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#natasha romanoff hurt / comfort
romanoffsbish · 2 months
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Please, Forgive Me
Natasha Romanoff x F!R
You broke up with Natasha—what have you done? | WC: 1,882
Warnings: Brief Angst | Toxic “Friend” / Natasha (if you squint) | Nonsexual Nudity (18+) | H/C Ending
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“You look really pretty," Valerie, your best friend said with a smile that made your stomach flip into turmoil.
——
The smile on her face dropped, the sound of your chair scraping against the linoleum the clearest rejection. It made you sick and regretful for the last twelve hours.
It was an adrenaline rush spurred on by another fight with your beloved girlfriend, Natasha... Your beautiful, sweet Natasha with enamoring eyes and a sultry smirk.
You lurched up the dinner you just shared with that traitor Valerie, who smiled at you so tenderly, it was alarming. With her repulsive blue eyes, riddled with darker hued lines to which you confused with safety.
They were dangerous; a dark storm you got caught up in, not much unlike the one you were running through.
You missed the soft pair of green that belonged to the woman who owned the key to your heart and knew the way to unlocking your soul with purposeful fingers.
Looking into her eyes was a luxury only you and Yelena were granted; the halves of Natasha's heart, oh my...
You'd broken that heart only thirteen hours ago, now you were running through the rain to make amends. It was well past midnight but you had to get across town to the compound Natasha was unfortunately staying at.
If only you would have cast that she-devil aside at the first warning Natasha threw your way you'd be safe in her arms right now, likely looking into her eyes that reflected the same heat the fire beside you would've.
Natasha's eyes were your favorite feature, truly. The way they changed your view of her in various places always filled you with wonder on how she saw yours in the first place, she was just too good for this world.
At the compound they were almost always glazed over with a clear authority no one could question. From a side glance you'd see the Black Widow, but whenever she looked your way, which was often when you'd visit, there was a sparkle of humanity reserved for you alone.
Inside the four walls of your apartment her eyes always shined like brilliant emeralds, and her teasing smirk oftentimes softened into a goofy smile; a pure love that unfolded within her irises, right before your very own.
When you were outside she'd usually wear sunglasses, but on the off chance she'd forgotten them you could see the way the sun drew out light splotches of brown. Which fondly reminded you of the days you two spent wandering the countryside, getting lost in forests with shades of green that reflected the same field you got lost in every time you looked into your lovers orbs.
They were complex—guarded, but you had worn down her walls enough to get a peak into her greatest joys and most heartbreaking sadness. You blinked hard, a hand on the freezing call box outside of the compound going unfelt as you tried to forget the pools of sadness.
Those were the last things you saw when you broke up.
The thought alone nearly halts you, the minuscule contents left within your stomach churning tauntingly as if to remind you that this was all your fault. Valerie told you Natasha was being toxic, and in some twisted sense you actually believed the hypocrites words.
You told Natasha she was toxic, and you knew how much that likely shattered her remaining self image.
What kind of person does that to the love of their life?
All of you wanted to push the code and call out to her, but you realized now how selfish it was to expect her to console you. This heartbreak was all your own doing because you truly thought Valerie was your friend, that she was right thinking Nat was being controlling, but she was a two face liar and you were an absolute fool.
Natasha deserved better, your hand fell from the box and you were prepared to walk away, but a soft voice full of exhaustion called through the speaker, "Y/N?"
All you could do was to pitifully whimper her name.
You cast a look down at your watch, a photo of the two of you smiling popped up under a bright red 1:32AM that flashed beneath a raindrop, which magnified the early morning hour that filled you with shame.
There was no time to apologize for the impromptu arrival as you heard the loud buzz that let you in. You resumed your sprint and through your tears made it to the place Natasha stood ready to catch you in her arms. The impact had to have hurt her just as it did you but she stood strong, like an unmovable fortress. A warm breath fanned over your chilled cheek and fresh hot guilt trailed down your cheeks when you felt her relax.
Natasha wasn't angry, no, she was relieved. This was meant to inspire joy in you but it hurt you more. Of course the woman would forgive you just like that.
"I'm so sorry Nat," you wailed, breaking the silence, "Fu-fuck, I can't believe I-I," you couldn't stop the harsh hiccups that stopped your heartfelt apology.
This absolutely made Natasha panic, you had stopped breathing for more than three seconds, she was about to rush you to the medical wing if not for your sharp inhale. "Keep breathing detka, just breathe, please."
You looked up into her eyes and for the first time ever you saw fear, in the bravest set of eyes you'd ever seen.
"I," you tried again but she pecked your lips shut. "I don't need you to apologize detka, you coming back to me is apology enough. I'm not mad, just worried, so please don't fuss and just let me take you inside..."
Natasha was a warrior but right now she was breaking, her eyes were pleading with you to finally stand down. To wave your white flag and let her fix everything.
"Okay," you whispered, and were rewarded with a warm kiss to your cheek that sent a shiver down your spine, which didn't go unnoticed by the worried spy.
Without question the redhead took you straight to her room and ran you a bath that likely rivaled the devil's. The redhead preferred room temp but never backed down from the challenge when it meant she could hold you close. Tonight was different though, even if she didn't need your apology she did need your consent.
In your relationship, that was technically called off, it was always welcome unless announced otherwise.
Natasha made no assumptions, and simply escorted you into the room when she deemed you'd adjusted to the rooms temperature enough before you were set to enter another that would have been polar opposite.
But you stopped her dead in her respectful tracks.
"Stay." She couldn't say no even if she wanted to, the way you looked over at her, like a frightened mouse, it made her forget all of the pain from the prior day.
There was nothing but tenderness in her touch when she tilted you up and slid in behind you. Her arms didn't even have a chance to settle around you as you instantly rolled over. Natasha had huffed in genuine surprise when you straddled her, your arms dangling over her shoulders as your face pressed into her neck. Her muscular arms locked over one another around your lower back and she hummed a soothing tune.
A gentle smile adorned Natasha's face when she heard the first snore then felt it rumble against her skin. She was ticklish and suddenly desperate to clean the both of you up and get you tucked into her Avengers bed.
The first time she heard you call the mattress that with such disgust she became defensive. But, before she could match your energy you elaborated and it was so sweet, how you regarded your apartment bed as hers, that she learned to listen first and question later.
Natasha knew yesterday afternoon that you'd come back, once you've had time to think of course. Not because she was manipulative or cocky either, but because she believed in not only your love, but her gut. She knew that as soon as you saw Valerie's intentions you'd come here to apologize for thoughts given to you.
The glint in your eyes when you're being truthful was missing when you broke things off, and so she knew this was just a standard moment of lived experience.
Natasha knew you wholly, which is why she knew better than to expect you to stay asleep when she left the room. She returned to find you sat up, the sleeves of her hoodie were balled up in your fists that rubbed your eyes in an attempt to make your vision less bleary.
"Detka," she hummed, it was angelic like, "I made you some tea because I wanna get ahead of your cold."
You pouted and shook your head. "Natasha..."
A tense sigh left her and your back straightened.
"I am not mad Y/N," her tone was level and void of unsureness, "you can't sway me because I love you, and I know you were being poisoned by your dear friend."
"Enemy," you corrected venomously and she chuckled heartily, as if your distaste healed her fresh wounds.
"The point is I love you and knew you loved me too."
"I do," you pleaded with pooling tears in your eyes. "You are my one and only Natasha, I'm so sorry."
"Don't cry pretty girl," she wiped away tears that slid halfway down your cheeks. "Don't be sorry either, I think we're stronger than this moment detka."
"But I hurt you, you should hate me." Natasha gritted her teeth and nearly spilled the tea as she set it down with a purposeful slam. "Don't ever say that again."
You blinked in shock as she gripped your chin and forced you to stop staring at the wall behind her, and into her eyes instead. Another sob shakily left your lips as you wordlessly understood the truth in them, she wasn't capable of doing anything else but loving you.
Instead of trying to make your point that she deserved better, which you knew would be futile, you leaned in and kissed her with a gentle passion. "I'm sorry..."
"I forgive you," Natasha relented, giving you a sense of closure even if she didn't mean the words. Her entire life up until you required a ruthless demeanor, but she has taken so well to the softer side of life with you. It was impossible for her to feel the anger she should towards you when you'd done nothing maliciously.
You called her toxic, it hurt; you didn't mean it though.
Intent is everything to the woman, and she knew yours was, ironically, under the influence of another's words.
Plus, Natasha knew on some level that she was toxic—it was something Valerie would come to find out once the redhead finally tapped into the fresh heartbreak...
For now though, she'd hold you close and listen to the way you breathed, a warmth, layered with a sense of calmness crept into her chest and soothed her woes with every subtle reminder that you were still hers.
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natsarrownecklacx · 5 months
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Come Home To Me
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count- 1,006
Summary- Natasha comes home, days late, from a mission. You let her know how much it affected you.
Warnings- Mentions of death, grief, mentions of panic attacks, happy ending
2K Follower Celebration
ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3
“You’re late.” You say, watching as your wife walks through the front door of your shared house.
She drops her duffel bag on the floor, hearing your rough, scratchy voice. She doesn’t have to look at you to know you’ve been crying, but she does anyway, unable to keep her eyes away.
“Very late.” You add as she closer the door behind her, wasting no time in moving towards you to take you into her arms.
You step back, effectively halting her in her steps as you raise a single hand to signal her to stay where she is.
“Y/n?.” She asks and you can hear from her voice how tired she is. But right now you don’t care. You don’t care how tired she is. You don’t care that she looks hurt because you took a step away from her.
You can’t find it in you to care that you know all she wants right now it to relax in your arms.
“You’re late.” You say again, keeping your eyes locked on hers, your red rimed ones causing her heart to hurt.
Natasha can’t help but notice the slight shake in your hand, the one preventing her from closing the distance between you. The sight of it wakes her up a bit.
Shit. Natasha sighs. She’s late.
“You didn’t call.” You say, your hand being to shake even more. “You didn’t call and you didn’t text.”
“I know.” Natasha says, regret and shame filling her entire body. She should have been more thoughtful. She should have thought about how it looked.
“You didn’t send a message through any channel.” You say, your breathing starting to pick up. “You didn’t contact Fury. You didn’t go through our old network. None of your super hero friends knew anything. Clint didn’t even know where you were Natasha.” Your words come out fast, frantic, your voice cracking in between each word.
“I know.” Natasha says again, taking a step toward you.
“No. You don’t know.” You yell at her, the stress from the last few days catching up with you.
“I do. I’m sorry y/n-“
“NO!” You yell, cutting her off, fresh tears streams down your face. “You don’t know Natalia. You have no clue what I’ve been through the last few days because you weren’t here!”
Natasha stands silently, trying to keep her building frustrations inside. She’d just gotten home from a mission that ran three days longer than planned.
She understood your worries, of course she did, but if you’d just let her explain. If you’d just stop and-
“I thought you were dead.” You say, so quietly, as though it’s the first time you’re actually letting yourself take in the fact that you’d thought you’d lost her. You thought your wife, your best friend, the love of your life, was dead.
Natasha deflates. How could she have allowed herself to get so distracted. She was busy, sure, but she could have sent you a message somehow. Could have taken the ten seconds it would have taken to send a text to you or Fury or Clint.
She should have known better.
She sees in the second your knees buckle, the stress and grief of the last few days weighing you down all at once. The lack of sleep, the total lack of food and water. Everything hits you. It’s like you just switch off.
She rushes towards you, taking you in her arms and making sure you don’t hit the floor. You fight against her hold for a moment, trying to push her off of you and saying how badly she scared you. How besides yourself you were.
Natasha just continues to hold you and rock you in her arms, all the while whispering to you how sorry she is, how much she loves you and how she would never scare you like that again.
“I thought I’d lost you.” You say once you’ve calmed down a bit, your breath stuttering as you shove your face into the cook of her neck and wrap your arms around her tightly.
“I’m so sorry, darling.” She says, holding you just as tightly to her. She can’t imagine how scared you must have been, how heartbroken. “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
You pull away from her neck, taking her face in your hands and holding her as if you’re afraid she’ll disappear. Natasha feels she shake of your hands against her and puts her hands over yours, holding them against her.
“Don’t ever leave me.” You plead, your teary eyes staring into hers. “Never.” Natasha answers, staring into your eyes so you know she’s being genuinely.
“I love you far, far too much to ever leave you, my love.” She says, inching towards your lips, grazing them against her own. You release a shaky breath, allowing yourself to bask in the realisation that she came home to you.
“I love you too, Nat.” You whisper against her lips, moving forward to press against hers.
“Forever.” Natasha replies. “Always.” You whisper back.
Tomorrow the two of you would have a serious talk about what happened. Where she was, what you went through. How she would have to be more mindful when on a mission.
But that was an issue for tomorrow, right now the two of you just need to get into comfort clothes, get into bed and hold each other.
You fall asleep, getting some much needed rest, with her arms around you, the smell of her shampoo and natural sent filling your senses. It’s the first time in days you’ve been able to fully relax.
Natasha, even in her exhausted state, stays awake to watch over you. Makes herself take in the bags under your eyes, the tear stains on your cheeks, the thinner look to you.
It hurts her heart to see you this way, but she knows she caused this. Knows she has to be more careful, more considerate. She makes a promise to you and to herself then and there that she would never put you through this again.
And she never did.
ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3
A/n- had this idea for a while, decided to finally write it, hope ye like it :)
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scarletssienna · 2 months
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Beggin' for Footnotes
Summary - Some things aren’t meant to last forever. And despite you and Wanda loving each other you’re not sure if it’s going to work out anymore. 4.0k word count
Warnings - Hurt (not much comfort), heavy angst, swearing, mommy Wanda, oral, fingering, face slapping, sub!reader, degradation, praise, begging, dom/sub dynamics, aftercare, hair pulling, mean Wanda, edging, face-sitting, thigh riding
AN - This is my first post on here! I’ve done writings in the past but I thought I’d try a new format and space to post it! :)) I plan on continuing this if I can find the energy lol!
Part 2
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18+, minors + men dni
Not every love was supposed to last. No matter how great, how wonderful, sometimes things still end. You knew Wanda like the back of your hand. And she knows you all the same. So when one of her vices came up after one of your worst fights, you could only watch. Wanda stood out on the back porch. Cigarette between her two fingers as she stared off into the darkness. There was this empty sickening in both of your stomachs that this may be the end. At this point, all options and solutions had been exhausted. You knew it was time. You watched out the kitchen window, unable to tear your eyes away as she slowly inhaled before a large cloud of smoke dissipated into the air, the cold temperatures enhancing it. Your fingers squeezed the sponge from the sink as soapy water flooded between your fingers. The dishes had been long forgotten lately as neither of you had had the energy to wash them. This was unusual for Wanda as she liked to keep the house showroom ready at all times. You forcefully ripped your eyes away from her as you began to wash the dishes, trying to make up for anything you could. To fix what you could in this messy situation. 
The house that had once been so loud with laughter and joy now lingered in empty silence. Your playlist of every song you two had loved played softly over the speakers around the house. If it had been several months ago you would have pulled her closely in your arms, dancing around the kitchen despite her laughs and teases about how cheesy it was. Her nose would crinkle as you sang along in Sokovian to one of her favorite songs. You butchered the pronunciation, but you would try, she could tell. She would have given in eventually and threaded her hands in your hair as she rested her forehead against yours. You would have kissed her, kissed her as if she was going to leave the second you let go. In this reality, she very well might.
You watched out the window again for a moment before getting distracted by the dish you were washing. The knife in your hands harshly tore against your flesh and you quickly dropped the knife into the sink, a soft yelp leaving your lips. You backed away quickly as blood began to drip down your hand. It was a quick scramble for the kitchen towel as you tried to stop the bleeding. Wanda had always been there to comfort you when you were injured in the past. You bit the inside of your cheek trying to stop it as tears quickly began to fall on your face. You let off a soft sob as you abandoned the dishes, heading upstairs to your shared bedroom. Hurrying into the bathroom you discarded the bloodied towel onto the sink countertops and washed the wound before messily bandaging it up. You had never been very good at doing it yourself so Wanda had always insisted on caring for you but you didn't think that was very well an option at this point. 
Tears flooded down your face as the events from the night tore your heart into shreds. You were no longer crying due to the injury. It was a different kind of pain. You stumbled over to the bed and threw your pants onto the floor before climbing into your side of the bed. The sheets were quickly pulled up to your chin as your hand covered your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sobs. Quickly, you drifted off into a tired and pained sleep. 
When Wanda returned inside she hadn't expected to see dishes washed especially as she investigated further and saw the drops of blood on the floor and a bloody knife in the sink. Despite the fight, she still cared and loved you. She quickly rushed upstairs in an attempt to find you. When she noticed the door slightly ajar and silence in the room she quietly peaked her head in. She sighed relieved when she saw you asleep in bed, seemingly uninjured from her view. The smell of cigarettes covered her and she wandered quietly off to the bathroom to take a shower, shutting the bathroom door behind her. For everyone but you her walls were high. She hardly let anyone in. and when she did, it felt as if it always ended this way. The feeling of being cursed towards relationships had set in. She washed her hair, going over the fight in her head as she wondered what could have gone differently, how she could save it. If it was even worth it at this point. 
Tensions had been rising over the past couple of weeks. You both had been working too much recently and had hardly had time for one another. It seemed as if every day was the same. Wake up, go to work, sleep, repeat. It had been killing you both. The littlest things set you both off. It would end up in screaming matches and sleeping alone every time. What set you both over the edge this time was not so little. Natasha, your mutual friend, had begun flirting with you. While she respected your relationship, she had always believed you two were not good for each other. So when you fought last week and you ended up at her house she had done nothing but comfort you. You thought nothing of Natashas' intentions but Wanda knew otherwise. This had sent her into a fit of rage when Natasha dropped you off this morning and kissed your cheek goodbye. 
You both fought for hours, arguing about anything that came to mind, but mainly Natasha. Had you understood and been able to read her mind as well, you would have understood her intentions and sided with Wanda, not seeing Natasha anymore. But you couldn't and this frustrated Wanda. When she attempted to control your mind you quickly noticed and this sent you two further down the line of fighting. You hated it when she used her powers on you. When you thought to yourself that you wished you could just forget everything that had happened Wanda broke. She had misunderstood. Thinking you had meant forgetting her. Silence fell over the fight and she went outside to have a cigarette. Her thoughts consumed her as her heart hurt. 
With how often the fights had been recently as well as how busy you've been, you'd not been intimate in weeks. The tension begins to tear you both apart. When she finished her shower she pulled on an old t-shirt and shorts before popping her head out the bathroom door to check if you were still sleeping. When she saw you, she had to determine what to do. Did she sleep with you? Or did she go to the guest room? She decided that you wouldn't want her in bed and quietly tip-toed to the guest room based on what she had misunderstood. That night she cried herself to sleep as well. 
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
When you woke up the next morning you sat up groggily and sighed to yourself as you didn't see Wanda in bed, the memories of the night prior sinking in. Despite your anger you went to see where she had slept for the night, mostly just wanting to make sure she hadn't ended up locked out on the porch freezing to death. You saw her asleep in the guest room, her makeup smudged and muddled from tears, and her shower. You sighed and went back to your room to get ready for the day. It was unusual for you to be up first and you made use of it, quietly leaving for work before she awoke. 
You returned home late that night, having gone to the bar after work with a few co-workers to unwind and relax. All you could think about was Wanda and the ache between your legs grew. You were mad, but maybe you needed that. You quietly entered the house, making a note to lock the door behind you before heading to find Wanda. You weren't extremely intoxicated, but the anger, lack of quality sleep, stress, and tequila were having a bit of an impact. You could tell she had been home for a couple of hours, the discarded takeout garbage by the trash. Suddenly she caught your eye outside on the back porch. Of course, she was smoking again. You thought to yourself before acting on impulse. You went to the door and harshly pulled the sliding door open. She let out a startled gasp that didn't happen often as she always seemed aware of your presence. 
“Get inside.” You said firmly in a tone that had been unusual for you to take on with her. You had always been the more submissive in the relationship. The words shocked you both a little. She obliged anyway, out of more surprise than anything. She put the cigarette out before coming inside. You shut the door behind her, looking into her eyes before quickly pressing her against the door in a bruising kiss. She yelped out of surprise before kissing back, her hands tangling into your hair. She ignored the taste of tequila on your lips as she knew she tasted like cigarettes and couldn't defend herself for that. 
You made quick work of snaking your hand underneath her shirt, groping her chest as your tongues began to fight. She had never seen this level of dominance out of you. While it surprised and intrigued her, she couldn't have it. You both knew you were just trying to get a reaction out of her as it had been entirely too long since you two had done anything together. Her hand tightened with a grip of your hair as she roughly pulled your head back, quickly beginning to kiss and nip at your neck. You let out a moan as she tugged at your hair, stumbling backward slightly as she pushed you off of her. 
“Upstairs. “ She muttered firmly. You could see the darkness in her eyes and did not question it, quickly moving upstairs to your room. The past few weeks your dynamic had been shallow and lacking. You both needed rules in life. You need a guideline to follow, and she needs an outlet of control. When you got upstairs you looked around the room, taking several deep breaths before going to crack a window to get some airflow. Your jaw clenched as you took a few deep breaths trying to focus on relaxing. You closed the curtains forcefully, a little too forcefully perhaps as they, along with the curtain rod came tumbling down. Your heart sank as tears filled your eyes, threatening to fall as you knew Wanda would be mad. As you heard her footsteps approach you quickly tugged off your shirt, tossing it in a pile alongside your discarded pants. You had already dug your grave and it was getting deeper. Thoughts raced through your head about what punishment would come. The more you thought the more your legs pressed together for any kind of release you could gain. Just as you sat down on the bed the door swung open. “What the hell was that?” She asked. Her voice was angry and her accent began to peak through her words as she spoke. Her head quickly turned and noticed the window. “Did you do this?” she asked in almost a patronizing tone. She knew you did it, the guilt on your face was obvious. 
You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth as she spoke, gnawing on it nervously as you considered your options. Slowly, you shook your head, the hesitation clear as tears brimmed your eyes. She walked over to you, one eyebrow raised in a way that she knew made you weak in the knees. She raised her hand before a loud echoing slap hit your cheek. You let out a moan and pressed your legs together harder as tears finally fell.  “Lying gets you nowhere. I'll ask you again, Detka.” she paused, faining tenderness as she wiped a tear away from your face. “Did you do this?” every word she spoke was drawn out and stern as she raised her eyebrow and held your chin in place, forcing you to look into her eyes. Slowly you began to nod, bracing yourself for the slap you knew was about to come. When she raised her hand a slap did not come. Instead, she giggled at your flinch and reached down, snapping your bra snap on your shoulder. “This is what happens when little girls try to do things that are too big for them,” she spoke slowly, making sure each word sunk in. “You didn't even have time to fully undress for Mommy.” she shook her head and snapped your bra strap once again before pushing you to lay back on the bed. She climbed on top of you, straddling one of your thighs as she ground her hips, working herself up. 
“Please Mommy,” you whined out softly as your hips raised into her, begging for any amount of pleasure you could get. Another slap fell hard across your cheek and you felt your thoughts slowly drift further into a fuzzy headspace. You moaned at the feeling. Her hand was wet from the tears that had fallen down your face and she made it a point to wipe her hand on your bare stomach. 
“I didn’t permit you to speak. Did I?” She asked firmly as she leaned down, kissing and nipping at your neck. You shook your head frantically as you struggled to keep your hands by your sides.  She slid her hands back up your stomach and muttered under her breath. “Good girl.” Before pulling your bra down to reveal your breasts. She wasted no time as she quickly kissed down towards your chest, taking the small bud into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around your nipple as her hand snaked down into your panties, finally touching you where you needed it most. She gasped dramatically and pulled her head up, locking eyes with you when she felt your wetness. Your face turned a deep shade of red as she proceeded to tease and taunt you for how wet you had been at her from only just slapping and teasing you. All of your thoughts were consumed by her in a fuzzy bliss. 
Without warning she slipped two fingers inside of you easily. Her fingers made quick work of pumping in and out, stretching and curling them just where you needed it most. You moaned loudly and wrapped your arms around her back, pulling her body closer to you as you hid your face in her shoulder, biting down softly on the tender flesh. This depicted a soft moan from Wanda as her hips jerked slowly against your thigh. She pulled her body back with a grin as she began to bite softly across your jaw. 
“Let me see your pretty face baby. I want to see you while I fuck you.” She said her fingers worked faster, her thumb reaching up to touch your throbbing clit. You blushed red as you looked into her eyes. The moon was shining through the window casting a moonlit glow across her face, a smirk forming across it. Just as quickly as she worked you up to an orgasm, she stopped. She pulled her hand away quickly and you found yourself frantically reaching for her wrist as your hips jerked underneath her.
“No! Mommy!” You yelled out exasperated as tears fell quickly from your eyes at the loss of sensation. She smirked down at you, her tongue slowly licking her lips. 
“You didn't think I'd let you cum that quickly after what a brat you've been the past few weeks little girl?” She asked in a patronizing manner as she pulled her hand out of your panties and brought her fingers to her lips. You moaned at the sight, her tongue licking her fingers clean, making a show of the process. Her fingers then slid into your mouth and you groaned at the taste of your arousal mixed with her. Your tongue swirled around her fingers as you proceeded to suck her fingers. 
“Please Mommy.” was all you could seem to muster out after she pulled her fingers out of your mouth. Your mind was clouded and fogged and just where Wanda wanted it. 
“Silly me,” she smiled as she looked down. “Mommy has been giving you all the pleasure, she completely forgot to undress.” she motioned towards her clothes before standing up. You groaned and reached for her when she stood, no longer touching you. You let out a soft murmur as your hands grabbed at her shirt, pressing your legs together. She stripped before walking back towards you. She tugged your panties down your legs and tossed them towards the pile of clothes before doing the same with your bra. You couldn't help but notice the wetness that had soaked Wanda's panties and now glistened her thighs. Your mouth watered at the sight as all you wanted to do was taste her. 
You knew how often you had fought lately and how the arguments left you due for punishment. You just weren't exactly sure what form it would take. Anticipation flooded through your body as you looked up into her eyes, your eyes wide and innocent. 
“You're going to eat me out until I cum, maybe then I'll give you what you want,” she stated firmly as she squeezed at your hips. Her touches were not gentle. Her fingers dug into your tender flesh, all of her anger, stress, and tension coming out onto you. You moaned at the touch, more sensitive and aware with each touch and mark she left across your body. She let go with a slap to your thigh and you groaned at the loss of her. You sat up and watched as she moved around the room, sitting on the bed in the middle, spreading her legs for you as she watched with dark eyes. “Come make Mommy feel good.” Her voice dripped with arousal as her words of encouragement enticed you further, not that it took much at this point though.
Quickly you moved and settled yourself between her legs. You slowly began kissing up her thighs, licking the path of arousal she had left for you. She grumbled impatiently above you, clearly already ready for attention where she needed it. Her hand snaked through your hair, gently at first as it stroked your scalp. She then grabbed a fistful, tugging your hair harshly as she forced you up higher, pushing your head between her legs. At the tug, you let out a loud moan as you cursed under your breath. You got the hint and stuck out your tongue quickly getting work between her legs. Your tongue licked up her slit before it brought fast attention to her clit. You brought your fingers up and slipped two fingers inside of her. You were kinder than Wanda had been to you, moving your fingers less harshly and aggressively. It worked nonetheless as she quickly rose to an orgasm with the combination of both your fingers and tongue. Her grip on your hair did not loosen as her hips began to jerk against your face. As she reached her peak she let out a loud moan, her hips moving frantically as she tugged harshly at your hair. The taste that hit your tongue made you moan as you quickly lapped up as much as she would allow before pulling your head away. 
Her chest rose and fell heavily as she caught her breath, a gentler hand moving to your neck. You leaned up her body as you kissed her passionately. When her tongue slid across your bottom lip and your mouth you eagerly allowed it entrance. A smile grew across her face as she pulled away. You whined at the loss but it was quickly relieved when she pressed a singular finger to your lips. 
“Mommy.” You moaned out as your hips began to grind against her stomach. Her hand snaked down her stomach to touch you, her fingers ghosting over your clit. 
“Come sit on my face Detka.” She said firmly as she adjusted her positioning, letting your thighs rest next to her head. You were hesitant yet eager as you slowly lowered yourself down, moaning loudly as her tongue finally made contact. Your hips jerked against her face as you ground against her tongue. You were worked up quickly, faster than ever as she seemed to know exactly where you needed it. She mumbled out from underneath you as she worked you up towards an orgasm. “Beg for it, Malyshka.”
Quickly words began to tumble out of your mouth as desperation to cum was needed. “Please, Mommy. Please!” You practically yelled as your hips jerked more, her nails digging into your thighs. “Please let me cum.” You begged. She complied with a grin.
“Cum for Mommy, Detka.” She said as her tongue moved rapidly beneath you. Instantly you reached your peak, reaching for the bead frame in front of you to steady yourself as you moaned loudly. When Wanda felt you had settled enough she gently pulled you down next to her and into her arms. You shook a little in Wanda's arms as she held you for the first time in weeks. Her fingers tangled in your hair as she slowly combed through the mess she had made, taking time to massage your scalp. All the thoughts of your fights had completely melted away and you were consumed by her and her embrace. 
“Mommy.” You murmured as tears began to fall on your cheeks again, your face nuzzling closely in the crook of her neck.
“You did so good baby, so good.” She praised quietly as she kissed behind your ear. Her fingertips found a gentle pattern of scratching up and down your back with one hand while the other massaged where she pulled your hair. Praise was whispered into your ear as she held you closely, not wanting to let go. Never wanting to let go. Slowly your sobs calmed and you settled into her embrace, slowly lifting your head to leave soft kisses across her jaw and neck. 
“I love you, Wanda.” The words left your mouth for the first time in weeks and a soft smile crept across your lips. Wandas' face glimmered with love as she pulled you into a kiss. 
“I love you too, Detka.” She whispered through kisses as she could only hold you closer. After a while of the silent embraces Wanda's thoughts of the fights crept back into memory. “We’re going to be okay.” She hesitated and looked towards you. “Right?” She spoke softly, her voice filled with fear at the thought of losing you. You nodded and kissed her softly, your mind foggy and cloudy as all you wanted was to be close to her. That night you slept close, tangled up in each other's love, neither wanting to pull away.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
The next morning when you woke up snuggled up in Wanda's arms felt different. The bliss that usually followed had dissipated and all you could think about was the pain of being with her. You gained a sinking pit in your stomach as guilt and fear coursed through your body. The flight response kicked in. You couldn't be with her, not now. Tears began to fall as you quickly but carefully left the bed and Wanda's embrace. Hurriedly you moved for some clothes as you threw on the closest things you could find without waking her. You reached for the door handle but paused. One glance back to Wanda confirmed it. You couldn't be here. So where did you go? Who greeted you with open arms? Natasha.
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midastouch013 · 21 days
Text
Exes And Stomach Flus
Based on this request
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Summary: You just came back from a horrible date, so what happens when you hear your ex throwing up on you way back.
Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Self-loathing (N). Break ups. Throwing up. Sick Nat
---
The echoes of a disastrous date reverberated in your mind as you trudged through the walls of the avengers compound. The evening had been a train wreck, courtesy of a pick-me chick whose incessant need for validation grated on your last nerve.
The terrible evening was a stark reminder of why you had distanced yourself from the dating scene in the first place. But even as you tried to push the memories aside, thoughts of Natasha flooded your mind, bringing with them the pain of your breakup.
It had been months since Natasha ended things, leaving you with more questions than answers. There were no explanations, no closure—just a void where your relationship had once thrived. In the aftermath, you had retreated from the avengers, fearing having to see her, seeking solace in solitude as you tried to heal the wounds she left on you.
And so when you reached Natasha's door, yours just 3 more down, you hesitated. Sighing heavily, ready to go to your room and drown your sorrows with a bottle of wine.
You, however, stopped when a muffled sound caught your attention—a retching, guttural sound that sent a pang of concern through you and before you knew it, against your better judgment, your hand was knocking softly on her door.
"Natasha?" you called out, pushing the door open cautiously. The bed had been abandoned but the bathroom lights glowed, and the sight that greeted you was unexpected, yet strangely familiar. There she was, Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow herself, hunched over the toilet, a ghost of her usual composed self. The sound of her sickness echoed in the room, stark against the backdrop of her vulnerability.
You stepped inside, closing the door behind you. "Hey," you murmured softly, approaching her side. "Are you okay?"
"I'll survive," she said cold and abrupt, although the weakness showed clearly
And that made you falter, feeling like an intruder in her space. The pain of being near her, yet so far from the intimacy you once shared, threatened to overwhelm you. You considered leaving, seeking solace in the company of someone—anyone—but the sight of Natasha's vulnerability rooted you to the spot.
"Nat," you murmured softly, torn between your desire to help and the ache in your heart. "Do you want me to get Clint or someone else?"
You were sure she'd ask for Clint, Wanda at the least, but Natasha's response was immediate, a desperate plea that cut through the air like a knife, a stark contrast to the previous response. "Please, don't leave me," she whispered, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper.
"Nat-asha, I don't know if this is a good idea," you protested weakly, your heart torn between conflicting emotions.
And for the first time in the last few months, her eyes look up at yours with a silent plea in her eyes. A look you knew all too well—a silent request for comfort, for you to be there in her time of need.
Despite the turmoil within, your heart couldn't ignore the silent plea in Natasha's eyes, nor the desperation in her weakened voice as she begged you to stay.
“Please”
For what felt like an eternity, you battled with your own emotions, protesting weakly against the overwhelming urge to leave. But with each passing moment, Natasha's grip on your hand tightened, her silent plea resonating within you, until finally, with a heavy sigh, you relented.
"I'll stay," you whispered softly, the words barely above a breath, yet weighted with the depth of your emotions.
Natasha's relief was palpable, a flicker of gratitude shining in her eyes as she leaned into your touch. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the quiet of the room, the silence, not for long though, as she hunched over the toilet again.
As Natasha retched again, you winced in sympathy, a pang of sorrow tightening your chest. Without hesitation, you moved closer, your hand rubbing soothing circles on her back as she endured another wave of sickness.
"It's okay, Nat," you whispered softly, your voice a gentle reassurance in the midst of her distress. "I'm here. You're going to be okay."
Natasha's only response was a weak nod, her grip on your hand tightening as she struggled to regain her composure. Despite the pain etched on her features, there was a quiet determination in her eyes—a silent acknowledgment of your presence and the strength it brought her.
As the waves of nausea subsided, you helped Natasha to her feet, her body trembling with weakness. With careful movements, you guided her to the bathroom sink, supporting her as she rinsed her mouth and splashed water on her face.
"Can you stand?" you asked softly, concern lacing your voice, when you realised she had finished throwing up.
With a determined nod, Natasha attempted to rise, but her legs wobbled beneath her, threatening to give way. Without hesitation, you stepped forward, your arms wrapping around her waist to steady her.
"I've got you," you murmured reassuringly, your voice a gentle anchor in the sea of uncertainty.
Together, you guided Natasha to the sink, supporting her as she leaned against the counter. With trembling hands, you picked up the toothbrush, applying toothpaste with careful precision.
"Here, let me help," you offered, your touch gentle as you guided the brush along Natasha's teeth. With each stroke, you could feel the tension in her body easing, her breaths coming easier as the discomfort began to fade.
As you helped her rinse her mouth and splash water on her face, you couldn't help but marvel at the vulnerability she displayed—the quiet strength that lay beneath her fragile exterior. She'd only ever shown you this few months after you started dating, and that was after you had admitted that you loved her.
With Natasha leaning against you for support, you guided her to the bedroom, your movements slow and deliberate. You helped her change into fresh clothes, your touch a silent reassurance of your presence.
You settled Natasha into bed, ensuring she was comfortable before taking your place on the opposite side, leaving a significant space between you.Then, in the stillness, you heard what seemed to be a small sniffle, followed by another. And another. And soon enough the sound of Natasha's silent tears filled the room. 
As Natasha's tears fell and she let out her first sob, something she never does, only ever silently crying, your concern intensified, your heart pounding with worry. "Nat, what's wrong?" you asked, your voice soft but urgent, reaching out to touch her trembling shoulder that faced away from you.
She recoiled slightly, as if your touch startled her, before finally turning around and meeting your gaze with eyes brimming with pain. "You… you'll hate me," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own cries.
Your brow furrowed in confusion, your own heartache mixing with concern for her. "Tasha, whatever it is, you can tell me," you urged gently, your voice tinged with worry.
“The reason-” she cracked, unsure of what to say, “The reason we broke up-” 
With a shaky breath, Natasha hesitated, her lips parting as if she struggled to find the right words. "It wasn’t you, it was me," she finally managed, her voice thick with emotion.
A surge of frustration and anger rose within you, the pain of her abrupt departure still fresh in your mind. "What do you mean, it's not me? You ended things without a word, Natasha!" you exclaimed, your voice trembling with emotion. "You left me without any explanation, and now you expect me to believe it's just you?"
As the words spilled from your lips, a torrent of hurt and betrayal and partially confused with why she was bringing it up in the first place, Natasha flinched, as if your words were a physical blow.
She let out a shaky breath.
"I felt unworthy… like all I could offer you was pain and darkness," she confessed, her voice trembling with self-condemnation. "I'm a monster, and you deserve so much more than that."
Natasha's confession struck you like a dagger, each syllable driving a wedge deeper into your heart. Your throat tightened with unshed tears as you listened to her unravel before you, her voice trembling with pain and anguish.
"I'm broken, Y/n," she choked out, her words a broken whisper against your chest. "I don't deserve your love... I don't deserve anyone's love."
Natasha's words hung heavy in the air, her words a painful echo of her inner turmoil, and you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. The weight of her self-loathing bore down on you like a crushing weight, threatening to break you more than you were by the breakup. And as she broke down before you, her sobs echoing in the darkness, you knew that you couldn't let her face this pain alone.
With sure hands, you quickly gathered her into your arms, pulling her into your chest despite the resistance in her movements. She pushed against you with all her strength, her cries of anguish muffled against your shoulder as she tried to push you away. But you held on, refusing to let go, your grip firm and unwavering as she struggled against you.
With each push, each desperate attempt to break free, your heart broke a little more, the pain of her rejection cutting deep into your soul. But you refused to give up, your love for her outweighing the ache in your heart. And so you held her close, whispering soothing words into her ear as she fought against you, her cries growing louder with each passing moment.
But slowly, oh so slowly, the resistance began to fade, her struggles growing weaker as the tears continued to fall. And as she finally collapsed against you, her body trembling with exhaustion, you held her close, your arms a silent refuge in the midst of the storm.
Gently, you brushed the tears from her cheeks, your touch tender as you cradled her close.
"Nat," you began softly, your voice a soothing balm in the darkness. "You're not everything you claim to be."
With a shaky breath, you launched into a heartfelt monologue, your words pouring forth much like the contents of her breakfast, lunch and dinner, a few moments prior
"You're not a monster, Nat," you asserted, your voice unwavering. "You're one of the bravest people I know. You escaped the Red Room, survived it. When Clint and I gave you a chance, you took it, you took it and never looked back. You're not broken—you're a survivor."
A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you continued, recounting the countless moments of humor and warmth that Natasha brought into your life. From her dry wit to her fierce loyalty, each trait painted a picture of a woman far far far away from the despicable figure she saw herself as.
"And let's not forget how you save millions of people, on a weekly basis" you added, a note of pride in your voice. "You risk your life all the time, from stopping bombs from detonating to fighting aliens conjured by gods, and because of you, countless lives were spared. That's not the mark of a monster—that's the mark of a hero."
"And don't even get me started on the cute things you do," you teased gently, a playful twinkle in your eye. "Like the way you scrunch up your nose when you're concentrating, or the way you pretend to hate it when I steal the last slice of pizza. Those quirks, they make you who you are. They make you human."
Leaning in, you pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "Tasha, you deserve the world," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. 
"You in the months we were together made me the luckiest and happiest person in the world, just by being next to me. And no matter what lies in your past, no matter what mistakes you think you've made, I'll always see you for the incredible person you are."
Despite the tears still lingering in her eyes, Natasha couldn't help but chuckle at your words, a faint glimmer of light returning to her gaze.
Natasha's tear-stained eyes searched yours, a glimmer of hope flickering within them. "You really think so?" she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah," you replied, your own voice filled with conviction. "As a matter of fact, I know so"
She gave you a small smile which didn't last long as her stomach lurched again and she was scrambling out, from under the covers.
As Natasha rushed up from the bed, the urgency in her movements palpable, you couldn't help but spring into action once more. Hurrying after her, you offered your support, holding back her hair as she retched into the toilet once more. The sound tore at your heart, a stark reminder of her vulnerability in this moment of weakness.
Once she had finished, you helped her back to bed, guiding her gently until she was settled against the pillows. As she leaned back against you, her breathing labored, a moment of vulnerability passed between you, her words hanging heavy in the air.
"I still love you," Natasha whispered softly, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the room.
You froze, her admission catching you off guard. "I… I just got back from a date," you stammered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.
The hurt flickered in Natasha's eyes, a guardedness settling over her features once more. With a determined look, she tried to sit up, as if preparing to distance herself once more.
But you couldn't let her, you wouldn't. Without hesitation, you reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "Nat, wait," you urged, your voice filled with urgency. "I'm… I'm still in love with you too."
And that seemed to click in her head as she relaxed in your arms again but a small tension lingered in the air, the weight of your admissions still hanging heavy between you. And, just as the silence threatened to become suffocating, you felt a spark of mischief flicker within you.
"Well, I suppose that's one way to get back with your ex," you quipped, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips.
Natasha's chuckle was music to your ears, a soft melody that chased away the lingering tension in the room. "I guess you're right," she replied, her voice laced with amusement, before adding. "I'd kiss you right now if my mouth didn't taste of puke."
The humor in her words caught you off guard, a burst of laughter bubbling up from deep within you. "Well, that's a mood killer if I ever heard one," you joked, the laughter easing the weight from your shoulders.
And so, a toothbrush and paste later, you finally got to kiss the ruby red lips of the love of your life again. Knowing that it only got better from this.
------------------
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lots-of-pockets · 9 months
Text
Unconventional comfort
Pairings: Natasha x you
Words: 1379
Warnings: This contains nursing. It is not s*xual in any way but it is slightly unconventional hence the warning. If you don’t like it or do not have anything kind to day, please move on. Thank you
Summary: You had accidentally - and thankfully, managed to provide Natasha with a comfort and closeness she'd always been denied.
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It wasn't rare for Natasha to have nightmares. Due to her past, they were kind of expected. Every night at around the same time, you'd be abruptly awoken by a muffled cry of fear coming from the spot just next to you. You'd rouse almost instantly, desperate to sooth her but not daring to touch her in fear of how she'd react. Sometimes, she'd manage to bring herself out of it.
She'd wake up only briefly before seeking you out with a soft whimper of both fear and confusion, and you'd pull her into your arms, sooth her back to sleep with a gentle hand grazing over the bare skin of her back.
Other times, you weren't so lucky.
There was one time, just a few short months ago that she'd had one of the worst nightmares that exists to date. It had started with her shifting in place slightly, eyebrows furrowed as she lets out a small whimper.
But then it had progressed into quiet cries that had slowly risen in volume until they could be perceived as literal screams of terror. In the midst of your own fear and panic, you'd instinctively made the mistake of trying to wake her.
It was just a touch. Barely even a graze of your finger against her skin. But it was enough. She'd violently shoved you away from her with that could only be described of cry of unbridled rage. Her hands had reached for your throat, and you were sure they would have reached their destination if it hadn't been for the sleepy disorientation still clouding her hazy, tormented mind.
With a skill you didn't even know you possessed, you had managed to haul her thriving body into your arms. You'd situated yourself against the headboard with her between your legs, both your arms and legs pinning her body to your own. She'd screamed. She'd thrashed and swore and called you every name under the sun. But you hadn't let her go.
Eventually, she'd seemed to realise you wouldn't be letting her go and was quick to slump into a defeated lump in your arms.
You'd adjusted her slightly so she was more or less cradled, her legs curled up against your hip whilst her head had come to rest against your chest. Your own arms had secured her to you, gentle hands brushing the sweat soaked hair out of her face whilst gentle coos of comfort had escaped your lips.
Her hands had risen to take ahold of your shirt, silently clinging, pleading even, not to let her go. She was sniffling quietly, eyes drooping and quietly pleading for sleep. But she refuses to allow it, and you don't dare force her.
As Natasha had laid there, cradled in your arms like she was no more than an infant, she'd reached for your hand and had coaxed it to her face. You had understood her silent implication, tenderly cupping her cheek and grazing the pad of your thumb over the still damp skin.
What happened next had been a complete accident.
Due to being half asleep and rather uncoordinated, your thumb had slipped down slightly and had grazed over her bottom lip as opposed to her cheek. Natasha, seemingly close to sleep as well, had simply reacted upon instinct. Her lips had parted, and she'd accepted the pad of your thumb into her mouth without hesitation before beginning to suckle.
You'd stared down at her in awe, too scared to move and disturb the serene look of complete content that had slipped onto her features. It had felt like seconds and hours all at the same time before the current predicament it had simultaneously clicked for the both of you.
Like she had been set on fire, Natasha had pulled away from your thumb. Her eyes had ripped open, irises full of both embarrassment and humiliation. She'd looked up at you with a look so full of fear it was almost as though she was waiting for you to belittle her.
But you couldn't and wouldn't ever do that.
Before she could even begin to rip herself out of your arms, a strange sense of calm had settled upon you and you'd found yourself gently coaxing her back to your chest. She'd complied warily, and not a word was spoken between the two of you as you had once again trialed the pad of your thumb over her bottom lip.
Her hand had risen to timidly cover your own, and as she'd continue to stare to at you with a look so heartbreakingly full of fear, you'd gently parted her lips and coaxed the pad of your thumb back into her mouth.
Whether it be instinct or something else entirely, she'd begun to suckle almost instantly, her whole body going limp with what could only be described as relief. Her eyes had fluttered closed, and with your free hand, you'd traced gentle circles over the small of her back.
*
It was on the third nightmare of the week that the dynamic had shifted a little. You'd been undoubtedly exhausted after just getting back from a two day stakeout with Clint and Yelena, so when Natasha has woken with yet another nightmare, you'd simply pulled her into your chest.
She had seemed placated. She'd gone quiet and still, laying there on her side with with her head buried between your breasts. You had just begun to drift of to sleep again when what could only be described as a whine had escaped her lips, and though your body had protested, you had gone to sit up so she could have access to your thumb.
But one simple action had stopped you. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, she'd latched on to the swell of your breast over the material of your shirt. Her suckles were gentle and consistent, the heat of her mouth leaving your shirt slightly damp. You'd stared at her, stunned, and almost entranced at the sight before you.
It had taken only moments for everything to seemingly fall into place.
Natasha would always pay careful to your breasts during intimate moments. She'd almost worship them, in a sense, and she'd said many times that they were one of her favourite things about you. As you watched her mouth move, you'd come to the realisation that letting her suckle would be the same thing but with a slightly different context.
You hadn't allowed yourself to hesitate as you'd pulled off your shirt, shuffling up the bed slightly so that your breast were level with her head. Cupping the flesh, you'd grazed your nipple over her bottom lip, and just like the many tunes before, instinct had her latching on without hesitation.
You felt the hot air of her content exhale before you'd heard it, and with a hand on the back of her head to keep her close, you'd settled back into your pillow, feeling more than seeing her soft suckles against your skin.
It was pleasant feeling, but not in an pleasurable way. More so it was soothing, and before you knew it, you felt yourself falling back to sleep too.
*
What occurs on those bad nights was never brought up between the two of you. In fact, if it wasn't for the occasional awkward glance sent your way from Natasha, you would have assumed you'd dreamt it.
You didn't necessarily mind, because you knew how hard it was for Natasha to open herself up and allow herself to be seen in such a vulnerable yet intimate way. But a part of you did wish she would at least acknowledge it so you didn't feel so alone.
Thankfully, you knew wasn't because she regrets it or didn't like it. Each gentle tug at your shirt after every bad dream proves that. You just wish she knew it was nothing to be embarrassed about and hoped one day, that would be the case.
**
I hope you enjoyed 🩵
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unholyhelbig · 5 months
Note
Natasha Romanoff x Reader with "Who did this to you?"
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Title: Hallway Meetings
Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff
Wordcount: 2077
Warnings: Injuries, blood, bruising, mugging, Bad Grammar
[A/n: I haven't written Nat in awhile, so here is some hurt comfort!]
Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests
By the time you made it back to your apartment, the adrenaline had sufficiently worn off. The rush of energy that kept the pain at bay was the only thing that made it possible for you to sit through the bus ride across the city, the lights were much too bright and blue, your head pounding. You pressed your fingers against your ribs on the ride home, each exhalation trembling.
Somewhere along the way, the bus came rolling to a stop and the man behind the wheel huffed out at you. “End of the line.”
You were the only one on the bus, and by that time, you were fighting sleep entirely. There was no one else on the bus, and you didn’t see the point in arguing with him. His eyes were tired and dark. Something told you he was having a worse day than you were.
With begrudging compliance, you walked the three blocks to your building. You had forgotten your coat, and by the time you made it to the entrance, there was a numbness to the fingers that you refused to realize until you typed your code in and felt what real warmth was for only a moment.
The lobby smelled damp, as it always did despite the dry winter that the city was experiencing. Sickly yellow lights changed the tile on the floor from beige to green, and you lamented the fact that the elevator that had been busted since your move-in date was still in the same condition.
Any other day, it wouldn’t’ bother you. But you let out an involuntary groan at the sight before making your way up the first flight of stairs, your fingers still pushed against the aching of your mid-section. You were certain that they were broken, or at the very least, bruised. It pained you to take a deep breath.
Two more flights of stairs and the excitement of the night had worn away entirely. Your whole body pulsed with pain, with fatigue and regret for not listening to your mother the million times she told you to be careful on your way home, to keep an eye on your surroundings.
It’s not you that I don’t trust, it’s other people. Her words echoed listlessly in your mind as you searched your pockets for your keys. The group of men who had jumped you must have snagged them too, or they were lost in the shuffle of things. Either way, you were locked out, and the damn was about to break.
“Come on,” You whispered, pressing your aching head against the cool wood of the door. You suppose you should be thinking whatever higher power was up there for letting you escape with your life, just not your cell phone. But right now, it all felt like a cruel joke.
You weren’t sure how long you lingered there, but it was long enough to slide down to the carpeted hallway and lean your head against the wall. It was much too late to call your landlord, even if you could. You were suddenly content to sleep the night off in the corridor. Concussion or not, unconsciousness called to you.
At some point, you’d drifted off to the buzzing sound of the overhead lights. When your neighbor approached, you didn’t’ make any attempt to unfold yourself at the sound of her soft footsteps. She had always been so courteous when she was home, making as little noise as possible, even when she arrived well into the night. This was no different.
She put her hand on your shoulder softly, it was a stark difference from the cold of the hallway, and you startled all the same, inhaling deeply and with enough haste to make you wince, a soft “ow,” escaping your lips.
Natasha was knelt down in front of you, an undeniable look of worry on her face. The two of you had been neighbors for over a year now, and you would be the last to admit that you wanted to get to know her better. She was quite elusive, and always kind. She was a mystery to you, and that made you all the more curious.
The two of you operated on the same schedule when she was home. You often ended up walking down to the mailboxes together, sharing in small talk. She was guarded at first, but the first time you had gotten her to open up, to laugh at a joke you couldn’t even recall, you knew that you wanted to hear that sound more than once.
Natasha would help you up the stairs with your groceries, despite your protests. You would help her learn how to cook something other than boxed mac and cheese. The two of you had shared a six-pack of beer during the buildings holiday block party on the roof, despite the cold. That night, Natasha had taught you how to peg a stop sign with a snowball, her aim impeccable.
The moments were few and far between, but they meant something to you both. You hadn’t seen her for about a month at this point and figured that she was traveling. There was no mention of what she did for work, and she seemed content not to tell you, just as you were content to let her do so in her own time. 
There was a suitcase next to her door, something you had never seen her with before. She was dressed in sweats, looking casual from a long day of travel. Her auburn hair was up in a loose bun, strands falling and framing her face. You couldn’t help but think that she was stunning.
Your face must have looked pretty banged up, because you could audibly hear her breath lodge in her throat. You hadn’t bothered calling the police, nor did you see much benefit in lingering in the spot that you’d been attacked. The only thought on your mind was getting back here, certainly not with the intention of seeing Natasha.
“Y/n,” her voice was gravelly. There was a coolness to her fingers that you wanted to lean into as she lifted your chin to get a better look at the pulsing feeling around your eye. You winced as her thumb moved against your busted lip, smearing away a streak of blood. “Who did this to you?”
Her voice was hard, almost with an edge of a threat on her tongue. You’d never heard her sound this way before. She was always soft, if not quiet in her calculations. Now, you saw worry and anger etched onto her beautiful features.
“Just some guys,” you said in an exhalation. “It’s not a big deal I got locked out.” 
The attempt to diffuse her worry was going poorly. Natasha frowned at you and released your chin. You struggled to voice your protests as Natasha eased her arm tightly around your center, pulling you to your feet. You saw stars, not quite sure if it was from her sudden closeness, or the exhaustive injuries.
Natasha was strong. She held you with little effort, even as you threatened to slump back down into your previous position. She unlocked her door, and you were welcomed with a warm darkness until she flicked on the light by the door.
Her home was modest, and understated. It overlooked a beautiful part of the city, the walls lined with novels that you’d otherwise be interested in. There were undertones of vanilla and tobacco, the same scent Natasha carried like a sword, your nose pressed against the small of her neck as she led you to the sofa and deposited you there.
Natasha vanished down the hallway. If her apartment mirrored yours, she would move towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. You nudged yourself up taller on the sofa, trying not to let your blood wick into its fabric. When She returned, she sheepishly shook a first-aide kit.
She set out her supplies and you groaned when you saw the bottle of iodine and cotton pads. She had done this before. Natasha worked with ease, she unscrewed the cap on the bottle before flipping it onto the pad, a sick brown liquid sopped into the surface. You could smell it from here, nose crinkling in response.
“Stop squirming, this will help.”
You highly doubted that, but all the same, let her work at the cut that was slit across your eyebrow. She dabbed the antiseptic and you refused to pull away. You knew that you would never try to get out of Natasha’s grasp. Her hand was warm and guiding. The sting eventually eased.
She asked, “Do you remember where you were when this happened?”
“Whoever they are, they’re long gone.”
You drew in a sharp breath when she nudged your ribs by accident. A discontent frown fell across her features. It wasn’t the same look of heated anger that dawned on her in the hallway. Instead, this was one of pure concern.
“We should really wrap that, you know? There’s no cure for broken ribs, but we can ease your suffering a bit with some plastic wrap.”
Before you could answer she put the iodine on the table and walked towards her kitchen. You watched her carefully. Each movement was calculated. “How do you know so much about this?”
“I’ve been put into some unsavory positions.” Natasha returned with a meager roll of cellophane. She stood, a pink color on her cheeks. “You’re going to have to take off your shirt.”
Now you were sputtering, mumbling a few things under your breath. The thrumming of your mid-section was enough for you to agree, even though your own cheeks heated up at the thought. She had a bit of a quirk to her lip, both eyebrows raised in amusement.
You got stuck halfway through, a twinge of pain shooting through your core. You must have winced, or Natasha could read the pain in your eyes because she mercifully helped you the rest of the way out. When she was done, the two of you were incredibly close, her breath warm on your skin, goosebumps coating every inch of your body.
A budding bruise stretched across your ribs, marring the tender flesh there. Natasha exhaled deeply, you felt the action everywhere. Her fingers moved across the deep smudges of brown and black and purple. Your mouth was suddenly dry as her forehead leaned against yours. She was quieter than usual.
“This shouldn’t have happened.” Natasha was knelt in front of you again, glowering as her soft touch soothed your aching. “I’ve spent my entire life making up for mistakes that I’ve made. Trying to stop the big bads of the world when… when horrible things happen everywhere, and the truth is, I can’t stop everything.”
“You don’t need to shoulder that responsibility, Natasha.” You mindlessly cupped her cheek and she sighed into the touch, her eyes closing for a moment of gratitude. “That’s not your job.”
“It is,” She swallowed hard “it is. And it pains me that you’re hurting like this. That I couldn’t protect you. All I’ve wanted to do since the moment I’ve met you is protect you from me, and seeing you like this, God, it shouldn’t’ have happened.”
She was crying, and you thumbed them away as she had done with your blood a few moments earlier. If there was any hesitancy in her emotion, it washed away with the simple gesture. Her nose brushed against yours, cold from the journey home.
Nat smelled of melted snow and you remembered the night on the rooftop. The way your elbows brushed together as you watched the lights over the city. You almost closed the distance then and there, but she’d pulled away, and you awkwardly downed another frothy beer before she threw a second snowball, nailing the stop sign where you had fallen short.
Now, it was her that leaned in. There was a slight nip of pain where your lip had split, but it eased slowly into pleasure. She tasted like hazelnut coffee from the airport, of an edge of mind. Your fingers traced her jaw. She sighed into the kiss, the most fragile sound in the world.
You broke the embrace regrettably, sucking air through your teeth “oh, ouch.”
“Sorry, I’m sorry” she chuckled softly, nudging her forehead with her own, touch dancing over your midsection. “We really should get you patched up.”
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Sleepless nights
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Natasha Romanoff x reader
Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆
Summary - you go on a routine mission which ends badly how will your girlfriend react
Warnings - gunshots, violence, bullet wounds, mention of stitches, likely medically incorrect, blood, hospital? Not proofread
word count - 1.5k
A/n - I dont know what happened while writing this its all a blackout. As always any feedback is rlly appreciated!!!
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It was just supposed to be another simple routine mission. Over and done with in a matter of hours. But of course nothing was ever as easy as predicted.
It had all been going with relative ease until you and Clint were fighting off agents left and right. Something you were usually both good at. However where you'd found yourselves was very much enclosed meaning you couldn't run and you had no idea how many or where these agents were coming from. Your backs were against each other as you moved in circular motions around the room.
"You did this you know, everything was going just fine until you said 'wow this mission has been quite the breeze.'" You mimick Clints earlier words in a squeaky high pitched voice while taking out a couple agents. "Couldn't have just waited till we were on the quinjet could you?"
"Look I really thought it was over. At least I wasn't the one who knocked over the vase alerting everyone in the Tri-state area of our location." He pipes back as you both fall into the usual bickering banter you often did, squabbling like small children. You and Clint had always been close and worked well with each other despite the constant pecking at each other. You'd become even closer once you'd gotten together with his best friend Natasha. Well, after he stopped threatening you about breaking her heart that is.
"Okay well atleast I'm not stupid."
"Yeah real mature. What does that even mean?" He retorts back with a chuckle at how quickly you begin to lose an argument and just throw childish insults at him.
"I thought you'd be smart enough to understand a simple senten-.." You trail off as you see an agent aiming at Clint, one he hadn't noticed. Though you considered letting the agent hit him and getting to be considered the better fighter it wasn't worth letting your friend die just to one up him.
"Clint watch out." You yell frantically as you watch the agent take aim. Clint wasn't going to have time to move. You panicked and shoved him to the floor knocking him from the bullet.
You don't think much of it when you don't see the bullet land or even when you vision blurs. It's only you notice somethings up when you see a blood splattering on your hand. Instinctively you look for Clint worried something hit him but you find him staring right back at you. That's when you feel the searing pain from your hip. Placing a hand over it to find out what's wrong, you feel a cold and wet substance spilling from it.
Thats when everything starts spinning. Moving too quick but not fast enough at all. The pain feeling worse, like nothing you've ever felt before as the adrenaline wears off and the severity of the situation sets in.
"Y/n look at me." Clints voice is grounding and calm making you briefly feel better. "There's no agents left okay. We're going to walk together to the quinjet, don't rush yourself it's going to be okay." You nod along even though your unsure you'll be able to walk that far as your vision fades in and on like a flickering TV.
He moves over to you and presses your hand firmly over the wound. "Keep your hand there and apply as much pressure as you can." Despite the way you stumble around as you try to apply any pressure at all to the wound he still sounds calm like he believes you can do this.
His hand hooks around you helping hold you up as the two of you begin a slow walk back. Things aren't looking too bad at first I mean sure you can hardly see infront of you an everytime you open your mouth to speak the only thing that sounds is a groan of pain but your managing it, you feel yourself believe you'll be able to do this walk back.
That is all before you trip over a stone which sends you tumbling onto your front, directly where the bullet wound is is where you hit the hardest when you fall causing you to scream out in pain with a noise you never knew you'd make. Clint immediately tries to pull you back to your feet while telling you how close you are to getting home but it's no use as your body goes stiff, legs refusing to move.
"Natasha is gonna kill me." I mumble half heartedly as he holds me up and my vision fades for what I believe might be the final time.
"Not if she kills me first." He chuckles and that's the last thing you hear before everything goes black.
Two days. Two whole days they said you were out for. You missed two days. Two days where you didn't see Natasha but she saw you, she sat by you every minute she could and when she couldn't sit anymore she slept by you not leaving for a second. She wouldn't even leave your hospital room for food. Clint having to practically force food down her throat so she didn't end up in a hospital bed alongside you.
You blinked awake. You'd been awake about an hour prior but were too drugged up to process anything going on and had quickly fallen back into your slumber. This time you were much more determined to stay awake, that and your pain medication was wearing off and you could begin to feel a sharp pain replacing the previously dull one.
As you woke yourself up to the bright white fluorescent lights of the hospital, those lights which practically felt blinding. Giving you little time to adjust to being awake, Natasha started speaking.
"So what happened?" She sounded angry. A little rough maybe as the Russian tinged her accent slightly in a way you only heard few times. As you located where her voice had come from, a small chair just to the left of your bed. Now that you could see her she seemed more worn out or stressed out the angry. Dark circles lurked under her eyes as her forhead creased showing visible lines.
"Uh.. didn't uhm.. Clint... tell you." You slowly mumble out as you try to push myself into a sitting position but before you can Natasha is up and pushing you back down to lie down.
"The doctor said you can't sit up yet or you'll move the stitches. And no he hasn't explained anything, so you better." She lays your head back on the pillow with such a contrasting softness to the way she's speaking which is almost as if she's interrogating you.
You roll your head over the side to face her as you recount what you remember from the mission. "So basically me and Clint, well especially me are kicking ass knocking these agents to the ground. But then one aims at Clint and I push him out the way and now we're here." You explain the best you can but it's just so difficult when your heads all fuzzy and until five minutes ago you were convinced you were dead. "I thought I was gonna die 'Tasha."
"You shouldn't put yourself at risk like that baby." She says while brushing stray hairs away from your face and back behind your ears. "Things could have been a lot worse.." her voice trails off all usual roughness gone as she appears as if she may break down crying at any second. "I could have lost you."
That's all it takes for you to start crying as hot tears stream your face making it hard to see anything. Seeing your deteriorating emotional state Natasha makes the descion to crawl into the bed next to you. "Oh hush now, it's alright. I was just worried about you lyubov." she coos while leaning over to kiss your dampened cheek.
"I know I know.. I'm just really sorry... I dont ever want to lose you Natasha." Your tears keep falling despite her soft, reassuring words.
"Y/n, I don't want to lose you either. Which is why I think it could be time we retired before either of us do. Of course it's up to you though, I won't pressure you."
It takes you a minute to process her words but when you do your glad for them. You'd been considering at least cutting down your workload recently but hadn't considered Natasha would be open to retirement at such a young age. You can feel your face break out into a small smile as she suggests it herself. Her own face is one of nervous apprehension as she chews on her lip.
"Yes. Please I want nothing more than to retire and with you." You reach in to kiss her face eagerly. Your lips smothering hers in an almost desperate fashion as if you were worried it could be your last.
"If this is what retirement is like I cant wait." She whispers as she pulls away from your lips, nipping them gently first. She cups your face in her hands before leaning back in.
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Daddy Issues
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Natasha X Reader
Inspired by the song Daddy Issues by the Neighbourhood.
Warnings: Physical Abuse, Trauma, Difficult Childhood, Hurt/comfort, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, Panic Attacks.
Please consider these Warnings before reading. This is a Mature Rated Fic.
Y/n was the newest member of the avengers team and Natasha was very intrigued by the young woman. She was always on guard and had a mask similar to the spy to not let their true emotions show. Curious as to why, Natasha watched the woman with caution, her instinct to not trust and find out the truth had gotten the better of her. But the truth would affect her more then she realised.
Daddy stuck around but he wasn't present Cheated on your mom but she never left him
The Avengers were sat around the kitchen ready for breakfast when Clint said, “God this tastes exactly what my old man used to make,” his tone nostalgic as he remembered his father making him breakfast. The team laughed and started to talk about their own childhoods due to prompt from the archer. You tensed slightly at the topic but made sure your walls stayed high as you didn’t need anyone knowing. However you failed to notice a certain redhead saw how you started to just push your food around on your plate and remained quiet. Not wanting to be there anymore, you made a reasonable excuse to leave and smiled at everyone before leaving raising no suspicions from anyone else.
First I didn't get it, now I understand
“What’s that now? Like 10-0?” the spy teased as she had once again pinned you to the training mats. You huffed out in annoyance as you hated training with Natasha as it always ended in teasing and you on the floor is positions way too familiar, except you knew she would never purposely hurt you. Not like he did.
“What’s that from?” She questioned while seeing the large scar on your stomach as your loose t-shirt had ridden up while being thrown on the floor.
“Just a silly accident as a child.” You quickly brushed the subject aside while pulling the ends of the black fabric down to cover it. Natasha saw the ways your eyes flickered with fear and conflict before your mask once again came back up.
“Oh ok,” she said, acting convinced for you to believe her, “Want to go again? Maybe you’ll land a hit this time.” Her tone mocking in a playful way but it only brought you another painful memory.
You heard shouting coming from downstairs before a little knock at your door. Your younger brother peaked his head around the door, his eyes full of fear.
“Y/n?” his voice barely above a whisper as he came into the room searching for his older sister.
“Hey I’m right here,” you softly spoke to him, attempting to calm him down as you could see how scared he was. “Why don’t you spend the night in my room?” you asked while pulling him in for a gentle embrace. You felt a little nod against your chest and pulled him into your bed. “You stay right there for me ok? You’re safe in here, he won’t get you. I won’t let him.” You pulled back to see tears threatening to fall but he nodded once again before you went to leave the room.
“Y/n please don’t go. He’ll hurt you again,” he pleaded as you reached for the door handle.
“It’s ok Y/b/n. I need to help mommy,” you turned to look at him curled in your duvet, “I’ll be fine.”
When you reached downstairs all you could smell was alcohol as you saw him. Your father was screaming at your mother as her hand rubbed over the red handprint across her face.
“Get the fuck away from her,” you spat as you ran over to your mother and pushed the man out of your way.
“You want to say that again you little bitch,” he growled as he shoved you away from your mother.
“I said get the fuck away from her!” you shouted, the rage that was bottled up inside you was now spilling out.
“I’d like to see you try and land a hit on me you pathetic little bitch,” he snarled while taking a swig of the bottle of alcohol in his hand before advancing towards your sobbing mother again. With all your strength you pushed him over before he could swing the bottle at your mother. You didn’t register anything till you saw the panic in your mothers eyes and the sinister look on his face before feeling a sudden pain along your stomach and your shirt becoming wet and sticky.
“Y/n?” questioned the spy as you had zoned out after her question.
“Huh,” you looked at her before replying, “Oh. Uh no thanks, I’ve had enough for today.” You smiled at her while rubbing the back of your neck, your nails digging into the skin there to punish yourself you being so vulnerable. “I’m going to go now Nat. Thanks for training,” you smiled at her before leaving her alone in the gym.
He broke her heart, left money in her hand So everything got paid for
“So Y/n, what’s your favourite childhood memory?” asked Tony as the whole team were enjoying a nice night in, sharing stories to provide entertainment.
“There’s so many how could I choose?” you lied while laughing with the others, trying your best to avoid the subject.
“Come on,” Tony said with a hint of stubbornness in his tone, “There’s got to be one that’s your favourite?”
“Yeah come on Y/n,” spoke a few other Avengers
“Ok, ok,” you raised your hands in defeat as you thought carefully, trying to find a happy memory. “It was my little brothers birthday and my mother and father gave us money to go to the local fair with,” you started trying to talk about your father in a way that didn’t seem like he ruined your life when that’s all he did, “He wanted to go on every single ride with me and practically dragged me around the place,” you laughed at the memory of seeing his face, his smile bright enough to light up a room. “But we went on this one ride that was too much for him and he swore to me he would never go on a ride ever again,” you chuckled at remembering his pale face as if he had just done the scariest thing in the world.
“Hey you ok?” you asked as he stumbled off the ride, a little smile on his face.
“Yeah I’m fine,” he gasped out while walking with you to exit the ride, “ I am never going on another ride ever again,” he exclaimed while looking at you. You raised your eyebrow at his suggestion before he quickly said, “Hey I’m being serious! That was terrifying!” you laughed at his seriousness before giving him a side hug and looking for your parents. After scanning the crowd you saw your father talking to another woman, his hands on her waist and a flirtatious look in his eyes. You looked past him to see your mother stood alone smoking, looking as if she was about to cry on the spot. You suggested to your brother that you could go find a game to play to avoid him seeing your parents.
A hand on your leg snapped you back to your thoughts. Natasha saw how after a moment or two of remembering the event your smile seemed to falter so she tried to bring you back to reality.
“Seems like someone was enjoying the memory too much,” she joked before changing the subject to spare you. After a while you slipped out of the room and no one seemed to notice. Well except for a certain redhead.
A few weeks later you found yourself at one of Starks after parties along with your team mates who had all seemed to had a bit to drink from the earlier main party. You were the only one there who hadn’t drunk anything alcoholic as you refused to drink anything like that. You zoned out while everyone started to talk as this wasn’t one of the things you liked to do. You started to pay attention to what was happening when you heard two male voices starting to get louder. You gripped the arm of the sofa you were sat in while your leg started to bounce slightly in anxiety. When Tony and Steve had started to properly argue and shout at each other you felt your thoughts spiralling out of control. Flashes how he would shout at you mother filled your brain, how he would beat her for wanting the best for their children, no her children, he had lost the title of being your father the first time he hit your mother. Other painful memories invaded your brain such as how he would hit you, pin you to the ground and do unimaginable things to a child and laugh as he saw your brother and mother shy away in fear. Your breath started to quicken and your hands started to tremble so you decided you needed to leave the room as quick as possible.
Suddenly you stood up and left the room as everyone was preoccupied with stopping the super soldier and billionaire from fighting. You managed to get to the roof of the compound, the place where you would go if anything became too much such as now, before your legs gave way and you collapsed against the wall. You let your body take control as you couldn’t keep the emotions in anymore. Your whole body violently shook as you sobbed into your hands.
All you could see was him. His face. His hands as he held you down. The screams of your mother. Your screams. The silhouette of your younger brother watching. The smell of alcohol. The feeling of pain. The feeling of when he would-
“Y/n…” Natasha’s tone was laced with fear as she saw you against the wall. After seeing you leave when the boys had started to fight she seemed to piece together an idea of what had happened to you and went to check on you. You didn’t look up when you heard her you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. What would she think of you now? A weak girl troubled by her past? A pathetic excuse of a person? A waste of space? She stepped towards you to try and comfort you but you flinched away at the sound of her footsteps.
“Please,” you sobbed out, ”Please leave me alone,” you begged, “Please don’t hurt me,” you croaked out before glancing at her feet to see where she was.
And when you told me the whole story I felt like throwing up
“Y/n,” she softly whispered, “Its me Nat. I’m not going to hurt you I promise.” You looked up slowly to see the spy through your tear filled eyes.
“Nat?” your voice shakily asked.
“Yeah it’s me. Can I come closer to your?” She watched as you tensed up before nodding at her request, your eyes meeting hers.
I can see it on your face it was rough Left a bad taste on your tongue
She slowly walked towards you and crouched next to you so you could see where she was without raising your head too much. “Hey its ok Y/n,” she cooed causing you to relax, “I’ve got you now. Your safe.” She repeated the phrase again and again till your sobs turned to whimpers and your body wasn’t shaking as much. “Can I touch you?” she whispered scared if she spoke too loud you would feel scared again. You weakly nodded and she gently cupped your face with her hands and wiped away the tears on your face.
And she didn't even take any drugs She would rain all day Couldn't wait for her sun to shine
You looked into her green eyes expecting to see disappointment or even disgust but all you saw was love and care. You hesitantly reached forward with your hands, wanting to hold her close and find comfort in someone but you stopped. You didn’t want to cross any boundaries with her as you thought it was bad enough that she was seeing you like this. Picking up on what you wanted, she carefully moved her hands around your shoulders and pulled you into her lap. She held you close and tightly as you started to cry into her neck. You murmured apologies against her skin until she told you it wasn’t your fault. You stayed quiet after that and just held onto her. She didn’t realise how much you needed her but she was happy to stay with you through it all.
And you made it shine There when she cried, you saved her life
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Icicles and Injuries
Pairing: Wandanat x Reader
Prompts: Frozen (Day 2) + No way out (Day 11)
TW: minor injury, being trapped, hypothermia, mentions of death, partial nudity (consented)
Words: 2K
Summary: Reader gets trapped and needs to be saved before she freezes to death.
For once the miss had gone well. No injuries or accidents or hidden traps. It had been a breeze. Now all that was left was to sit tight in the nearest safe house in the woods and wait for Tony to send a jet to come and collect you. ‘You’ being Wanda, Natasha, Kate and Yelena.
By late afternoon it was still light outside and snowing lightly. A white dust of flakes covered every available surface in a thin layer of pale snow.
Being in the woods it was a beautiful sight to behold, yet Natasha and Yelena having come from Russia were most winters bordered on nuclear, did not share your enthusiasm.
Wanda and Kate had spent some time in Europe before and were a little more used to it. And sure, you had seen snow many times, but it was always a point of beauty to you. It helped you relax. Soft and cold it continued to drift down from above coating the landscape below.
“Wands? Natty? Do you guys wanna come with me for a walk?” You asked popping your head into the lounge room of the cabin.
“No thanks detka. Not right now. Yelena and Kate were going to watch a movie and I think Wanda was going to start dinner soon.” Natasha said looking genuine.
“Okay.” You said feeling a little saddened by the fact nobody would be coming with.
“Make sure you take a coat. It’s cold.” Nat said over her shoulder as she positioned herself between her sister and her sister's girlfriend with a shit-eating grin. Always the older sister, you thought rolling your eyes.
You said a quick goodbye to Wanda who echoed Nat’s statement about a coat before putting one on and a pair of gloves, boots and a beanie before entering the snow scene outside the cabin.
You headed for the trail behind the house. It was marked with signs on the trees as it snowed enough around here for trails to be easily lost without proper signage.
You sighed, feeling at peace and relaxed as the snow crunched softly underfoot. Setting off down the trail it was lined with fresh snow and small animal tracks, probably squirrels or rabbits.
As you continued down the track the cabin grew smaller behind you. It was a loop and came out down by the other side of the house.
Seeing the first sign on the tree you smiled at the small red arrow which was on a wood-stained oak board nailed into the tree.
You continued down the track listening to the serene quietness and peaceful sound of snow and birdsong.
Pulling your coat around you some more it was getting colder as the evening wore on and your nose was surely frozen as small snowflakes collected on your eyelashes.
As you continued down the short trail a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. A small squirrel had hopped up onto what looked like the snow-covered husk of an old tree. The little creature chittered at you and you smiled softly at the peacefulness of the moment.
But before you could even think the squirrel ran up the tree. The tree looked like it had survived many winters and was well past due to be fell in the summer. The squirrel continued up the branches which were creaking eerily already laden with snow on the branches. Then there was a sharp cracking crunch, and the tree began to fall.
At the last minute the squirrel jumped onto a nearby branch out of harms way. Yet you stood frozen. You just had time to duck and cover as the tree crashed down onto the path. It fell in a way that had managed to avoid hitting you but had pinned your coat under its heavy trunk. Your left boot was also pinned, and you bit a cold breath of air back in shock.
The snow continued falling, however it seemed almost menacing now. If you stayed out much longer into the evening the temperatures would continue to fall, and that beautiful snow might be the thing that kills you.
You cursed yourself from forgetting your phone, not that it would have a signal, but it would be better than nothing. They may have been able to track you at least.
The sun began to dip under the tree line and the temperature began to drop faster without the sun to provide warmth.
The snow was collecting on top of the tree making the chance of escape seem slimmer and slimmer.
The snow was beginning to build up either side of you now. Blocking you inside the wooden ribs of the tree. The branches caving around you with the snow beginning to form a roof and sides.
It was cold and it no longer felt like just your nose that was frozen. Your cheeks stung with the cold, and you wiggled your fingers and toes to try and warm them up as well. Frostbite was a very real thing and one you did not want to ever have experience in.
As the sun began to cruise lower and lower in the sky it continued to get colder. The light was starting to go now as well, a dusky overcast type of light was all that was left. If this continued on for much longer you worried, they may never find you until the snow thawed, by then it would be too late.
Back in the cabin the movie was almost over. Yelena and Kate had ended up beside each other again with popcorn in their hair after flicking it at each other for the whole duration of the movie. Nat had already seen the movie and headed to the kitchen to fetch four mugs of hot chocolate to share.
As she stepped into the kitchen which smelled like heaven and smiled at Wanda.
“Wheres Y/n? Surely, she’ll want hot chocolate as well.” Natasha smiled.
“I thought she was with you?” Wanda said looking up from where she had been seasoning chicken.
“No?” Nat said frowning. “She should be back from her walk by now.”
“Oh god.” Wanda paled slightly. “She’s not still out there, is she?”
“If she is we better find her fast before it gets too dark. Cold weather like this can kill.” Natasha said. “You send Yelena and Kate to check the bedrooms before joining us in the woods. I’m going to see if i can find her. Join me when you’re done.” Nat said already slipping on a coat with a sense of urgency to her movements.
Wanda nodded her assent and went to tell Yelena and Kate.
After a little bit all three girls were out searching the woods. Wanda was focusing on finding you with her mind, but you were either asleep or close too it which worried her greatly.
Finally, she sensed you under an old looking tree covered in snow. She called the others over and focused, using her magic to move the tree off you.
When your red jacket came into sight Natasha was the first to get to you. Scooping your cold and limp form into her arms. You were breathing but also freezing cold.
“We need to warm her up. NOW!” Nat said as she began sprinting to the cabin with you in her arms.
Your cheeks had long since turned from a rosy red colour to a dusky blue as the temperature had fallen further.
Once Natasha burst through the front door she headed for the bedroom you, her and Wanda had been sharing the past few nights.
Wanda, Kate and Yelena followed close behind, nobody commenting on the water that was being tracked through the cabin. Their focus elsewhere.
Natasha gently set you down on the bed, Wanda beside her and Kate and Yelena hovering in the doorway.
“Alright.” Nat said. “Wanda i need you to help me get her out of these wet clothes they’re doing more harm than good.” She said already starting to peel off your soaked coat. “Yelena, Kate.” She began and the two stood a little straighter. “Go and run a warm bath, not too warm but just enough to not be cold.” Nat said and the two turned tail and headed for the bathroom.
Wanda was now working on taking off your snow-pants while nat continued stripping off your top half. After a minute you were left laying in just your sports bra and boxers, long past shivering.
“Now what?” Wanda asked seeming panicked.
“Now we warm her up. It works best with skin-to-skin contact. So, we need to cuddle her. Bring that blanket and put it on top. Once Yelena is done with the bath, we will kick them out.” Nat said. Pulling off her shirt and taking off her track pants. She was now stood in bike pants and a sports bra much like what she wore to training in the gym.
Wanda was one step behind as she took off her shirt in a matching outfit to Natasha’s.
You, Wanda and Natasha had been together almost three years now, so it was nothing new. But still, nat had sent Yelena and Kate away just because.
Nat climbed onto the bed beside you and began pulling a sheet over you. Wanda slipped into the bed on your other side and cuddled up close. Sucking in a sharp breath when your frigid skin came into contact with her. You made a small noise of pain and curled into her front. Your face tucked into her chest. Natasha curled up behind you, tucking you between the two of them. Wanda had one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head to her chest. Natasha had her arms over you and on Wanda’s bare hip and back.
After a few minutes of quiet cuddling, and the sound of your short huffy breathes, you began to stir slightly. Your eye’s blinked open before you whined and screwed them shut again.
Wanda carded a hand through your hair and shone softly to you.
“There we go. Come on. Come back to us baby-girl. You’re doing so well for us my love.” She coaxed, her hands tangling in your wet locks.
After a second the sound of the tap shutting off was heard and Yelena’s footsteps came down the hall. She peaked in and smiled at Natasha looking so domestic but bit back a comment.
“Your bath is ready sestra.” Yelena said with her heavy accent hiding her amusement.
“Alright.” Nat said as she shifted Wanda’s arms around you tightened.
“Can i carry her this time?” Wanda asked sounding almost scared to let you go. As if you may disappear.
“Sure baby. But you’ll need to give her to me before you get into the bath with her.” Nat said and she glanced back at the door where Yelena had disappeared from before getting out from under the sheets.
The process of bathing you was simple enough. The flush had come back to your cheeks as Wanda held you in her lap in the bath while Natasha ran and warm cloth over every inch of your skin slowly warming you up. After they had been satisfied you were warm enough, they towelled you off as you start to come around again. They dressed you in Nat’s warm hoodie and Wanda’s red track pants.
Wanda had you in her arms when the three of you re-entered the kitchen slash lounge room.
Yelena grinned. Having set up a nest of sorts on the floor with a ton of blankets and pillows. Kate had five cups of hot chocolate on the bench and a movie queued up.
You buried your face into Wanda’s chest as the five of you got settled into the nest. Blankets were thrown over the five of you and you settled in for the movie.
Wanda’s dinner was still cooking and right now nobody wanted to leave you by yourself let alone out of their sight.
So, you curled up in your girlfriend’s laps and listened to their hearts beat with the soundtrack of parks and recreation playing in the background.
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ageofevermore · 10 months
Text
ITS BRIGHTER NOW
SUMMARY — until you met your girls, you once believed love would be burning red, but it turns out, it’s everything in between, and that couldn’t be more golden. i wanna be defined by the things that i love, not the things i hate, not the things that i’m afraid of, not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night, i just think that you are what you love
PROMPTS — “sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you” & “will you stay with me?”
WARNINGS — mentions of battle, injury, anxiety, overall just fluff and comfort for arguably the best avengers and their girlfriend
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Like every relationship, yours has its ups and downs. Although most times, you’re met with nothing but outstanding partners who try their absolute hardest to maintain open communication and boundaries, they’re still human, and Avengers, and while some consider that a fairytale circumstance, not many stop to think about how challenging it can be at its worst moments. Not many people, or any at all who aren’t in the lifestyle or one similar, think about how they’re gone for days at a time, sometimes weeks or months if it’s an undercover mission, and how when they finally do get back, they’re never the same as how they left. But honestly, how could they be? They’ve done things no average citizen would ever be expected to do, seen things and handled situations that are dangerous and traumatizing, and just like anyone else, those things haunt them. Wanda is better about unpacking those skeletons in her closet then Natasha is, but the both of them take things personally, and if things go south, it’s never good.
Both of your girlfriends had been gone from the compound for days. They’d been called out to an active Hydra base in Russia, and three days later, things had gone south and they’d been in active combat since. You didn’t talk to them much, with battles and timezones and everything else that got in your way, but you had heard through the grapevine that Wanda was pretty banged up and Natasha had been left with no choice but to shoot to kill after a particularly gruesome fight. Hearing that never got any easier, especially when they were halfway across the world and had no idea when they’d return. It was missions like these that made you yearn for a simpler life. One where Wanda was an artist, Natasha probably took up something flexible like tattooing, and you did literally anything else to just have some peace and quiet and promised safety.
You had met Natasha first, after Maria recruited you to join Shield. She had been skeptical of you, as she was of everyone, but you broke down her walls as easily as you’d picked the lock to Clint’s farm the one time you were placed on a strike mission together. She had been hurt pretty badly, and his farm was the closest place to land. That had been an interesting day, no thanks to your girlfriend who was draped across your arm with a shallow bullet wound and a startled Laura who was screeching about blood on her new couch. Things with Clint were still chaotic as ever, but he eventually got over you busting his brand new lock, and the two of you joked about it now, although now you had a key so no locks had to be busted in the event of an unplanned visit happening again. When you met Wanda, she fell into your dynamic easily, and at first, neither you nor Natasha had realized that you’d kind of adopted her as a third girlfriend until a drunken night when she ended up in your bed and never left. Now, sleeping without them is hard, but you’re forced to manage as best as you can, seeing as you don't really have much of a choice.
It was going onto the sixth night without them home when you finally retired from the couch, and decided to head to bed, figuring that at two in the morning there was no chance of them coming back until the next morning at the earliest. It was hard enough when one of them was on an active mission with no return date, but when both of them were gone, it truly felt like your heart was missing from your chest and you were just going through the motions and holding your breath until they got back. Most people only had one person to worry about, but having two people to lose, with jobs in this line of work, you felt like you were always looking over your shoulder and expecting the worst. As often as they could, your girlfriends declined missions together, even though they felt comfortable on the battlefield together and it was a comfort to not be alone, but neither one of them wanted to risk not coming home to you. They didn’t have a choice this time, so reluctantly they packed up their duffles and headed for the quinjet, with a kiss on your head and a promise that they would fight to come home to you, that they would try to make it back. There were still two mugs of tea on the countertop in the mini kitchen, and although it was disgusting and the tea had gone bad, you couldn’t bring yourself to clean them up. If that was the last thing they ever touched with you, when they were just Wanda and Natasha and not Avengers, you wanted the picture of mismatched mugs burned into your eyelids for the rest of your life. They deserved to be remembered as real, genuine, soft and stubborn, sometimes infuriating but lovable and loved people, not just heroes who had a cause when things went south.
You tossed and turned for probably an hour, groaning in annoyance for how empty your bed felt without them. How had you gotten so attached? That was the one thing you’d tried your hardest not to do when you got into this, and yet here you are, in Natasha’s t-shirt and Wanda’s panties, unable to sleep because the bed feels too cold and the walls feel too big and the room feels too empty and your heart feels misplaced. You’d heard somebody say love is golden once, not burning red, and you’d never understood that until a moment like this a few years ago, when Natasha left for the first time and you were utterly alone in the tower. They were golden, they were light, they were pouring rain in the middle of the day with the sun shining and not a cloud in sight, and they are the best moments of your life that you wish you could frame in a moving picture, because no, a picture can’t say a million words when it’s them. You need every word in the dictionary and then some. You will never be able to elaborate on how much you love them without falling short, and feeling like there's still so much you could’ve said. Everything felt so gray without them. It had to be after three in the morning when you finally fell asleep, probably closer to four, but you didn’t think about how long you’d been waiting up for them, just flopped onto your back and sprawled out like a starfish, and let sleep take over so you could have a few hours without consciously missing them. Missing them was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.
You’re pulled from your sleep by hushed voices and a door closing, convinced that the hinges are louder at inappropriate times just to spite you. You try to ignore it at first, finally in a comfortable position and getting some rest after a long day of running trials with Cho, but the noises persist despite your displeasure. A sound between a groan and a whine is extracted from your chest when something bumps into the bed, and any thought of going back to sleep leaves your mind. Unlike your girlfriends who can sleep through a natural disaster and fall asleep again if god forbid it wakes them up, once your eyes open you’re awake for the day, and it seems like this is where your day starts.
Although with blurred vision from the very few hours of sleep in your eyes, you’re able make out Wanda hunched over the bed, grasping at her side that is noticeably bloody, while Natasha is digging through the drawers to your left probably attempting to find a loose fitting top for Wanda to change into. All exhaustion leaves your body at the sight of them, and you spring up, rubbing your eyes with a wince as they burn in disagreement with your current state of consciousness. Wanda’s head snaps up, on high alert, but she forces her shoulders to relax when she realizes that it’s just you and not a threat.
“Sorry, we didn’t want to wake you.” She apologizes weakly, through clenched teeth and apparent sleepiness. You wonder when the last time they got a decent amount of rest, when they weren’t looking over their shoulders in paranoia or tossing and turning in pain from an injury that couldn’t be properly treated, but you force yourself to not dwell on it too much. You can’t change the past, and neither can they, all that matters is how they recover, and how they need you to help them heal from everything they were exposed to while in Russia. You’re the clean up, another factor that nobody considers while talking about how romantic and protected you must feel having two superheroes as partners. If anything, you feel more exposed. Like all eyes are on you and a monster is always lurking in the room over.
“No, no that’s okay. I only went to sleep a few hours ago, anyway. Here.” You know that the shirt Natasha is probably looking for is the one currently on your body, and you offer it to Wanda with no hesitation, already making a b-line for her when she just barely has the strength to reach for it herself. You pull the bloodied top over her head gently, thankful that the blood it’s soaked with is dry, and her wound is covered in gauze, meaning they’d probably stopped by the medbay before they made their way in here. “A little banged up, aren’t you?” You comment, although it's rhetorical and you know she won’t tell you how it happened just yet. That usually comes a few days after the mission, when the trauma isn’t so fresh and they’re not still on edge that something else is coming for them. You help her out of her pants as well, thanking Natasha when she hands you a fresh pair of undergarments to pull up Wanda’s legs before you even have to ask.
“We’re still in one piece.” Natasha promises, coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist. She’s tense all over, but she does her best to relax as she holds you, grounding herself in the moment and not the nightmares that have been going around in circles in her mind since getting on the quinjet to come home. “We missed you.” She kisses the skin beneath your ear, lingering for a few seconds before she untangles herself completely and gets ready for bed herself.
“That’s all that matters.” You reassure her, pecking Wanda’s lips gently, knowing she doesn’t have the energy or the strength to match any moment of passion right now. It’s not something that bothers you, maybe it used to, just the slightest bit, but it’s a routine you’re used to now. “I missed you too.”
“I told Steve we’re not taking any missions for a while. Especially not together.” Natasha hands you another one of her tops to slip into, and watches you throw Wanda’s bloodied one into the garbage beside your vanity. She won’t wear it again, not when it’s got so much history now, even if you could get the blood stain out. Again, it’s a routine you’ve found comfort in. The clothes they return home in almost always end up in the garbage, no time for working through PTSD that’s stitched into the fabric when you can just get something new to start fresh in.
“That’s good. I heard from Maria how tough this one was. I don’t know if I slept much the first few days.” You hate to worry them, or make them feel bad, but they hate when you’re not honest with them, and there’s nothing any of you can do about them being sent out on missions, so it’s not like you’re haroboring negative feelings toward them directly, which they understand, but your girlfriends do a great job of beating themselves up about certain things out of their control, this being one of them.
“Or at all. We still have cameras, you know.” Natasha muses, thoroughly amused when you turn a deep shade of crimson and kick Wanda’s discarded pants up toward her. Your other girlfriend, who has been noticeably quiet through the entire exchange, is curled up in bed, looking unbothered by the conversation but intent on finally getting some sleep in her own bed without the possibility of being blown to bits by the enemy.
“Spying on me, are you Romanoff?” You tease, shutting all the drawers Natasha left open and picking up all of her discarded clothes to throw them in the bin as well. She thanks you silently with her eyes that are practically bleeding with pain and adoration, but you don’t say anything. This is the least you can do for them right now.
“Gotta keep an eye on my girl.” Although it’s an easy statement, you know that it’s riddled with nothing but genuine anxiety. Both of your girlfriends are worrywarts when it comes to leaving you alone, for any amount of time but especially undetermined chunks like this mission, and although its heartwarming to be so cared for, it breaks your heart to know that they have valid reasons to be afraid. Another thing nobody even considers when they make comments toward your relationship. Wanda makes a huffing sound beside Natasha and both of your lips twitch in amusement, “On one of my girls, sorry, malysh.”
“You both should get some rest.” You comment, seeing that almost an hour has passed since they stumbled in. You won’t be able to fall asleep again, and even if you could, you’re apprehensive to crawl into bed with Wanda and accidentally hurt her more, so you have all intentions of wishing them a goodnight and going to finally clean up the mugs of tea that are resting on the counter.
“Where are you going?” Natasha wonders, watching you closely, like she’s scared that you’re going to fall apart right in front of her. You hate these moments, when they’re first getting back and they still feel like they’re stranded in a battlefield. It takes days to get back to some kind of normalcy without walking on eggshells, and by that time, they’re usually cleared to start training again and working their strength up for the next mission. One day, you just want to be done, but they’re not ready yet and that's okay.
“To clean up the tea mugs you left before you went. I didn’t have the heart to clean them up, in case…” You train off, but Natasha knows what you’re going to say and her face sinks even deeper.
“In case we didn’t come back.” She finishes your thought, hand rubbing Wanda’s back now that the woman is on her belly, seeking pressure against her wound that’s probably aching beneath the gauze. She shouldn’t be putting any pressure on it, but you’re not about to scold her right now. She needs to be comfortable, any torn stitches can easily be mended tomorrow morning when she’s well rested.
“Yeah.” You breathe out, releasing the tension that gathered in your shoulders at the simple thought of losing them. They’re okay this time, you can let go of all that pent up anxiety and dread for the time being. But it crosses your mind that there's always next time, and they might not get so lucky.
“Will you stay with me? Please?” Wanda asks, voice muffled by the pillow her face is pressed into, her arms beneath her head as she gives Natasha full access to her back, and the aching muscles that have probably been pulled a couple thousand times since leaving. Natasha works harder at releasing some of that tension, looking at you with broken eyes that you can’t say no too. Your worries are squandered when Wanda speaks again, lifting her head just enough to be able to see your face, peering into your eyes with a passion and seriousness that burns you inside. “You won’t hurt me, stop thinking that. I just want to hold my girl.”
“Ahem.” Natasha clears her throat, and Wanda lets the slightest smile pull her tired lips upward.
“One of my girls, sorry, detka.” She apologies before dropping her face back into the pillow, tightening her grip on it when Natasha hits a sore spot in her back. The redhead keeps at it, knowing how easily the Sokovian can pull her muscles when she’s lifting heavy things with just her tendrils.
“Are my thoughts that loud?” You ask meekly, abandoning your intention of straightening up the kitchen and instead coming closer to the end bed, still without pants and just Natasha’s shirt that hangs to your mid thigh.
Natasha stops rubbing Wanda’s back in order to grab at your thighs and pull you closer, rubbing the skin of your legs the same way she had been rubbing Wanda’s back. Though she’ll never admit it, you and Wanda have a sneaking suspicion her love language is physical touch, and that just maybe, physically feeling you both silences her anxieties over you just disappearing from her. Whatever her reason, neither of you protest, and admittedly crave her touch by the end of the night when you crawl into bed.
“Mhmm, I promise I’m okay. Doesn’t really hurt anymore, s’just sore.” She promised, sounding half asleep the longer she lays, adjusting her head so her neck is turned toward both you and Natasha, but her eyes are closed, a content smirk on her lips that only grows bigger when she hears you sigh your agreeance and then feels the bed dip with your weight as you climb into bed.
“Lay your ass down, or I’m gonna fall asleep sitting up.” Natasha scolds, playfully slapping your ass as you crawl over her and into the center of the bed, which is no longer warm from your body. You settle in between them, humming contently when Wanda loops an arm around your waist and then Natasha pulled you into her chest, your legs intertangling messily beneath the sheets.
“I missed this. I can’t sleep when you’re gone, everything feels so empty.” You admit, letting your eyes close even if you’re going to have a few hours of painful silence and stillness before you can even consider actually falling asleep.
Natasha presses her lips into your head and Wanda tightens her arm around your middle, neither saying anything, but not having to as their words and their presence says it all. Surprisingly, you fall asleep in minutes, and not a single one of you wakes up for the next ten hours, desperately needing the rest all together again.
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novafics · 8 months
Text
l Taken Pt 1 l
Wandanat x Reader
Warnings: Kidnapping/Torture/Talk of dying/angst
Summary: When [Y/N] is taken and tortured can Wanda and Natasha get her back?
Word Count: 740
Masterlist
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You don't know what happened, one minute you were successfully completing your mission and the next you were waking up with your head throbbing in a cold and dark cell with your wrists and ankles restrained keeping you glued to the floor.
You weren't alone on your mission, you were accompanied by your two girlfriends Wanda and Natasha, it was supposed to be a quick recon mission with you all splitting up and trying to find out everything you could. It was all going great, you had all found out so much useful information and were all on your way back to the jet.
 It felt like only a moment ago you could hear your girlfriends laughing and joking through the comms all counting down the seconds until you could all snuggle up in your shared bed soaking up all the love you all could get, however now you were here; cold, alone and hurting. Your once slow throbbing in your head had now turned into a loud banging feeling like your head was going to explode with all the pain coursing through it. Your captors had also been very vicious with your restraints, the heavy metal slowly but surely piercing through the flesh of your wrists and ankles with the blood from them slowly accumulating underneath you.
It wasn't long before you could hear your captors approaching your cell, the heavy metal door swinging open with a loud bang as they entered. You realised as they approached that they were hydra soldiers, the exact ones that you were getting recon on and by the looks on their faces they were going to enjoy whatever they had in store for you.
At your comms abruptly cutting off both Wanda and Natasha were sent into a worried frenzy, no longer were they thinking about getting home, they were now only focused on one thing and that was getting you back. 
“Oh my god Wanda there's so much blood” when hearing Natashas fearful voice she had managed to catch up and catch a glimpse of what Nat had been looking at, a pool of blood, your blood, lying on the floor where you had been taken. “Hey, hey look at me, we're going to get her back!” with this statement she pulled Nat into her arms before they both set off following the steady trail of blood leading them to where you are.
Slowly but surely you were losing hope, it's not that you didn't have faith that Wanda and Natasha would find you, you were just unsure of how long you could hold on. You had lost count of how many hours you had been tortured for. It felt like every second you were being hurt in some way, you had been beaten, burned, cut and had just been stabbed in the thigh. Knowing that you were losing blood and fast should have been enough for you to jump into action and to try and hold as much pressure as you could to stop the bleeding however you were so tired. You were no longer fighting or screaming or doing anything, you simply were lying on the cold concrete floor. Your body was freezing, exhausted and was crying out for sleep. You knew you should stay awake but it was becoming so hard, all you wanted was your girls.
As you were drifting in and out of consciousness you could faintly hear a commotion in the hall, there was screaming and fighting and your only hope was for Wanda and Natasha to walk through the door. Luckily for you your hopes came true as only moments later the door was thrown open and your girls were standing in front of you.
Not long after the door had been open and your injured form came into view your restraints were released and your body was scooped up into the arms of Natasha. “Oh baby, we're here now, we're so sorry” As you looked up you could see tears in her eyes. “Just stay awake for us sweetheart, we're gonna get you out of here” Hearing this you slowly turned your head and caught sight of Wanda who was slowly stroking your bloodied hair out of your face. 
In this moment you couldn't bring yourself to feel any fear anymore, your girls were here and you could only think of saying one thing as your consciousness slowly faded out, “I love you guys”.
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romanoffsbish · 4 months
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Silent Night
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R
Natasha gives you the worst news possible, you are stuck with her on Christmas Eve when you had made plans with another… (Blurb / WC: 1k)
Warnings: Hurt / Comfort | Grief / Loss | Hopeful Ending
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Natasha stood there frozen, her body near perfect in stature to the naked eye, but to any other spy they'd notice the slump in her stance. She was crestfallen in sync with you as you stumbled back and shook your head from side to side, negating her command.
——
"No!" Natasha leapt forward then, her arm quick to wrap around your waist, hand firmly gripping you by the hip as her other covered your trembling lips. The look of genuine grief and budding betrayal in your eyes was like a sword through the assassin's heart but she remained steadfast as she grunted, "stay quiet agent."
For a moment you were stunned into silence, it wasn't like the redhead treated you differently, but you had hoped she would. That she'd let the heartless facade go and help you to escape this nightmare. You needed to get home, which right now was a sterile white room in a rundown hospital because the salary of a shield agent still wasn't enough to save the woman you needed.
A girl never stops needing the love of her mother.
Natasha understood you, she knew the pain behind your eyes well, you were losing something important.
She knew what you were saying; you couldn't stay in this run down cabin with her until the coast was clear. Fury's orders were of no significance to you when you had a very important person waiting on you back home, which was currently thousands of miles away. Tony needed to send a rescue jet now, it didn't matter if lives were lost, you wouldn't really mind if it were your own and that terrified the stoic woman.
The words never left your lips but she could see it in your eyes that you wanted out. Of the cabin, yes, but also of this life you were mindlessly walking through.
Natasha knew something had changed for you about six months ago, you'd stopped smiling at her then. It was such a simple gesture on your end, persistent too as she never returned it, always just walked right by.
Natasha was trying to keep her distance from you as she worried your spark would be dulled by her pain.
There was so much she'd yet to process and she was not willing to take you down her path of darkness. The loss of your smile was actually what forced her into the darkness and ultimately what got her through it. She would picture it in her worst moments and find peace.
A solace she so desperately wanted to be for you, deep down she knew you'd need someone to hold you and she refused to let anyone else take this spot, it was hers. The protectiveness didn't fade but her resolve softened as she felt your tears beneath her fingers.
"Natasha, I have to go," you cried as her hand slipped and you attempted to shove her away. "I know..." Yet her hold didn't falter, it only tightened, "but you can't."
"Please," you cried, fists pummeled into her chest but she didn't falter. Her lips were gently raised and your eyes froze on the gesture you had always wanted from her. You were wrong for hitting her but she merely offered you reassurance; the permission to continue.
It broke you from your rage and set free the truth as you fell into her hold instead and the redhead was quick to lower your bodies. You wailed just the same as you did when your mother gave birth to you, giving you the life she'd lose tonight; on the eve of Christmas.
Twas her favorite holiday, it carried a nostalgia from her childhood that she sprinkled into yours. The best parts of course, she was that for you, if you could you'd sacrifice decades of yours for just another with her.
Life and death are intimately bonded, woven together as opposites because it can't be forgotten that what has a start must also come to an end; a cruel twisted fate.
The hopeful would call it a miracle, but you were more akin to a realist. It was easy to see that both sides offered truth, the reality lied beneath the romanticism.
There was good and bad in everyone's story, you felt it in the air as your mother's words presented falsely. The ding of your phone was unnecessary, just like the '🕊️' your sister had texted you. You felt the tether snap.
Your mother told you she wouldn't leave until she knew you were alright, which was not exactly rooted in the present moment but rather the foreshadowed fate.
The ghost pressure of a pair of lips was pressed against your forehead, and you whined in your sob induced sleep, Natasha lent down and kissed your skin in hopes that it would soothe your broken heart, even just a bit.
A smile adorned her face when you nuzzled further into her embrace, she pulled a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around your bodies. It didn't bother her that her night would be spent on the floor, with her back up against the edge of the couch, it wasn't ideal for sleeping but she didn't plan on doing that anyways.
The only plans she had were to sip on her tea and watch the rise and fall of your chest, "I've got you..."
Natasha didn't believe in much, the woman has stood up against aliens but she still dismissed the fables of  ghosts, werewolves and vampires (she was team Alice).
The redhead was trained to believe what she sees, and it wasn't until tonight that she could cross out another.
A gust of wind blew over the both of you shortly after the woman had confirmed her desires to be with you. Three simple words that carried a deeper message. A smirk overtook the redheads face as she felt a warmth she'd never felt before, there was no other explanation.
"It's nice to meet you Miss Y/L/N; she's safe here."
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natsarrownecklacx · 1 year
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My Sweet Girl
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count- 1,452
Summary- Your having a rough time but Natasha’s there to hold you and help you feel better.
Basted on a request
Warnings- Hurt/ Comfort, allusion to suicidal thoughts, Reader has bipolar, description of depressive episode( unedited writing )
⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗
“Do you ever think about what life would be like if we had never met?”
The words catch you off guard even as they leave your mouth. You hadn’t intended to say them out loud, despite the constant loop of the 15 words over and over in your head for the better half of an hour.
You supposed that, after hearing them on repeat for so long, you kinda just get numb to them, giving them the opportunity to slip from your lips.
Natasha removes her eyes from her laptop and lets them drift towards you. From her position on the couch across from you you can see the clear confusion written on her face. She tilts her head slightly to the side, a very on brand Natasha way to signal you to elaborate.
“Because I do.” You admit hesitantly, causing Natasha’s look of confusion to grow. “I think about it all the time. About what life would be like if I had never met you. In fact, lately, I find myself thinking about it more and more.”
Worry begins to grow on Natasha’s face, she knows where you are going with this, but it doesn’t make it any earlier to actually hear you say these things out loud. “Dekta…” She says, her voice barely above a whisper.
Slowly, she lifts her hand from the keyboard and closes the laptop. She doesn’t take her eyes off of you as she does so, doesn’t save what she’d previously been working on, doesn’t pay any mind to the ‘clunk’ noise the device makes as she drops it to the floor. She simply moves it out of her way, eager to give you her full attention.
“I don’t think I’d be who I am today without you.” You say, fighting with yourself over if you should say your next words or not. But inevitably, you do, despite how scary it is to say them out loud. “I don’t think I’d even be alive today if it weren’t for you.”
A single tear slides down your cheek as you utter the words. Its presence makes something uncomfortable shift in Natasha’s chest.
She hasn’t let the full weight of your words rest on her yet. She doesn’t want to think about what would happen if you gave in one day, gave up fighting and let the darkness take you. What she would do without you in her life to love and to be loved by.
“And I think you’d be a lot happier. Your life would be so much easier.” You say, giving life to the thoughts that have been on your mind the last few days, causes something to settle on your chest.
Something big and heavy. Something scary. Something painfully familiar. Clawing away at the inside of your chest as though it has a right to be there, as though you are the intruder in your own body and this dark heavy feeling wants you out. Wants your body all to itself.
You don’t want to let it take you, don’t want to think about what you might do if you let it, but damn it you're so tired. Maybe too tired to fight it this time.
The realization causes more tears to fall from your eyes. As if your body wants to make room for the darkness to make its home inside you.
Natasha jumps from her place on the couch, making quick work of covering the distance between you. She takes you in her arms, one hand on your back pulling you into her and the other on the back of your head, holding you against her chest as you cry.
Natasha gently rocks you both side to side, her head tucked against the top of yours, mumbling soothing words against your hair.
“Shh, Detka. Shh it’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere I promise.” She whispers, hoping that at least some part of her words get through to you, that the darkness will let you believe her.
You choke back a sob at Natashas words, your hold on her tightening, afraid you might let her go.
You could have let her go, if you hadn’t told her how you’ve been feeling, if you hadn’t taken that scary first step. You mightn’t ever have held her in your arms again, never felt her warmth or love again.
The thought is terrifying, so much so that you begin to shake.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You sob into her chest, pulling, holding her tighter, trying to bury yourself in her chest, to disappear.
Natasha swears she can feel her head break inside her chest. She’s never loved another person the way she loves you, so purely and wholeheartedly to the point that her love for you consumes her.
She hates seeing you go through this, the constant ups and downs with little to no way of predicting how bad it will get or how long it will go on for.
“Shh, sweetheart, it's okay. It’s okay. You're here, you're safe, you're with me. I have you.”
Natasha continues to mumble words of reassurance to you, rocking you both back and forth gently until your cries have subsided. You both sit in silence for a minute, Natasha running her hand through your hair and up and down your back while you listen to hear heartbeat.
“I’m sorry I’m like this.” You say after a while, your hand resting flat against her chest, next to your head, feeling her heartbeat under your palm.
You feel Natasha shaking her head above you, but the tears landing in your hair go unnoticed by you. “No, sweetheart. You don’t need to apologize. I know this isn’t easy for you. I might not fully understand how hard it is for you but I see it, Detka.”
A tear slips down your face at Natasha’s words. But this time it’s not a tear of sadness or pain, it’s a tear of relief. She understands, she’s patient, she cares.
“But I’m so proud of you for trying, Detka. I’m so proud of you and the way you keep moving, even though I know you don’t want to.”
She’s seen it all, the ups and downs, the hyper almost manic optimism, the painful, draining depressive episodes. And she still loves you, she’s still here, holding you as though you're the most important thing to her. And you are.
“And I am so so grateful for you, my sweet girl. I’m so grateful that you continue to be brave and come to me when you need to, that you tell me when you need help, and that you’re still with me.”
You know what she means by that last line. She knows you’d never leave her, you love her far too much for that. But you don’t always feel strong enough to stay. Sometimes going away seems like the best option for everyone. In those moments, Natasha’s always there to remind you of otherwise, to remember you how loved you are.
This helps, being in her arms like this. On days when you can’t even move, on days when the smallest tasks feel too big for you, Natasha helps. Sometimes just being around her helps. It’s one of the many reasons why you love her.
“I love you Natasha. So much, and I am so so grateful for you too.” You say quietly, looking up at her.
You’d like to promise her you’ll stay. That you’ll be strong for her, that your love for her will be enough to keep you moving on even your worst days. But you know better than to make a promise like that. So you don’t.
“I’ll love you forever and always.” You say instead, meaning each word with your whole heart.
“I love you too, my sweet girl.” Natasha says, smiling down at you. “Forever and always.”
And that’s enough. For Natasha, it's enough that you love her and she loves you. It’s enough that she gets to hold you like this right now, feel the weight of your body on hers, feel your heartbeat and hear each inhale of breath you take.
Natasha knows you can’t promise her forever, she would never ask that of you. But you're doing as she asked, you're coming to her when you need her. And Natasha counts her blessings each day that you do. That you trust her enough to come to her.
She just needs to trust that you’ll continue to do that. That you’ll let her help, let her love you. Trust isn’t something that she gives lightly, but you have hers. Unequivocally.
A trust that she did not misplace. One that you honored and treasured. Every day.
⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗<3 ⧗
A/n- don’t forget to try drink some water and have a snack today plssssss
179 notes · View notes
ellieromanov · 5 months
Text
I loved you too.
Pairings: Natasha x R
Warnings: angst, breakup
Words:600
This is very different from what I normally write but it's very angsty so I thought I'd share. This is just a text conversation inspired by the "peeled orange" story on TikTok.
2020
Me:
Hi.
Natasha:
Hi.
Me:
How are you, Natasha?
Natasha:
I'm good. Surprised. I wasn't expecting to hear from you again.
Me:
Sorry.
Natasha:
Don't be.
How are you? Are you okay?
Me:
Trying to be.
Natasha:
I'm sorry.
Me:
Why?
Natasha:
You're trying to be, but you aren't. I'm sorry.
Me:
That's okay.
Natasha:
Was there a particular reason you reached out?
Me:
Yeah actually.
I just wanted to tell you that I got the job.
I'm moving to Berlin next month.
Natasha:
That's incredible Y/n! I'm proud of you
Me:
Thank you. I don't think I would have been able to do it without you.
Natasha:
I doubt that's true. You have talent.
Me:
thanks.
Natasha:
your welcome.
Me:
I still wouldn't have been able to do it without you.
Do you remember when I first got the call for the job?
Natasha:
Yeah I do. We were in the living room watching Elf.
Me:
And I nearly didn't answer the phone because I didn't recognize the number.
You were the one to tell me to answer it anyways.
Natasha:
That's true.
You cried so hard afterwards.
Me:
I did.
Natasha:
I don't think I ever ended up seeing the ending of that movie.
Me:
Sorry.
Natasha:
That's okay. I'll watch it again.
Me:
Natasha?
Natasha:
Yeah?
Me:
How's Yelena?
Natasha:
She's okay.  She misses you around here.
Me:
I miss her too.
Natasha:
I think we all miss you.
Me:
Yeah.. I miss everyone too.
Natasha:
Yeah.
Me:
I miss being cared for.
Natasha:
You are cared for.
Me:
By who?
Natasha:
By your family, by the team, by friends.
Me:
But no by you.
Natasha:
That's not true.
I care for you very much. I love you Y/n, im just not in love with you anymore.
Me:
Oh..
I still care for you too.
Natasha:
I know.
Me:
Do you think I'll be loved again?
Natasha:
Of course you will be Y/n. You're young you have so much time to be loved. I promise.
Me:
When you left everything changed so much.
Natasha:
How so?
Me:
A lot happened with the family.
Inge died.
Im sorry i didn't tell you sooner.
I've been struggling with that a lot.
Natasha:
Im so sorry Y/n
Me:
Me too.
Natasha:
I wish I had been there for you. Im so sorry I wasn't.
Me:
It's okay
I've also learned that I have very little control so the things i don't have control over I can't worry about it. I can only worry about the things a do have control of.
Natasha:
That's very true
Me:
For such a long time I thought it wasn't real.
Natasha:
What wasn't real?
Me:
Us. Love. I don't know.
Natasha:
It was real Y/n. And love still is. I know because you are full of it.
I also think kindness is real because you are kind. Good people exist, and one day one of those good people will love you for all of your worth, remember that Y/n.
Me:
You're still always understanding
Natasha:
I try to be.
Me:
Thank you for responding Natasha.
Natasha:
You're welcome.
But Y/n you can't text me again. It'll only hurt.
Me:
Okay...
I love you Natasha.
Natasha:
I loved you too
———
2021
Me:
I miss you
———
2021
Me:
I saw you on the news today, you look different, good. But different.
———
2022
Me:
I know you said to stop messaging you. I’m trying.
———
2022
*missed call*
*missed call*
Me:
I really loved you.
I Hope you find happiness.
I know you’ll do great things.
But It’s time for me to let you go Natasha.
I can’t keep doing this to myself
I have to let you go.
———
2023
Natasha:
I miss you so much.
I wish I still had you.
I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most.
I love you.
I’m so sorry if you ever doubted that.
———
165 notes · View notes
midastouch013 · 15 days
Text
"Find Me Attractive Again"
Tumblr media
Based on this request
Summary: You had a wonderful girlfriend, and so what happens when you discover she has an eating disorder
Warnings: Eating disorder, Hurt Nat, Sad Nat, Neglecting Y/n. Panic Attacks. Purging, throwing up. Major hurt/comfort, from both sides.
P.S I wasn't really satisfied with the ending, so I apologise. I also took my own spin on it since it was kind vague, so I hope you like it'.
P.S.S And also, after such heavy fics, I'd really like for someone to drop me a fluffy one, Not just Nat, any Marvel woman please.
-----------
It was a typical summer day in New York City when your paths first crossed. You, wrapped up in the chaos of your medical residency, were rushing through the streets, white coat flapping behind you like a superhero’s cape, while Natasha Romanoff, the infamous Black Widow, was navigating the crowds with the ease of someone who had seen it all.
It was at a street corner where fate decided to intervene, in the form of an iced coffee and a collision. Natasha, in her sleek elegance, accidentally bumped into you, sending her cold drink cascading down your front.
“Shit, I’m so sorry!” Her voice was a mix of genuine contrition and a hint of amusement.
You blinked, the cold seeping through your shirt, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation. “Well, at least it’s a hot day,” you replied, trying to brush off the mess.
Natasha quickly handed you some napkins, her green eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're a humour one I see"
"That I am" you grinned "I've also cost you your coffee"
Natasha went to open her mouth, but you spoke instead.
“Let me make it up to you. Can I buy you another drink?”
"But I'm the one who spilt mine on you?" her eyebrow raised as she questioned.
"And?"
"I should be the one buying for you?"
You're smile didn't falter " Where's the chivalry in that?"
And that was the start of it all. What began as a clumsy encounter turned into a friendship neither of you expected. Natasha’s charm, mixed with her trademark snark, drew you in like a moth to a flame. Soon, the two of you were spending your precious free time together, swapping stories over drinks or taking long walks through the city.
Despite her guarded nature, Natasha opened up to you in ways she hadn’t with anyone else. You became her confidante, her sanctuary in a world filled with chaos and danger. And in turn, you found solace in her presence, a respite from the relentless demands of your residency.
As your friendship deepened, so did your feelings for her. You found yourself falling for the enigmatic Avenger, captivated by her strength, her wit, and the vulnerability she only showed to you. And one day, gathering every ounce of courage you had, you asked her out on a date.
To your delight, Natasha said yes, her smile lighting up the room in a way you had never seen before. And just like that, your friendship blossomed into something more, a new chapter in both of your lives.
Now, as you walked hand in hand through the bustling streets of New York, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. With Natasha by your side, you felt invincible, ready to take on whatever challenges life threw your way.
Little did you know, however, that behind the redhead’s confident facade lay a secret she was desperate to keep hidden. An invisible battle she fought every day, one that threatened to consume her from within.
And so, all it would take for you to find out, as a plate of untouched food, and certain other stuff
---
The elevator door opened with a ding, admitting you into the familiar warmth of your shared home (Floor in the compound that Tony had so happily given) with Natasha. The faint scent of breakfast lingered in the air, a reminder of the meal you had meticulously prepared before your short 12-hour shift at the hospital.
But as you stepped further into the living space, your brow furrowed in confusion. The plate of food you had set out for Natasha sat untouched on the dining table, a solitary fork resting against the edge.
"Nat?" you called out, your voice echoing in the quiet apartment. There was no response, just the eerie stillness of an empty room.
Concern gnawed at the edges of your mind as you ventured further into the living space, scanning every corner for any sign of your elusive girlfriend. But Natasha was nowhere to be found.
However, before you could think what to do next, the sound of retching echoed through the apartment, sending a shiver of dread down your spine. Without a moment's hesitation, you bolted towards the bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest.
As you flung open the door, the sight that greeted you was enough to make your stomach churn. There stood Natasha, hunched over the toilet, her face contorted in agony as she forced herself to purge.
Instinct took over as you rushed to her side, your hands reaching out to grasp hers and pull them away from her mouth. "Nat, stop," you urged, your voice laced with urgency and concern.
For a moment, she resisted, the muscles in her arm tense with the effort of her struggle. But slowly, reluctantly, she relented, allowing you to pry her fingers away from their self-destructive task.
The sight of her trembling form, tears glistening in her eyes, tore at your heartstrings like nothing else. You wanted to wrap her in your arms, to shield her from the demons that haunted her, but you knew that this was a battle she had to fight on her own terms.
Gently, you guided her away from the toilet, leading her to the sink where you wet a washcloth and pressed it against her clammy forehead. "It's okay, Nat," you murmured, your voice a soothing balm against the turmoil raging within her.
As you helped Natasha up from the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, her silence weighed heavily in the air, a palpable barrier between you. You guided her to the bed, her movements sluggish and unsteady, and gently urged her to sit down while you prepared a bath.
With practiced efficiency, you filled the tub with warm water, adding a few drops of lavender oil to help soothe her frazzled nerves. But as you turned to help Natasha undress, you noticed the way she recoiled from your touch, her body tensing at the slightest contact.
Your heart ached at the sight, a pang of sadness settling in the pit of your stomach. You had always prided yourself on being there for Natasha, on offering her the unwavering support and love she so desperately needed. But now, faced with her silent withdrawal, you felt utterly helpless, like a bystander watching helplessly as a storm raged on the horizon.
With a heavy sigh, you stepped back, giving Natasha the space she seemed to need. You watched in silence as she rose from the bed, her movements slow and deliberate, before making her way to the bathroom.
It was only then that you noticed the small click of the lock as she closed the door behind her, a barrier sealing her off from the outside world. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, a stark reminder of the walls Natasha had built around herself, walls that even you, with all your love and devotion, could not penetrate.
For a moment, you stood there in the empty room, the weight of Natasha's silence bearing down on you like a leaden cloak. But then, with a resolute shake of your head, you pushed aside your own doubts and fears, determined to stand by her side no matter what.
Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and made your way to the bathroom door, your hand poised to knock. But at the last moment, you hesitated, the sound of running water and Natasha's soft sobs echoing through the wood.
But when the sound of retching pierced through the closed bathroom door, a surge of panic shot through you like a bolt of lightning. Without a second thought, you abandoned your plans to change and rushed back to the bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest.
With a swift motion, you twisted the doorknob, but to your dismay, it refused to budge. Locked. The realization sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through your veins, igniting a primal instinct to protect Natasha at all costs.
"Nat, open the door!" you called out, your voice tinged with desperation. But there was no response, just the sickening sound of her struggle echoing through the small space.
With a burst of adrenaline-fueled determination, you threw your weight against the door, the wood groaning in protest as it gave way beneath your force. For a moment, everything seemed to blur together in a haze of motion and sound, until finally, the door swung open with a resounding crash.
And there she was, hunched over the toilet once more, her body wracked with violent spasms as she forced herself to purge. Without hesitation, you rushed to her side, your hands reaching out to grasp hers and pull them away from their self-destructive task.
"Nat, please stop," you pleaded, your voice cracking with emotion. But this time, there was no resistance, no struggle against your touch. Instead, Natasha collapsed against you, her tears mingling with the cool touch of your skin.
With a sense of resolve, you refused to leave Natasha alone in the bathroom this time. Instead, you stayed by her side, offering silent support as she struggled with the demons that haunted her.
As the water continued to run, filling the tub with warm, comforting steam, you gently guided Natasha towards it. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes cast downwards, before finally sinking into the water with a heavy sigh.
You stood by the tub, your presence a silent reassurance as Natasha submerged herself beneath the surface, her shoulders tense with the weight of her burdens. With a soft exhale, you reached for the shampoo, pouring a small amount into your palm before lathering it into her hair with gentle, soothing strokes.
"I won't look," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I promise."
Natasha remained silent, her gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the confines of the bathroom. But you could sense the tension in her body, the invisible barriers she had erected to keep you at arm's length.
Undeterred, you continued to wash her hair, your fingers working through the tangles with practiced precision. With each stroke, you hoped to chip away at the walls she had built around herself, to offer her a glimpse of the love and acceptance that lay waiting on the other side.
But despite your best efforts, Natasha remained distant, her silence a heavy weight in the air between you. It was as if she had retreated into herself, lost in the labyrinth of her own thoughts and fears.
With a heavy heart, you finished washing her hair, rinsing away the suds with gentle care. Then, reaching for the washcloth, you began to bathe her body, moving with slow, deliberate motions as you washed away the stains of the outside world.
Gently, you lifted Natasha from the bathtub, her body feeling almost weightless in your arms. The sight of her frail form, bones protruding beneath the thin veil of her skin, sent a shiver of concern down your spine. It was a stark reminder of the toll her eating disorder had taken on her body, a silent battle she fought day in and day out.
With tender care, you carried her back to the bed, laying her down with the utmost gentleness. You tucked the blankets around her, the soft fabric a comforting cocoon against the cold reality of her struggles.
As Natasha lay there, her eyes distant and unfocused, you made your way to the kitchen, your mind racing with thoughts of how to help her. You knew that she needed nourishment, both for her body and her soul, but convincing her to eat was a battle in itself.
With a determined resolve, you rummaged through the pantry, searching for something light and easy to stomach. Finally, you settled on a plate of sliced fruit, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the darkness that threatened to consume Natasha from within.
Returning to the bedroom, you found Natasha still lying there, her gaze fixed on some invisible point in the distance. Carefully, you placed the plate of fruit on the bedside table, hoping that the sight of it would stir something within her.
"Nat," you said softly, your voice a gentle reminder of your presence. "I brought you a snack. It's just some fruit. Would you like some?"
For a moment, there was no response, just the steady rise and fall of Natasha's chest as she breathed in and out. But then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, she reached out a trembling hand, fingers curling around a slice of apple.
You held your breath, watching intently as Natasha brought the fruit to her lips, her movements hesitant and uncertain. But then, with a small nod of encouragement from you, she took a tentative bite, the sweetness of the apple filling the air between you.
A sense of relief washed over you as you watched Natasha eat, each bite a small victory in the battle against her eating disorder.
As Natasha slowly nibbled on the fruit, you settled beside her on the bed, the familiar weight of her body a comforting anchor in the storm of uncertainty. With a soft click of the remote, you turned on the television, the familiar theme song of F.R.I.E.N.D.S filling the room with its nostalgic melody.
You glanced over at Natasha, her gaze fixed on the screen, her lips curved ever so slightly in the beginnings of a smile. It was a small victory, a glimmer of light in the darkness that threatened to consume her.
With a tender smile of your own, you wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against your side. The warmth of her body pressed against yours, the steady rhythm of her breath a soothing lullaby in the quiet of the night.
Together, you watched as the familiar antics of Ross, Rachel, Monica, Chandler, Joey, and Phoebe unfolded on the screen before you. The laughter of the characters, the camaraderie of their friendships, served as a reminder of the bonds that held you and Natasha together, even in the darkest of times.
And as the episode came to an end, you turned to Natasha, the ghost of a smile still lingering on her lips. "Feeling a little better?" you asked softly, your voice a gentle caress against the silence of the room.
Natasha hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. But then, with a small nod of her head, she leaned into your embrace, her body relaxing against yours.
It was a small victory, a flicker of hope in the midst of despair. But for now, in this moment of quiet intimacy, it was enough. Together, you would face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm that came your way. As you snuggled into Natasha, the fragile contours of her body pressed against yours, you couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you. With each delicate curve of her form, you could feel the sharp edges of her bones, a painful reminder of the toll her eating disorder had taken on her.
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you held her close, the weight of her fragility pressing down on you like a leaden weight. "Why, Nat?" you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "Why do you do this to yourself?"
For a moment, there was only silence, the weight of Natasha's unspoken pain hanging heavy in the air between you. But then, as your grip tightened around her, almost as if you were clinging to her for dear life, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I..." she began, her words faltering as if caught in the tangled web of her thoughts. But then, with a small shake of her head, she fell silent once more, the words hanging between you like an unspoken promise.
--
As you thought Natasha had drifted off to sleep, you reached for your phone, the glow of the screen illuminating the dimly lit room. With a deep breath, you dialed the number for the hospital, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to make a decision that would change everything.
"Hello, this is Dr. Y/l/n," you began, your voice steady despite the nerves that churned in the pit of your stomach. "I need to take the next month off."
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, followed by the sound of a hesitant voice. "Dr. Y/l/n, are you sure? We're short-staffed as it is, and your patients—"
"I'm sure," you interrupted, your tone firm and unwavering. "I've already made up my mind."
The person on the other end of the line hesitated, clearly taken aback by your sudden decision. "But Dr. Y/l/n you're one of our top surgeons. We can't afford to lose you—"
"I understand that," you replied, your voice tinged with frustration. "But right now, I need to take care of someone who needs me more than anyone else."
There was a moment of silence as the gravity of your words hung heavy in the air between you. And then, with a resigned sigh, the person on the other end of the line relented, agreeing to grant you the time off on the condition that you'd go unpaid for the month.
As you ended the call, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. You knew that taking time off from the hospital was a risk, but in that moment, the only thing that mattered was being there for Natasha when she needed you most.
But as you turned to check on her, you realized that she had been awake the whole time, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Natasha's voice cut through the silence of the room, her words heavy with emotion. "Why did you do that?" she asked, her eyes searching yours for answers.
You met her gaze, the weight of her question hanging heavy in the air between you. Taking a deep breath, you reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, your fingers lingering against her cheek.
"Because you needed me," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Because I love you, Natasha, and I would do anything for you."
Tears welled in Natasha's eyes as she listened to your words, her expression a mix of gratitude and disbelief. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. "For everything."
As Natasha's words hung in the air, a heavy silence settled between you, punctuated only by the soft hum of the room's ventilation system. You could see the turmoil swirling behind her eyes, the weight of her burdens threatening to crush her beneath their weight.
"Why did you do that, Natasha?" you asked gently, your voice laced with concern. "Why do you hurt yourself like this?"
Natasha hesitated for a moment, her gaze drifting away from yours as she searched for the words to explain the unexplainable. "It's… it's complicated," she began, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Try me," you urged, your tone soft and understanding. "I want to understand, Natasha. I want to help you."
With a heavy sigh, Natasha began to speak, her words halting and uncertain at first, but gaining strength with each passing moment. "It's not just me," she confessed, her voice trembling with emotion. "It's… it's the comments, the stares, the whispers behind my back."
Your heart ached as you listened to her words, the pain and anguish etched into every syllable. You knew all too well the harsh realities of the world Natasha inhabited, the constant scrutiny and judgment that followed her wherever she went.
"It's like… like I'm never good enough," Natasha continued, her voice cracking with emotion. "No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I achieve, it's never enough. And the news, they… they only make it worse."
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you watched Natasha unravel before you, the weight of her suffering a burden too heavy for her to bear alone. In that moment, you felt a surge of anger rise up within you, a burning indignation at the injustices Natasha had endured.
"And..." She trailed off
"And?" You pulled her into your arms, holding her close as if to show that you were there for her. You could feel the ache in her voice, the raw vulnerability laid bare before you.
"I just... You," Natasha began, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "You used to look at me with such... such longing. You'd initiate everything, your touch, your kisses... But lately, it's like you don't even see me anymore."
Your heart clenched at her words, unsure of what to do or say.
"I thought... I thought maybe it was because of how I looked," Natasha continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought if I worked out more, if I stopped eating, if I... if I purged, maybe you'd find me attractive again."
Your breath caught in your throat at her confession, the pain of her self-inflicted suffering tearing at your heartstrings. How could she think such a thing? How could she believe that her worth was tied to her appearance?
But you remained silent, allowing Natasha to speak, to purge the demons that haunted her soul. For in that moment, you realized that the only way to help her heal was to listen, to truly listen, without judgment or condemnation.
"I just wanted to be enough for you," Natasha whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. "But I was so wrong, wasn't I? I was so wrong."
And as she buried her face in her hands, her words seemed to sink in, making you feel like the ground beneath you is crumbling away, leaving you adrift in a sea of guilt and self-loathing.
Your hands trembled as you pushed yourself away from Natasha, the weight of her words crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You stumbled backward, your eyes wide with shock as you realized the role you had played in her pain.
"Oh my god," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of your own ragged breaths. " I did that"
Natasha's eyes widened in concern as she watched you retreat, her voice tinged with fear. "Y/n? Are you okay?"
But you couldn't answer, couldn't bring yourself to face her, not when the guilt threatened to suffocate you. You hated yourself in that moment, hated the way you had let work consume you, the way you had neglected the person you loved most in the world.
And then it hit you, a wave of overwhelming emotion crashing over you like a tsunami. You sank to the floor, your body racked with sobs as the weight of your own self-loathing bore down on you like a heavy burden.
Natasha's voice was a distant echo in the darkness, her words lost amidst the chaos of your own thoughts. But you could feel her presence beside you, her hand reaching out to touch your shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort and support.
But you couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the thought of her touching you, not when you were the reason she was in pain. So you pushed her away, stumbling to your feet and retreating further into the shadows.
"I'm sorry," you choked out, your voice barely audible above the storm of your own despair. "I'm so sorry, Natasha. I didn't mean to… I didn't know…"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the words tumbled from your lips in a frantic mantra, each repetition a desperate plea for forgiveness. But the only one you blamed was yourself, your own self-loathing swallowing you whole.
Natasha's voice was a distant echo in the chaos of your mind, her words lost in the tumult of your own despair. But you could feel her presence beside you, a steady anchor in the storm.
But even as she reached out to comfort you, you recoiled from her touch, the weight of your guilt too heavy to bear. You felt betrayed by yourself, , the person who had allowed this to happen.
"I'm sorry," you choked out once more, your voice hoarse with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Natasha. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean to…"
But the words fell flat, empty and hollow in the face of your own self-condemnation. And as you sank further into the darkness, the weight of your own despair threatening to consume you, you knew that there was no escape from the demons that haunted you.
"Y/n, listen to me," Natasha's voice was firm, cutting through the haze of panic that clouded your mind. "You need to breathe. Deep breaths, okay?"
You nodded, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of your racing heart.
"That's it," she encouraged, her voice a soothing balm against the storm raging within you. "Inhale... and exhale. You're okay, I've got you."
You focused on her words, on the steady rhythm of her breathing, allowing them to anchor you in the present moment.
"I'm not going anywhere, Y/n," Natasha continued, her grip on your hand reassuringly firm. "I'm right here with you, and I'm not letting you go."
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you clung to her, the weight of your own self-loathing threatening to crush you beneath its suffocating embrace.
"I'm so sorry, Natasha," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I didn't-"
Natasha silenced you with a gentle finger against your lips, her eyes soft with understanding. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured.
With trembling hands, you grasped Natasha's palms in yours, feeling the warmth of her touch seeping into your skin like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Without a word, you pulled her into a tight embrace, needing to feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your chest.
"I love you, Tasha," you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. "I love you more than anything in this world."
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you pressed kisses against her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, each touch a silent testament to the depth of your love for her.
"I'm sorry for everything," you murmured between kisses, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for making you feel unloved, for neglecting you when you needed me most. I promise, I'll do better. I'll be better for you, for us."
Natasha's arms tightened around you, her own tears mingling with yours as she buried her face against your chest. "I love you too, Y/n," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "And I forgive you. We'll get through this together, I promise."
---
Over the next few days, you devoted yourself wholeheartedly to supporting Natasha, determined to make amends for your past neglect. You woke up early to prepare nutritious meals for her, ensuring that she had the sustenance she needed to fuel her body and soul.
You gently guided her through each day, offering words of encouragement and reassurance whenever she needed them. You deleted all the news apps from her phone, shielding her from the harsh judgments and scrutiny of the outside world.
And when you learned of the agents who had dared to badmouth Natasha, you wasted no time in tracking them down and giving them a piece of your mind. With a fiery determination burning in your eyes, you confronted them head-on, refusing to let them tarnish Natasha's reputation any further.
"You have no idea what she's been through," you spat, your voice laced with righteous anger. "She's one of the strongest, most resilient people I know, and she deserves nothing but respect."
The agents cowered before you, their faces pale with guilt and shame. And as you walked away, leaving them to ponder the consequences of their actions, you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you.
Every time you sensed Natasha spiraling, you were there, a steady anchor in her stormy sea. You showered her with kisses, peppering her face with affectionate gestures, a silent reminder of the love that enveloped her. Your touch was a constant presence, your fingers entwined with hers or softly tracing patterns on her skin, a tangible reassurance that you were there for her, always.
You made sure she had everything she needed, anticipating her wants before she even voiced them. Whether it was a warm meal or a comforting hug, you were always one step ahead, ready to offer her solace in her moments of need.
But even as you tended to her, Natasha noticed the turmoil brewing beneath your surface. Despite your smiles and jokes, she saw the shadows lurking in your eyes, the weight of your own struggles weighing heavily on your shoulders. And though you tried to hide it, she knew that your sleepless nights were spent wrestling with demons of your own.
---
As the time came for you to return to work after a month of devoted care for Natasha, a sense of dread settled in the pit of your stomach. The thought of leaving her alone, vulnerable to the demons that had haunted her in the past, filled you with a gnawing anxiety.
You found yourself making up excuses, delaying your departure in a futile attempt to hold onto the precious moments you had shared together. But Natasha saw through your facade, her eyes searching yours for the truth that you were desperate to hide.
"Y/n, what's going on?" she asked, her voice gentle but firm. "You've been acting strange lately, avoiding going back to work, making excuses to stay. Is something wrong?"
Your heart constricted at the concern in her voice, the weight of your own fears threatening to suffocate you. But you couldn't bring yourself to voice the truth, to admit to the depths of your own insecurities.
"I… I just don't want to leave you," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm afraid that if I go back to work, things will go back to how they were before. I'm afraid of losing you Tasha."
Tears welled in your eyes as you spoke, the vulnerability of your confession laying bare the depths of your fear. But Natasha's response was immediate, her arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace, her warmth a comforting balm against the storm raging within you.
"Y/n, listen to me," she said, her voice steady and unwavering. "I'm not going anywhere. We've been through hell and back together, and I'm not about to let anything tear us apart."
With a heavy heart and a sense of resolve, you made the difficult decision to resign from your position, knowing that your place was by Natasha's side. As you prepared to leave, a fierce determination burned within you to make the most of the time you had left together.
With a hunger born of love and longing, you pulled Natasha into your arms, your lips seeking hers in a passionate kiss.
An so as you hold Natasha close, your heart overflowing with love and devotion, you feel the need to express the depths of your feelings to her.
"Nat," you begin, your voice soft and tender, "I need you to understand something. I love you more than words can express, more than I ever thought possible."
You press a gentle kiss to her forehead, savoring the warmth of her skin against your lips before continuing.
"I love you for who you are, not for your past or your appearance. Every part of you, every scar, every imperfection, it's all part of what makes you so incredibly beautiful to me."
Your fingers trace the contours of her face, your touch reverent and adoring.
"And I want you to know that my love for you will never waver. No matter what challenges we face, no matter what obstacles come our way, I will always be by your side, loving you with every beat of my heart."
Tears shimmer in Natasha's eyes as she listens to your words, her own heart swelling with emotion.
"I love you too, Y/n," she whispers, her voice choked with tears. "More than you'll ever know."
---------
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softgreengrass · 1 year
Text
Gone Bad
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Natasha Romanoff x reader
Summary: You're a SHIELD agent on a mission gone bad.
Words: 1.5k
Warnings: blood, getting shot, f!reader
Author's Note: hurt/comfort ig? FLUFF. soft natasha :)
You weren’t sure where exactly you went wrong. You had gotten the mission assignment from Fury, done the required research, made sure you were properly trained, and left quickly. Everything had been going exactly to plan — you snuck in through the roof, incapacitated a few guards, and maneuvered to the underground vault that held the top-secret computer chips you were after. The security system was easy to freeze. The vault was easy to crack.
Only, at some point during your exit, you made a mistake. It could’ve been anything: tripping a sensor, or leaving a guard slightly conscious, or, hell, you could’ve taken a wrong turn and walked right in front of a camera. It didn’t matter. The point was, you had fucked up, and now you were getting shot at.
In the midst of the panic and rush, all that was on your mind was how disappointed Fury would be. This was only your fourth solo mission, and sure, the first three had gone off without a hitch, but agents weren’t supposed to make mistakes. If you managed to worm your way out of this with the chips—and that was a big if—would he even trust you to go on another solo? It didn’t seem likely. This operation was supposed to be a secret, it was supposed to happen completely under the enemies’ noses, but that was all hopeless now. They knew that SHIELD was after them. Shit, they knew that SHIELD was after them.
In all of your spiraling, you didn’t notice the hostile sneaking up behind you and cocking a gun. What you did notice, however, was the sharp, burning pain in the center of your stomach. The agony and blood quickly blooming across your torso. The terror that instantly compounded into a heavy sludge in your gut.
In an instant, fear snapped into focus, and you swiftly knocked the man out and found your way to an exit.
There wasn’t a moment for you to catch your breath as you straddled your motorcycle and peeled down the road, away from the facility. You ducked and cranked the throttle when bullets whizzed past you.
Embarrassingly, the thought of having to explain to Fury how you fucked up brought tears to your eyes, so you made a split-second decision. You haphazardly swung right at the next intersection, ignoring the honks and shouts that followed you. You sped away from SHIELD headquarters and gritted your teeth.
Maybe it was the blood loss, or the fact that you were numb with adrenaline and panic, but you were headed towards a place you had only been a few times — strictly on invitation. But it was the only place you could think of that would take you in if you showed up verging on death.
“If she’s not here,” you wheezed to yourself, stepping off of your bike and limping through the dark parking garage. “I’ll just check her other place. Yeah. I’ll check the other place.”
No matter how many times you repeated that to yourself, by the time you had dragged yourself to her door, you knew you had no chance of getting anywhere else. You were already dangerously lightheaded, swaying with every knock you landed.
At some point you collapsed against it. You didn’t want to believe that she wasn’t home. You couldn’t.
Your name, foggy and distorted, pulled you from comfortable darkness. Hands shook your shoulders, and someone called your name again.
Natasha’s face blurred into focus. There was a crease between her eyebrows. “What happened?”
The day came flooding back, and with it, the pain. “Mission,” you breathed weakly.
The corners of her mouth quirked up, her eyes brightening. “Mission?”
“Didn’t really go well,” you finished, glancing down at your shirt. It was soaked through with blood.
Natasha’s gaze followed yours, and a heavy sigh escaped her lips. “Why didn’t you go back to SHIELD?”
You swallowed.
After a moment of thick silence, she stood up from her crouched position and grabbed your hands, pulling you to your feet with ease. Your vision immediately went black and you slumped against her.
“Okay,” she mumbled, trying to quiet the fear roaring inside of her. “Okay, let’s get you inside.”
When you came to for a second time, it was nearly sunrise, and Natasha sat beside you on the couch, watching a muted hockey game. Your shirt was off, leaving you in a sports bra, and your stomach was wrapped in clean white gauze. When you shifted, her attention immediately snapped to you.
“Morning,” she said quietly, her expression an amalgamation of amusement and concern.
You forced a small smile. In truth, your head was pounding like it never had before.
As if she read your mind, she reached over to the coffee table and grabbed the painkillers and glass of water sitting, ready. She offered them to you gently.
When you had chugged the entire glass, sighed dramatically, and leaned back, she spoke.
“So are you going to tell me why I came home and found you bleeding out at my door at midnight?”
You didn’t want to, but then again you had no choice. “Got shot,” you grunted.
“Yeah, I noticed that,” she bit. “Why?”
“Mission went wrong.” You screwed your eyes shut, willing the pain away.
“I’m gonna need more information than that.”
“Didn’t wanna go to SHIELD.”
She seemed to realize that her hard attitude wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She took a deep breath and looked at you — really looked at you. The dark circles under your eyes, the sunkenness of your cheeks, the slight shaking of your hunched shoulders. The bruises covering you. Her heart clenched.
“What happened?” she asked, this time softly. It caught you off guard.
“I-” your voice broke, and you closed your mouth before a sob could escape.
“Oh, baby,” she mumbled, pulling you into her arms, careful not to strain your wound. “It’s okay.”
You hid your face in her neck, holding back more tears. Her arms wrapped around you securely, holding you so tightly you didn’t think she’d ever let go. You didn’t want her to let go.
“It’s okay,” she repeated, kissing your hair.
“I messed up,” you whimpered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I-”
“All that matters is that you’re okay,” Natasha said. “Understand? That’s all that matters.”
You couldn’t stop the hot tears from rolling down your cheeks. “But the mission…”
“The mission doesn’t matter.”
She sounded so sure of herself, you couldn’t even argue. Maybe she would talk to Fury for you. Maybe it would be okay.
White-hot guilt shot through you. Who were you to show up at her doorstep like this? To force her to care for you, and then expect her to save you from Fury’s wrath? Sure, you weren’t strangers, but this was asking too much. You shouldn’t have been making her worry. You shouldn’t have kept her up all night. You shouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place — no. This was all your fault.
You wanted to act on your guilt, push her away and block her out, but your body wasn’t listening to your brain. Your hands refused to move, except to grip her shirt tighter. All you could manage to do was squeak out another apology. “I’m sorry.”
“Shhh,” she whispered, stroking your back. “It’s okay.”
You couldn’t help but break down sobbing. After a few minutes, Natasha reassuring you and whispering your name like a prayer, you found yourself taking a deep breath.
“I want to take you to headquarters,” she murmured into your hair.
Your breath caught in your throat.
“Just for the injuries,” she rushed to say, quick to continue rubbing your back. You sighed in relief. “It’s okay that a mission went bad. It happens to everyone.”
You shook your head against her. “No, this was, it didn’t go bad, I fucked it up.”
“That’s okay.”
“I shouldn’t have made a mistake,” you croaked, pulling away from her. Your hair stuck to your red, tear-streaked face, and she still placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. She still looked at you with nothing but care in her eyes.
“I don’t care that you made a mistake.”
Yet again, she’d caught you off guard. You couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“What was the mission?” she asked quietly, slowly moving strands of hair out of your face.
“I had to recover these stupid computer chips,” you scoffed, looking down.
“What happened to the chips?”
You pulled them out of the pocket on your pant leg and tossed them onto the coffee table. Natasha’s eyebrows flew up.
“So you didn’t mess up. You completed the mission.”
You bit the inside of your cheek. “They weren’t supposed to know I was there.”
“So what?” she laughed, genuinely laughed, and you looked up. “You still won.”
Oh. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal after all.
Her eyes softened and she brushed more hair off of your face before kissing your forehead again. “You did good.”
That sent you into another crying fit, but Natasha didn’t mind. She would happily spend the rest of her life drying your tears. She held you close to her chest, lightly scratching the base of your scalp.
You couldn’t believe how soft she was. Soft, and cozy, and you never wanted to leave her arms.
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