Soft! Natasha Romanoff x Girlfriend!Reader
a/n: i wrote this a very long time ago when i was struggling with my own mental health. i am getting better i think and this fanfic did help, so maybe it can help someone else
cw: angst, self harm, fluff, hurt with comfort
Natasha Romanoff hummed a soft melody to herself as she pushed open the door to her cozy apartment, balancing a couple of shopping bags on one arm. The faint, soothing smell of lavender still lingered in the air, and a smile spread across her face since she knew that it meant her girlfriend had probably lit one of the favorite candles, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. Having set the bags gently down on the floor, Natasha took a moment to stretch out her body, feeling the muscles sore from the day's demanding activities; still, her heart felt light and joyful at the thought of coming home to the comfort of her space and the company of her loved one.
The apartment was wrapped in a peaceful silence, that kind of still tranquility Natasha had grown to appreciate so much after so many years of turbulent moments and cacophonous noise. As she pulled off her boots with a soft thud, she padded silently along toward the bedroom, a smile growing larger and brighter as she caught sight of her girlfriend, gracefully sprawled across the bed in languid repose. The sun, working through the curtains, danced and played upon her placid and serene face while her chest rose and fell in the steady, soothing rhythm of deep sleep. Natasha paused for a moment, heart swelling with overwhelming affection and warmth for the woman she loved.
“You’re truly beautiful,” she murmured softly under her breath, carefully not wanting to disturb the peaceful tranquility that surrounded them.
She tiptoed closer, gently brushing a strand of errant hair from her girlfriend's face, not wanting to wake her. Natasha was tempted to lie down beside her and take a quiet nap but decided that would be better after freshening up. Taking one last look at the inviting bed, she glided into the en suite bathroom, closing the door behind her to renew herself. The cool tile beneath her feet was quite a change from the warm and cozy atmosphere of the apartment, and as she reached for a towel, Natasha found herself humming softly once more.
At that moment, she knew she was doing it.
A small, almost negligible speck of red was showing against the stark whiteness of the tile floor, positioned conspicuously near the sink area. Natasha furrowed her brow in concern as her instincts rapidly kicked into high gear, alerting her to the unusual sight. She followed the faint, crimson trail, her keen, observant eyes catching sight of yet another spot of red and then yet another one following it. A knot of unease twisted in her stomach as she finally arrived at the trash bin, where her gaze fell upon the alarming sight of a razor blade's edge ominously peeking out from beneath a crumpled tissue.
Natascha was now crouched beside the bin, her breath catching in her throat as the wave of emotions washed over her. Memories flooded back into her mind—painful memories of her past, filled with all the various mechanisms she had employed to cope, which finally scarred her soul with marks that would never go away. With a sense of trepidation, she reached out, fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the tissue, and in that moment, felt a deep connection. Deep down inside, she knew she need not dig any deeper into the contents of the bin to understand what it all meant.
Straightening up, Natasha took a moment to stare at her reflection in the mirror as a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirled through her mind. Her girlfriend had always been her safe haven, the source of comfort that was always there to help make the world less cold and uninviting. The very thought of her having to go through this sort of emotional agony alone was enough to make Natasha's chest ache with a heavy sense of empathy and concern.
She took a deep breath to calm herself down and slowly backed into the room. Her girlfriend was still asleep, peaceful, and that look on her face only made Natasha's heart swell in her chest. Natasha paused for just a fraction of a second before slowly sitting down gently on the edge of the bed. Her hand reached out to gently touch her girlfriend's arm with a soft, tender gesture.
"Hey, my love," Natasha said softly, her voice still calm and composed, though a storm was raging inside her. "Could you please wake up?"
Her girlfriend began to stir from her slumber, slowly blinking her eyes open in a dazed manner. “Nat?” she mumbled softly, her voice thick and heavy with the remnants of sleep. “You’re back home?”
"Yes, it's true, I'm home, "Natasha responded. Natasha was smiling gently, and her voice was even gentle, though beneath the tenderness of her smile lay a thin layer of worry. She waited patiently to give the girlfriend time to fully home her vision to assure this was where she was keeping her focus. "Do you think we could possibly talk for just a brief moment?"
Her girlfriend frowned slightly and sat up. "What's wrong?"
Natasha reached out and took her hands, gently, into her own with a delicate touch. "I… I saw something weird in the bathroom," she began, choosing her words carefully, her voice a fragile balance of softness and resolve. "There was some blood there. And a razor, too."
Her girlfriend's eyes widened in shock, face flushing a rosy shade as a mixture of embarrassment and fear flooded her face. She tried to pull her hands away from Natasha, but Natasha still held her with a light grip, not releasing.
"Hey," Natasha said, her voice calm and comforting in its tone. "It's all right. I want you to know I'm not mad at you at all, and I certainly am not judging you. I just.I really do want to understand what's going through that mind of yours. Will you talk to me, please?
Tears were starting to gather and form in her girlfriend's eyes, glistening as they threatened to spill over, and she looked away instinctively, her shoulders hunching down in a manner that seemed to indicate that she was attempting to make herself appear smaller, almost as if she wished she could just disappear. Natasha's heart almost broke at the sight of her girlfriend so distressed yet, in that moment, remained patient and calm, using her thumbs gently to brush soothing circles on her girlfriend's hands in a gesture calming and reassuring.
"I didn't want you to know," her girlfriend finally whispered, her voice trembling with emotion and vulnerability. "It's stupid, I know it is, and I fully recognize that. But sometimes… sometimes it feels like the only way to cope with everything that's happening around us."
She nodded to indicate her understanding, her expression a fusion of softness and gravity. "It's not stupid," she said with great conviction, her voice very firm. "Pain. it's just the way it is—a slippery little devil that gets us feeling trapped inside its infinite cycle. And sometimes, trying to get out of it, we do things that, at the moment, perhaps are not the best choice in respect to our well-being. I understand precisely where you're coming from.".
Her girlfriend's eyes lifted to meet hers, filled with a sense of question and seeking. "You really do?"
Natasha's gaze, which had been intense and focused, slowly softened as she allowed another layer of her emotions to show. She shifted one of her hands, letting it move from its resting place to trace the thin scar that marked her own wrist. "I do," she said, her voice level but full of earnestness. "I've been there, in that very hard place. And I know how hard it is to open up and talk about it. But you don't have to go through this struggle all by yourself. Not when I'm right here by your side, ready to support you."
The tears welled up and overflowed at that moment, cascading down her cheeks, and her girlfriend let out a shaky sob that echoed the deep pain she was feeling. Instinctively, Natasha wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close in a gesture of comfort while she softly cried.
Not a word was spoken, nor did she try to offer empty words of reassurance that might have been an insincere gesture at that moment. Instead, she just held her tightly, her hands gently moving up and down her back in a rhythmic fashion, trying to convey all the love and support in her heart. As her girlfriend's heart-wrenching sobs finally subsided into a succession of small, quiet sniffles, Natasha took a moment to pull back a little, allowing herself the chance to look deep into her eyes.
"We can sort this out together," she said softly and reassuringly, her voice filled with warmth and compassion. "There's no shame at all in asking for help, and I want you to know that I'll be with you every step of this way. Okay? Her girlfriend nodded slowly and uncertainly, her hands holding onto Natasha's shirt tightly, as if she was filled to overflowing with a deep fear of having to let her go. "Okay," she whispered softly, barely above a murmur. Natasha smiled tenderly and leaned in for a soft kiss against her forehead, her voice full of soft conviction.
"Good, because you're too important to me, to let you go through this difficult time alone." They sat there for what felt like a very long time, the silent heft of the discussion looming in the air between them, creating an ambiance present but not overwhelming or choking them.
For the first time in what felt like ages, her girlfriend could perceive a small spark of hope budding inside of her, that maybe, just maybe, there was a way that things could get better and would. And Natasha? She was the one who wisely and carefully decided to be the solid rock her girlfriend so badly needed at this time, just as she had played that role for her many times before.
Together they would meet and ride out the impending stormy weather—one cautious step at a time—making sure they stayed strong and united.
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