#m: black widow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

huggingkoalas · 14 hours

Text

is this hatred? or love? part 1

pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader

synopsis what happens when you have to share a bed with your enemy?

word count 2.9k

warnings fluff, teasing, gunshot wounds, pet names (sweetheart, love), one bed trope, enemies to lovers, they’re both so in denial it makes me want to bang my head against the wall

author’s note haven’t had the time to write in a long time. i honestly had a lot of fun writing this, natasha being the most annoying fucking tease is the biggest headcannon to me <3

navigation main masterlist | request guidelines | about me

“Need a hand, dorogaya (sweetheart)?”

“Shut up, Romanoff.”

“If you say so.”

With your dominant hand pressed firmly against your wounded abdomen to stem the bleeding, your other hand trembled as it swiped the card through the reader. Natasha leaned her back casually against the adjacent wall, her boredom thinly veiled by a feigned yawn as the reader emitted its third ‘beep’ of rejection due to your insufficient force.

“We’ll be here all day. Aren’t you supposed to have super soldier serum in your blood?”

“I said shut up.”

With an exasperated scoff, Natasha snatched the card out of your hand. She forcefully swiped it through the reader, the satisfying click of the door unlocking echoing in the corridor. As the door swung open to reveal the dimly lit motel room, Natasha couldn’t help but grin smugly.

“See? Easy as pie.”

You grunted in response, carefully adjusting your stance to maintain pressure on your wound. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, love.” She replied breezily.

With a nod of appreciation, you stepped through the doorway, a wave of relief washing over you, although the throbbing pain in your abdomen dampened it. Natasha followed suit, closing the door behind her and locking it. She walked past you, her demeanour shifting subtly from teasing to attentive as she scanned the room. Once she familiarised herself with the layout and window exits, she turned back to you, nodding her head to give you the all-clear.

The room looked ordinary like any other hostel room, with neutral-toned walls and simple furnishings. A small table sat in one corner, adorned with a lamp and a few scattered brochures. Across the room, a worn-out armchair stood next to a narrow window, its curtains drawn shut to block the dim city lights. On the opposite wall, a modest dresser provided limited storage space, its drawers slightly ajar. Despite its lack of luxury, the room emanated a sense of comfort. As you looked around the unremarkable surroundings, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of gratitude for the simple shelter it provided.

While you were busy surveying the room, Natasha’s attention was on your injured abdomen, a subtle flash of concern in her eyes. The sight of the fresh blood staining your shirt in the brief moments it took to open the door tugged at her heartstrings, even if she would never admit it to you.

“How bad is the wound?” She inquired, pointing a finger towards your abdomen.

You glanced down, noting the slight redness seeping through the fabric and onto your shirt. “Well, I wouldn’t have this wound if someone realised that a HYDRA agent was aiming at them.” You retorted.

Natasha smirked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Hey, it’s not my fault they can’t resist taking a shot at me, I’m irresistible.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle despite the ache in your side. “Irresistible, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

“Of course.” She shrugged casually, giving you a knowing look. “I honestly think we both attract trouble wherever we go. It's probably the only reason Fury paired the two of the biggest troublemakers on this mission, right? He’s probably having the best day of his life without having to deal with us constantly being at each other’s throats.”

You smirked, acknowledging the truth in her words. “Seems like Fury knows what he’s doing after all.”

“Well, I’d like to think he’s getting some entertainment out of it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Entertainment? More like a headache."

Her smirk softened into a faint smile as she shook her head. “Just because you saved me doesn’t mean that I don’t hate you still.”

“Likewise, Romanoff. Just because we’re being all buddy-buddy right now doesn’t mean I suddenly like you.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. “Good. Wouldn’t want things to get too sentimental, partner.”

You knew that the word ‘partner’ was dripping with teasing and sarcasm. The two of you were anything but cooperative with each other. You both frequently exchanged biting remarks, teasing, and insults. You couldn’t help but wonder what you had done to make her despise you so much. You were nice to her when you joined the Avengers all those years ago, but it always seemed that she harboured a deep dislike for you. When you spoke up in a team meeting, she would scowl and you could always feel her gaze burning a hole in your skull.

In the beginning, you tried to get along with her and be as friendly to her as you were to everyone else. From offering her assistance during training or helping her with her mission reports, nothing you did ever seemed to break the coldness and distance in her heart. You knew she wasn’t the most extroverted person, but you never saw her act that way towards others. Eventually, you gave up and decided it was best to ignore her, just as she had ignored you.

Of course, once you started ignoring her too, Natasha’s behaviour changed. She started teasing and taunting you, finding ways to provoke a reaction from you even when you tried to ignore her. And she kept winning. Her incessant teasing had a way of getting under your skin. It was a frustrating cycle of provocation and reaction. You felt like you were constantly on edge whenever she was around.

But reluctantly, you couldn’t deny that everything had changed during the mission an hour ago. Despite the heated tensions, you both had an unspoken agreement to watch each other’s backs in battle.

As the weight of the moment settled on you, Natasha’s gaze softened, and her concern for your well-being was evident in the depths of her eyes. “But seriously,” she said, her tone changing to genuine concern, “let me help you tend to that wound before it gets infected.”

You shook your head slightly. “It’s okay, I can take care of it myself.”

Her expression tightened slightly, her concern unwavering. “Stubborn as always,” she muttered under her breath.

You met her gaze with a steely resolve. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve handled worse.”

Her lips formed a thin line, showing her frustration. "Think of it as a way of repaying you for helping me.” She insisted, her voice firm.

You knew she wouldn’t give the matter up. The both of you were equally as stubborn as a mule. “Fine.” You relented, offering a nod.

“Great,” Natasha replied, a hint of relief in her tone. “To the bathroom then. I’m sure this motel room has a first aid kit somewhere…”

You and Natasha made your way to the bathroom, her footsteps echoing yours. Silently, you took a seat on the edge of the closed toilet seat. You leaned back against the toilet’s tank, the cool porcelain surface offering a brief respite from the tension in your muscles. She wasted no time in retrieving the first aid kit from the mirror cabinet and moving towards you.

“Take off your shirt,” She instructed, settling the first aid kit on the tiled floor.

Your brows furrowed in surprise at her directive. “W-What?” You stammered, looking down at her with an incredulous look.

Natasha rolled her eyes at your surprise, her patience wearing thin. “Come on, don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be,” she chided, her tone tinged with exasperation. “I can’t clean your wound if you have your shirt on.”

Reluctantly, you began to peel off your shirt cautiously. Each inch revealed the angry red gunshot wound beneath, eliciting a whine as the fabric grazed against your wound. At least you were lucky that the bullet passed through instead of staying inside your body. As more of your skin came into view, Natasha’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. A blush crept onto her cheeks, betraying her normally composed demeanour. Despite her best efforts to maintain her composure, the sight of your exposed skin stirred something within her, igniting a warmth that she couldn’t quite suppress. Quickly, she averted her gaze, busying herself with preparing the first aid supplies. Though she tried to hide it, the flush on her cheeks lingered.

As you finally removed your shirt, Natasha’s expression softened even further. “Thank you for sacrificing yourself for me. It was incredibly stupid, though. ” She murmured, her voice softer now.

“It’s alright, Romanoff.”

“You can call me Natasha, you know. You’re the only one in the team that still calls me by my last name.”

“Alright, Natasha.” Your lips twitched into a small, appreciative smile.

In a comfortable silence, Natasha began to carefully clean the wound with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol, her touch gentle yet precise. The warmth of her fingertips against your skin sent a shiver down your spine. As she worked, you couldn’t help but steal glances at her, admiring the focused expression on her face.

Natasha’s brows furrowed as she delicately dabbed at the wound, her lips forming a thin line. Now and then, she would scrunch her nose up, a small, endearing gesture that softened her usual stoic expression. Despite the pain, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sight of her.

Once the wound was cleaned and dressed, her gaze met yours with a sense of satisfaction. “There,” she said softly, relief in her voice. “All done.”

You offered her a grateful smile, “Thank you.”

A small, genuine smile curved Natasha’s lips as she met your gaze. “Anytime, dorogaya (sweetheart).”

As she rose to her feet, a blush crept onto your cheeks. You were well-acquainted with Natasha’s tendency to use nicknames on you, especially ‘dorogaya’, but it was typically wielded with a teasing edge. This time, however, it wasn’t accompanied by the usual teasing tone. Instead, it carried a genuine warmth that caught you off guard.

“Uh…” You stammered, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest at the unexpectedly sincere endearment. Clearing your throat, you tried to push aside the fluttering in your chest.

Her smile widened at your reaction. “Nervous, are we?”

“Shut up, Natasha.”

She chuckled softly at your retort, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes," she teased, her tone light and playful.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips despite the warmth still lingering in your cheeks. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words.

With a shake of her head, Natasha reached down to offer you a hand. “Come on, let’s get you back on your feet," she said.

You hesitated for a moment, touched by her gesture, before placing your hand in hers. With a steady grip, she helped you to your feet. She moved to the doorway before looking at you over her shoulder. “I’ll let you shower first. Try not to get water on the dressing.”

“Got it.”

With a final nod of acknowledgement, Natasha closed the door behind her, leaving you alone in the quiet of the bathroom. Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you slipped off the rest of your clothes and placed them in a pile with your soiled shirt. A sense of relief washed over you at the prospect of washing away the grime of the day’s events. You turned on the water, allowing the warm cascade to envelop you as you stepped beneath the stream. Despite the lingering ache in your abdomen, the sensation of the water against your skin was soothing, easing the aching tension that had settled in your muscles.

As you stood beneath the spray, you couldn’t help but reflect on the events that led to this moment. Fury had sent you and Natasha on what was supposed to be a routine mission, but as these things often went, it spiralled into chaos. The intel given was faulty, the security stronger than anticipated, and you were in over your heads before you knew it. It was a mission gone wrong, one of those rare instances where even the most meticulous planning couldn’t prevent disaster.

In the aftermath of the debacle, with your injuries sustained and the mission being held in another country, there was no choice but to seek refuge in a motel room for a night before a Quinjet could transport you back to the Avengers Compound. Fury had booked a motel room for you and Natasha, a nondescript haven tucked away from prying eyes. It was a humble accommodation, far removed from the luxuries of the Compound, but at least it provided a temporary sanctuary where you could tend to your wounds without drawing unwanted attention.

As you stood beneath the shower’s warm spray, the mission’s events were still fresh and raw as they replayed in your mind like a relentless loop. The close calls, the split-second decisions, the adrenaline-fueled rush of combat. And yet, despite the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remained constant — Natasha fighting with you side-by-side.

You couldn’t help but marvel at Natasha’s resilience. Her determination even in the face of overwhelming odds. She had saved your life more times than you could count, her skills as an assassin matched only by her unwavering loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D.

However, this time was different. During the mission, the roles had been reversed. In a moment of instinct, you had thrown yourself between Natasha and the gun aimed in her direction, putting your own life on the line to protect hers. The only reason you could think of for making a reckless decision like that was that simple — you couldn’t bear the thought of losing Natasha, even if you hated her with your whole heart. There was no hesitation as you acted on pure instinct, driven by a need to protect her.

As the warm water washed away the physical remnants of the mission, you emerged from the shower. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out of the bathroom, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as the steam-filled air gave way to the coolness of the room.

Immediately, your gaze was drawn to Natasha, who sat on the edge of the bed, her expression a mix of surprise as she took in your appearance. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves at the intensity of her gaze, prompting you to tighten the towel around yourself in a subconscious attempt to shield your modesty.

Finally, Natasha broke the silence. “Sorry for staring. I.. uh-” She faltered for a moment, her words trailing off as she cleared her throat, seemingly struggling to find the right thing to say. “We have a problem. There’s only one bed.”

Her words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for how to respond. You looked down at the singular bed Natasha was sitting on. You couldn’t help but feel a flush of embarrassment colour your cheeks. The prospect of sharing a bed with Natasha added a whole new layer of complexity to your already complicated relationship with her.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Natasha suggested, standing up.

You felt a pang of guilt wash over you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that it wouldn’t be fair for her to sacrifice her comfort for your sake.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You interjected quickly. “You take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor instead.”

Natasha crossed her arms, regarding you with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not being ridiculous. You’re the one that’s injured, you should get the bed instead.”

You shook your head. “I appreciate the concern but I really can’t let you sleep on the floor. We’re both equally exhausted from the mission and besides, you need a good night’s rest too.”

Natasha’s expression softened, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and stubbornness. “I can’t let you sleep on the floor either,” she countered, her voice firm.

You sighed, realizing that neither of you would easily back down from this standoff. “Alright, how about this,” you proposed. “We share the bed. It’s really small, so we’ll have to sleep pressed up against each other, but at least neither of us has to sleep uncomfortably.”

Natasha hesitated for a moment, considering your offer. “Are you sure?” she asked, her tone softening with concern.

“I’m sure.” You nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “Go take a shower. You smell.”

She chuckled softly at your attempt to lighten the mood. “Yes ma’am.”

As Natasha disappeared into the bathroom, you took a moment to collect your thoughts, relieved that the tension between you had dissipated, at least for now. Sharing a bed with her was certainly going to be an… interesting experience.

You reached for the bag you had dropped near the doorway and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. Quickly, you dressed yourself. As you settled into bed, you heard the door open as Natasha emerged from the bathroom. You were facing away from her as you felt the bed dip behind you when she got into bed. Feeling her presence behind you, you turned your head to offer her a small smile.

“Can I… wrap my arm around you? It’s the only way we’ll both fit in this bed.” Natasha remarked, her voice laced with a hint of embarrassment.

You chuckled softly, feeling the tension easing further as you nodded in agreement. “Sure, yeah, go ahead.”

As Natasha shifted closer, her front pressed up against your back and her arm gently encircling your waist, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach at the sudden intimacy. Despite the awkwardness, there was a surprising comfort in the warmth of her touch, and you found yourself relaxing further in her embrace.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Natasha murmured, her breath warm against your ear.

“Goodnight, Natasha.” You replied, a sense of contentment settling over you as you closed your eyes.

navigation main masterlist | request guidelines | about me

#lumi’s fics!#marvel #mcu #the avengers #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #wlw #fanfic #fanfiction

155 notes · View notes

midastouch013 · 2 days

Text

Her Caregiver

TO THE ANON: I'm so sorry, I lost your request, but I hope this meets what you had requested

Summary: Natasha Romanoff has always managed to keep her little secret a secret, but what happens when she gets jealous of how you care for Wanda?

Warnings: Little/Caregiver, Jealousy, Little Nat, Little Wanda

P.S. Sorry for being so late, there was this retreat and there wasn't any reception there. Plus, I'm not sure if this is exactly how Caregiver and Little fics work, but I hope you like it.

---

Natasha Romanoff sat in her room, her gaze drifting towards the stuffed animals arranged neatly on her bed. She had always been drawn to the softness and comfort they provided, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of her life as an Avenger. But there was something deeper behind her fascination with these childish trinkets, something she had never fully acknowledged until now.

She glanced at the door, her heart racing with uncertainty. She had been harboring a secret, one she hadn't dared to share with anyone, not even her closest friends. Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, was a little.

The thought both terrified and excited her. Terrified because she feared judgment and rejection from her peers. Excited because she longed for the care and comfort she had never allowed herself to experience. But most of all, she longed for someone to understand her, to see past the tough exterior she presented to the world.

That someone, she realized, was you.

You, her teammate, her friend, the one person she trusted above all others. She knew you had a kind heart and a gentle touch, qualities she desperately craved in a caregiver. But how could she ever admit such vulnerability to you? How could she risk tarnishing the image of the fearless Avenger you admired?

Natasha sighed, her fingers tracing the edges of a plush bear. She wished she could be brave enough to ask for what she needed, to shed the weight of her secrets and be truly seen. But fear held her back, fear of rejection, fear of ridicule, fear of being deemed unworthy of love.

And so, she buried her desires deep within her heart, locking them away behind walls of steel. But even the strongest barriers couldn't contain the longing in her soul, the ache for connection that refused to be silenced.

And so, a series of events were to set that day, one that would make her have you, as her caregiver, maybe even something more.

In the quiet of the Avengers compound, a sudden disruption shattered the tranquility. Wanda Maximoff stumbled into the common area, her usually composed demeanor replaced by one of vulnerability. Sensing something amiss, you approached her, concern etched across your features.

"Hey, Wanda, what's wrong?" you asked gently, kneeling beside her as she curled up on the couch.

Wanda looked up at you with wide, tear-filled eyes. "I-I don't know," she whimpered softly.

"It's okay, sweetheart. You're safe here," you assured her, offering a comforting smile. "Do you want a blanket?"

She nodded, sniffling, and you quickly fetched a blanket, wrapping it around her trembling form. Wanda leaned into your embrace, finding solace in the warmth you provided.

Meanwhile, Natasha observed from a distance, a pang of envy stirring within her. She watched as you comforted Wanda, offering the kind of care and tenderness that the redhead secretly longed for herself.

As Wanda began to relax under your gentle ministrations, Natasha couldn't help but approach, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Is she okay?" Natasha inquired softly, her eyes flickering between you and Wanda.

"Yeah, she just slipped into her little space," you explained, shooting Natasha a reassuring smile. "She'll be alright, though."

Natasha nodded, but the jealousy still gnawed at her, a silent reminder of her own unspoken desires.

Feeling a sudden urge to help, Natasha joined you and Wanda, offering her assistance.

"Can I help?" Natasha asked, her voice gentle.

"Of course, Nat. Can you grab her favorite stuffed animal from her room?" you suggested.

Natasha nodded and disappeared momentarily, returning with Wanda's beloved toy. She handed it to Wanda with a soft smile, and Wanda's face lit up at the sight of it.

With Natasha's help, you continued to comfort Wanda, ensuring she felt safe and loved in her vulnerable state.

Later, when you and Natasha found yourselves alone, Natasha couldn't resist commenting on your compassion.

"Hey, I just wanted to say… you're really good with her," Natasha admitted, a hint of admiration in her voice.

"Thanks, Nat. I just want to make sure she feels safe and loved," you replied sincerely.

Natasha nodded, but there was a sadness in her eyes that you couldn't quite place.

"Are you okay?" you asked, sensing her unease.

Natasha forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."

You accepted her answer, but couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Natasha's emotions than she let on.

As the evening wore on, Natasha's jealousy and insecurity continued to fester, gnawing at her from the inside out. Feeling overwhelmed, she excused herself from the common area and retreated to the solitude of her room.

Alone in the dimly lit space, Natasha paced back and forth, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. She knew she shouldn't let herself succumb to her little space, that she needed to remain strong and in control. But the more she fought against it, the more the longing tugged at her heartstrings.

"I can't let this happen," she muttered to herself, clenching her fists in frustration. "I have to stay in control."

But the more she fought against it, the stronger the pull became, until Natasha found herself sinking onto her bed, her resolve crumbling like sand between her fingers. Tears pricked at her eyes as she surrendered to the overwhelming tide of emotion.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to no one in particular, feeling the weight of her own inadequacy bear down upon her.

Meanwhile, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of your stomach. Natasha's sudden disappearance hadn't gone unnoticed, and you knew that she was struggling with something deeper than she let on.

Determined to offer her support, you made your way to her room, the hallway stretching out before you like an endless expanse of uncertainty. With each step, your concern grew, mingling with a sense of urgency that propelled you forward.

Standing before Natasha's closed door, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what lay ahead. You raised your hand and knocked softly, the sound echoing in the silence of the hallway.

"Natasha?" you called out tentatively, your voice barely above a whisper. "Are you in there?"

Inside the room, Natasha's heart skipped a beat at the sound of your voice. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. But deep down, she knew that she couldn't keep her struggles hidden forever.

"Come in" she said softly, so soft that you almost missed it.

As you stepped into Natasha's room, your eyes fell upon her huddled form on the bed, her posture small and vulnerable. For a moment, you were taken aback, the sight of Natasha in her little state catching you completely off guard.

"Natasha?" you murmured softly, your voice laced with genuine surprise. "I… I didn't realize…"

But before you could finish your sentence, you noticed the way Natasha's shoulders tensed, her expression shifting from vulnerability to embarrassment. It was as if she had been caught in a moment of weakness, a side of herself she had never intended for anyone to see.

Feeling a pang of guilt for intruding upon her private moment, you quickly reassured her, "It's okay, Natasha. You don't have to explain anything to me."

But Natasha recoiled slightly, her gaze averted as she wrapped her arms around herself protectively. She felt exposed, as if the carefully constructed walls she had built around herself had crumbled to dust, leaving her vulnerable and exposed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean for you to see me like this."

You approached her slowly, your movements gentle and deliberate as you reached out a hand to offer her comfort. "It's okay, Natasha," you repeated softly. "You don't have to apologize for being yourself."

But Natasha couldn't shake the feeling of shame that gnawed at her from within. She had spent so long hiding this part of herself from the world, afraid of being judged or rejected. And now, with you standing before her, seeing her at her most vulnerable, she couldn't help but feel a sense of overwhelming inadequacy.

As you sat beside Natasha on the bed, a sense of determination washed over you. You refused to let Natasha grapple with her inner turmoil alone, especially now that you knew about this vulnerable side of her.

With gentle determination, you wrapped your arms around Natasha, pulling her into a comforting embrace. She tensed at first, still feeling the weight of embarrassment and shame, but gradually, she began to relax into your touch, allowing herself to be held.

"I'm here for you, Natasha," you whispered softly, your voice a soothing balm to her wounded soul. "You don't have to face this alone."

Natasha's breath hitched as tears welled up in her eyes, the floodgates of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. But you held her steady, offering her the strength and support she so desperately needed.

With a trembling hand, you brushed away her tears, your touch gentle and reassuring. "Let me take care of you," you murmured, your words a promise of unwavering love and support.

As Natasha nestled into your comforting embrace, her vulnerability laid bare before you, you knew that she needed more than just words of reassurance. With tender care, you gently brushed her hair away from her tear-stained cheeks, your touch eliciting a soft sigh from her trembling lips.

"Shh, it's okay, Natasha," you whispered soothingly, your voice a gentle melody in the quiet of her room. "You're safe here with me."

Natasha's breath hitched as she struggled to contain her emotions, but with your steady presence by her side, she began to relax into your embrace, allowing herself to be held.

In a moment of instinctive tenderness, you brought your thumb to your lips, offering it to Natasha. At first, she hesitated, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but you urged her gently, encouraging her to trust you.

"Here, Natasha," you murmured softly, your voice laced with warmth and affection. "It's okay to seek comfort in whatever way you need."

With a shaky breath, Natasha tentatively took your thumb into her mouth, her lips wrapping around it instinctively as she sought solace in the simple act of sucking. A sense of calm washed over her as she melted into your embrace, the rhythmic motion soothing her frayed nerves.

You smiled tenderly at her, your heart swelling with love and admiration for this strong and resilient woman who had entrusted you with her vulnerability. With each gentle stroke of your thumb against her lips, you offered her the comfort and care she so desperately needed, reaffirming your unwavering support for her.

And as Natasha nestled closer to you, her breathing slow and steady, you knew that in that moment, you had helped her find peace amidst the chaos of her inner turmoil. Together, you shared a bond that transcended words, a silent understanding forged in the crucible of vulnerability and acceptance.

With a contented sigh, Natasha closed her eyes, her grip on your thumb loosening as she drifted into a peaceful slumber. And as you held her close, you vowed to always be there for her, to offer her comfort and care whenever she needed it, for as long as she would have you by her side.

-----

As Natasha stirred from her peaceful slumber, she blinked groggily, the remnants of sleep still clinging to her mind. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized she was no longer nestled in your comforting embrace, a sense of panic threatening to overtake her.

Frantically, she scanned the room, her eyes darting around in search of your familiar presence. But to her dismay, you were nowhere to be found, leaving her feeling abandoned and alone once more.

A wave of sadness washed over Natasha as she struggled to contain her rising emotions. Just when she thought she had found solace in your care, you had disappeared without a trace, leaving her feeling more vulnerable than ever before.

With a heavy sigh, Natasha felt herself slipping back into her little space, her defenses crumbling as she sought refuge from the overwhelming sense of abandonment. She curled up on the bed, her thumb finding its way to her lips once more as she sought comfort in the familiar ritual.

But just as Natasha was on the brink of succumbing to her inner turmoil, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, drawing her attention away from her troubled thoughts. Hope blossomed in her chest as she heard the familiar sound of your voice, dispelling the darkness that threatened to consume her.

And then, to her immense relief, you appeared in the doorway, a warm smile gracing your lips as you greeted her with a tender gaze.

"Hey, Natasha," you said softly, your voice filled with warmth and affection. "I'm sorry I was gone for a moment. I just needed to use the washroom."

As Natasha took in your reassuring presence, a sense of calm washed over her, dispelling the last traces of her anxiety. She felt a surge of gratitude for your unwavering support, knowing that no matter how lost she felt, you would always be there to guide her through the darkness.

With a contented sigh, Natasha reached out to you, her small hand seeking yours in a silent gesture of gratitude and affection. And as you took her hand in yours, a sense of peace settled over her, knowing that with you by her side, she could weather any storm that came her way. As you sat beside Natasha, her hand in yours, a question lingered at the forefront of your mind. With a gentle squeeze of her hand, you summoned the courage to voice your curiosity.

"Natasha," you began softly, "do you know why you went into your little space earlier?"

Natasha's breath caught in her throat at your question, her heart racing with uncertainty. She had never intended for you to find out about this vulnerable side of her, and now that you were asking her about it, she felt a wave of apprehension wash over her.

"I... I don't know," she murmured hesitantly, her gaze flickering away from yours. "I guess... I guess I just felt overwhelmed."

You studied her carefully, sensing that there was more to her answer than she was letting on. "Is there something else, Natasha?" you pressed gently, your voice filled with concern.

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her mind racing as she grappled with her inner turmoil. But then, with a shaky breath, she found the courage to speak her truth.

"I... I've always wanted to hide my little space from everyone," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't want anyone to know about this vulnerable side of me, especially not you."

The confession hung heavy in the air between you, a silent acknowledgment of Natasha's deepest fears and insecurities. And in that moment, you realized just how much she had been struggling, how much she had been hiding from you all this time.

"I'm sorry, Natasha," you murmured softly, your heart aching for her pain. "I had no idea."

But to your surprise, Natasha offered you a small smile, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "You couldn't have known."

A silence passed between you, and you could sense that she was debating on whether to tell you, so you stayed quiet, and waited.

As Natasha gathered her courage to share her feelings, she took a deep breath, her eyes meeting yours with a mixture of vulnerability and determination.

"I… I need to tell you something," she began softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You listened intently, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for Natasha to speak.

"I was… I was jealous of Wanda," Natasha admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "When I saw you with her, offering her comfort… I couldn't help but feel envious."

Her confession took you by surprise, a pang of guilt tugging at your heart as you realized the impact your actions had unknowingly had on Natasha.

"I'm sorry, Natasha," you murmured softly, reaching out to take her hand in yours. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

But Natasha shook her head, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "It's not your fault," she reassured you gently. "I know you were just trying to help."

You studied her carefully, a sense of admiration swelling within you at her honesty and vulnerability. Despite her struggles, Natasha had found the courage to open up to you, to share her deepest fears and insecurities.

"Natasha," you began tentatively, your voice filled with sincerity, "I want you to know that I'm not Wanda's actual caregiver. I was just there to offer her comfort when she needed it."

To your relief, Natasha's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with understanding. "I know," she replied softly. "And I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions."

With a sense of relief washing over you, you reached out to squeeze Natasha's hand in yours, a silent gesture of solidarity and support.

"Natasha," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, "would you let me be your caregiver? Not just as a friend, but as something more?"

For a moment, Natasha's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in surprise at your heartfelt request. But then, to your immense relief, she nodded, a radiant smile spreading across her face.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "Yes, I would like that very much."

#avengers #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #wanda maximoff #anon ask #anonymous #little space #caregiver #regression #little #cg/l #cg/l little

121 notes · View notes