⟡ you can call me: h, hales, or any pet names/nicknames!!!! (i love all pet names but please don’t use baby/babygirl <3)
⟡ nineteen
⟡ she/her
⟡ veryyy into girls
⟡ i’m not a writer so i do repost a lot of stuff that i relate to or connect with!
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⟡ some of my interests are: taylor swift, marvel, supergirl, glee, photography, music, fnaf, musical theatre, minions, talking about myself, gay people, and smosh!
⟡ DNI if you are a cis man, homophobic, transphobic, misogynistic, anti-abortion, pro ice, or if you support tr*mp!
⟡ this is a warning that some of the stuff that i repost is nsfw. if you are uncomfortable with that, this is not the blog for you! :)
I really like everything going on for second best so far!! I also want an angsty part but idk if this will go with the person who had an angsty request. Maybe while y/n is in the rain waiting for Wanda and Natasha, she actually gets kidnapped by Agatha. Natasha and Wanda aren’t able to find her for several weeks. But Agatha turns out to be a better mother than Wanda and y/n calls Agatha ‘mommy’. If Natasha and Wanda end up finding y/n, maybe y/n even tells Wanda that Agatha was better?
Second Best: Agatha All Along Edition
Mom!ScarletWidow & Agatha Harkness & Child!Fem!Reader
Link to Part One [x], Part Two [x], Alt Part Two [x], Multiverse Ending [x] and Found Runaway Ending [x]
[A/N] Thank you so much for the request sweetie, hope you enjoy this one 😘
Agatha knows that she’s not a good person. Good people don’t murder others to steal their powers. Her Nicky had been good though. How a child born to Agatha could be so good she had no idea. Whenever Agatha did something bad she couldn’t help thinking about how Nicky would be disappointed in her. It didn’t stop her completely but it did make her feel guilty, something she dragged around like the chains Jacob Marley wore in ‘A Christmas Carol’. Stupid book.
Agatha had made a point of never harming children. If any pregnant woman or one with a young child tried to join her ‘covens’ she would always turn them away. Even someone like Agatha had a moral code to an extent. That’s why she does pause when she finds out when she realises she can use you to get to Wanda Maximoff. Agatha wouldn’t have even known what you looked like if that paparazzi hadn’t snapped a photo of Wanda whilst she was pregnant, holding onto your hand as you walked alongside her. Tony was usually on it with keeping photos of Avengers kids out of the papers, but that was one that had slipped through the cracks apparently.
It surprises Agatha how much the sight of you crying in the rain, calling out pitifully for your Moms’ affects her. You’ve taken shelter in a bus stop but the rain has already plastered your hair and clothes to your skin, and you’re shivering, your thin cardigan not providing you any warmth. The teddy bear you’re clutching in your arms is also sodden but you’re still clinging to it like your life depends on it. Something about it makes Agatha pause and for a moment she just watches you. Time begins to slip by but no one comes, and your cries grow more distressed as the wind howls through the bus shelter.
Eventually she pulls her hood up and crosses the street, squatting down in front of you. You’re sat on the floor now, clutching your bear tightly in your arms, your heavy backpack on the ground next to you. “Are you lost?” Agatha asks softly.
You look at her with wide, fearful eyes and nod, holding your bear even tighter. Agatha clears her throat. It’s been a while since she’s interacted with a child, especially one as young as you. You look about Nicky’s age when he’d- She tries her best to smile, gesturing to the bear in your arms, “What’s his name?”
For a moment you just stare at her with wide eyes before finally replying in a tiny voice, “Her. Rosie.”
“Well, that’s a pretty name,” Agatha says. “Looks like she’s pretty cold and wet. Maybe she’d like to come home with me. We could have a hot chocolate.”
You hesitate, clearly tempted by her offer. Your stomach rumbles and you’re shivering, desperate to not be lost in the rain anymore. Eventually you pipe up in that same tiny voice, “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”
“Well, I’m not a stranger. I know your Mom. In fact, she sent me to pick you up.”
You peer at her, your eyes wide and still hesitant. “Really?”
“Sure. Look, me and your Mom are practically sisters.” Your eyes are wide as Agatha shows you her powers, the purple energy shifting between her fingers, just the way Wanda’s does. “See, we’re one in the same. Come on, you don’t wanna stay out here, do you? You’ll catch a cold and your Mom will be furious with me.”
Seemingly satisfied that she must be who she says she is you stand up. Agatha picks you up, glancing at your bag before deciding to leave that behind. You don’t ask for it and you seem happy enough with just your teddy bear. As she carries you away you don’t protest though you do ask quietly, “What’s your name?”
“It’s Agatha,” She tells you. “Agatha Harkness. Let’s get you somewhere warm and dry, huh? You’re safe now. I promise.”
Agatha watches as you sit at her table, a blanket draped around your shoulders, your wet hair now wrapped in a towel, whilst you sip hot chocolate from her least favourite mug. Well, Agatha doesn’t know you well – what if you break it? You’re a strangely careful child though, holding the mug with both of your hands, taking small, slow sips. Rosie is perched in front of the fireplace, and Agatha’s reassured you she’s a safe enough distance away to dry off whilst not catching fire.
“When is Mommy coming to get me?”
“Not sure,” Agatha replies. “You might have to spend the night here.” You look a little nervous and she leans over to tickle under your chin, “Don’t look like that, it’ll be fun.”
“But I don’t have my pyjamas or my toothbrush-”
“I have spares. You’ll have everything you need.” Agatha gives you a small smile, “And Rosie too, don’t worry.”
You can’t help giggling at that, taking a bite out of the cookie Agatha had put out for you. Although Agatha hadn’t intended to hurt you at any point, she had intended to send a photo to Wanda, to let her know you were here, that she now had the upper hand. As she gazes at you, Agatha begins to wonder what she even wants from Wanda. It had been years since she’d had a run in with Wanda Maximoff. When was the last time Agatha was truly happy?
When she was with Nicky, Agatha supposes. Everyone says those early years go by quickly but Agatha feels like she blinked and Nicky was suddenly stolen from her. It wasn’t fair. Why did Maximoff get two children? One of which she apparently couldn’t even be bothered to keep an eye on. You’d gone home with Agatha easily enough; anyone else could’ve taken advantage of you. Her heart hurts as you take another small sip of your hot chocolate, apparently accepting quietly that your Moms’ aren’t coming for you tonight.
“What were you doing today?” Agatha asks. “You were running away?”
You look at her with big, worried eyes, “I wanted to go to the compound to see Uncle Tony.”
“Why didn’t you ask your Moms’ to take you?”
“They’re too busy with Scarlett,” You mumble grumpily. “They love her more than me because she grew in Mommy’s belly.”
Agatha raises her eye-brows. It had never been mentioned in the press that you were adopted, and she’d always assumed you’d been the creation of sperm donor as Scarlett had been. It hadn’t even crossed Agatha’s mind that Wanda hadn’t carried you herself. “I see. So what, you were going to go and live at the compound?”
“I don’t know,” You say, taking another bite of your cookie. “I just wanted to see Uncle Tony.”
“You know, I had a little boy once,” Agatha suddenly says. “He was about your age.”
“Do you have a photo of him?”
“Oh… No, he- He was a little boy in a time before photos.”
You nod thoughtfully – your Mama doesn’t have any photos of herself as a little girl either. She says Grandma Melina has some but you’ve never seen them. “What happened to him?”
“He- He’s not with me anymore.”
You finish your cookie and ponder her words for a moment, “I’m not with my birth Mommy anymore either. She couldn’t look after me so I got adopted.”
Agatha nods, watching as you take the final sip of your hot chocolate. “It’s getting late,” She says. “Are you hungry for anything else?” You shake your head and Agatha nods. “I guess I should set you up somewhere to sleep.”
There’s a room in Agatha’s house that she’d set aside as ‘Nicky’s room. Stupid really, given Nicky’s never set foot in the house but she hadn’t been able to help herself. For a moment she considers setting up the couch for you but then she sees the way you’re looking up at her with those big, sleepy eyes and she realises that you need a proper bed. Before she has chance to over think, she bends down and lifts you up, cradling you in her arms. You yawn and point wordlessly to your teddy bear so she bends down again, placing the still slightly damp bear into your arms. You lean your head against her shoulder, holding Rosie in one arm and putting your thumb in your mouth.
For a long moment Agatha just holds you in her arms and you let her. It’s been weeks since your Moms’ held you like this and it’s nice to feel cared for. There’s something familiar and comforting about her and Agatha brushes her lips gently against your forehead as you yawn. Agatha rocks you gently in her arms, feeling comforted herself. She hasn’t held a child like this since Nicky. She hasn’t held a child at all in fact since Nicky. It feels… Nice. Familiar.
As the weeks go by Agatha notices that with each day you ask less and less about your Moms’. On the first morning Agatha had made you pancakes, and you’d asked her over breakfast when you were going home. You’d asked her whilst you were both doing a jigsaw puzzle, whilst you had lunch, whilst you were drawing, whilst you were playing hide and seek, during dinner and as she was tucking you into bed. By the end of the first week you only asked her a couple of times, then once a day. For the past week, you hadn’t asked at all. Not once had you asked if you could speak to your Moms’ on the phone or question why they weren’t there.
Perhaps it was because the two of you were too busy having fun. Agatha had cut your hair in the hopes less people would recognise you and she’d thrown herself into being a Mom. This wasn’t supposed to happen but it just… Had. Agatha lost interest in Wanda and focused all her attention on you. For the first time in hundreds of years, life felt worth living again.
When you’d been there for three months Agatha finally suggested that you redecorate your room, a subtle way of letting you know that you were here to stay. It was a decision she’d struggled with, not wanting to feel like she was replacing Nicky but… Well, you were here. It had never been Nicky’s room, not really. You’d met her suggestion with complete enthusiasm, and you and Agatha laughed together as you repainted your room in your favourite colour. She’d taken you to Bed, Bath & Beyond, letting you pick out new curtains and bed sheets. Agatha had even offered to get you a new teddy bear but you’d shaken your head, clearly loyal to Rosie.
With every day that passed, Agatha realised she was starting to love you. Being a Mom was her purpose, she was realising. And you… Well, you were wonderful. The sweetest, most interesting little girl that Agatha had ever met. It wasn’t just being a Mom that Agatha loved; it was being your Mom. If you were crying and begging to go home, Agatha is fairly sure she would take you back but you weren’t. You seemed settled, you seemed… Like you loved her too.
Agatha had gotten into the habit of teaching you at home, and was helping you to learn how to write the alphabet. You would’ve started school in the Fall but it’s not like Agatha can register you anywhere. “Show me how you write an ‘A’,” Agatha prompts.
You carefully write the letter, looking up for her approval, “A for Agatha!”
“That’s right, A for Agatha, well done. You’re so clever.” Agatha ruffles your hair. “My clever girl.”
You giggle, “Can I have a cookie please?”
“If you can write down as much of the alphabet as you can remember for me then maybe I’ll consider it.” Agatha looks up at the sound of a knock on the door and she leans over to press a kiss to your forehead. “Wait here.”
Agatha has barely opened the door when she’s suddenly thrown across the room in a whirl of red, crashing to the floor with a groan. You scream, jumping up from the table, “Agatha-”
“Y/N!”
A familiar voice calls your name and in storm Natasha and Wanda, along with Nick Fury and Steve Rogers. Natasha lifts you up into her arms, pressing kiss after kiss to your face, “Oh Y/N, you’re okay, you’re okay, thank God, my baby-”
You squirm in her hold, trying to get down. Agatha is still crumpled on the floor and you sob loudly, reaching your arms out for her. Wanda crosses the room, blocking your view of Agatha as she cups your cheek with her hand, “Oh Sweetie, thank God you’re okay-”
“Put me down!”
“Hey, hey,” Natasha says, holding you tighter. “Baby, it’s us; it’s your Mom’s-”
“Agatha’s my Mommy!” You sob loudly, trying to reach around Wanda for Agatha. “I want Mommy!”
“Hey, I’m your Mommy,” Wanda says desperately. “Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been? You’ve been missing for months, we thought- God, baby, we thought-”
Agatha stands up slowly from the floor, feeling her heart plummet to her stomach. They’d thought you were dead. Regardless of Agatha’s anger towards the two women for how they’d treated you, how they’d neglected you, it hits her that she’d let two Mother’s think their daughter was dead. Both of them look… Awful. They’ve lost weight and there are dark circles beneath their eyes from lack of sleep. Their faces are drawn and pale, both of them almost weak with relief to have you back.
But all you can do is sob and scream for Agatha.
“We’re going to get you home,” Natasha says, holding you firmly in her arms. “Everything’s going to be okay, we promise, we promise…”
“Please, let me at least say goodbye,” Agatha says desperately, taking a step forward.
Wanda turns around, her eyes absolutely blazing, her powers flaring angrily between her fingers, “You stay away from our daughter. What did you do to her?”
Agatha opens and closes her mouth as Nick Fury comes forward, handcuffing her. It would be easy to resist. To use the remaining power she has to try and escape but what would be the point? Where would she go and what would she even do? You’d been her entire world for the past few months and without you, well…
What had she done to you? She’d loved you. Loved you almost as much as she’d loved her Nicky all those years ago. Loved you like you were her own. And now she was losing you. It wasn’t fair – she couldn’t even argue. Natasha and Wanda were your Mom’s, the one’s with the paperwork, the one’s with the legal rights. Agatha had been a temporary fill-in.
“Mommy!” You sob loudly as Natasha tries her best to rock you in her arms, to reassure you, to comfort you. Tears are streaming down Natasha’s cheeks, joy and relief to be reunited with her beloved little girl. But four months is a long time in a child’s life and you’d accepted Agatha as your Mom. Natasha’s arms felt foreign and strange now, and you reach out for Agatha again, whining desperately.
“I’m your Mommy,” Wanda says tearfully as she turns back to you, running her fingers gently over your cheek. “I’m your Mommy, and I’m here now. We never stopped searching for you our precious baby-”
You scream as Agatha is lead out of the house and shoved into the back of a car. Agatha just stares forward, trying her best not to listen to your cries, her heart shattering. She closes her eyes, trying her best to keep her own tears at bay.
“Agatha’s my Mommy!” You cry as Wanda takes you into her own arms. “Want Agatha!”
“Baby, please-”
“She was a better Mommy than you!” You shout at the top of your voice. “I want my Mommy!”
“Listen, listen, please baby,” Wanda says. “I know things got crazy with Scarlett, we know we messed up, we know we did. We don’t blame you for running away but we thought- We’ve missed you like crazy, you’re so precious to us. You’re our little girl. Ours. It’s time to take you home.”
You sob harder and Wanda and Natasha exchange a helpless glance, Wanda pressing a reassuring kiss to your forehead as you continue to cry. “Let’s just get her home,” Natasha says quietly. “The sooner we get her settled again, the better.”
They carry you out to their car, Wanda’s heart cracking every time you cry out and struggle in her arms. You were supposed to be her little girl. Her special big girl. Where had it gone so wrong? How could you be calling Agatha your Mommy? Wanda’s not sure but she’s going to do everything she can to get you settled back home. You’re her little girl. Her baby.
Hiii. Could you make a fic featuring Natasha Romanoff X fem!reader in which they are happily married and one night Natasha has a terrible nightmare: she comes back home and finds Dreykov, Madame B and some widows torturing and then painfully killing reader with her not being able to do anything and being forced to watch everything unfold. Natasha wakes up startled, absolutely terrified and in a complete emotional breakdown (tears, shaking, breathing erratically...) and wakes up reader to make sure she is NOT really dead. Reader comforts, reassures, and loves her (LOTS of fluff) and in the meantime they remember again why they're truly each other's soulmate (reader is aware that Natasha is not that vulnerable with anyone else and she is honoured Nat lets her and Natasha is thankful that someone loves and chooses her despite her past and trauma). Thanks in advance and sorry for making the request this long xoxo.
Trauma
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
TW's: Blood, violence, death
[A/N] Been suffering a little with writer's block and last time I said that on this blog it went away almost immediately so I'm saying it again in case it happens again ❤️ Happy Pride month everyone, I'll be sure to keep the lesbian fics coming this month 🌈 Thanks for the request my lovely anon, compared to some requests I get it wasn't actually that long 😂 Hope you enjoy this one 😘
Natasha unlocks the front door to the apartment she’d moved into with you five years ago. Your relationship had been going well at the time and you’d hinted more than once that you’d like to take things a step further. Eventually Natasha had relented, agreeing to move out of the Avengers compound into an apartment with you. It was small, none of the windows closed properly so there was always a draught, and every so often the shower randomly leaked with no rhythm or reason, but it had quickly become home. Natasha loved looking around and seeing pieces of you everywhere. Books strewn across the floor, the necklace you always wore left absentmindedly by the kitchen sink, your cardigan thrown over the back of a chair.
You’d gotten married two years ago, and Natasha couldn’t be happier. Marriage had always been something Natasha thought she wouldn’t experience. Even when she escaped the Red Room she’d figured, who could love someone as broken as her? You could, apparently. You were Natasha’s everything, and she was so glad she’d found you.
Maybe it’s because she’s been feeling so safe lately but Natasha doesn’t immediately notice anything out of place. It’s only when she’s kicked off her shoes that she notices the overturned coffee table, your plant pot broken with the soil spilt across the floor. You weren’t always the tidiest person around but Natasha knows if you’d bumped into it, you wouldn’t have just left it like that. This looked almost like-
“Baby?” Natasha calls out. “Are you home?”
There’s music playing in the living room and Natasha recognises it as Tchaikovsky, the ‘Swan Lake’ soundtrack. Why would you be listening to that? It’s playing loudly and it gets quieter as she creeps slowly down the corridor, and as the music quietens she begins to hear the sound of panicked sobs, and a voice calling her name. Your voice.
The moment Natasha steps into the living room someone kicks her in the leg, knocking her off her feet. Before she can react a series of punches get thrown on her, several to her face, and several to her stomach, disorienting her completely. Natasha tries to scramble to her feet, to reach for her weapon but two women grab her arms, pulling them behind her back. She squirms weakly in their grip, her alarmed gaze searching the room, finally landing on you.
You’re tied to one of the dining chairs, tears streaming down your cheeks, blood everywhere, your face battered and bruised as you let out pained pants through your tears. On either side of you stand two people Natasha remembers well, no matter how hard she wants to forget them. Madame B, her supervisor from the Red Room, and Dreykov, the man who’d put her there. Holding her back are presumably two Widow’s, and on either side of Madame B and Dreykov are four more Widow’s, each of them expressionless.
“What are you doing?” Natasha asks, thrashing in the grip of the women holding her. “What are you doing to her?”
Nobody answers her. Madame B turns back to you and you whimper, trying to squirm away from her touch as she presses a knife to your throat. Natasha thrashes harder, reaching desperately for you, “Don’t do this! Leave her alone, please, please, leave her alone-”
Natasha tries to scream but her words are coming out croaked, like her voice is slowly disappearing. She’s panicking now, so desperate to get to you. What are they doing here? How did they find her? Why are they targeting you? Questions fly through Natasha’s head but she tries to push them away, focusing on you, pulling desperately in the grip of the Widow’s but they hang on, and she’s still disoriented from the punches. For a moment she’s certain the Widow standing behind Dreykov is Yelena, when she blinks she turns into Melina, another blink and it’s Natasha herself. She shakes her head, mumbling desperately, “No, no, no, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening…”
Dreykov smiles, gesturing with his head, and Madame B drags the knife across your throat, blood beginning to pour out like a fountain. Your eyes are wide as you look towards Natasha, unable to speak as you cough and splutter, blood spilling out of your mouth. Natasha’s crying now, trying her best to scream over and over again, “No! No, please! Please! Not her! I’ll do anything, please! Please-”
But it’s too late and Natasha knows it. Your horrified gaze remains on her until your eyes glaze over, your expression stuck in permanent terror as your body slumps awkwardly in the chair, held up now only by the ropes. Dreykov turns to Natasha and she shakes her head, stammering over her words and her tears. You’re gone. Why did they do this to you? Natasha doesn’t care what happens to her now, you were her only reason for waking up in the morning, and now you’re gone, you’re gone-
Natasha bolts awake, sitting upright in bed and panting heavily. The bedroom is dark and for a moment she’s completely disoriented. Natasha reaches over to switch on the bedside lamp, her breathing coming out in erratic pants as she looks around the room. Finally her gaze lands on you and she chokes back a sob. You’re lying next to her, fast asleep, and before Natasha can think about what she’s doing she shakes your shoulder roughly, “Y/N! Y/N!”
You wake up with a start, looking up at her with wide eyes, “Wha- What?”
“Oh- Y/N…”
Natasha pulls you upright and into her arms, crying into your shoulder. For a moment you’re irritated by the sudden wakeup call but when you realise Natasha’s crying you instantly soften, wrapping your own arms around her. You know Natasha better than anyone but you’ve only seen her cry twice, and both times she’d left the room immediately so you wouldn’t see. This is the very first time she’s allowed herself to cry so openly. “I thought there was a house fire for a minute,” You tease softly, your own heart pounding in your chest. “But I guess there must’ve been another reason that you woke me up.”
Natasha doesn’t reply and that’s when you feel her shaking, her hands digging into the fabric of the baggy t-shirt you wear to sleep in. You try to pull back to look at her but she hangs on, desperate to hold onto you, so you relent, letting her just hold you if that’s what she wants. Her breathing is still coming out in erratic pants, so you rub your hand up and down her back, mumbling, “Hey... Nat, baby, it’s okay… Everything’s okay…”
Natasha can’t speak, letting out a gulping sob as she presses a shaky kiss to your forehead, letting herself feel that you’re safe and that more importantly, you’re alive. Eventually she pulls back to look at you, cupping your cheek in her hand, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah… Yeah, I was just asleep. Are you okay?”
Natasha suddenly pulls away, grabbing her sidearm that she keeps in the bedside drawer and creeping into the hallway. You start to say her name but Natasha holds up a finger to silence you, so you quieten, letting her do whatever she feels she needs to do. Natasha checks every room of the small apartment, every possible hiding spot until she’s satisfied that there’s no one else there. She checks the front door is definitely locked before heading back to bed and pulling you into her arms again.
You reach up to gently wipe a tear on her cheek, “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“You were dead.” Just saying the words out loud makes Natasha sob again, and your expression softens, kissing her tearstained cheek. “I couldn’t do anything, I was- I couldn’t save you, God, I couldn’t save you-”
“I’m fine. Okay? Nothing happened, it was just a bad dream.”
“It was worse than a bad dream, it was… Fuck, it was so real. You were-” Natasha lets out a shaky breath, leaning her forehead against yours. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought I’d fucking lost you.”
You tilt your head to press a slow, loving kiss to her lips, and mumble, “I’m right here. Nothing’s gonna happen to me-”
“You don’t know that,” Natasha says urgently. “I wasn’t there to protect you and they got the upper hand and then I couldn’t- I couldn’t-”
“Nat, baby, it wasn’t real. I don’t know what happened but it was just a bad dream.”
“What if it wasn’t though?” Natasha sobs. “This apartment isn’t the most secure and I worry about you here all by yourself while I’m away on missions. Anything could happen and if I- If I lost you, I don’t know if I could- I wouldn’t be able to-”
You consider her words for a moment, your fingers gently running over her cheek, wiping away a tear that slips down, “What would make you feel better?”
Natasha hesitates, swallowing down another sob as she tries to get a hold of her emotions. What would make her feel better? “I- I want to teach you basic self defence.”
“Okay.”
“What, you’re going to agree just like that?”
“I’d agree to anything if it made you feel better. Besides, I’ve wanted to learn for a while, I’d rather get taught by you.”
“And I want to install a security system,” Natasha says. “I’m not even asking the landlord, I’m just gonna do it.”
“We’re not getting our deposit back, are we?”
“You’re more important to me.”
You meet her gaze, seeing the way she’s looking at you. Her eyes are red, her eyelashes glistening as another tear trickles down her flushed cheek. It’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen her and you know it’s rare. A sign that she trusts you. It’s only taken her six years of being together, two of them in which you’ve been married. You kiss her teary cheek again, “You’re important to me too. Okay? And if I have to take all the self defence courses in New York, start carrying pepper spray, have the fanciest, most expensive security system that money can buy, then I will. Anything to make you feel better.”
Natasha sniffles, looking down at the bed, “I know I’m being a lot right now-”
“No, you’re being real, and I appreciate it. I love you.”
“I love you more,” Natasha replies without hesitation. “I still shouldn’t have cried.”
“It’s okay to cry, you know?” You say gently, tucking a strand of her red hair behind her ear. “It’s not a weakness, it’s just… Having a good cry makes me feel better. Do you know how many times a day I sneak to the bathroom at work to have a little cry?”
“That often? Do you like… Need help?”
“Okay, it’s not that often but sometimes things get on top of you and crying does help.” You cup her cheek with your hand again, your voice dropping quieter, “I know you didn’t cry as a kid. I know what they said to you, what they did to you if you cried… But you’re not there anymore, you’re here with me. And if you need to cry then you can just cry.”
“You’re my soulmate, you know that?” Natasha says with a small, tearful smile. “You’re the only person I fully trust.”
“What about Clint?”
“I trust Clint with my life but I trust you with my emotions.”
You smile, unable to resist kissing her cheek again. Her breathing has calmed somewhat and you run your fingers through her hair, before pressing a kiss to her forehead this time, “Do you wanna stay up a bit longer? We could put a movie on, just for some background noise and cuddle for a bit.”
Natasha hadn’t even realised that was what she needed until you suggested it. You know her even better than she knows herself sometimes. She nods mutely, cuddling into your side as you scroll through Netflix looking for something comforting to watch. Her arm snakes around your waist and she presses a kiss to your neck, “I’m sorry, I know you have work in the morning-”
“It’s one night of slightly broken sleep, I’m sure I’ll survive. Besides, I’d choose cuddles with you over sleep anytime.”
Natasha kisses you again as you finally settle on ‘Mean Girls’, an old comfort film you both enjoy. Natasha relaxes as the familiar opening begins to play and you wrap your arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She’s still on edge from her nightmare but the movie combined with your comforting presence helps to soothe her. You run your fingers through her hair and she sighs, loving when you do that. If anyone else tried to touch her hair she’d slap them, but you’re different. Your touch relaxes her and she feels a rush of love and gratitude for you.
Nothing will ever happen to you, Natasha will make sure of it. She knows Madame B and Dreykov can’t come after you, that they’re both dead now, that her dream was just her subconscious fucking with her. But there are other threats out there and if anyone tries to get near you, they’ll soon regret it. No one touches Natasha’s wife and gets away with it.
And now that I'm here, I'll say something more.
I DO NOT, OWE ANYONE REPLIES.
I'm tired, exhausted and at my limit. If you see me active or reposting doesn't mean I have the energy or the WILL. Of answering, and if I do I don't owe everyone a response. I'll text WHOEVER I want. Some people drain more energy to answer to than others. And if you're mad at it, deal with it.
It's not my problem, and for god's shake, I shouldn't even have to be saying this.
I HAVE MY OWN LIFE.
Oh me? I’m fine, just thinking about how Emma and Regina’s fates were intertwined since before they ever met, how they raised a son together, how Emma was the first person to see Regina clearly enough to know she was the villain, and then was the first person to see her clearly enough to know that she wanted to change and believe she could. Just thinking about how Emma and Regina were both constantly drawn to each other because they saw each other as human— Emma saw Regina’s goodness, and Regina recognized Emma’s darkness. Just thinking about how when Regina had to choose between saving Emma and Robin, the man supposedly the love of her life, she chose Emma without a second thought. Just thinking about how Emma sacrificed herself for Regina again and again, and how Regina did the same.
