Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Summary: The one that died on Vormir was Clint and not Natasha. She’s been dealing with the guilt by throwing herself into work and consistently risking her life. It’s put her marriage in a tough spot. Back from her latest mission Natasha senses her wife is tired of her running. Marriage troubles and jealousy follow.
When Natasha met Y/N on that mission all those years ago, she could’ve never have imagined how much she’d come to love her. When she married her, she would’ve never predicted how much her love would still continue to grow for her everyday.
Natasha would have never predicted though also, that fighting with her wife would be so awful.
It’s awful. It’s been happening for weeks. Natasha knows a lot of it is her fault. She’s just recently come back from a mission abroad that had taken her two months. A risky uncover mission she knows, even without you having said, that you never wanted her to go on.
Before even that though Natasha was constantly taking part in risky missions, leaving for a week or weeks at a time, going MIA on you, and essentially abandoning you. After what happened on Vormir a year and a half ago now…Natasha feels like she has a lot to prove to not only the world, but Clint and his family. She should have won, and she would have if she could’ve just let go of all she had to lose.
She couldn’t. She’s glad she’s alive, but there’s so much guilt in that too. To have lived, and to be happy about it, there are nights where Natasha can’t sleep thinking about it—feeling it consume her.
Steve was so close to pairing her and you on that mission. It was Clint that asked to be put with her instead. Natasha thinks about it all of the time.
She misses him. She’s consumed with guilt. So she leaves. She leaves to try and be the hero she was supposed to have been a year and a half ago. She’s trying to make up for it.
It’s ruining her marriage.
She’s back from her mission abroad, and the second she returned you asked Steve to place you on a mission. Natasha wonders if she’s reading into things, but she knows the tension she feels with you isn’t in her head.
It’s been there for a year, but never this heavy. She feels like her own wife is avoiding her.
Natasha sits up in her seat, you ignore her but you tense at what she says next; “I’m coming too.”
Her eyes meet yours. You’re her wife, and she’s always been able to read you just as well as she’s been able to read herself…except for right now. For the first time in 7 years she doesn’t know what’s going through your head.
It’s terrifying. “You literally just came back Nat-”
“Thanks for the concern, Nick. But I’m going.”
He sighs simply, knowing her well enough by now to not argue. “Okay.”
Natasha feels betrayed, and angry, and self righteous and a million other things.
The mission. The mission had gone awfully. What was supposed to be an uncover mission for you—to get intel—quickly turned into something sexual.
That wasn’t new. Natasha of all people knew that sometimes, especially when you sense someone is already interested, you have to use your sensuality to get what you need.
You did that. You did it well. You even maintained the connection for the future by the end of it, giving Nick more opportunity to suck all the intel he can from her. From Evelyn.
But as Natasha was watching from the sidelines, watching and hearing her wife flirt, kiss, and makeout with the target, like the both of you sometimes are required to do, she had a sense that this time was different from all the others.
Not for her, but for you. It felt more genuine. Especially when she overheard you in the ship talking to Kate about it on the phone. “She was hot,” you gushed. Natasha had felt sick to her stomach and left, but when she returned later she heard you talking about how you would’ve like to know her outside of work.
Immediately she told Fury that he’d get an update on his intel tomorrow and hung up. Then she told their pilot to redirect from the tower to her home.
He obeyed, and as soon as the ship landed Natasha practically you dragged you by the wrist into your shared home, and forced you into a chair.
Your eyes are dark with something Natasha knows very well. Even when you’re furious with Natasha she knows well that you’re never really able to resist.
It’s why she’s surprised that even with your eyes darkened in lust, you try and stand up and move away.
Natasha doesn’t let you. She grabs you by the chin and by the jaw, tilting your head up and holding it there forcefully. She uses just enough pressure to keep you there but not hurt you.
Your eyes dark with lust turn dark with a silent fury. “When I try and stand up, you let me. I don’t want to have se-”
You’ve got lipstick smudged at the corner of your lips and it fuels Natasha’s anger more. She knows how hard it is to smudge this particular brand from experience. Why were you kissing the target like that?
Why were you kissing the target like you kissed your wife?
Natasha feels her heart beat quicken.
“I heard you and Kate Bishop talking about the mission,” Natasha says her full name, just like Yelena would. While Yelena does it to be a tease, Natasha does it with betrayal. “You like her.” She accuses. “Seriously? You forget this is work. That you’re married.”
Once you realize what this is about, Natasha can more than feel—but see the way you shut off. “The one forgetting this is work is you,” you growl, pushing Natasha’s hand away forcefully and crossing your legs.
She knows you well enough to know that move—crossing your legs is you trying to regain power. When you lean back casually then, she has a sense that you’ve grown tired of this conversation.
She knows it’s an act of indifference, but it upsets her more.
“I just thought in another life. We could’v been friends. That’s what I was saying,” you continue, elbow on table and head leaning against fist.
“So are we.” At Natasha’s scowl you backtrack with a roll of her eyes. It stings somewhere deep. “I’m not talking about that Nat— you know what I mean.”
“All I know is that you’re here defending murder because of a pathetic little crush you have.”
“I don’t have a crush, Natasha, you’re being ridiculous,” you sigh, standing up.
“Clearly, if you had listened further, you would’ve known that I started that conversation talking about you.”
Natasha doesn’t believe you, for the first time in her relationship with you. Also though she’s sensing right now that you don’t want her to believe you. She’s smart enough to know that much.
You must sense it in her, because you let out a small laugh under your breath and walk right by Natasha, going towards the kitchen. Natasha turns around and follows, watching silently as you fill up a glass with wine.
“Want some?” You ask casually.
“You can’t go on the next mission. Not any one with Evelyn. Make sure nick knows tomorrow you’ll be dropping out,” Natasha says lowly. Even as she says it, she feels a layer of disgust. What is she doing?
The glass gets put down roughly. The first and only sign of your anger. Then, another laugh, this one disbelieving. “Last I checked, you’re not my manager, Natasha.”
“I’m not telling you as a coworker, I’m asking as your wife,” the words leave her lips emotionlessly, and to her own ears they don’t even sound like her.
She’s just so angry. She wants a reaction out of you now. Some sort of sign that you care.
She knows that your absence of care is an act, but when did you have to put on an act with her?
Y/N gets more angry, and it’s just what Natasha wanted and not what she wanted at all. “We’re heroes Natasha. You’re allowed to join the riskiest missions The Avengers has to offer, missions that take you away for months, but I’m not allowed to kiss a girl for intel? Make it make sense. This is no different from all the other times we’ve done this.”
It stings. It hurts, and in some important ways you have a point. Natasha doesn’t care about your points though, not right now.
In this argument Natasha’s arguing about more than just this Eveyln. She’s pushing it because it’s more than that. It’s her trying to get attention from you after so long without it, and she has a feeling that this argument is that for you too.
“You like her. That’s whats different. So now you have a choice to make. Drop the mission—”
“Or what, Natasha? You’ll force me, or you’ll divorce me?” As soon as the words leave your lips both you and Natasha freeze. Your eyes widen as if the words that had escaped, escaped without your permission. Suddenly it felt like everything had gone too far. Your eyes fill with tears, Natasha feels like she’s in shock.
Natasha’s eyes water. Her stomach feels like it’s just dropped. Like the wind was pushed out of her. Your tears make her want to cry. She hadn’t meant to push you, she just wanted to talk and didn’t know how to ask for it any other way than this.
“You— you are so frustrating,” you force out, voice trembling , and then you move to leave. Straight towards the front door. Natasha moves to stand in front of you.”
“Wait,” Natasha begs again, desperate. “Don’t leave like this, I’m sorry.”
“I’ll see you at tomorrows mission,” You growl out. Tears are falling from your eyes, but they are hard and unrelenting.
You release a choked laugh. “God, Natasha. You don’t trust me at all.” Natasha hadn’t meant it like that…she just meant that neither of you should go. You should stay and talk. “Or are you that insecure?” You ask, suddenly stalking forward and getting into Natasha’s face.
It hurts, because it’s true, but also because the two of you don’t do this, not unless it’s training or it’s sex, you both don’t go for the throat.
“You left me. You leave me all of the time. What on earth gives you the right to be scared I’ll leave you? All I do is wait patiently for the infamous Black Widow to decide I’m worth her time,” you rush out angrily, grabbing a fistful of the t-shirt Natasha had changed into in your rage. Your hands are shaking with a fury Natasha only ever sees directed at people you hate.
“The one that should be lacking trust is me,” you shout, voice trembling with a level of devastation Natasha almost can’t believe. How much hurt has she been causing you without realizing? “And believe me I do,” you continue much more lowly, letting Natasha go to rub at your face. “but I swear to god Natasha, If tomorrow Fury either tells me you left to go on another mission, or I’m off the mission with Evelyn; we’re over.”
“No. Natasha. Just no.” You’re sobbing. Full on sobbing. There’s something about the distance between you and Natasha right now that makes her realize your loneliness.
Natasha stands. She trembles.
“I’m leaving,” you rasp out, finally moving pass. Natasha doesn’t even have time to offer to leave instead before you’re gone.
She moves to sit on the couch as soon as the door slams shut.
And then she cries, and cries, and cries.
Yelena comes at 2am. She says simply, in her accent that’s still so much stronger than Natasha; “Your Wif— Y/N sent me. She said you were alone and could probably use your sister.”
Yelena doesn’t notice she’s crying, or probably doesn’t care because she says next; “I told her she sounded like she needed her wife, she hung up, but not after the most devastating ‘yeah’ I ever heard. So I assume this is your fault? And instead of going to her you’re moping?”
Yep. Confirmed doesn’t care.
As harsh as Yelena was when she first walked in, she ended up distracting Natasha with an hour or two of insisted baking. Crying around a Yelena that pretends it’s not happening is strangely comforting. Yelena stays with Natasha all night, and even puts more of the blanket over Natasha when they’re watching a movie.
That’s how Natasha knows she’s fucked. Yelena is willingly giving her more blanket.
Natasha hasn’t had a moment to really see you. You didn’t show up to the tower until it was time to leave on the ship, and when you both entered the ship you locked yourself away.
It’s when you’re commed up waiting at the bar that Natasha finally has a moment to speak with you. “Can you hear me?” Natasha asks into her mic, making sure one last time.
She sees you take a sip from your drink and doesn’t see the way your lips move. “Yes.”
It’s for a mission, but still having you respond to Natasha makes her heart both soar and hurt. She realizes she’s being pathetic. She misses you so much. Has missed you since bringing the world back.
“Y/N…” You must be able to tell what she’s going to say because you respond quickly.
“Black widow. This server is not private. Focus on the mission or ask Agent Liam to swap positions with you.”
Natasha’s both impressed by how unsuspicious you look lecturing her, and hurt by the suggestion of a position swap. A desk agent could never keep you safe like she could.
The mission is going well. By well, Natasha means worse. She’s on field this time, in person because the intel you’re trying to draw from Evelyn today is more sensitive and things could quickly go sideways quickly if Evelyn becomes suspicious.
She doesn’t seem to be. Her hand is on your thigh. Your hand is playing with her ring in way that appears subconscious, but Natasha knows isn’t. Natasha plays with hers too. “So…” Evelyn drawls, “what you’re getting at is you’re apart of an organization that wants to kill my boss and you’re trying to collect intel?”
Honesty. It’s a risky strategy. Really risky. As soon as you had started confessing to Evelyn about your goals Natasha had felt uneasy.
“Basically,” you confirm casually, taking a long sip of wine.
“Stop drinking so much,” Natasha whispers into the mic, at the same time that Evelyn takes your glass from you, setting it aside.
“What do I get out of that?” Evelyn muses, taking your chin in her hand.
Your breath hitches in a very real way. The mic catches up on it. You must know the mic catches it because you whisper seductively, “you surprised me,” and Natasha knows that was for her. To stop Natasha from walking up there right now and pulling Evelyn away from you.
“You get to know you’re helping some good fellows stop a very bad man,” you continue on. Pulling Eveyln closer by her wrist. Your lips are inches from hers when you whisper; “pretend like that doesn’t matter to you, Eveyln, but we will both know it does. You are smarter than that man, more talented, wherever you go you’ll survive and you know that.”
Natasha bristles. Downs a glass of whiskey and bristles some more. She says nothing though, not when Evelyn gently pushes your hair back, not when she leans forward and kisses you softly.
It hurts more when it’s soft, but the softness of your kiss with Evelyn gets rough quickly, until you pull away.
“We’re trying to make a deal,” you breathe, breathless. Natasha’s heart quickens. She knows you’re pulling away for her. She can sense the anxiety in your words, and she wonders if Evelyn does too.
If she does she doesn’t let it show, instead she pulls you back in with one hand, the other reaching into her pocket, Natasha tenses, tenses and puts her hand on her gun, until she sees Evelyn put some cash on the table.
“We’ll do it later,” Evelyn mumbles dismissively, going back to kissing you. “Let’s get out of here.”
You pause for long enough that Natasha knows you’re considering all your options. In the same instant Natasha is too.
This could be a test. Evelyn seems genuinely interested in you and if she thinks it’s all a charade about getting intel she might feel betrayed. Rightfully so. But still.
“Oh don’t look at me like that, Y/N, “ Evelyn sighs, patting your cheek. “I’m smart enough to know when a women uses her body to get what she wants. So use it,” Evelyn urges. Natasha can see the mischievous sparkle in her eye from across the room. “Use it for one night. I’m interested in you. I think you could be interested in me.”
This is a game to her. Natasha can’t tell if she’s being playful or sadistic.
Natasha knows what you’re going to say. She thinks briefly about the people dying every second Evelyn doesn’t share information about her boss. She thinks about her possibly knowing his location.
It hurts so deeply that none of what Natasha is feeling is important in the face of lives being loss. Having sex on a mission, that’s something neither you or Natasha have decided to do since getting together. It was an unspoken decision because there’s always another way of getting what you need. But what’s the fastest way right now?
And does that matter? If The Avengers don’t go about doing good in a just way, does that negate so much of the good?
Natasha grits her teeth. “I trust you, Y/N. Do what you feel you need to do.”
“Are you asking me to trade my body for your information?” You ask bluntly. Natasha hadn’t been expecting that. You trust Evelyn too much. It’s growing apparent.
Evelyn narrows her eyes, then she smirks. “If little Jonny’s boy kingdom falls, I’ll use the scraps of it to build a new one. It was always my hope someone with enough balls would come and destroy him,” Evelyn explains, swirling around the umbrella in her cocktail. She looks at you with consideration over the top of her glass.
Natasha sees you straighten in your seat, and wonders if that’s apart of the act. Looking as if you’re regaining composure to pretend you lost it. Or maybe you dropped the act a long time ago.
“So speak to me,” You urge, and though Natasha is far she can imagine in detail the way you’re looking at Evelyn now. With begging eyes and a pouting lip. All three of you know whats at stake right now.
Evelyn seems to take joy in the power she holds over you. “You’re strong, Y/N,” her hands run down the front of your body, settling on your thigh, “and you’re smart.”
When Natasha sees the abrupt way you stand and drag Evelyn with you she grows very alarmed. “Where are you going?” Natasha barks. “Remember to not leave the site without sending anyone your location. We can leave too, come back tomorrow, we don’t need to rush this—”
“Yes we do,” Natasha hears softly in the intercom, softly enough that Evelyn can’t hear. “The ally we scoped the other day.”
Natasha gets up and follows.
Evelyn is pushed up against a wall when Natasha manages to get a good vantage point of the two of you again. It had taken her only two minutes. Two minutes full of moaning.
Seeing it is worse though. One of Evelyn’s legs are hooked on your hip, her hand is tangled in your hair, your hand is inching up her thigh.
Natasha no longer thinks she’s strong enough for this.
“You want us to know you’re powerful— you want me to know, but I already do,” you breathe out, lips hovering over Evelyns neck. “If you think fucking me will take the power out of me though, you have another thing coming.” You kiss her again, roughly, and Evelyn moans into it. Then you pull away completely, leaving her breathless against the wall and trying to regain her breath.
“I’m not going to fuck you, Evelyn, but you can give me power and I promise you right now, it won’t end up hurting you.” You assure gently. “We’re only after your boss,”
Natasha lets out the breath she was holding and it comes out loudly. She hadn’t realized how long she was holding her breath.
Evelyn laughs, throwing her head back, and then sends you a very soft smile. “I like you, Y/N, you play dirty—but I trust you,” Evelyn says, “I don’t trust many people so if you betray me rest assured it’s three bullets into your head.”
The grin that gets out of you is completely not fitting for the situation.
The two of you got the information and now you’re headed back to the tower. You’ve just gotten off a phone call with Fury telling him he needs to assure Evelyn’s safety or no ones getting the information you gathered.
Natasha sat next to you silently. When it’s done, she asks gently, with a lot of vulnerability, “Do you like her, Y/N? Please…I don’t want to fight I just feel—”
What’s stopping you from leaving when all Natasha has given you the past year and a half is breadcrumbs of a relationship.
The ship whirls. You’re silent.
Natasha feels like crying all over again. She’s not really the emotional type, not towards anything that doesn’t have to do with you. She feels her heart breaking
Then you glance over at her. Where you were all spikes and ridgidy before, it’s like you immediately go soft at the sight of Natashas emotion. Guard down, mask down, when a second ago you looked ready to fight.
“Yes,” you admit softly. “But nothing beyond a platonic feeling of kinship.” Your hand cups Natasha’s cheek from beside her, urging Natasha to stay looking at you. “I can’t possibly feel anything more when I’m fiercely in love with someone else.”
Natasha’s jaw trembles, you drop your hand and look away. The mask is going up, Natasha sees. Getting to look behind it though, reminds Natasha there is a behind it.
“Can I kiss you?” Natasha asks quietly, eyeing your still smudged lipstick and the love bites on your neck. You meet her eyes again, yours are calculating and unsure, but then slowly, you nod.
“Just for right now.” It’s a boundary. A way for you to still feel in control of the things that are about to happen between you.
Natasha takes it and doesn’t allow it to sting. She gently moves her hand into yours, urging you to come and sit on her lap. You do, quietly sitting down and straddling her.
Natasha feels her heart quicken just at this. At the pressure of you on her lap, the feel of you against her. She cups your face, the same way you had earlier, and draws you down for a kiss.
She can’t remember the last time she’s kissed you, but she can remember the bazillion of times she wanted to.
You mold against her, Natasha’s tongue brushes against your lip, and then her tongue brushes against yours, and then you’re moaning. For real this time. Not the bullshit you gave Evelyn. Natasha moans just at the sound of you.
You smell so good. Vanilla and home, and Natasha aches for it all so desperately. Her hand brushes against your stomach where your shirt had ridden up, causing you to shiver.
Natasha’s hands are cold, she knows that, but she also knows that’s not why you shivered. She smiles, heartbeat picking up. Her mouth moves down from your lips to your neck. Natasha can’t help but suck roughly on all the spots Evelyn had, and then on the spot she knows is most sensitive for you.
You’re grinding into her now, trying to relieve some kind of pressure, and Natasha feels this sudden urge to either cry or pray. She missed this. Missed you. The privilege she feels with you vulnerable on top of her is unmatched.
She grips your thighs. You tangle your hand in the red of her hair and tug gently. Natasha moans, this time against your neck, and then into your mouth again. “Baby,” you breathe shakily, and Natasha groans.
“Gods, I’ve missed you,” Natasha husks out. Then as soon as it had started its over. You slide back into your seat effortlessly, chest still heaving up and down, and Natasha blinks, at a loss.
She turns towards you and watches silently as you adjust your shirt back down. She watches as you wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, as you try and fix your hair. “Y/N.”
“We’re back at the tower,” you say quietly, but you aren’t looking at her and Natasha doubts that’s what had you scrawling away from her so fast.
When it’s time for the both of you to head home, you call another uber. When Natasha enters the home she shares with her wife, you aren’t there.
She sits in it for approximately two hours before she calls you.
The person you are dialing is currently not available…
“Y/N, it’s Natasha. Well, obviously it’s Natasha…just call me back…when you can.”
Leave a message after the beep…
“It’s me again. I know it’s late…or early I guess….I—never mind…just text me.
Natasha wakes up to the sound of her alarm blaring.
She had nightmares all night of Evelyn fucking you.
She listens to the auto recordings over and over again. All of it, from both of the two days. She hears the way you laugh at Evelyn, how you tease her, and what she feels isn’t jealousy over Evelyn—instead she feels so incredibly deeply that she misses you.
That night, Natasha gets a call from Fury that you’ve been kidnapped.
Natasha wastes no time— none at all. She hops on her bike and heads straight towards Evelyn’s home.
Fury had an agent—before you or Natasha were even on this mission—trace Eveyln all day. The address she’s headed to now is what was estimated to be Evelyn’s apartment. It doesn’t sound confident, or sure, but Natasha has not much else to go on, so when she asks where Evelyn lives and gets a response, she just runs with it.
She doesn’t wait even a second knocking, just barges in violently. Natasha knows this isn’t ‘protocol’. She also doesn’t care. Can’t, when her body feels like it’s gone entirely numb and yet her heart still beats like it’s going to beat out of her chest.
(She texts Yelena though, on the way to Evelyn’s. A simple; ‘Y/N is missing. Kidnapped. Here’s where I’m at’, and completely forgets about everything else not having to do with you.)
Her eyes scan the apartment, but it’s not her eyes that catch Evelyn, it’s her ears.
She hears movement from a room somewhere else in the home and immediately strides over, gun pointed. Her head and mind are completely empty. All that feels real is this feeling inside of her.
She’s mad, and absolutely terrified. A bone deep type of fear. She’s panicking, but she doesn’t look like it. She’s not thinking. Just acting instinctively.
When she barges into the door, sees Evelyn, and points a gun at her head she knows that couldn’t be more apparent.
Evelyn might have nothing to do with this. Threatening her after she agreed to help could put their whole operation at risk. Yet, thankfully, Natasha gets the feeling that that isn’t the case.
Evelyn looks at her like a part of her had been expecting her. Her bedroom looks ransacked, and there’s a duffle bag in front of her full of a bunch of things.
She’s trying to pack her things and run.
“Well hello, Black Widow, funny to see you here.”
Natasha breathes heavily, tries to get a hold of herself so she doesn’t shoot Evelyn right here right now. Her hands shake. How could Evelyn hurt you when all you have done is help and trust her?
Natasha puts the safety on her gun and shoves it into her hoister. It causes Evelyn to relax but thats a mistake because as soon as she does, Natasha shoves her violently into the wall.
“Where’s Y/N.” Natasha asks roughly, her voice bristling with resentment.
Evelyn’s smiles at her through her wince, but Natasha can see the guilt in her eyes. Can hear it when Evelyn speaks. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Natasha repeats, her grip on her collar going tighter. She’s breathing heavily, and Evelyn looks down, not even bothering to fight Natasha off.
She must know it won’t end well, and trying might land her in a worse position. It’s a survival instinct Natasha appreciates, until Evelyn opens her mouth next; “Well,” Evelyn continues quietly, “she’s probably dead.”
Natasha’s ears ring. Dead?
She must’ve said it out loud because Evelyn nods, looking like she wants to apologize. “Jonny had been following me. When he saw me with Y/N at the bar, he wasn’t suspicious. Her name isn’t nearly as out there as yours,” Evelyn tilts her head, “it’s only yesterday that even I found out that she’s a spy for the Avengers. Which I guess for a spy, that makes sense.”
Natasha shakes. “Did you tell him?” She asks, sure that she won’t have the strength to not kill Evelyn if she did. Natasha doesn’t care about Evelyn, but the fact that you had— it makes her feel the betrayal for you.
“No,” Evelyn scoffs. “Why in the world would I do that? His spy saw you. I told him I was just going on dates, but the fact that the only time you were around was when she was around was enough for Jonny to decide she was suspicious and needed to be gone.”
Natasha didn’t think she had it in her heart for it to drop even further. “Then why are you here?” She asks, as if that was the crack in Evelyn’s story to make Natasha sure it wasn’t true.
“He thought I was being hoaxed and I didn’t know you were there, or that she was an Avenger,” Evelyn explains. “Which is true. If I had known I would’ve told her how stupid it is to have you there. Anyone watching knows who you are.”
Natasha just hadn’t thought Evelyn was important or not trusted enough to be watched. She just hadn’t thought.
To link Natasha to you…that’s also a stretch she hadn’t predicted he’d make.
It feels immensely like it’s her fault. Like all of this is her fault. She wonders why they hadn’t gone for her instead, but already knows why. People underestimate who they don’t know. Natasha is known to not be underestimated. She was probably deemed too challenging to get to. They clearly have no idea who her wife is.
A loud sound of breaking glass comes from the window, catching both her and Evelyn off guard. Evelyn tenses up, looking at Natasha with wide eyes. Natasha immediately flips her around so her back is against Natasha’s front, one of Natasha’s arms go around her neck, the other points a gun at the door.
Her hands are raised like she expected Natasha to be pointing a gun at her, she leans casually against the door. A small smirk on her lips. “Found your wife.”
Natasha, for the first time since that moment with you on the ship, allows herself to feel hope.
Yelena crushes it very quickly. She says she doesn’t know if you’re alive, but she knows where you were taken.
Apparently you’ve been staying at Yelena’s every time you aren’t home. Yelena says her home looked like a tornado hit it. That fighting must’ve happened. That there was massive amounts of blood dragged across her apartment.
She also says that she noticed that the only thing missing was lucky’s spare collar. That she knows you know that there’s a tracker in that collar. So she tracked it. It shows to be popping up in some abandoned storage unit.
Natasha and Yelena head there now. Evelyn wanted to come—asked to come, but Natasha had denied her.
Natasha doesn’t trust her. Apart of that comes from her Jealousy. Comes from the way Evelyn had repeated, looking at Natasha a little differently; wife?, another part comes from the simple fact that coming with Natasha would endanger Evelyn greatly. A traitor has a target on their back greater than an enemy.
When the two arrive on site Kate Bishop is already there. Kate, Spiderman, and Bucky. It’s an odd Assembly of people but Natasha will take it.
It doesn’t end well for Jonny. Less force would have come to end his operation if he hadn’t taken you. If he hadn’t made it so personal.
He had though, and because of it he jeopardized everything. Even giving up the location of his headquarters.
…Bucky had found you first. Natasha finds Jonny.
She kills him. It’s the simplest thing in the world for her to do, and she hears your voice in her head as she does it, remembering the way you responded when she called Evelyn a murderer. So are we. You said.
Natasha will take murderer any day over Widow.
When she sees you you’re asleep, covered in blankets that are stained with your fresh blood. You smell like flowers, freshly washed clothes, and blood, and Natasha aches. Aches with it. With her failure to protect you.
She’s so busy trying to save the world she forgets about her wife. Her wife that suffers for her, aches for her just as Natasha does you. Her wife that’s lonely and worried, and sad more than she ever ought to be.
Clint sacrificed himself for Natasha, yet still she’s dying, and why must it have to work like that? The life that he wanted her to live, why does she insist on ruining it?
When Natasha steps close, it’s with not a small amount of reverence. And it’s with not a small amount of humility and guilt that she brushes her knuckles against your cheek. She doesn’t expect your eyes to open, not one bit, the others already warned her you loss a lot of blood, and yet your eyes do. They’re blurred, foggy, and Natasha doubts you can see her clearly, but they’re open. They’re open, and you smile.
Small, barely perceivable. “We…did it…didn’t we Nat…they’re safe?” You ask, voice hoarse and delirious.
Natasha feels tears come to her eyes but attempts to blink them down. She distracts herself by pushing your hard blood soaked hair out of your face but it doesn’t work all too well. You’ve never been so injured on a mission. Natasha wants to throw up. “My beautiful, beautiful girl,” Natasha whispers, trying to suppress the crack in her voice but clearly failing, “we did it.”
You let out a huff Natasha assumes is a laugh and then your eyes fall shut again. As soon as yours do Natasha shakes, shouts for Kate—who was the one assigned to take them to the hospital and who has been quietly speeding and clearly trying to act deaf—to go even faster.
When the three of you arrive at the hospital and you’re taken away Natasha and Kate get a call from the others; telling them the whole base has been either killed, taken hostage for information, or in the process of getting arrested. The rest of the SHIELDS agents are abstracting the rest of the evidence. But the six of them are officially done.
Bucky makes an innocent comment on the phone, says that if you survive then they can all go ahead and consider the mission a success, and Kate has to bravely stop Natasha from threatening his life.
And what irony it is—to be stuck with Kate Bishop. Hawkeyes prodigy. Your best friend. After Natashas outburst they sit quietly, and then, never one to let intimidation stop her from rambling, Kate speaks up.
Natasha understood partially before why Hawkeye and Yelena liked this girl, but now it’s beginning to escape her.
“She was talking about you…y’know. That day on the phone. When she was talking about someone being hot. She was telling me about how she missed you and how she hates that you’re still so hot,” Kate pauses, frowns at herself, “her words not mine. You know I prefer the other—”
Silence. Kates face is beat red. Her head tucked into her scarf. She’s muttering something under her breath, something about Natasha being even scarier than her sister. Someone is sobbing just behind them. Sobs that echo throughout the emergency room. Natasha feels so emotional, like she wants to scream, cry, shoot someone—shoot everyone—but her body is still. Even as her head and heart scream at her.
Kate peaks at her. Sighs. Then seems to muster up enough courage to speak again. “You don’t owe Clint anything, you don’t owe the world anything, and you don’t owe his family anything either. But you owe your wife a whole lot.” She peaks at her again, continues, “Clint saved you because he loved you, not because he wanted to be a hero, not because he thought you were a better Avenger, or could save more lives than he could, or anything. You weren’t Black Widow to him. You weren’t his coworker. You were his friend, Natasha and he wanted you to live. Really live. Not whatever you’re doing now.”
Natasha knows that. She knows it. Hearing it come from Kate Bishop means something though. Means something in a way that only Kate saying it to her could. Kate Bishop who is trying so hard now to fill Hawkeyes shoes. Trying so hard to be worthy of carrying on his legacy. Kate who has become a hero of her own choice, her own selflessness, and gains nothing for it. Kate who Clint loved like a daughter.
This kid—well, not a kid anymore, Natasha supposes, was the right choice. Natashas about to thank her and apologize before Kates speaks up again.
Rambling. “Anyways, just thought I should say that. I know it wasn’t my place or anything but I know what it’s like I guess to feel like you have to fill Clints shoes and then some—or something— and Y/N and I are close—obviously not as close as you are to her, and I know it’s not my relationship so maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but maybe I guess I feel like I owe it to them. But maybe that’s a little presumptuous—”
“Woah there Kate Bishop! Breathe you’re gonna give yourself a heart attack!”
It’s Yelena. Natasha’s been saved.
The doctors let Natasha see you.
You look worse, somehow, than you did in the van on the way here. But Natasha knows that you’re stable now in a way you hadn’t been before.
When you see Nat you look away, out the window, saying nothing, and she pulls up a chair to sit right next to you.
“I’m sorry” Natasha says. Head buried in her hands. “I’m so sorry. For the jealousy and accusations, and for everything I said, but more than that. I’m sorry I never came back from that cliff side. I’m sorry I was there but I wasn’t there, I’m sorry I abandoned you,” she’s sobbing now, as you look over her on a hospital bed with wide eyes, but Natasha doesn’t let it stop her.
She’s so sorry. The guilt eats away at her, and she needs you to know—to believe it. “I’m sorry for not seeing it before. I’m sorry I wasn’t even around enough for us to have a proper conversation about it. I’m sorry I’ve been risking our life together for a year and a half now because of this guilt. This guilt that has never been more important than you,” Natasha sobs, shaking with emotion she’s just now letting herself come loose after the day she had, after the year, after seeing you pale and bloodied in that van, after her conversation with Kate. “I’m sorry I’ve been so selfish. I left you alone. I risked everything, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m doing this now, as you’re lying in a hospital bed because of the consequences of my actions.” Natasha reaches for your hand and holds it gently, pressing it against her temple. “I’ve been lonely, too. Scared. I’ve missed you desperately. All of the time. Always— this past year and a half—even as I pushed you away. I survived and I made you feel the consequence of it, and I’m sorry.”
You smile at Natasha, your wife, so gently, with so much grief and love, running a bandaged hand through her hair. “I forgive you,” you say, and Natasha stands from her chair and enters the arms of her wife.
“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, tears coming to your eyes as you rub Natasha’s back, and Natasha, despite the circumstances, despite that fact that she’s apologized and you have forgiven her but the works not done yet, despite the fact that you’re in a hospital bed, despite the fact that Clint’s gone and he sacrificed himself for her…despite it all.
She feels so relieved. So much like she’s going to be okay. So much like she belongs. In her wife’s arms, finally letting her in after a year and a half, she feels so happy. She hasn’t even earned it yet, after everything she’s done, and yet you love and forgive her anyways.
“I know you’ve been suffering baby, I’ve seen it. I’m so sorry about what happened to Clint. I’m sorry you feel responsible. I’m sorry you’ve convinced yourself you have to do and be all these things to be worth his sacrifice, it’s not true. I’m sorry I haven’t told you all these things before. I’m sorry I let things get so ugly. That I didn’t realize and push to have this conversation much earlier. I’m sorry I let you get so far away from me, so alone—
Natasha kisses you. Softly, just to shut you up. “Don’t apologize. Please. It’s not your fault.”
You smile, and repeat to her, softly, “It’s not your fault,” and Natasha hides her face in your neck. Soaks you in. Her love, her life, her wife.
“Shhhh baby, It’s all going to be okay now.
