have won the war. But that doesn't mean there weren't losses along the way.

---

A yawn racked from you as you dried your hair with a fluffy towel, only dressed in fresh underwear when a knock rapped against your door.

"What are you doing here?" you answered the door with the towel not laying around your neck.

Still wearing her suit, but face cleaner now, stood Natasha, blinking up at you from under her lashes.