#⍣ ;; you’re all seeing red when i come through ★ queue

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

i've built my dreams around you

Summary: You find out Natasha's never been to a Christmas market. Considering you work at one, you do what any good partner would do: make her go around with you.

Word Count: 1618

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Request: Can you write natasha and reader celebrating christmas and reader takes natasha to her first christmas market?

Warnings: None that I can think of!

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone :) Comment and reblogs are always appreciated.

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“You’ve never been to a Christmas market?”

“I’ve crashed a car through one before-”

“Natasha!”

“What? That doesn’t count?”

“You know full well that doesn’t count. You’re supposed to embrace the spirit of Christmas, not destroy it!”

After a slew of horrified looks targeted at her, Natasha finally decided to spare your neck ache by spinning you around to face her for the continuing conversation.

“I have a break at 2 pm tomorrow,” you told her, “come visit and I’ll take you around?”

A smile spread on your girlfriend’s face, filling you with warmth as she wrapped her arms around you and pulled herself closer, nodding against your lips. “Sounds perfect,” she whispered, punctuating it with a brief kiss. “I can't wait.”

Neither could you – a Christmas with your girlfriend would be a dream come true, and as you watched her leave, your mind ceaselessly imagined romantic cliches of the two of you together and all the stalls that she might love. So hopelessly enamoured by her, you hadn’t even noticed your mistake, watching her figure until it disappeared through the doorway. But when you turned back to your baking, the absent slice of your freshly made brownies spoke for itself.

“Natasha!” you yelled.

The Avenger returned dutifully, poking her head around the doorframe with both a knowing smugness on her face and the necessary evidence held between her teeth.

“You couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“They’re delicious love, I see why you always sell out.”

Seeing through her deflection, you continued undeterred, “That was deception.”

“Well, I’m a spy.” With that, Natasha disappeared once more. You shook your head as echoes of her footsteps running upstairs met your ears, then turned back to the counter – you’d need to cook far more now that you’d invited a brownie thief to your stall.

»»————-　★　————-««

For every second ticking towards your promised 2 pm, another coat-clad customer extended the queue; the ever-growing line comprised of people vying for both your attention and whichever brownie they had set their sights on. As much as the business’s success was nothing to complain about, all you wished to see was a glint of your girlfriend’s red hair or the saving grace of your friend coming to cover your shift.

13:56. They would be there soon.

In the meantime, you near-mindlessly served customers, fulfilling order after order while daydreaming of all the stalls you planned to take your girlfriend to see. Until-

“I think I’ll try the Oreo blondie”

- her voice broke through the chatter of the market, snapping you instantly out of your head. This wasn’t just another customer in front of you, but Natasha, wearing the Christmas jumper you’d gifted her years before, jeans, a green jacket, and a beanie still half-folded over her distinctive hair.

You scoffed – though without hiding the smile that came with it – and shook your head. “I don’t serve brownie thieves,” you told her seriously.

“What am I dating a baker for if not for the free food?” she hit back.

“I don’t know. My good looks? My charming personality?”

“Your humour is definitely up there.”

“Hey!” you said in an image of false offence, before waving her along with the tilt of your head. “Now you’re really not getting a brownie today. Get in here and stop holding up the queue, there’s still-” a check of your watch- “two minutes more ‘til the backup arrives.”

Natasha grinned and wasted no time jogging to the side of the stall, entering and wrapping her arms around you from behind. “I’m still working, love,” you half-heartedly reminded her, then turned to a customer, “What flavours would you like?”

“Just missed you is all,” Natasha muttered in your ear, “and I am excited for today.”

You glanced back every so often, but still focused on reducing the queue as best you could. “I’m glad you are, Natty, but maybe you need to go find your teammate so we can enjoy it at all.”

“No need,” another familiar voice said from the side of the stall, “Natasha’s teammate is here. Is that how you refer to me? I introduced you two.”

“It’s usually ‘friend’, Wanda. ‘Natasha’s teammate’ when you’re late.”

“By one minute!”

“Shameful. Does Natasha not teach you any punctuality in training?”

“I do.”; “She’s too busy knocking me to the floor.”

“Oh, that’s true too,” Natasha nodded, pulling herself away from you to greet her teammate properly.

“Now the two of you get out of here and enjoy the market before I hit you with a brownie,” Wanda scolded lightly, twirling her fingers to subtly lift an off-display tray of brownies in warning.

You didn’t need to be told twice, and Natasha was already out of there. “I really do owe you one, thanks for this Wands.”

“If you get Natasha to go easy on me in training, I’ll call us even.”

“Nobody can get her to do that-”

“Are you coming?” Natasha interrupted from outside the stall.

“-So I guess I’ll still owe you one.”

You caught Wanda’s smile and the beginning of an eye roll even as you turned to run away, and you thanked everything that you’d ended up with a friend like her. Natasha was in similarly high spirits when you met her outside, with a loving gaze that lingered on you while you took her hand and began to show her around. You told her to stop eventually since even you could see that she forsook the beautiful Christmas scenery surrounding her in favour of you.

“I can’t help it,” she told you, “Christmas is about the things you love, isn’t it?”

“You’re sweet.”

“It’s something in the air.”

“That’s just the churros.”

“Haha, very funny,” she deadpanned.

“They do make the air sweet, same as my stall, or the waffles! Come on, let me get you something, it’s part of the full experience,” you promised, fulfilling all the plans you’d made in your daydreams. Natasha nodded her agreement, but her eager smile quickly morphed to shock when you took her wrist and ran off, weaving through the crowds and taking her with you until you reached the desired stand.

You pulled her closer once you arrived as a means of apology, then struck up a conversation asking how her day had been until then. Her hand began to hover over her coat pocket as she spoke, alerting you to her wallet’s whereabouts – it had become almost tradition for the two of you to fight over payments, each trying to treat the other, but after promising to be her guide, you refused to lose the battle this time. So you laced your fingers with hers and held her arm stiffly to the side, pulling your own card out the moment the order was made. 

Natasha didn’t take it without resistance, struggling to free herself from your hold and even stating her intention to pay, but to no avail. You released her only once the payment had gone through, allowing her to take the churros from the seller.

“Thank you,” she muttered lowly, offering you a churro as she began to nibble on one of her own. The two of you strolled purposelessly through the crowds, side by side, and worked through the churros until Natasha held just an empty packet. After freeing her hand of the packet, Natasha’s first move was to take your hand in hers again – a move that caused you to recoil at the frigidity of her skin against yours. 

“You’re freezing.” You jumped into action – taking the gloves from your pocket to pull them over Natasha’s hands, then touching her cheeks and forehead to see they were cold too. With nothing else to wrap her in, you wordlessly led your girlfriend to the nearest stall and ordered a hot chocolate for both of you to warm up with. 

“There’s one more thing I want to do.”

“Is it the Ferris wheel?”

“Of course it’s the Ferris wheel.”

“Good,” Natasha said quietly, “we had the same idea then.”

You didn’t take her hand as you led her through the crowds this time – mainly because they were securely wrapped around her cup – but the two of you manoeuvred onwards to the rotating contraption. The sun had begun to set, and the queue had subsided enough that you were quickly led onto the ride and secured, marking the perfect end to the day. 

With a whir of machinery, the two of you began to rise, watching the shops and crowds you'd spent hours pushing through shrink into a model village.

“I had fun,” Natasha said suddenly.

“Did you like the stalls?”

“The stalls, the food, the lights… I see why you love it.”

“Yeah, so crash your car elsewhere next time.” 

She scoffed, but carried on, gazing down at the labyrinth of brightly lit cabins. “It's Christmas-y, but not enough for the full Christmas spirit.”

“What else-”

“It's the company that makes that,” she clarified, finally looking up at you and squeezing your free hand. “And I'm lucky enough to have the perfect companion.”

You'd reached the top by then, silence engulfed the two of you as the chatter of the crowd stilled with distance – up there, it was just you and her.

“You'll have me forever,” you promised. Your eyes drifted to where your hands met, surveying the left hand which – in just a couple more weeks – would no longer be without a ring. The token itself was entrusted to Yelena’s care until Christmas, until your plan could come to fruition.

“A lifetime of you and your baking,” Natasha mused, still unaware of how soon that dream may be, “sounds perfect.”

You smiled, shuffling close. “Merry Christmas, Natasha.”

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

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