Work Text:
2005
They’d been in the middle of a sparring session when a taste entered her mouth of its own accord and the worst part was, it was very distracting; and Natasha Romanov was never distracted, because distraction meant death. She paused in the middle of knocking Clint to the ground to lick her lips in order to identify the surprising taste— it was the overwhelming flavor of coffee with caramel syrup and fresh, too. Suddenly, she was on the ground with Clint crouched on top of her, smirking. “I told you not to let me win.”
She glared at him and pushed him off, sending him sprawling on the floor. Standing up, she dusted herself off and said, “you’re lucky I didn’t, then.”
Clint was about to speak when he caught her running her tongue over her lips again. “What’re you doing?” he asked.
The redhead frowned slightly. “I taste coffee,” she explained. “Coffee with caramel, and I haven’t had anything to eat.”
He gave her an amused look. “Now you’re starting to sound like me.” (As he was well known for his coffee addiction.)
Rolling her eyes, she huffed, “get up, let’s keep going.”
--
Over the next few days, Natasha’s mouth was filled with the taste of coffee at the strangest times and while she didn’t hate it (although it was too sweet for her tastes), it was quite confusing. By the end of nearly two weeks, she was so fed up with not knowing that she went to Clint and shared what had been going on.
Surprisingly serious, he listened thoughtfully before offering, “maybe it’s your soulmate?”
“Soulmate?” she echoed.
“Yeah. You know how the links happen in different ways. Maybe yours is taste.”
--
2014
The bell chimed as Natasha and Steve walked into a new coffee shop they hadn’t tried yet. It was a smaller one with a cozy mom-and-pop feel to it, which was rather rare on the busy streets of New York. It was off the beaten path, farther away from the Avengers Tower, and only had a few customers sitting at the little round tables scattered throughout the shop.
The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookcases which were stuffed to bursting with all kinds of novels, with gaps for similarly styled windows that allowed light into the otherwise dim space. Outside one of the windows a tiny courtyard could be seen with exactly three tables and a fountain in the center, with high walls surrounding the area. They made their way to the back of the cafe where they were to order. There was a glass case to the right filled with pastries and the different coffee accessories were displayed behind the counter.
“Hello and welcome to Joe’s Joe,” the woman behind the counter greeted them with a smile. She had (h/l) (h/c) with (e/c) eyes and was wearing an apron with the store’s name on the front.
Steve, who was wearing his very inconspicuous disguise of sunglasses and a baseball cap smiled and responded, “we’ll have a medium black iced coffee and an Americano.”
“No problem, coming right up!”
Natasha watched as the woman moved confidently around the space, knowing exactly where everything was. “Have you worked here long?”
As the coffee was brewing, the woman turned back to face them. “Pretty long, yes. Let’s see,” she mused, thinking, “probably since 2005. That’s about when I started to really enjoy coffee, since Joe lets us have a free coffee every break.” Then she grinned. “And sometimes when he doesn’t know, too.”
Natasha smirked at the fact that the girl snuck coffee without the owner knowing. “What’s your name?” she asked.
“Oh, it’s (f/n) (l/n),” (f/n) said. The timer for the coffee beeped before they could say anything else, and she was busy for a moment as she got it ready for them. Sliding the two coffees towards them, she announced, “that’ll be on the house.”
Natasha looked at her, surprised. “Thanks. May I ask why?”
(F/n) grinned— she seemed to do that a lot— and answered, “it’s not everyday a beautiful woman orders coffee from you.”
“It’s not everyday I get to order from one,” came her response, causing the woman behind the counter to blush.
Taking the top off of her iced coffee, Natasha pulled the travel bottle of vodka out of her bag and opened it. The (h/c) girl looked at her curiously. “What are you doing? I’m sorry,” she added hastily. “I don’t mean to pry, but I am always interested in how people like their coffee.”
“Of course,” Natasha allowed, smiling slightly. “I add vodka to my coffee. I always find I need a little extra kick in the morning.”
(F/n) made a face. “Really? My soulmate seems to love that same combination and it’s disgusting. I don’t know how they stand it. I prefer my coffee sweeter. Who wants bitter right after they wake up?”
Natasha gave her an amused look as she stirred her coffee, bringing it up to her lips as she took a sip. Almost immediately, (f/n)’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “They’re doing it again,” she complained. “Excuse me for a moment.”
As she busied herself with making a coffee of her own to presumably get the taste out of her mouth, Natasha thought it was an amusing coincidence that someone was trying the same combination she was at the exact same time. Feeling Steve’s eyes on her, she turned to him. “What?”
His eyes were hidden behind his glasses so she couldn’t see his expression very well, but Natasha was pretty sure he was giving her his famous “Captain America Is Disappointed In You” look. He didn’t say anything, just shook his head. She was about to press him when she rolled her eyes— her soulmate was drinking sweet coffee again. Taking another sip of her own coffee, (f/n) turned back towards them with her own drink in her mouth. After she was finished, she set the mug down. “Sorry, I’m not supposed to drink while I have customers, but I really can’t stand vodka.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow. “What if your soulmate can’t stand sweet coffee?”
(F/n) looked surprised. “How did you know mine was sweet?”
“That’s what my soulmate counters the vodka with,” Natasha explained. “They’re doing it right now.”
That’s when it seemed to hit both of them at the same time, and (f/n)’s eyes widened in shock. “Hold on!”
(F/n) turned around and went to the different syrups available, blocking them from Natasha’s view. After a moment, an overwhelming taste of pure peppermint filled her mouth, and she stated the flavor aloud, knowing what the girl was doing. (F/n) moved down the line a bit and the next flavor covered the peppermint. “Chocolate,” she declared, staring at her soulmate.
The (e/c) eyed girl turned around, eyes wide. “Do you know what this means?”
Natasha answered for her: “you’re my soulmate!”