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quietlyimplode · 6 months

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The language of flowers and silent things

Whumptober 2023: Day 15 - I’m fine

Warnings: aftermath of recovery, discussion of red room procedures

Word Count: 2.4k (gif not mine)

Summary: Natasha recovers in Okinawa and tells Clint some of the horrors of her past. The relationship still young; she’s not sure he’s ready to hear it.

A/N: <3

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

OKINAWA

2010

She dreams of drowning.

Water filling her lungs, pressure all around her.

She can’t take a deep breath.

“Breathe,” comes a whisper.

“Breathe.”

But it hurts, no one should be breathing in water.

Her arms are held by the water, a cruel taunt in trying to swim up for air, and she fights it, once, twice, then… arms like lead, she lets the water take her, absorbing her, drowning her.

It hurts, she thinks, but maybe she deserves it, and then sinks into unconsciousness.

She sleeps a lot.

Coulson comes and smooths things over; he pulls strings at the American airbase that Natasha is transferred to, and it allows them to be frank in conversations, rather than understanding half of it.

She wakes and seems to realise she’s in a hospital, looks for Clint and goes back to sleep. Even as they taper down the pain medication, she sleeps just as much.

Clint worries.

They tell him it’s just her body’s way of healing.

He thinks it’s more than that.

It’s worse than the dissociation, or seems to be, because she doesn’t talk to him, doesn’t respond to his questions and just goes through the motions when she is awake.

He doesn’t know what to do.

The nurses come and go, and the doctors give her a cursory check, and every time, she’s asleep.

At 2am, she watches him closely.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” she croaks.

He smiles and touches her hand gently.

“Where else would I go?” he whispers.

He doesn’t want to tell her that sometimes her nightmares make her thrash, and that the nurses are scared of her at nights, that he seems to be the only one to calm her.

He doesn’t tell her that he’s been so worried that he wants to bundle her up and take her away from the hospital because it seems to be causing harm, not to her body but to her mind.

So he just rubs his hands over the top of hers and then kisses it.

“Thank you for staying with me,” she says, staring.

He nods and kisses her hand again.

“Go back to sleep, Nat, I’ll be here.”

She has a fever.

She think he’s someone form the red room.

He spends the night telling her stories again.

Finds facts about the place.

She thinks she’s going to die.

Clint assures her she’s not.

“I want to leave,” she moans to Clint, half conscious and trying to get out of the bed.

A growl passes her lips as she looks around in anger.

“I want to leave,” she says, Clint looking on in sympathy.

“You’ve broken your ribs, a collapsed lung, and are recovering from surgery, as soon as we can ween you from the antibiotics you can go,” the doctor says in frustration.

“I understand hospitals aren’t your favourite place but leaving now, would be detrimental to your health.”

Blatantly, she ignores him.

“Can we go?” she asks, trying again, this time standing.

“Please?”

Clint’s heart pounds.

It feels like a test.

“I’ll take care of her, we have a place nearby, we can come back if there’s anything wrong,” he argues.

He just knows that this place is not good for her.

Nightmares nightly.

Dissociation daily.

They’ve been here almost two weeks and already he can see how much weight she’s dropped, only eating and drink enough to avoid further intervention.

The doctor stares, Natasha already out of bed, trying to pack things into a bag.

He swallows and then nods.

“Fine, but you’re going against medical advice. We can’t keep you here. Come back in three days for a check, and if okay next week, I’ll sign you off for flying,” he starts.

Turning to Natasha, he continues.

“Antibiotics, every 5 hours, with food. No skipping them. Strap your ribs, and keep the cast on your arm. Do not leave the country. They need at least another week. Do you know how painful the flight would be on delicate lungs with the altitude? Let alone flying with broken ribs on a plane? No, I repeat, no skipping the country.”

He turns to the nurse to draw up scripts and turns back.

“Three days.”

Clint nods, apprehension pulling at him, wondering if he’s up to the task of taking care of an injured friend, lover, whatever they are that’s slightly undefined.

“Three days,” he nods back.

“I’m fine,” she growls.

“Just let me help?” he replies, frustrated.

“No, I can do it, I…”

The cereal pours everywhere. Natasha stares at the little pieces going everywhere and he swears he sees her bottom lip trembling. She covers it, swearing instead, but he feels he knows she’s teetering on the edge.

“Go have a shower,” he sighs, “I’ll clean it, and then maybe we can go to the beach?”

She nods, stalking off before he can say another word and he sets to picking up all the tiny pieces.

He’s glad for the separation and the slight time alone, wondering at her capacity and if he needs to seek help from Coulson or Fury.

He knows some of the trauma and difficulties with hospitals, but he also feels he’s missing something. She’s getting better, but also, it’s like nothing he says, nothing he can do is helping.

They go back to the doctor tomorrow and whilst the last day has been better, it feels like it’s going downhill again.

It’s like before, when he first bought her into Shield, maybe not that bad but it feels akin to it.

He wanders into the small bedroom, and finds her sitting on the bed.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

She stares for a moment, then looks to him.

“I can’t have children,” she says abruptly.

It’s so left of field that Clint doesn’t answer straight away.

“I didn’t lie to you, but I didn’t know how to tell you,” she says quickly.

“What?” he says dumbly.

“In the Red Room, they take away your ability to have children. They call it Graduation. They put you in hospital, sedate you, and then celebrate the fact that they’ve just performed major surgery on you with another test. The last time.. The last time I spent so long in hospital was when they took…” she pauses.

“They took my choices. Any choices, for their own reasons and own gains.”

Natasha stares at her hands as she finishes and Clint feels the pieces fall into place.

“Nat…” he says dumbly, sitting next to her on the bed.

“You don’t have to say anything… and if this; whatever this is needs to stop and we can just be partners or not, you can decide that too, I just wanted you to know. I know… the last two weeks, I can’t… I couldn’t hold it together. But this, I think I needed you to know. I needed to tell you. It’s not fair. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a relationship like this and…” she sighs; stopping the tirade as he pulls her into a sideward hug.

“You think, that not being about to have children, that the evilness that others did to you, matter to me? That it would make any difference to how I see you, only to consolidate my view of how brave and strong you are?”

He shakes his head.

“You’re an idiot” he finishes.

She’s silent and he’s worried he’s said something wrong.

“Nat, hospitals - they’re not good for you are they?”

There’s tears that he can see on her face as she shakes her head.

“I should be better than this,” she says, shakily.

“They make me lose time, make me panic, the smell mostly, it becomes all I can think of. Gloves, the sound of the beeping on the machine, I see, hear and smell it and I’m back in the red room.”

There’s so much more that makes sense now, in her reactions at the hospital.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologises, “I didn’t know.”

She shrugs, “what could you have done? You got me out of the there.”

He wants to do more.

“For the record, the whole not being able to have children thing, doesn’t make a difference in how I feel about you. It doesn’t make you any less, and it certainly doesn’t change what this is between us.”

He sighs heavily, hugs her harder, and then stands, offering a hand.

“Tomorrow we have to go back,” he starts, “how will I know what to do for you?”

She frowns, “what do you mean?”

Clint thinks, remembers Coulson, when he was struggling with talking in therapy and words just seemed too hard.

“There’s like a traffic light system,” he ponders, “red for triggered, yellow for getting there and green for okay.”

He pauses feeling like he’s explaining it all wrong.

“I’m explaining this wrong.”

Natasha isn’t stupid, and she’s been in enough therapy that it makes sense to her.

“I have to go?” she says in a small voice, and he doesn’t want to make her with all his heart.

“An hour,” he promises, “a quick check and then we can come back, go to the beach and you can choose dinner.”

Not meeting his eyes, she nods.

“Okay,” she says quietly.

“And if you say red, we can leave, okay?”

She nods, a small movement.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, feeling she wants to talk more but perhaps doesn’t have the words.

“Can we go to the beach,” she asks, “I don’t know how you got this house, or even have it this close to the beach but, I think it helps. It’s like a holiday.”

He smiles.

“It’s pretty cool isn’t it? We are on holiday, by the way. Fury knows we never take leave. We have two more weeks, so there’s not rush on anything. First we just need to get you off the antibiotics, those ribs healed and then we can go back, but because we are on leave, it doesn’t matter.”

There’s a small shift in mood as he tells her this.

“We aren’t going to get fired? You’re not going to get in trouble for staying with me?” she asks.

Clint laughs, derisively.

“You thought they’d fire us?”

She nods, slowly.

“Nat, we are the best two operatives they have, they’re not firing us. In fact, they sent Coulson, who fixed things and then he signed off on the house so we were safe.”

He helps her up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t tell you before, I assumed that you’d assume we were okay, and you’d be on leave.”

Natasha shakes her head, and points to the bathroom.

“Join me?” she asks, pulling her shorts down, and moving away.

He laughs.

“Of course.”

He thinks it’s the ocean that helps to heal.

Small conversations on the Red Room, she indulges him with answering questions, and he only pushes so far.

It’s easier as they’re walking on the sand, to ask the harder ones.

She asks them back, and they grow closer. The time comes to an end and he calls in, Fury and Coulson sending through mission packets to the small house by courier.

Natasha sighs.

“I knew it was coming, but I don’t think I was ready,” she tells him on the last morning.

“This was my first holiday,” she confesses, “and I didn’t hate it.”

He laughs at her.

“I’m glad,” he says, opening his own mission packet and then watching as she opens hers.

“Separate missions,” he says glumly.

She nods, scanning the information.

“What do you know about Tony Stark?”

Clint swallows, he knows the name, just about everyone in the city does.

“Do you mean Iron Man?”

They both laugh, Natasha moving off the couch to grab the paperwork that she’d just picked up.

“It’s my next mission.”

She hands him the envelope and he grabs his.

“I’m going to New Mexico,” he returns.

“Why solo missions?”

He shrugs, grabbing his mug off the table and sitting down next to her.

“I don’t know.”

Natasha frowns.

“I think I just got used for working with someone.”

The last five weeks have certainly done wonders for team building, he thinks.

“Do you think it’s punishment?” Natasha asks.

“Okinawa was a shit show,” Clint admits, “maybe they’re testing us.”

He goes to refill his cup, lifting it to ask her if she wants one as he considers their words.

“Maybe not a test, maybe more that they want to see what we can do alone.”

She scans his paper.

“Avengers Initiative? Mine says that as well.”

Clint sits next to her, grabbing the paper and sighing, “Nah mine’s more boring, there’s a spike in geothermal land, and Fury thinks it’s alien.”

Natasha laughs, and then looks at his face.

“Oh, you’re serious,” she clarifies.

“It’s more about protection of the scientists, if it is alien,” he surmises.

She sits near him, flipping through the paper.

“They’re looking at you, for the Avengers,” she says reading further.

He laughs, easily.

“I think it’s us, they’re likely looking at, who better than an ex carney and a former Red Room graduate?”

She nods, “scraping at the bottom of the barrel, really.”

“Stark is up for it too,” she tells him.

“I’ve got to submit a portfolio, for the undercover shit,” she says, annoyed.

“And be hired.”

Clint smiles as he reads the parameters.

“God, Stark’s going to be a creepy man, isn’t he? He wants evidence of work, and they’ve put that he values modeling here.”

She groans.

“I’m good at taking photos,” he grins.

“Why can’t he be gay? Or married? Why models?” she complains.

“Nat, he’s going to take one look at you and hire you on the spot,” Clint assures.

“Come on, let’s spend our last day here before our flight, and when we get home, I’ll take your photos.”

Natasha stands, the bandages invisible under her top.

“Rich people suck,” she grumbles again.

“I know Fury has only done this to give me extra time, but still, I’d prefer your low ball mission to New Mexico rather than playing politics with Tony Stark and Pepper Potts.”

They make their way out, Clint checking twice that the door is locked.

“You never know,” he says, still grinning, “you might make a new friend.”

“Shut up,” she replies, throwing the car keys at him.

#whumptober2023 #no. 15 #I’m fine #natasha romanoff #clintasha #black widow #clint barton #my fic #hawkeye #natasha romanoff fic #fic recs #clintasha fanfiction #clintasha fanfic #clint barton x natasha romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x Clint Barton #marvel fic #avengers fic #black widow fix #red room

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purpleandstarlight · 8 months

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"If I had a nickel for every time I thought my fiance had died only to see him come back to me not totally unscracthed but at least alive and with Sebastian at his side i'd have two nickels. Wich isn't a lot, but it's weird that happened more than once."

-Lizzy at some point after her trip on the Campania, probably.

#Girlie felt like a widow twice in 15 years #Lizzy doesn't deserve all the traumatic shit the Phantomhive twins put her trough honestly #kuroshitsuji #black butler #ciel phantomhive #o!ciel #lizzy midford #elizabeth midford

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arachnophanatic · 4 months

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Young western black widow (Latrodectus hesperus) molting in my driveway

#I realized I don’t think I ever posted these here #spiders #spider #widows #black widows #theridiidae #cobweb spiders #my photos #photo quality isn’t GREAT but it was pitch black and I was lying on the ground with a flashlight #so it’s fine I think lol #btw from first photo to last this took her about 15 minutes #which is pretty good hustle considering a weird giant was pointing a bright light at her

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betterbooksandthings · 10 months

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"Feminist romance novels are everywhere. With so many options and so little time, sometimes it’s nice to have a list like this as a starting point. This is going to be a very fun list of delicious feminist romance books that you must pick up and read, but before all that, we must discuss the feminism of it all.

For the sake of this article, I am following Mikki Kendall’s approach to feminism in Hood Feminism. The idea is that committing to intersectional feminism that includes trans women, women of color, and disabled women means understanding feminist issues are inherently variable and not always immediately recognizable as feminist issues. Kendall explains, “A one-size-fits-all approach to feminism is damaging because it alienates the very people it is supposed to serve, without ever managing to support them” (3). So, while feminism is about the promotion of gender equality, that is just an element of feminism. The role of active feminists is to be aware that more than just a person’s gender impacts their access to rights and services. While I would also recommend reading bell hooks and other excellent feminist writers, I appreciate Kendall’s explanation here.

Feminist literary critics have also looked at how romance can talk about the complexities of feminist issues within their story framework. Avidly Reads Guilty Pleasures by Arielle Zibrak understands the ways romance novels are a source of feminine media culture some associate with shame and censure, reflecting that the Western world often diminishes feminine interests and pursuits. All that is to say, romances have been praised for centering feminist interests and issues like love, job security, equal partnership, and reproductive rights."

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lbibliophile-mcu · 2 years

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The Masks They Wear

Names like jewellery - the Black Widow

She carries a collection of names and faces in her purse, and checks her reflection in passing widows: Today, is she 'Natalie' or 'Nicole', or 'Natasha'?

Revision - Captain America

He was shocked when he saw how his legend has changed, twisted to fit the times. Good thing the serum made him a fast study.

Building masks - Tony "Iron Man" Stark

He has shown a mask since he was a child, growing to match its curves until he forgot his own face. Now, he'll shape his mask from metal.

---

For: Whumptober 2022 - Day 15, Day 13, Alt 7: Lies, Dislocation, Protective @steverogersbingo - E5: "Not a soldier but a good man" @tonystarkbingo - T5: Captain America

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bibliophile-bi · 1 year

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I'm seeing guardians of the galaxy vol.3 in 20 minutes, I predict I will make it to the marvel opening credit before I cry

#when i watched spiderman i cried before it started #and i got 15 seconds into black panther before i cried #i cried 2 minutes into thor #those are the only marvel films i cried at in the cinema #i survived all others since black widow without any tears :D #bibliophile-bi

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missmarvelobsession · 1 year

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Whumpril Day 15 is up! @whumpril

I got depressed and fell behind on posting sorry

Todays Characters: Natalia/Natasha, Clint

Tags: How Clint Met Natasha

Description: The moment Natasha sees her way out

#Whumpril Day 15 #Whumpril 2023 #natasha romanoff #black widow #clint barton #hawkeye #mcu #marvel #black widow fanfic #natasha romanoff fanfic #clint barton fanfic #clint and natasha friendship #clint and natasha friendship fanfiction #whumprilday15 #whumpril2023

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xnxthinglastsfxrever · 1 year

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// All replies will be done over this week and will be post sometimes on Saturday, please bare with me, I get home late from work and just really exhausted. Since we are short staff, I get more pile of work and patients to take care of, so replies are super slow. I have 13 drafts saved, working on some at the moment but please don't be discourage, I still want to roleplay with ya'll and new threads too! Just hit me up in IM, and I promise I won't bite.

#out of vodka || ooc #⧗ Black Widow ⧗#psa #March 15 2023

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githvyrik · 2 years

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I Do Not Feel Safe In This Household Anymore

#there is literally probably the biggest spider I’ve ever seen outside of a zoo or smth on the inside of the screen door #it definitely looks like a black widow but I didn’t think they got that big #black widows are p small so i don’t think it is one unless this is a mutant freak #i also don’t want to look at it for an extended period of time bc my body is going through an extremely visceral reaction #sorry to spider lovers but it’s making me want to crawl out of my skin and then blow myself up #god bless.#it’s so big and in such a weird spot that I have no idea how to like. shoo it away #luckily it’s not inside the actual apartment but the fact that it’s in such close proximity is making me feel Very Very Bad #what if I call my bf over to get it for me.#it’s been like 15 minutes since I discovered it and my heart is still Pounding this fucking Sucks #like literally what if I kms

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blednokrov · 3 months

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One Piece OCS: yet another kids of Big Mom Charlotte "Black Widower" (黒鰥夫) Pastello - A guy with passive, yet difficult personality - the better you get to know him, the less you like him. He was once married off to a heiress of a rich family, who mysteriously passed away soon. After a year of mourning, he married again, and yet, his another wife died too. After a month of mourning, he married again, and his wife passed... Fruit: Bite-Bite Fruit (カムカムの実) Bounty: 880,000,000B

...Oh, how blessed I am to be loved by such beatuful women, aren't I?

Charlotte "Playman" (遊び屋) Plüshka - known as "Charlotte's Playman", they're a master of party games and tricks. They are rarely tasked with fighting, mostly because they tend to turn every fight into an interactive show, trying to get the enemy to play with them, and while they can stall you close to forever, they don't enjoy hurting others. Instead they're the one to often babysit their youngest siblings, and the kids just adore them. Any Charlotte child under the age of 15 will sing you Plushka's signature "Fluffy Dough Hearts" song in an instant.

Fruit: Split-Split Fruit (ワケワケの実) Bounty: 333,333,333B

Can you tell me which of these colors is the odd one? If you get three more questions right, you will get a ve-e-e-ery special prize, isn't it great?~

#art #one piece #oc #cw blood

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thesimline · 10 months

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One of my personal favourite decades! 70s hair is usually associated with Farrah Fawcett’s iconic feathered ‘do, but there was actually a lot of variety in styles during that decade. CC links under the cut.

You can find more of my female hair collections here:

1920s ✺ 1930s ✺ 1940s ✺ 1950s ✺ 1960s ✺ 1980s ✺ 1990s

1 - Black Widow by Simlive

2 - Madison by Green Llamas

3 - Winona by Simstrouble

4 - Rhoda by Simstrouble

5 - Pam by Birksches

6 - Strange Time by Marigolde

7 - Charline by Simstrouble

8 - Corrine by Feral Poodles

9 - Dainty Deena by Renora

10 - Stevie by Serenity

11 - Lima by Green Llamas

12 - Olympia by Simstrouble

13 - Nay Nay by Atashi77

14 - Linda by Birksche

15 - Jumpsuit Ripley by Busted Pixels

16 - Damlas Bun 2 by Birksche

17 - Lara by Feral Poodles (TSR)

18 - Terry by Dogsill

19 - Venere by Simstrouble

20 - Messy Bob by Sycko Sims

21 - Diana by Feral Poodles

22 - Jordana by Kiara Zurk

23 - Noah by Dogsill

24 - Lou by Birksche

With thanks to some amazing creators: @bustedpixels @feralpoodles @dogsill @simstrouble @sycko @zurkdesign @serenity-cc @greenllamas

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quietlyimplode · 2 years

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leave everything but your bones behind

Whumptober 2022: day 15 - emotional damage

Warnings: violence I guess?

Word Count: 1.5k (gif not mine)

Summary: Natasha becomes unwell and only the Red Room can fix her. The choice is die or go back to the very place that made her.

A/N: halfway :) <3 (I’m very over the monotony of posting daily; why is it so hard?! Help.)

Main Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

———

Steve checks his gun and then his watch.

The explosives set on the charge are set to detonate in two minutes.

The compound isn’t large, the size of a small prison and seems to be made up as such. He watches the guards patrol again and shoots the first with deadly aim, and then the second.

He doesn’t like guns.

He doesn’t like those who hurt his friends more.

Idly, he wishes he hadn’t listened to some of Clint’s stories of the Red Room, it makes him feel more feral.

“Ready Cap,” comes Clint’s call.

There’s commotion near where the downed guards are, and he shoots two more that have come to see what is happening.

Ten seconds and he feels the adrenaline dump through him.

His vision narrows and he feels at war.

The explosion rocks the prison.

He ignores the sounds of yelling, that sounds too much like a battlefield.

Soldiers and women run out, the honey trap set.

More, he thinks, he wants more to come out.

The guards fan out and he presses the remote detonator to blast the two charges, sending bodies flying.

It’s a clean up job near him, four down, he becomes pinned behind a wall. The sounds of shooting and shouting and screaming.

“Clint?” he presses the offensive, throwing his shield and hearing it reverberate across the wall, knocking down three.

There’s girls dressed like Natasha, they appear like ghosts.

“Clint; the widows are here,” he calls again. It seems Clint has his own set of issues.

“Change to tranquillisers,” he hears Clint shout, “they’re not going down without a fight, and I don’t want to kill them. It’s not our call.”

He sounds out of breath.

Steve changes guns, holstering the lethal one and holds his shield in his other hand, as he wonders just how potent these are.

“Go for the neck,” he advises, as the first dart shot into the widows chest doesn’t even slow her down. He throws his shield again, but they vault over it easily.

Distracted, they don’t expect the shot of the dart that hits two of them in the neck as they drop immediately.

Potent then, he surmises grimly.

Two more launch at him as he runs away, hiding beyond the gate they came through.

He climbs quickly as they catch up to him, reading his stance, as they both exchange blows.

They’re fast, and strong, and don’t hold back.

It’s luck that another charge explodes, and he gets off two shots whilst they’re distracted.

“Clint?” he calls, watching as four more widows approach, “where are you?”

“At medical,” Clint responds quickly, “I’ve found her, they’ve got her guarded. We’ll be coming out hot, can you cover us?”

Steve hears a shout and then… swearing.

He quickly reloads the gun and fires on the women.

Two drop, but the third and fourth still come.

He runs to where he left Clint, the two in hot pursuit as he throws a smoke bomb, then a frag grenade that lights up the path.

It’s knocked them over, and he takes the opportunity to shoot them so they don’t keep coming.

More shouting, and Clint yells that he’s coming.

The sewage pipes are large, and stink more than Steve wants to admit.

He tells Clint he’s setting charges for them to collapse once they’re free and clear; which he does with the remote charges.

He throws in two smoke grenades for cover and waits.

“Now!!” Clint shouts as he emerges; Natasha unconscious in his arms.

Steve does as he’s told covering them both; and sets the charges off.

The tunnel collapses inwards, he hopes not on any widows.

They race to the car, the compound flaming and smoke billowing as they leave.

Clint holds onto Natasha for dear life as Steve gets in, the Quinjet parked not far away.

It just feels too far right now.

Clint can hear the commotion, the distraction working as he works his way into the belly of the beast.

Medical isn’t that far from the point he emerges. He tries to keep out of the sight of the cameras, but it’s almost impossible.

He just hopes they’re so distracted by Steve that they don’t even think to look inwards.

Steve tells him the widows are coming for him.

He wants to wish him luck. He doesn’t want to kill them, wondering if they all are as tragic as Natasha.

There’s a reason that they chose girls no one would miss.

Looking to his left, he realises that medical is a locked ward.

He should have known.

The swipe key is on a guard.

He shoots him as he comes round the corner; uncaring, knowing exactly what the guards in this place are known for.

Steve calls to him. He knows it can’t be this easy.

“We’ll be coming out hot,” he assumes. Even if they won’t be, he wants to burn this place to the ground.

Taking the swipe card, he enters, finding two widows and Natasha strapped to a gurney.

“You're here for her,” one says, as he raises his gun.

“Let her go,” he asks, his Russian stilted.

“She’s a traitor!” The other shouts. “She will always be ours. She will always be one of us!”

He shoots her in the neck, dropping her immediately.

The other swears, loud, as he shoots her too.

Natasha looks to him with dead eyes as he approaches her.

“Hey,” he says softly. “You’re okay, tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” she says robotically, eyes staring straight through him.

He reaches to touch her and she can’t help the involuntary flinch.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, backing off, hands up.

“I know you, don’t I?” she says in thick Russian, a languid blink

He stops in his tracks, looking her up and down.

“What?”

What have they done?

“I’m telling you want’s wrong. She.. I know you.”

Natasha shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut as if in pain. She swallows visibly.

“Of course you know me,” Clint says slowly.

“Are you here to kill me?”

The question is like a sucker punch.

He hasn’t moved but know he has to; Steve is likely to get pinned, and there’s surely more widows coming. If not them, then the guards of the building.

“No, Nat, no,” he placates, unstrapping her from the chair; worried at the way her body is shaking slightly.

“I am not Natasha,” she tells him, getting up off the gurney, slightly angry and a frown on her grey face.

“Of course you are,” he says; making her stand on shaking legs.

There’s a grunt as her legs buckle and he tries to catch her.

She strikes first and hard, punching him in the face. He’s ready though, he’s thankful that even when she’s not herself, she’s predictable.

Clint takes the punch, rolling his body into hers, stabbing her with the injector and depressing the needle.

“No,” she whispers, tired eyes staring at him.

Steve is quiet as Clint checks the auto pilot.

Tony sits on the other side watching them both carefully.

Holding her hand, Steve squeezes it hard, hoping it conveys everything he needs it to.

Her widow suit has tears through it, the thick material frayed, but they don’t want to remove it without medical being present. Clint already suspects a broken arm.

Steve’s breathing quickens, he starts to panic; what if’s slamming into his brain like gunshots, as he notices blood on her mouth.

In war, everything was fair game. The women in that compound weren’t at war, but they were being trained for it.

Moved like soldiers, reacted like them. Enemies of America, his brain supplies.

He can feel his breathing quicken, and closes his eyes.

Bringing her cold hand to his face, he smells gunpowder on his own hand.

Steve remembers sitting with Bucky, the war raging as they shared a meal and talked about home.

The flashback isn’t bad, more of a memory, but still leaves him desolate that Natasha might have similar memories of her own wars.

She doesn’t have memories of home, not that she’s told him about.

What would she talk about with someone on a step?

What good memories does she have to keep her going through any of this?

How old was she when she got out the first time?

He holds her hand tighter, wanting to convey everything in it. That he’s sorry, sorry for everything she’s had to endure; that they sent her back into a hell because they couldn’t fix what the Russians had broke.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, breathing shallowly.

“Hey,” Tony’s voice breaks through his melancholy, “hey, let go.”

Gentle hands take his from Natasha’s, and he realises from the redness just how hard he’s been gripping it.

“She’s going to be okay,” Tony tells him, repositioning her hands by her side.

Unconvinced, Steve stands, joins Clint, and leaves Tony with Natasha, pain holding his heart as he looks back tentatively, wondering if things can ever be okay again.

#whumptober2022 #no.15 #emotional damage #marvel fic #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #natasha romanoff fic #clint barton fic #natasha romanoff #clintasha #black widow #clint barton #my fic #hawkeye #clintasha fanfiction #tony stark #red room #black widows

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scar-lie · 9 months

Text

My Wife [Natasha]

I DO COMMISSION JUST DM ME FOR THE INFO

Summary : Y/N the adoptive daughter of Clint Barton got rejected multiple time by the Black Widow, the best friend of his dad

Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x Fem ! Reader

Warning : Cursing, depression

Word count : 5059

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

"Here she is....AAAAHHHHH HERE'S MY WIFE." You beam while jumping up and down a little bit once you get up from the couch, pointing to Natasha, who just entered the living room from her room.

A series of laughs, especially from your father, Clint, who is happy to see you with this enthusiasm just by Natasha walking into the same room as you are, already gives you so much joy that it hurts to think to himself

"Arghh........please Y/N, I'm not your wife," Natasha groaned, going to the kitchen that's attached to the living room and getting a glass of white wine.

Pfff, yes, you are, even though I haven't put the ring on those beautiful, slender fingers of yours. You're my wife already........I know it," you said with a giggle, then ran to her.

"Stop, please, Y/N, I'm not your wife nor your girlfriend; for god's sake, I'm way older than you." You just ignored her sentence and hugged her from behind. Since she's taller than you, you cuddled your face on her back.

"Y/N," she sighs, taking your arms around her and pushing you gently.

"Come on, don't make your wife sad and pouty." You pout and give her puppy eyes, but she just rolls her eyes. She's already annoyed and already at her limit, but she just controls herself so she doesn't snap at you.

Natasha is already pissed and stressed by the paperwork. Fury gave it to her yesterday, and she still has one pile of it that needs to be done by tomorrow. This makes her beyond pissed, so your teasing and calling her wife makes her irritated, and the teasing by the team didn't help.

"Come on, Nat, don't make your little missy sad and pouty. Tony teases with a smirk and wiggles his eyebrows when Natasha's eyes and Tony's meet while you look over your shoulder and wink at them. That makes me giggle more.

"Nat, don't make my daughter, or should I say your wife, sad and pouty; you're going to regret it," Clint, your father, teases while drinking beer, and Natasha looks at him in disbelief.

'Seriously, you're pairing your daughter with me, your best friend, who's 15 years older than her?! ' Natasha asked herself and huffed.

Seriously, Clint, that's your daughter for god's sake," Natasha said in disbelief, and the team laughed while you just smiled at her innocently, hands held together in front of you, swayed your top body from right to left, and looked up at her eyes, and she scoffed.

"Argh....I don't have time for your bullshit," she spat, and she just left with her PB&J and her white wine, going back to her room.

"Another time," you whisper to yourself, a little hurt, then go back to joking with the team.

—

You're brushing your hair in front of your mirror on the vanity table while drying it. The only thing that's covering your naked body is your undergarment underneat the towel wrapped around your chest down to your mid-thighs when there's a knock on your door.

"Come in!" You shout with one closed eye, drying your front upper hair. That's when you saw Natasha enter your room in her black sexy dress, revealing her upper boobs and hugging her figures.

This makes you smile widely. Seeing your wife—well, not technically, but for you, she's your wife—wearing this beautiful dress and coming to your room here in the compound makes you flutter, so I put down the hair dryer, then turn around my chair, flashing her my wide smile.

"Arghh......will you cut that fucking grin of yours? You look creepy," she spat, but you ignored it and stood up, still smiling.

"Did you dress for me? Awww, you should inform me that we're going on a date." You fake pout, then run to her and hug her.

"Argh, get off of me, and no, I'm not going out with you; I'm here because I have something to tell you." Then she pushes you away, then crosses her arms across her chest, which makes her boobs get bigger, so I smirk and wiggle my eyebrows.

"Aww are you going to confess to me? That's sweet, but no need; I told you you were my wife, so it's—" she quickly cut me off with a harsh tone.

"No, and I'm here to tell you to stop calling me your wife; I am not, and stop going around and telling people that you're my wife because that's a lie," she said with gritted teeth and piercing angry eyes, looking at your soul.`

"I'm. Not. Your. Wife...............I don't fucking like you, your just a young woman who seeks attention to everybody, you're ruining everything, even my date, you little shit, just accept the fact that I'm not into you, you little attention seeker, she spat, the anger of her now spilling out, and this makes you shrink.

"You're out of my league; for God's sake, I don't need nor want a burden like you in my life, so fucking stop, you people's pleaser, bullshit!" she screams and gets out of your room, slamming the door shut on the way.

You just stand there, looking at the wall in front of you where she was previously standing, and a single tear falls down, followed by another tear. You're breathing heavily, and the towel around you makes you feel like it's trapping you tightly.

So you take it off, throw it away somewhere in your room, and start to claw your throat down your chest, crumble down on the floor, and crawl backwards until your bare back gets contact with your bed.

"Air... air...I-I....ne-need air," you rasp out, breathing heavily. Your neck and chest already have an angry red line, and you keep kicking the floor and squirming in your seat.

"Air......" Tears stream down your face as you try to get as much air as you can, but then there's another knock on your door.

"Y/N/N? Honey, are you alright? I heard some noises." Your Dad knocks, waiting for your response, but that didn't come; instead, a series of noises like someone keeping banging the wall or floor

"Honey?" Clint grows worried, so he quickly opens the door and finds you on the floor, gasping for air.

"Honey, oh god, breathe, baby, breathe," he said, taking you in his arms, holding you tightly, and putting your head on his chest.

"Listen to my heart and follow my breathing, baby," and Clint takes deep breaths while rubbing your back until your breathing is back to normal. Because of what happened, your body gives up, and you fall asleep in your father's embrace.

—

After what happened, you still call Natasha your wife, and this makes Natasha pissed off every time; even seeing your face already pissed her off. Of course, your father, Clint, didn't know what happened that night; all he knew was that you had a panic attack.

You don't want to cause any trouble between your Dad and his best friend, slash your ultimate crush—no, you've fallen for them—so you just make excuses and lie about the panic attack almost every night so you wouldn't cause any chaos on the team.

"Are you ready?" your father asked you when you came into the living room, bags in your hands.

"Yeah, I think all of my things are packed." You give him a sweet smile, so he nods.

"Ok, let's go; we're heading out now, guys. Bye." You two said your goodbyes to the team and waved at them. You turned around to go to the Quinjet but stopped when one voice bid them farewell.

"See you next week." You both looked back and saw Natasha just entering the living room.

"Yeah, see you next week, my wife." You wiggle your eyebrows again, and she instantly rolls her eyes, already pissed.

"Just get out of my hair for god's sake," she mumbled to herself, which no one heard, but you read her lips, so you just smiled at her.

"Don't miss me too much, ok? I'll just be gone for a week. Now be careful, my wife." You bid your good-bye with your father to Natasha and go to the quinjet, going home to your family that you missed.

—

A week and days go by, but Clint still hasn't come back to the compound with you, but the team understands when Clint informs them that he or you two can't come back just yet.

Well, you're not really a part of the Avengers (Your father didn’t let you just yet), but you grew up with them since Clint adopted you when they saw you—a 14-year-old girl trapped in a cell of a Hydra facility—so they took care of you, and Clint and Laura adopted you.

"Clint?" The two married couples look at the doorway when they hear a knock on the door followed by Natasha's voice.

"Nat? What are you doing here?" Clint asked once he opened the door, stepping aside to let Natasha get inside his house.

But Natasha quickly frowned, and then she got greeted with pure silence; not even Lila, Cooper, and Nathaniel greeted her, especially you, who show enthusiasm when you see her, but no, it's a complete silence, like only Clint or Laura are the only people in the house.

"Nat," Laura greeted her with a hug, and she returned it.

"What are you doing here? Not that I don't want you here," Clint said, and they sat on the couch while Laura made coffee.

"I'm worried; it's nearly two weeks and you and Y/N still haven't stepped foot in the compound." Clint looked back over his shoulder at his wife, and they exchanged looks.

"What? What is it?" Natasha quickly asked, knowing that something was definitely wrong.

"Clint." Laura nods at Clint as her husband sighs.

"It's Y/N." Then he stands up.

"Follow me." Natwsha quickly stood up, and she followed her best friend with her heart pumping.

"I don't know how you will react, but hold yourself together," Clint said, and with that, they opened your bedroom door, and there you are, laying in your bed, back facing them.

"What about her?" Natasha asked, seeing that there's nothing wrong but you're just lying down in your bed.

Clint nods at Nat towards you, so she walks around your bed just to find you, looking at the wall blankly, eye bags under your eyes; you're smaller, and now you're skinny as she last saw you, and you didn't hold a single emotion; it's all blank.

She gasps at it and steps her foot back, shocked at what she saw—the once-held beauty of a beautiful smile and the spark in your eyes every time she sees you are long gone.

This isn't what she expects when she steps foot on the farm. The first time she steps foot on the Barton's resident, she feels something isn't right.

Because every time she would pay a visit, even if she was far away, you could sense it and quickly run to her and greet her with a warm hug.

She should know better to know something is definitely wrong from the first time she feels something's not right, which was a week ago, two days after that night.

"Hey...Y/N?" Natasha whispers, slowly walking towards you and crouching down to your level.

Natasha bites her lower lips when she doesn't get any reaction or a single move out of you; you're just there, laying down, looking into nothing.

"Y/N/N... he-hey...please look at me," Natasha whispered, softly touching your arm, but still nothing. She bit her lips harder and looked at Clint, and the couple just shook their heads.

"Clint, tell me, Natasha begged, walking towards them, so Clint pulled her out of the room and closed the door.

"I don't know Nat, I-" Clint sighs, closing his eyes. It breaks him to see his daughter like this.

"It's just one day she's like that," Laura continued, eyes full of worry and sadness.

"When we got home, she was so jolly, and then after two days, she's just like that. I should have known that something was wrong the first time I noticed she was so jolly." Clint holds his wife's hand tightly, and Laura squeezes it back.

"What? What do you mean, Clint?" Natasha grows so anxious that she starts to rub her hand on her jeans.

"She has depression, Nat; she always has." Natasha gasps at hearing the new information and looks back at your closed door.

"It's my fault," she whispered to herself, tears running down her cheeks.

"I want to stay.......here?" She looked at the couple and wiped her tears.

"Until Y/N is better.....please" She clenches her hand with her nail digging into her palm, and the couple sigh, nodding.

—

Since the day Natasha knew about you, she has stayed by your side and refused to leave you. She will tell you how beautiful the weather is or how beautiful the night sky is. She will also tell you stories and read books while she lies beside you, but mostly she's hugging you tightly. When the night comes, once your eyes are closed, her tears run down, wetting your pillow, and she quietly sobs while hugging you tightly, telling you how sorry she was.

"Y/N/N, I have some of your favorite Y/F/S," Natasha beams, entering your room, and she sees you there, sitting up on your bed, which makes her stop.

Y/N-," she quickly runs to you, puts the snacks on your bedside table, and helps you up because she knows you always lose balance.

"Going to the bathroom?" You just shook your head and pointed to the window.

Out," you whisper in horse, and this surprises Natasha, because after weeks of trying to make you say a single word or a letter, you finally spoke, but she quickly gets out of her trace and nods happily.

Ok." With that, she helped you go out and sit in the rocking chair.

"Wh-what do you want to do?" Natasha asked carefully, looking at your side profile.

You didn't answer back; instead, you just looked at the dogs playing in the field—the three dogs you love, and one of them is the one you saved from the explosion.

"Ok, I'll just get us snacks and drinks." With that, Natasha left with a little smile on her face.

You've been improving for over 3 weeks; you've improved a lot more than the first time she saw you; you've been eating at least 2 times a day, even if it's just a few spoonfuls of food; you've been starting to acknowledge your surroundings, answering them with a nod or shook of your head; your pale skin is now gaining color; and now, you want to get up and go out to look outside, which is a kind of big step in your stage.

"Ok, here are the snacks," Natasha said, resting the snacks and drinks on the table. You look at her and nod.

Thanks," she smiled, nodding at you.

"You're welcome" and means that you start to eat the snacks little by little.

"Ca-can..." you whisper and grab a drink. Natasha waits until you take a sip of water.

"Can...you tell me a story?" She smiles and nods, happy that you're finding some comfort in her stories.

"Of course." With that, she starts another story of her life before they meet you and rescue you.

In some point you're loving the stories she's telling you, specially when she tell you the stories of her sister Yelena in the Red Room, you even request it to her to tell you stories with Yelena in Red Room, you don't know but knowing someone suffer the same pain and having a similar backstories/past is bringing you comfort, that your not the only one who go through it all

But for Natasha, she doesn't want to share it; she still struggles to open up about her past. It's hard for her, but seeing you wanting to know it and the feeling of getting it out without judgment feels too good, so she learns to open up to you and let herself be vulnerable.

Slowly, you're getting better, and sometimes you're smiling too. You're joining them at the dining table and listening to their jokes. You even join them on movie nights. Either your siblings will cuddle you or Natasha.

"Dinner's ready!" Laura shouts, smiling that her eldest daughter is starting to go back to them again.

Hey, dinner's ready; do you want to eat now or later?"Natasha asked, looking at your side profile while you looked up at the calm night sky with various stars and your eyes sparkling while watching.

"Let's go." You look at her and nod, so you two go to the dining table and see everybody already sitting there, waiting for you two.

"Sissy, look, it’s your favorite," Lila said with a smile and pointed to the dish, so you smiled at her.

"Yeah, it is, thanks mom," you smile at Laura, and she stops herself to shed a tear and nod at you.

"You're welcome, my sweetheart." With that, you all pray and start eating while joking around.

D-dad," you giggle for the first time, and all of them look at you with shock and a smile on their faces.

"Yo-you..." you smile and point to his chest.

"You have crust on your chest," you say, and he looks down and gasps dramatically.

"Oh, silly me, hahaha.......I'm such a clumsy person," he mocks one of those girls in the movie who acted in such a precious move, and this makes you giggle more.

"My wife's giggling." Natasha can't help but miss how enthusiastic you are around her, especially when you call her your wife. She misses it, and deep down in her, she likes it—no, she loves it; she just doesn't want to admit it.

But this causes your smile to drop, and you look down on your food and take a small bite. With this, they all look at you, and Natasha grows worried, already regretting what she said.

"I'm not your wife," you coldly reply, and Natasha's heart clenches, so she just nods and tries not to show how hurt she is.

Now she knows how it feels to be rejected, and now she knows that this feeling is always lingering on her every day, hour, or minute, and it hurts her like hell.

"Oh...so-sorry-" she said, getting cut off when you stood up to leave.

"Wait, where are you going, honey?" Clint asked, standing up and going around the table.

"Up to my room." You refuse the help of your father and go up to your room by yourself.

This makes Natasha shrink in her seat, look down on her food, and clench her hand that's holding the utensil.

I-I. I'm sorry, Clint.....I-I fucked up again," Natasha whispered, and she quickly stood up to leave before anyone in the family could say a word.

"Nat wait—" Clint got stopped by his wife.

"Let her be for now, Clint; she needs space." Clint looks at his wife, worried. They both know how guilty Natasha is of what she had done before, and Natasha thinks she deserves to be blamed even though the couple didn't blame her.

She just needs something to hold on to to blame, and that's what she chooses; that's her way to cope up and fight for you, and the thought that she fucked up again didn't sit well on her mind; it keeps messing with her head.

Now, you're sitting in your chair, looking out the window, while Natasha takes a ride on her big bike, going as far away from you as she can. She just can't stand to be near you right now, so while she's driving, she keeps wiping her tears until she's out of town and parks at the nearby gas station.

She looks at the empty street and the night sky. She sighs before going inside the store and buying a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and gum.

"Why do you have to be stupid and ruin the best things in your life, Natalia? she hissed to herself once she got out of the store.

going far enough in the gas station with her bike and lighting her cigarette, looking up at the night sky, who shine with the stars

"It is really beautiful," she whispers to herself, only appreciating the night sky now. At first, she doesn't get why people, or specifically you, love looking up at the night sky. Even in the compound, she always finds you at night on the rooftop, laying down with the blanket on the floor and looking up, or at the edge of the building, feet swinging back and forth while looking up.

Now she knows why the silence, the calmness, and the beauty of the night help you and calm you down in times like this and especially make you realize some things you are constantly denying and what you've done and make your mind clear.

After a few sticks of cigarette while looking at the night sky, she starts to feel a raindrop starting to fall down and a thunder sound can be heard in the place, so she quickly steps on the cigarette.

She hops on her bike to go back to Barton's house before the rain gets worse, or at least she wishes, but she's so wrong because she's just driving back for over 5 minutes when the heavy raindrops start to fall down, soaking her wet.

Once she got back, she was drenched from head to toe inside her boots, and it was cold as hell, so she quickly got inside, taking her boots and jacket off.

"Nat?" Natasha stops and looks forward to seeing Clint, Laura, and you sitting on the couch.

"So-sorry about the floor," She whispers, and Laura gives her a towel.

"That's ok, go and dry yourself." She nodded and went upstairs to take a quick warm shower and change into her pajamas. Once she got out of her room, Clint was waiting for her with a crossed arm. At this point, she understands if he wants her to go back to the compound tomorrow morning.

"Clint look," she started, but he cut her off.

"I trust you, Nat; I trust you with Y/N's life; I don't know what I'm going to do; I can't read her; and she refuses every help we offer her; she just wants to be on the couch." Clint looks up at her with pleading eyes.

"Please....try Nat," he said, Nat looking at him hesitantly.

"It's not your fault, Nat; trust me when I say It's not your fault." She shook her head, not believing him.

"You're her light in her dark mind; you're keeping her alive. She saw something in you that saved her. You saved her so many times in any way you could possibly save her." She looked into his eyes with teary eyes.

"I want my Y/N back, the jolly one. But you're the only one who can bring her back. Please, Nat '' Nat plays with her tongue on her right inner cheek while nodding.

"I'll try..." With that, she composes herself and goes down where you are, passing Laura on the way.

"Hey...Y/N/N?" she asked softly, like the first time you look over your shoulder for a second and go back looking at the movie playing in front of you with the lowest volume, so she sat beside you.

"Can you tell me your story again, the one with Yelena?" you asked, still looking at the TV.

"Yeah, ok." Natasha sighs and starts to tell you her story of how the Red Room is programmed and how she needs to fight for her and Yelena.

"What happened to Yelena?" Natasha can't find a word, not a single one; she just shuts her mouth. She doesn't know how to answer your question.

Even though she and her sister are reunited and in a good relationship, she just can't accept the fact that she escaped the Red Room without her, so she just leaves Yelena alone.

"I-she..." she said, looking down on her hand.

"Did you leave with her?" She could feel your gaze on her, so she closed her eyes and shook her head.

"No," Natasha looked up to you, but you shook your head, going back to watch the movie. Natasha thought it was her cue to leave you alone, so she stood up and turned around to leave.

"I am her," you said while still watching, and Natasha looked back at you with a frown.

"What?" She waited for you to talk again, now facing you.

"I am Yelena," you whisper, fidgeting your hand, so Natasha sat beside you again, looking closely at your side profile.

"I was left behind too..............by my older sister," Natasha gasped, biting her lips.

"She left me behind the four walls of the cell in Hydra...............she just used me to get her way out there." You look at Natasha for a second and go back to the movie. Natasha is shocked to learn this story.

No one on the team, even your parents, knows this; all they know is that you're the only one left alive from the Hydra experiments; they didn't know that you have a sister.

"Wh-what happened to her?" Natasha wants to hold you, but she doesn't know if you want that.

"I don't know, but one day when I'm in training, they just throw her dead body in front of me, telling me that I will end up the same as my sister if I try to escape." You stand up and go outside on the porch, so Natasha follows you behind.

"I don't know what I should feel.........I'm-......I'm not allowed to feel anything." You start to go down the stairs of the porch.

"Y/N, wait, no, you're going to get yourself soaked." Natasha tries to get you back to the porch, but you're already down on the grass, where your body is starting to get soaked.

"I didn't know that I was bottling it up..........I don't know what feelings or emotions are." Natasha doesn't have any choice, so she follows you.

"Until I meet you and the team..........you all show me what emotion is." You stop in the middle of the field, 30 feet away from your house, and the fact that you're starting to shiver makes Natasha notice it, so she grows worried.

Y/N, you're going to get sick; please let's get back." She stands beside you. You smile, looking up and letting the raindrop fall on your face.

"And I hate it............" You look at her with teary eyes and a smile.

"At first, because that's where I start to feel the grief, betrayal, guilt, sadness, loneliness, depression, and how much of a monster I am—" your tears start to roll down your eyes, but even if they're running down your checks with the raindrop, Natasha knew you're crying.

"Y/N" Natasha is going to hug you, but she stops when you talk again.

"But I am grateful and happy because... over my entire life, I finally know and feel what happiness is and what love means." That's when Natasha hugs you, rubbing your back.

"But it's too much......I don't want to feel it anymore. It hurts." You sob on her shoulder.

Natasha's own tears roll down her cheeks while she shushing you, holding you, and comforting you while you sob, letting go of every emotion you bottled up.

"Let it all out, baby. Let it all out. I'm here. I'm not going to leave. Just let it all out." Natasha whispers in your ear while you hold on to her shirt tightly like your life depends on it.

"I hate it." Your sob subsides a little, and you tuck your head on her neck, already tired, and keep whispering, 'I hate it.

"I know...shhh, I know. I know, love. I know," she whispers, running her hand over your hair.

"Help me," you whisper, looking up at her eyes, so when she meets your eyes, she smiles and nods, happy that you're opening yourself to her and letting her in.

"I will.....I will be by your side every step of the way. Ok, cause I love you so much. I'm not going to leave you, ok?" your lips starting to quiver while looking up at her eyes.

"You love me?" A spark in your eyes didn't go unnoticed by Natasha, and she smiled, nodding.

"Of course, I'm your wife, and I'm going to put a ring on those gorgeous fingers someday." Natasha kissed your forehead, and she saw Clint running in your direction with two towels and one umbrella.

"Now let's go inside; you're shivering. You're going to get cold." You again buried your face on her chest while shaking your head, making her chuckle.

"But I like the rain," and that's when Clint quickly put the umbrella under your heads.

"Oh my god.......I thought something happened to the both of you!" Clint exclaimed, putting the umbrella he's using between his shoulders and checking while wrapping the towel around the both of you.

Dad," and you hug him, so he hugs you back tightly; it's been a while since he's been able to hug you.

"Let's go home now, sweetheart." With that, Clint wrapped his arm around your shoulder and led you and Natasha back to the house.

—

Since then Natasha always with you, she still read you book, tell you stories and help you every ups and downs on your life, she even take you for a ride every now and then, going into different places where she knows you will love and she even give you flowers even if she just steal some on the garden of your parents or someone else

With the help of your now-lover and your family, the team is constantly visiting you, and you've healed from a big rough patch.

Hey, you leave me for a sec there? "You snapped out of your thoughts, looking at your girlfriend for over 6 months now, who's been lying beside you in your sahred bed, in your shared bedroom; it's actually Natasha's bedroom, but she insists that you should move in, so every time you're in the compound, your room is Natasha's.

"Sorry" you whisper with a shy smile.

"That's ok, my love." She smiled, then started to tickle you.

"It's a tickle monster," she said, and she started to tickle your stomach, which made you squeal and try to get out of her grip.

"St-stop Natty... please," you laugh out loud, pushing her hand away.

"What? I can't hear you!"You scream when her fingers start to tickle your most ticklish spot, which is your armpit.

"NAAATTYYYY!" You scream, and she suddenly stops looking down at you, and you pant heavily.

"You ok?" she asked, taking a deep breath to get some needed air.

"Yeah," you look up and giggle, then her dementor changes; she looks like she is thinking deeply while examining your face structure.

"Nat?" you whisper, putting your hand on her right check. She sighs and leans on your hand.

"You look like an angel, my darling, and I really love you so much," she whispered, kissing your palm and laying down beside you, pulling you in so now your back is facing her, cuddling, her being the big spoon and you're the small spoon.

"And I really love you too, my big bear," You whisper, hugging her arm that's wrapped around your waist.

#natasha #natasha romanoff #Natasha Romanova #natasha marvel #natasha alianovna romanova #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female #clint barton #Avengers #Avenger #avangers #mcu marvel avengers #marvel black widow #marvel

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libraryofgage · 4 months

Text

Addams Family B-Side (3)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two (on the way!) Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

Did I already post today? Yes. Did I also post two chapters of Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins today? Yes. I am just incredibly productive today, who knows when it's gonna happen again lol

Anyway, finally! The next B-Side! This bitch has been stewing my guys, so I hope you enjoy it lol

There are two memes at the very end of this one, so definitely stick around

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't 😘

--------

For four weeks, Eddie feels himself losing his mind. He finds gifts in his locker every other day, and he's convinced they're from Steve Harrington. He now has a taxidermied bat, a fancy-looking vial with a skull and crossbones embossed in the glass and filled with mysterious liquid, an actual human skull that Eddie immediately incorporates into his next campaign, and a spider. An actual spider. A live spider that, after a little research, he learns is a fucking Black Widow that seems unnaturally friendly.

Eddie can't stress that part enough. Multiple people have mistaken the spider for an intricate vest patch because it just sits perfectly still over his chest pocket. It only moves to rub its head against Eddie's fingers whenever his hand passes over it, and even then it's careful to avoid hurting him with its pincers.

He names her Nox.

Those aren't the only gifts he's received, but they're the most notable, and Eddie is overwhelmed and flustered by the positive attention he's suddenly receiving.

The other thing driving him crazy is Pubert Addams, a guy Eddie had never paid much attention to before but now considers his mortal enemy. He's convinced Pubert is, at worst, potentially abusive or, at best, delusional and taking advantage of Steve's kindness and inability to brutally turn him down. Or maybe Eddie is the crazy one; he doesn't actually know. Whichever it is, Eddie is ready to take the very nice dagger he now has (gift number 15; yes, Eddie has been counting) and stab him with it.

Because he can't get more than two minutes alone with Steve before Pubert appears out of nowhere. Eddie runs into Steve in the hall while everyone else is in class? Pubert shows up with a hall pass two seconds later and literally waltzes Steve away from him. Eddie finds Steve camped out in the library during study hall? Pubert materializes in the chair next to Steve before Eddie can sit down, leaning far too close as he asks Steve to explain something from their shared Gothic Literature class. Eddie, by some miracle, is behind Steve in the lunch line (and he calls this a miracle because Steve always brings his lunch in a pink box with black skulls, which Eddie considers incredibly brave of him to carry around like it's nothing)? Before Eddie can do more than say hi and get a blinding smile in return, Pubert fucking Addams shows up and drags Steve away while promising to share his lunch.

Eddie is just about to lose the last shred of patience he's struggling to maintain when Steve finds him. Ironically, it's the same bathroom where they first talked, the one with mysterious mold growing in the corner that Eddie is convinced is some new species. It's the only bathroom with a busted smoke detector, and Eddie goes there to get high during his free period.

He's halfway through a joint, smoke curling around him as he sits on the sink counter and tries not to think about what else has been there, when the door swings open, Steve walks in, and Eddie chokes on his inhale.

"Don't die like this," Steve says, stepping closer and patting Eddie's back like they know each other, "It's no fun."

Eddie finally gets himself under control, taking a deep breath and wincing at the way his lungs burn. "No worries," he croaks out, regretting the departure of Steve's hand on his back. "What are you doing here? Please don't tell me you plan to use this bathroom."

"As curious as I am about the bacteria teeming on these toilet seats, no." Steve sounds genuine, like he really does want to swab the toilet seats and see what grows. Instead, he places his bag on the sink and pulls out a familiar vial with a familiar skull and crossbones. "I just came to drink."

"Oh?" Eddie says, leaning forward with a grin. He looks Steve up and down, taking in the pale blue sweater vest and immaculately pressed jeans. "You don't look the drinking type, Stevie."

Steve hums, popping the cork out of the vial and taking a swig from it. "This isn't exactly hard stuff," he says after he swallows, distracted enough that Eddie thinks he misses his eyes lingering on Steve's throat as it bobs.

"Just beer then?"

"What?" Steve asks, looking at Eddie like he's delusional. "No, it's cyanide and vinegar."

He says it with such conviction that Eddie believes him despite knowing cyanide is poison. "Metal," he says, looking away to take another drag of his joint as he struggles to break through his own awkwardness and hold a conversation that will somehow sweep Steve off his feet and make him forget all about Pubert Addams.

Before he can think of something clever and smooth and funny, Steve leans close and raises a hand to his chest. Eddie is about to warn him that Nox is, in fact, real when the spider scuttles onto Steve's fingers and settles in his palm. She does a little up-and-down motion, circles in his hand twice, and rubs her head against his wrist. "You've been taking good care of her," Steve says.

"Uh, yeah. How is she not biting you right now?" Eddie asks, remembering all the times Nox has warningly snapped at others who tried to touch her.

Steve snorts and allows Nox to return to her spot on Eddie's vest. "I raised her," he says, his tone casual like he isn't admitting to showering Eddie with inexplicable gifts for the past four weeks, "of course, she won't bite me."

"So, it has been you," Eddie replies, wanting to hear it from Steve himself.

With a soft hum, Steve takes another sip from his bottle. "Who else would it have been?"

Eddie licks his lips, takes another drag of his joint to brace himself, and hops off the counter. "So, uh, does that mean you li--"

Before the rest of the question can be asked, the bathroom door swings open again, and Eddie feels his eye twitch as Pubert Addams frowns at them. "So, this is where you were," he says, walking over to Steve and putting an arm around his shoulders.

"I told you I was going to the bathroom," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he stuffs the vial back into his bag.

Pubert looks Eddie over, a derisive huff escaping him as he dismisses Eddie and looks at Steve. "On the other side of the school? Really?" he asks, and Eddie would be overthinking what that means if he weren't sure his veins were about to burst.

"We were talking, you know," Eddie says, gaining Pubert's attention again. Steve looks at him, too, his eyes a little brighter.

"I'm sure," Pubert replies, rolling his eyes as he takes Steve's bag. "And now we're leaving." With that, he leads Steve out of the bathroom, the door swinging shut before Steve can do more than smile apologetically and wave.

Anger surges through Eddie, and the shaky drag he takes to finish off his joint does absolutely nothing to soothe it.

He's going to kill Pubert Addams.

--------

Funnily enough, Steve's mother doesn't learn about his crush until he's five weeks into it. When Debbie finally does discover the crush, it's because she walks in on Fester and Steve decorating homemade cookies shaped like anatomically correct hearts. She pauses in the doorway, looking between the two covered in flour and raspberry jam, and asks, "What on earth is going on here?"

Steve looks up, sees this as his chance to finally tell Debbie, and smiles brightly at her. "I'm in love, Mother. He's allergic to raspberry, and Father agreed to help me make him cookies with raspberry filling, so he can feel the same breathlessness I do when I see him," he explains, using his thumb to wipe raspberry jam off his cheek.

Debbie stares at him for a few seconds before looking at Fester. "How long have you known?" she asks.

"Five weeks," Fester admits, looking apologetic. "I wanted to tell you, Pumpkin! But Steve asked me not to so he could tell you himself."

She sighs and walks over to the island, sitting on the edge of a stool and taking one of the cookies for herself. She bites off a pulmonary vein, looking thoughtful as she chews. "I must admit, these are damn good cookies," she finally says, taking one more bite before passing it to Fester to finish. "Tell me about him."

And Steve does. He gushes about Eddie for a solid hour without taking a single breath, spilling everything he's seen Eddie do and how he's reacted to all of Steve's gifts and how he gets so obviously jealous when Pubert butts into their conversations. He tells Debbie about Eddie not screaming when he saw Nox, about him selling drugs, and about his interest in music. Steve laments his hair but eagerly describes the treatment routine he already has in mind.

By the time he's done, the cookies are decorated and his mother's expression has grown a little pained. "Steve, darling, come with me," she says, getting up from the chair and leading him out of the kitchen while Fester starts to clean up.

Steve waits until Debbie has brought him to her spare room to ask, "Did I do something wrong?"

"Well, did you remember my rules about crushes?"

"Yeah. I've talked to him a lot."

Debbie smiles and brings Steve over to the bed, sitting him down and straightening his hair before perching next to him. "Then, you're not in trouble, but you've been going about this all wrong, dear."

"Should I tell Pubert to stop making Eddie jealous?"

"Absolutely not," Debbie says, shaking her head firmly. "In fact, he could try harder. Nothing gets to a man like someone he can't have, especially if he thinks they're in distress."

Steve blinks, frowning slightly as he tries to figure out where, exactly, he's gone wrong. Eddie seems perfectly enamored with him, after all, and Pubert's goading is encouraging his affections, which is the only reason Steve has allowed it to continue. "Did I give him a live spider too soon?" Steve asks, figuring that's the problem here.

"No, that's not...," Debbie trails off, mutters something about Fester being an idiot, and clears her throat. "Steve, your father is the last person you should approach for love advice."

"But...you agreed to marry him, so he must have done something right," Steve says.

Debbie barks a laugh, waving her hand dismissively. "I married your father for his money. I attempted to kill his entire family and only stopped when he promised to give me everything I asked for. I would hardly call him a casanova."

Steve nods along, smiling a little as she speaks. He's heard their great love affair many times, but he doesn't get tired of it. "But you actually love him anyway, right? Father says it's because he showered you with gifts. So, that's what I'm doing."

"I...do love your father," Debbie admits, sighing as though she doesn't know how that happened either. "But it's less because of his gifts and more because...he gave me the devotion I wanted. Anyway, if you learn anything from us, it should be that love comes second."

"What comes first?"

Debbie smiles, the expression positively devious, and Steve can't help returning it. "Obsession," she says, her shoulders rolling back some as pride fills her. "Occupy his every waking thought. Make yourself irresistible. Make him dream of you at night. Overwhelm him with desire until he simply must act on it."

"Oh," Steve says, thinking of how his father acts around Debbie and realizing that obsession never quite went away. But it's worked out well for them, and he knows his mother has experience with luring men into her arms. He nods once and asks, "So, what should I do?"

"I'm so glad you asked," Debbie says, her smile bright and her eyes filled with excitement. "You'll have Eddie falling to his knees before you in no time."

--------

Eddie didn't think it could get worse. He was already attracted to Steve, already distracted by every little movement.

He was wrong. So incredibly wrong.

Because here he is, his mouth dry and his palms sweaty and his cheeks warm because of Steve. He's not even doing anything. Well, that's not true. Steve is curling his tongue around a lollipop before sucking it into his mouth like he'll die without it. But it's more than that. It's the painted-on jeans that hug his legs; it's the pastel pink hoodie (with little bats on the cuffs) that rides up whenever Steve moves to show off a strip of skin just above his waistband; it's the way he finishes the lollipop and pulls out lipgloss, casually telling Pubert it's raspberry flavored as he puts it on.

Eddie swallows around the dryness in his mouth, gripping his locker door so tight that his knuckles turn white as he looks inside it. Sitting innocently on top of everything is a Tupperware container of cookies with raspberry filling (according to the label), and Eddie is ready to eat one just so he can die knowing what Steve's lips taste like.

That's not even the worst of it. The worst is that Steve transfers into Eddie's Music Theory class, smiling innocently while the teacher introduces him and then directs him to sit at the empty desk next to Eddie. When he's close, Eddie realizes Steve smells like cookies and cream ice cream, and he's tempted to ask if Steve smells like his favorite flavor on purpose.

The teacher saves him from the embarrassment of blurting out the question by announcing a project. The teacher then dooms him by telling everyone they're required to work with their desk neighbor. Eddie grips his pen tightly when the teacher tells them to spend the rest of their class time discussing the project.

"So," Steve says, getting Eddie's attention. When he looks over, Steve is leaning forward on his desk, chin propped in his hand as he looks at Eddie. "Want to come over to my place after school? To work on the project, I mean."

Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds, his tongue stuck in his throat. To his credit, Steve doesn't say anything or call Eddie out for staring at him. He just waits patiently with a little smile curling his lips. Eddie finally clears his throat, his voice coming out a little strained when he says, "Yeah, sure, sounds good. After school. Your place. Project."

Smooth. Real smooth.

When Steve just smiles wider and stretches his arms above his head, pulling his hoodie up, while suggesting they do the project on the evolution of heavy metal music, Eddie realizes he's probably going to die after school.

He can't wait.

-------

Tag List (I think there's still room for a few more people ^_^)

@estrellami-1, @itsall-taken, @mugloversonly, @fandomcartographer, @hippielittlemetalhead, @agree2disagre-kicks, @ledleaf, @just-a-tiny-void, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @ink1177, @maya-custodios-dionach, @littlebluejane, @steddieonbigboy, @ravenpainter, @read-write-thrive, @deadontheinside20, @yeahhhh-suga, @nectandra, @mogami13, @mx-jinxous, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @xoxoladyclara

@zaddipax, @dycte, @breealtair, @geekymagicalpotato, @janea-grill, @juliasthename-adhdismygame, @yikes-a-bee, @wayward-people, @st-fics, @disrespectedgoatman, @bipusssy, @cottagecorebutnaturescaresme, @nightowl14028018, @that-binchh, @your-confused-friend, @irethsune, @goosesister, @strawberryyyenthusiast, @irregular-child, @theverywest

And, finally, a two-for-one meme special because I couldn't decide which was funnier:

#steddie #steddie fic #addams family b side #addams! steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #pubert addams #fester addams #debbie jellinsky #steve deserves good parents actually #my writing #sorry it's been so long the inspiration took a while to hit for this one hfdjks

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