#Mob Control | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkwaveho · 10 months ago

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Damage Control: In the night

Summary: You’re not estranged when it comes to your girlfriend breaking in and entering your room unannounced but the reason behind it is what constantly eats away at you but tonight you no longer keep quiet about it. (Basically an injured Natasha using your room as a safe house.)

Pairings:Mob!Natasha x reader

Warnings: brief mention of abuse, hurt-comfort, small mention of blood, fluff? Brief smut.

Series Main masterlist

You lay there without fear or concern seeing as you’re already aware of who that could be entering your window. Small noises are heard, and the bed barely shifts after a few moments you will yourself to open your eyes with intentions to turn fully towards the cold body in your bed. Strong arms stop you in your tracks holding you in place. “Go back to sleep.”

The sound of her voice is so much richer within the nighttime it almost distracts you from what you know to be the truth. You needed to look at her, you needed to see her face before you even gave yourself the opportunity to even think about sleep anymore. Of course, Natasha isn’t going to budge, and she knows you aren’t either, that’s exactly why her grip around you grows stronger as you continue to fight against her. You huff with annoyance before finally saying something to her.

“Let me see you.” It’s silent for a moment, a moment too long in your opinion that lets you know what type of late-night visit this is. “It’s fine, I’m fine, now just go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you up.” She dismisses any concern that you have as always. “What was the reason this time?” You don’t fight against her anymore, you simply just lay there as she’s pressed against your back. Maybe she’d talk about it in detail this time.

“Same as always.” Her response shouldn’t be a response she’s accustomed to but that was the reality of her life and burden of being placed in a situation where she’s responsible for everything and nothing other than perfection is accepted and even then, sometimes it wasn’t enough to save her from a fist and bruises littered across her body. You managed to turn around while her guard was down to finally assess the damage. You stare at her shadowy figure holding back your emotions. If you got too sentimental it would become too much for Natasha and in an instant, she’d be gone, you know because it’s happened before. She sports a black eye, a bruised lip and a few bruises on her shoulders. Her tank top still has dried blood on it. You don’t know if all of it is hers or not and you’re not going to ask. You quickly shift your thoughts on anything else sensing her fight or flight reaction beginning to start. You look away from her quickly as you sit up in bed you get up and head start for your dresser drawer. As you fumble through it, Natasha watches you the entire time and doesn’t say anything else. You turn to her as you throw a change of clothes at her. You aren’t doing a good job of hiding your frustration but then again you don’t care about hiding it. You’re sick of it, you're sick of her being treated this way and you’re sick of seeing her bloody and bruised by the hand that’s shot to protect her. Natasha glares at the spread out clothes on the bed and snaps her eyes at you. “I didn’t come here for pity, I don’t need a change of clothes. The clothes I have on are just fine.”

“Those clothes are not fine, YOU are not fine Nat! You don’t need a reminder of what happened, your face is doing that all on its own.” You harshly whisper into the night. Your breathing is uneven, your head is starting to pound. It's four in the morning. You had very little energy to deal with this than you normally would have. Natasha wants you to forget about it, she wants you to not worry about her, she is enduring. She’s taking whatever comes her way to finish to the end. In the end when she’s the one running things in the family business. When she’s the one people are afraid of. When she has the power to make or end anyone she chooses. “I said, I don’t need pity.” She grabs the clothes and tosses them to the other side of the room with no guilt or remorse on her face. You want to kick her out, you want to yell at her for being stupid and stubborn. But you know, you know she wants to push you just to take the easy way out. She wants to find any little thing for her to run away from you and for the first time you’re starting not to care about her running away from you and her feelings.

“Then why did you come here?” She doesn’t have an answer for that she never has an answer for it at least not out loud, being in a relationship and dealing with expressing her emotions was still new to her. “If you didn’t come here for pity or to be cared for then leave out the same way you came because I’m not just going to keep ignoring this Nat, the way he treats you is not right. I’m sorry, I can’t be a shitty girlfriend and ignore the abuse that he causes you so if that’s what you want and if that’s what you’re looking for you’re wasting your time with me, I’ll never be okay with anyone hurting you.” “I’ll never be okay with you putting yourself through torture because you think you deserve it. You don’t deserve it Natalia.” You get back into your bed snatching your blanket on top of you and you make sure to turn over with your back facing Natasha. You can’t even see her facial expression right now, she’s in pure shock and an unfamiliar feeling that won’t go away is at the pit of her stomach. Her skin finally feels warm after walking in the cold for an hour to get to you. You once again feel the bed shift ready for your ears to hear the shut of your window but it never comes. There is nothing but silence.You're scared to turn around and be disappointed by her leaving instead of accepting the love and care that you constantly try giving her. The love and care she always rejects. Those deep thoughts are removed when strong arms wrap themselves around you again. this time pulling you closer. Her breath hits the back of your neck sending a chill down your spine. Her hands slightly tremble before getting more firm against your body. You don’t know if it's because of her bruised knuckles or if she’s actually nervous. “Sorry.” It’s all she says, it's all she can say at the moment but you’ll accept it seeing as how hard it is to even get her to apologize in the first place for anything.

“Will you let me get the first aid kit?” Natasha sighs, she still wasn’t fond of being catered to and being seen as weak. She silently nods her head against yours. You silently get up from the bed and tell Natasha to put the clean clothes on. While also being careful about making as little noises as possible, you honestly don’t know if your father is home or not as of late things have been very busy for him and the family. You return from the bathroom with the kit handing her the box to do it herself. You don’t want to be overly pushy when it comes to stuff like this, plus she’s quicker to get it done than you are. She finally undresses and you honestly weren’t expecting to see more bruises with each piece of clothing hitting the floor. She’s waiting for you to say something about them, ready for an excuse to lash out and push you away again. After seeing the extra wound you look away giving her some sense of privacy instead of making her feel like a displayed punching bag. You don't forget to subtly sit an icepack near her the way her eye is swelled up. It would most likely be shut closed by the morning time if not iced at the bare minimum. You ignore the way she huffs out a force of air through her nose, she is irritated but she still hasn’t snapped at you for it, not yet. You make your way back to the bed facing away from her. When she’s done treating her wounds and putting on the new night clothes you gave her she enters the bed again. There is a brief moment of silence before her stomach growls loudly, you feel her become stiff as if that would make her hunger disappear. “Are you hungry?”

“No” she replies immediately, it fascinates you how she’s quickly able to lie through her teeth. You raise an accusing eyebrow just as her hunger makes itself known once more, even louder than the first time. “Liar” Natasha sighs in defeat and finally answers truthfully. “Fine, I didn’t eat dinner. I was too busy internally bleeding.” She attempts to make a lighthearted joke that you don’t find funny at all. You poke her in her ribs. Natasha hisses in pain, the pain was so bad that she was nearly yelling out loud. Thankfully you’re quick by covering her mouth with your hands. “Shh, shut up!” You shush her cries and grunts of pain. When she’s calmed down a bit you finally remove your hands from her mouth. “What the fuck was that for?” She is still trying to steady her breathing and manage her pain. “I didn’t find that joke very funny, asshole.” You unwrap yourself from her embrace, without a word you stop in front of your bedroom door. “Promise me you won’t be gone when I come back?” You give a look of seriousness because she’s done it plenty of times leaving you without a word for a job, just because or simply because of her being overstimulated by emotions. “Fuck off.” She’s still upset about you poking at her wounds. You know her response is not in a malicious way so you ignore it. “Natasha, I’m serious.” She gives you her signature smirk remembering the last few times she’s done that to you, as she crosses an X over her heart. “And hope to die.” You nod once in agreement, anytime Natasha used that it meant she was serious about keeping her word. It’s a weird arrangement but it works in a twisted, melancholy way. You leave the room quickly and quietly, not taking long to prepare a snack. You return with her still in the same spot you left her in. You hand her a plate with a sandwich and a glass of milk to wash it down with. “I made your favorite, peanut butter and banana.” She can never just take things as they are so you weren’t surprised when she had a sarcastic response shooting from her mouth.“You gonna tuck me in and read me a story too?”

“I’m close to throwing you out my window now, do you want the food or not because I can give it to the other strays that would actually appreciate it.”

“Did you basically just call me a stray cat?” Your irritation grows more intense why? Why does she insist on being so difficult, especially at a time like this? “Yes, yes I did. Do you want it or not? I'm tired Nat.” You hold the plate and the cold glass out for her to reach. It takes a moment but after a brief pause she takes the food from you and nods her head. You know she’s thankful for it. You won’t be difficult with her tonight. After handing her the food you return to bed with the intention of going back to sleep on the verge you feel her hands wrapped around you. Her face pressed against yours and the smell of peanut butter invaded your nose. “Thank you.” Those two words weren’t just meant for the sandwich. Those two words were universal for Natasha; that's just how her brain worked. It was a thank you for everything not just tonight but other nights that have passed when she needed shelter like this. She ends her thanks with a kiss to your lips. “You’re welcome.”

“Tash?”

“Hm?”

“What if you left some of your clothes here for when this happens?” You don’t want to enable this situation but it’s evidently clear that this isn’t going to change anytime soon. Her father’s temper won’t change. His views on her life choices won’t change. Natasha’s mindset on leaving this life all together and running away with you won’t ever change. After a moment of awkward silence Natasha finally responds. “What am I a pet?”

“No, I just thought it would be more convenient…actually forget I said anything.” You turn away from her again. You don’t want her to see how overly mushy and clingy you’re being right now.

“Fine, I guess a few clothes won’t hurt.” Her voice comes out low and gentle. With that unexpected response you face her again ignoring the strained grunt that comes out of her mouth from the bed shifting. You place a small kiss to her nose and snuggle up to her chest. You massage her scalp gently knowing it helps her fall asleep faster. There’s still just one more thing in your mind and you have to ask her while she’s all buttered up. You were taking the crown for ultimate opportunist tonight.

“One more thing.” She groaned, she was actually tired now and her social meter was at its lowest point right now. “What now? And make it quick, I’m tired.” You want to slap her arm but remember the uncertainty of your father being home yet. Her breath fans over your cheek and her heartbeat finds a comfortable rhythm. Now’s your chance. “Promise me that you’ll be here in the morning when I wake up.” You hate the vulnerability in your voice sometimes you hate how much you display affection more than Natasha does. You shouldn’t be anxious to ask her for something so minuscule, but she doesn’t function like others would in a normal relationship. This was not a normal relationship no matter how bad you want it to be. “Promise.” She says it almost too fast for you. It was untrustworthy; she's known for ghosting you. “Not scared about daddy catching us together anymore?” It’s not a malicious question but the teasing is evident in her voice. She’s playing it cool right now but she was also in the same position. At times she’s being overly aware and cautious about how much time she spends away from the meeting in your fathers home office, how much she’s constantly timing herself knowing Alexei is doing the same waiting to catch her doing something so insignificant just to reprimand her. There were even times your father almost caught you two in uncompromising situations, when Natasha isn’t supposed to even be near you at all. Sometimes she's so cautious that she would ignore you completely while she was downstairs. She’s only been able to sneak away a few times to have a quick moment with you and even then that wasn’t enough for you. (It wasn’t enough for her either but you don’t know that yet.)

“Truthfully, l wouldn’t care if he found out. I just want you safe.” Once again Natasha curses in her mind another mushy moment that she can’t seem to deny tonight. She raises her hand over your chest. The action isn’t what you were expecting at first but then she crosses an X over your heart and whispers. “I promise.” She kisses you hard, taking your breath away, she clenches to you with need and purpose. You release a soft moan savoring in the warm embrace as long as she’s allowing you to. “Now please no more talking.” You scoff at her demanding request. “Hey, it’s my room.” She hums softly and shifts to place her face deeper into you, if she could jump into your skin right now she would but she’ll never tell you that. Natasha always needs the last word, so she mumbles into your neck. “Not while I’m in your bed, it’s not.” You mumble a sleepy ‘Whatever’ and let the rest of the early morning take over you. You needed rest but most importantly Natasha needed it more than anything right now. It’s honestly taking everything in you not to throw on your clothes and drag her to the emergency room but then you know she’ll ghost you for doing it.

You know she’ll leave you wondering about her wellbeing as retaliation. She’s done it before , going radio silent without a care in the world knowing how much it affects you. So you shake those invading thoughts and force yourself into a deep sleep. The morning comes and your body feels light, too light. You’re scared to open your eyes right now. You don’t want to be on the receiving end of disappointment. Being lied to even when you have the best intentions of keeping her safe. It sucks. It more than sucks, it’s honestly heartbreaking but you swallow the hurt and open your eyes to an empty bed. She’ll never change. You check your phone for time and it’s almost noon. You’re surprised your father hasn’t checked in on you yet but then again you didn’t even know if he was home. You toss your phone on the bed quickly turning over to scream your frustrations into your silk pillowcase. This isn’t nearly enough to keep your emotions in control but you get up from the bed to start your morning routine. Whatever you had planned to do with Natasha is not happening anymore.You'll find something expensive to buy with your credit card to cope with it. After a long hot shower you return to your room and the moments from early morning flash into your mind that you can’t keep it together anymore. You won’t be silent about this. You won’t endure pain just because she does. You stomp towards your bed with determination, you grab your phone angrily tapping away at the screen. Her phone goes straight to voicemail. Did she block your number? You never leave voicemails as it’s too dangerous in Natasha’s words but you’re angry not thinking clearly. “You think this is funny? You think you can walk all over me and my feelings? You promised, fuck that you crossed your heart! I swear I don’t know what you want from me.” You pace back and forth around your room. “I don’t know what I can do to show you how much I care about you and how much good you deserve in this world. Until you can give me an answer I don’t want to see your face, you lying piece of shit!” Just as you yell those words your window opens up and the first thing you see in the reflection of your vanity mirror is a black leather boot. You swiftly turn around as Natasha stands there.

“Who’s a lying piece of shit?” You don’t answer her as you end the voicemail and toss your phone on the bed. Your silence is becoming awkward for her. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? And why do you look like you’re about to breathe fire out of your mouth?”

“You left.”

“What?”

“You left, and you promised that you would stay.” Natasha walks back to the window and ducks down, her body half way through the opening before she grabs something and closes it completely. She brings a bag to your eye view. “I went to get you breakfast.”

“What? You don’t do that, that’s not something you do.”

“Oh, thanks I’ll remember that next time I want to do something for my girlfriend.” Natasha tosses the bag of food down on your desk and does nothing to hide her annoyed response. “Sorry.” Natasha brushes past your apology, she doesn’t get angry about it. She doesn’t fault you for her repeated patterns. She instead changes the subject. “Is the offer still on the table?” She stands there with a clenched jaw and an unwavering stare. Her eyes never leave yours, it's becoming too much right now.whatever is going to come out of her mouth is clearly stressing her out to even say out loud. “What offer?”

“Ya know, the whole dresser drawer girlfriend privilege thing.” You swear you saw a ghost of a grin, it was so quick you'd miss it if you blinked. Natasha was actually loving this new found step in the relationship. Just from the sound of the title, she’d be lying if she said she isn't making her day better. She can’t keep it a secret, it’s not like she didn’t rummage through your drawers anyway she might as well have some of her own in there as well. You smile at her trying to soften up the reasoning behind the drawer being offered in the first place. You’re glad she isn’t seeing it as a pity offering and finally accepting some of the perks of being in a safe space.

“Yes, of course it is.” You try not to sound too eager, if you failed Natasha doesn’t comment on it. She nods in agreement and heads back out the window leaving you confused until she brings her backpack in with her and once again shutting the window. You want to ask her if she went back home for those clothes. You want to yell at her if she did return knowing you wanted her safe. With one look she can tell what’s going on in your mind and she’s quick to ease it. “Yelena, packed it for me.” She gently tugs at her bruised bottom lip ignoring the pain and starts unzipping the bag and placing her clothes into a drawer. You don’t say anything, you let her do whatever she wants. You let her have confidence and pride in placing her belongings with yours.

When she’s done you rush over to her, pulling her into a bruising kiss that knocks her back into your dresser. She releases a low grunt from the contact and allows you to take control. After a moment you pull away from her lips. She looked dazed and breathless. “I’m sorry.” You kiss her again. The first kiss catches her off guard but she immediately holds you firmly against her. “Thank you for the breakfast.” You kiss her again. “Thank you for putting your safety first this time.” You pull back as you breathlessly whisper those words against her lips. Her hands tighten against your hips. She wants you close, she needs you close. Her lips take control this time, her tongue brushes against your lips in a silent understanding. You give her access and her tongue immediately enters your mouth. It’s too much to keep up with, she's messy today, normally she’s so calm, collected, and patient but not right now. She can’t right now because she has too much to give to you. Too much appreciation to show you what her words won’t allow. Maybe she’ll get better with that in the future. You have to pull away when you hear the sound of a car door shutting, you’re not sure if it's your father or not but you won't take the chance of being caught. Natasha groans, still chasing your lips. You chuckle at the action and promise her later to continue. You give her one last kiss as you pull away. “Let’s eat this breakfast before it gets cold.” You open the bag and it’s nothing but greasy food, you won’t complain because it’s the thought that counts.

After eating the greasy breakfast you enjoyed the nice moment of just having her company. It was a rare occasion where Natasha got to spend this much time with you. Natasha is going through her tossed away clothes from last night, pulling out her phone she taps away at the screen that you noticed is cracked now. The screen remains black and she turns to you, ignoring your watchful gaze and curious mind. She doesn’t want to talk about it. You remind yourself.

“Hey, can I use your charger, my phone is dead.”

“Yeah sure.” And then you think about it…the voicemail you left. If Natasha’s phone was charged it would’ve ceased your mind about her being gone from your bed this morning. You quickly snatch her phone from her. “Okay?” She looks at you curiously with clenched eyebrows. “I, uh left a not so nice voicemail on your phone when I thought you left, so yeah.” The reaction you get is not what you expected from her. Instead of being upset about it she’s being very playful. “Oh, yeah? Let me hear it.” You frown at her response. You couldn’t stay in the same room with her after letting her hear what you said, because she might leave. You never when Natasha might blow up at you or just leave you in the darkness. There’s also part of you that wants to remain honest with her no matter what. In doing this you hand her the phone anxiously waiting until her phone powers up again while on the charger. Natasha can sense it and it’s the main reason why she wants to hear it. How bad could it be? What’s so horrible about this voicemail? She reflects back to how angry you looked when she came in and she’s not so sure if she even wants to hear it now. Her finger hovers over the play button, she takes a moment to truly think about what the outcome would be if the words you said were too harsh or too real for her to handle. She presses play and she hears it. She hears everything and feels the raw emotions behind your voice. It doesn’t feel good, it's not a feeling she wants to experience again. Sure you’ve had your share of arguments and temporary breakups but this time it would be different. You basically gave her an ultimatum. Show how much you mean to her or stay away from you. She doesn’t even care that you called her a lying piece of shit. If Natasha did ultimately decide to leave this morning and not come back you would be done with her. That’s what’s making her upset. She places her phone Back on the desk to continue charging. She doesn’t say anything to you after hearing the message. She takes her jacket off and tosses it on your chair, she then starts to unlace her boots tossing those as well across your room. You stand there curiously wondering what would happen next. Natasha’s mood can switch quickly through different emotions. Just like now, you aren’t sure what type of Natasha you would get.

“I wanted to do something nice for you and you call me a lying piece of shit.”

“You were gone Nat, you didn’t even leave a note, how was I supposed to know?”

She scoffs, not appreciating your response. “You could have trusted me.” You pinch the bridge of your nose not understanding how your cute and soft moment has turned into an argument…again. “Why are you trying to pick a fight with me right now?”

“I'm not picking a fight, you left the voicemail, not me.”Natasha folds her arms defensively. you sigh deeply, she was indeed picking a fight with you. You’re tired of the push and pull of it all when it comes down to her and this relationship. “Are you serious right now? We already moved past this!”

“No, you moved past this and we both know that you're still upset about it.” She’s right you were still upset about it but you were willing to deal with it on your own. Clearly Natasha isn’t gonna let that happen. “C’mon, I can take it.” you look at her curiously, not knowing where she was heading with this. She steps closer to you repeating herself again. “C’mon you want to let go of your anger? Take it out on me, I'm used to it.”

“Nat, stop.” When it's clear you’re not going to yell at her, shove her or degrade her she pushes you further. She shoves your shoulder lightly the first time then again with more force that sends you stumbling into your dresser. Natasha stalks towards you slowly cornering you against the cherry wood. “You sure you don’t want to hit me? Smack me around a bit?” her jaw is clenched tight, her eyes are glossy but the tears remain concealed in her eyes. “I can’t take it, hit me.”

“Nat.” Your frustration grows, and the more you soak in what’s happening in front of you, the more you hate Alexei. You hate him for making her this way.

“Hit me.” She stares at you baring teeth in an animalistic way. Invading your personal space as she moves closer, her lips just a mere centimeter way from yours.

“No!” You're firm in your answer not holding back your emotion behind it either, but that only riles Natasha up even more.

“Coward.” you roll your eyes at this. You couldn't believe what you were witnessing right now. Your girlfriend needed some serious and immediate therapy. “If that makes me a coward then so be it, but like I said before I’’ll never be okay with seeing you hurt. I’ll never be okay with anyone hurting you, that includes me.” Your response catches her off guard but she maintains her composure, not giving anything away. You’ve had enough, you reached the end of your breaking point. Natasha pushed too far, as much as you want to unpack what just happened just now you can't. The fact that she thought provoking you into hitting her would make things better because she’s used to it is all you need to see. You wont allow yourself to coddle her, for the first time ever. “Get out, I’m not doing this with you.”

Her eyes scan you over, waiting to see if you were luffing. Your stone cold, unwavering and upset. It's when you attempt to move from your spot against the dresser that has Natasha making the first move. She slams her lips against yours with desperation. You are still upset , you don't want to be kissing her, you don't like that she can pull you back in after pulling a stunt like this, but you can’t ignore it. You’re never really strong enough to stay away from her for too long anyway. “I didn’t mean-” this time you’re the one to cut the conversation short. As much as you didn’t want her to trauma dump on you, you were still going to consider the fact that she did share with you in a weird twisted way. “Shut up.” you cup her face pulling her back into the kiss. Her movements are quick, hands moving naturally against your body. You release a soft moan, as Natasha continues her trail beneath the waistband of your jeans. “Nat, your ribs.”

“It’s fine, I’ll deal with it after. You’re more important.” You don't get the chance to protest against her selflessness. “Nat what if-” her hand slams against your mouth, cutting off any excuse you were trying to give her. She wasn't interested in hearing it. Truth be told she's using this as an excuse herself to let out her own previous frustrations, it is not entirely about an angry voicemail you left. “I. don’t. fucking. care.” Each word ends with a deep thrust. your eyes widen, you clench around her fingers. She’s moving more quickly than usual. Her movements still have the same impact under these circumstances. She's focused on your body and how you’re reacting and nothing else. Everything else is white noise. Your moan is muffled, your throat is burning with restraint. “What was that?”

“I Can’t hear you baby, speak up.” She kisses your cheek and drags her lips against your skin towards your earlobe. “Look at you, leaking down my hand.” For a quick moment she looks down at the mess you’ve made all over her fingertips. The sight

“Am I a lying piece of shit?” you quickly shake your head, denying your own words. A condescending pout makes ”Say you’re sorry.” she removes her hand from your mouth, basically snatching it away. “Im- fuck, I’m sorry.”

“You were worried about me?” it's not a soft moment, she’s teasing you. Almost as if she's making fun of you for having human emotions, something she doesn't really seem to have. It doesn't phase you, you're used to it. The question was rhetorical, she knows you were. You’re always worried about her. This was for her own ears to hear. To hear that she mattered beyond being an attack dog or used as a pawn. Natasha kisses you softly this time, a change of emotion. “Cum for me.” Natasha's pace picks up, she flexes her muscles until they burn. She doesn’t care, she just wants to please you right now, she wants to feel your want and need for her. It sends you over the edge, your walls clench with desperation against Natasha's nimble fingers, you grip her hand pausing her further movements of trying to drag you through another round. She pulls back slightly, resting her forehead against yours waiting for you to catch your breath.

“I’m not trying to fuck this up y/n.” it was a form of an apology and once again you would accept it. You nod slowly letting her words sink in. “I know, and I know you’ll probably never talk to me about it in detail, but just know you can. You don’t have to keep it bottled up inside and you don’t have to provoke me to release your frustrations.” her only response is to kiss you. Kiss you hard. The sudden movement of her pulling away from you in pain raised alarms in your mind.

“Natasha, what’s wrong?” She’s clenching her side groaning in pain.you knew you should've done more to stop her. The untreated wounds are clearly more than what they seem.

Natasha starts coughing relentlessly, causing immediate concern especially when you’ve noticed the blood in the palm of her hand. “Natasha, get your shoes on now I’m taking you to the hospital.” She pulls away from you and shakes her head. “No, I’m-“ You cut her off, not letting the same words come out of her mouth. You’re sick of hearing it. “I swear if you finish that sentence.” You don’t want all the progress she’s made to be for nothing but you also want her to make the right choice. “They’ll ask questions and I’m not in the mood to play family feud.”

“What about Melina?” Natasha releases a heavy sigh and shakes her head. “No, I don’t want to see her either.” Now you’re really curious to know what happened. If Natasha doesn’t want help from her mother something major occurred at that house. You might have to badger Yelena about it later; she can never keep things away from you like her sister can. “Okay then, I know someone who can help.” You nervously bite your lip anxiously as you gather yourself for the potential response she could give you just from hearing one name. “Who?” She leans towards her left side placing all the weight of her body on her leg. She grunts slowly, still trying to contain her pain level and it fails, it fails miserably in your watchful gaze. “Val.” Natasha’s eyes snapped at you, anger was beyond describing her expression right now. She growls through her clenched jaw, baring her teeth like some type of wildlife animal on a hunt or protecting its own. You won’t like a possessive and feral Natasha was always a win for you but this comes down to life or death, especially with how stubborn she is. You’d drag her down the front steps all the way to Valkyrie’s private medical facility she’s interning at without a care in the world about the nasty and insulting things she’d throw at you.

“No fucking way, I’d rather bleed out.” Natasha says flatly, there is no smirk, grin or playful tone to her response. She was being serious, a bit dramatic but nonetheless serious. “Don’t say shit like that asshole. You need medical attention and since you don’t want that on record this is the way we have to go…unless you want to tell me why you don't want your own mother to help.” Natasha contemplates on her choices, she really hates Valkyrie but in this instance she really didn’t want to see her mother. Natasha grumbles as she moves away to put her boots and jacket back on. You take the actions as her accepting defeat, you move around the room to put your shoes on and grab your keys. As you move to open your door Natasha places a quick and firm hand against yours. “What are you doing?” she raises an eyebrow at your actions. “I’m opening the door?” you mirror her same expression clearly not understanding what the problem was.

“You want me to walk out the front door? You would think you're the one internally bleeding right now.”

“Are you seriously gonna go out the window again?” Now you understand, but you won’t waste this opportunity to tease her like she did to you. “Oh, look who's scared now?” Your grin is enough to pull an unamused frown on Natasha’s face. With the possibility of your father being home and the injuries, she’s facing, Natasha would only slow you down. Ultimately leading to another brawl between her and your father, she barely has enough energy to stand on her own right now. She's truly indulging the pain. Natasha didn't want to risk it. Is it stupid, dumb and carless to go out of a window and climb down the side of a balcony? Yes, but it's what she has to do.

“Shut up and grab me a snack from the kitchen on your way out.” Natasha gives you a quick peck, steps away from you and heads towards the window. Your girlfriend is an asshole but she's your asshole and, in the night, when you get to hold her again the arguments you two had today will mean nothing, as long as she's safe in your arms. you'll care for her; you'll love her in the night.

#damage control au #natasha romanoff x reader #mob!natsha romanoff x reader

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darkwaveho · 8 months ago

Text

Mini Burden

Summary: The aftermath of Natasha doing the unthinkable to her daughter.

Mob!Natasha Romanoff x reader, Mob!Natasha Romanoff x Oc!daughter

Warnings: hurt comfort, angst?, mentions of abuse, mentions of spanking, ptsd?, unpacked truama, fluff?

Previous part

series masterlist

It’s been a week and every day since Natasha has blown up your phone with calls and messages, you've ignored them all. Even blocked her number all together. That didn't stop her from using an unknown number. The last few days you had to shower Anastasia with a lot of tender care. It was a pretty traumatic experience for her. Not used to being on the receiving end of a harsh slap or harsh words can really break you down mentally no matter the age. This memory will forever be burned into your brain, the thoughts of you holding her while she asks why her mama hit her or why did her mama hate her. Her curious mind has questions, and she needs the answers, but the truthful answers are only ones Natasha can give.

Your mind drifts away to these thoughts while you're giving Anastasia a bath. It takes for a flick of warm water to your face for you to come back to reality. You gasp immediately from the contact as Anastasia laughs. “Alright, sweet pea time to get out now.” she immediately hits you with a small, adorable pout. “A few more minutes mommy, please?” she has been in here long enough usually you use the finger prune method for her bath time, and her tiny fingers are way past the pruning stage. You sigh, not really seeing the herm in a few more minutes but you're exhausted. You've been taking Anastasia to school from this hotel, getting her ready, making dinner, breakfast, and lunch. It was a lot on you to do with your mind being elsewhere.

Not only has Natasha been bugging you Yelena has as well, she didn't take up for Natasha, but she also did not fully side with you, she didn't agree with what Natasha did, but she also thinks that you're overreacting for a small pop on the butt. You can't believe you are the only one with sense in this situation in the entire family dynamic. A knock at the door pulls you back out of your mind; you turn back to Anastasia as she waits for your response to her question that you never answered.

“A few more minutes and you’re out princess, I don't want my baby all pruned forever.” you don't shut the bathroom door as you leave out of your room just in case something happens, you're able to be alert and quick. As you make your way to the hotel room door you pause. Contemplating what you were going to do next. You didn't want to cause a scene, but you also don't want to deal with this. Through the peephole you see Natasha standing on the other side waiting patiently for you to open the door. God she can never take a hint and just let things play out, she can never just allow you space and for you to come back on your own after an argument or misunderstanding. Reluctantly you open the door, the immediate change in Natasha's demeanor shows. She’s attempted to straighten up her posture to look more confident, but you see through it. Just taking one look at her you know she’s not her usual self.

“Hey.” Natasha releases a small breath, a relief of seeing your face even if it wasn’t being reciprocated by you. It doesn’t make sense to ask how she found you, you know how. You’d never be able to fully slip away from her no matter how hard you try. You don’t answer her, you simply stare back into her waiting for her to get to the point. Waiting to hear her excuses, apologies, or if she’d spew out more harmful nonsense like she did a few days ago. She looks tired, determined and broken behind her eyes. It’s clear to her that you don’t want to speak to her yet, if at all. So, she gets to the point of her being here.

“I would like to speak with Ana.” her initial response shocks you, she isn't even attempting to coax you into forgiving her first she’s direct about her mission tonight. She's here to fix things with Anastasia first. She’s asking, not demanding. Her ego and her power trip must’ve worn off within those three days of an empty house. you're still not sure about her request. The aftermath of everything took a huge toll on Anastasia. You're not sure how she’ll react to Natasha, if she wanted to see her or if she even felt safe enough to be near her own mother again. Natasha can see you pondering on it; she knows the word ‘no’ is right at the tip of your tongue. So, she does the one thing that she knows will get you to soften up. “Please.”

I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Shake your head and cross your arms as a protective response, this might be too soon of a conversation to have.

“Look I know I said some shitty things to you and about the way you parent. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for questioning your methods and putting blame on you because I didn’t know what to do in that situation or how to handle it.” Your silence is deafening to her. The desperation is real and slowly releasing from her body. “Y/n.” She searches for your eyes. She wants your approval, she needs it. “I just want to talk to her. To see her.”

A heartfelt and genuine apology you can count on one hand how many times you’ve received an apology like that from her. This was different, she struck her daughter. She frightened her and you as well. The moment of contemplation is nearly over. The final judgment is about to come out of your mouth, but warm, sweaty hands take hold in yours but between lies a crumpled texture. When you see the image in your hand the breath you release is involuntary. The painful memories are all coming back. You never wanted to see them again, hell you never wanted to take those photos of her in the first place. Never in a million years did you think that she would open the file. She’s been so good at running away or compartmentalizing her trauma.

It also pains you that she went through this trauma again alone. You want to say more you want to be there for her but you’re not sure if this is the right timing. This is bringing a whole new baggage into Anastasia’s world. A world where someone hurt her mama, a world where not only would she visually see it in her mind but physically on an old Polaroid picture. You can only shake your head hoping to rid yourself of those thoughts.

You clear your throat trying to remain firm on your stance but the sight in front of you makes it hard. Natasha stands in front of you with vulnerable eyes and you’ve noticed the subtle twitch of her fingers the moment you opened the door, all signs of her nervousness and anxiety. “Please.” She pushes again with that word. She’s trying hard not to break down right now; she'll save it for when she’s back home alone drowning in her own darkness. She relieved her past trauma alone in that house for three days with no comfort. The reality of it is you don’t know the reaction your daughter will have. You step back, and from the looks of it Natasha expects you to open the door for her entrance however she’s clearly mistaken when the door slams in her face. She stands there with her mouth gaped and her mind racing with all the ways she could have said something better. How she could have had a better outcome. She snaps out of her own head when the door opens again, this time with more than enough room for entry. “Dramatic much?” She’s snarky as she walks into the room. “Very.” You’re dismissive with her words, she's here to make amends with her daughter, you on the other hand will not be so forgiving, that takes a proper conversation between you two. You swiftly turnaround ignoring the way Natsaha's gaze lingered on your body. “I don't want her seeing that photo.” you point towards Natasha's jacket pocket.

The rim of the polaroid sticking out of her pocket haunts you with memories of your own that you wish to have erased. Natasha takes that as relief, she’s stared at the photo enough the past few days to become sick from it. She wouldn’t want to bring more of her past trauma and dump it on Anastasia anymore than she already has. Natasha nods her head in agreement with you and the award silence and tension fills the room. You quickly find an excuse to exit from being under her gaze. A soft, vulnerable Natasha is a weakness that you fear you will never be able to truly resist. You nod towards the door behind you. “She’s just finishing up her bath.” Natasha nods in understanding knowing how hard it is to get Ana out of the bath sometimes. Natasha grins at the thought but still awkwardly looks around the luxury hotel room doing anything to avoid your gaze. She feels like a guilty puppy right now. “You don’t have to stand, you know.”

“I’m fine.”

“You need to relax, you’re fidgeting Natasha.” She looks down at her fingers and instantly stalls her movements. She hadn’t realized she was doing that. “I’ll be back, sit down Nat.” You nod towards the sofa and leave her with a look that was not up for debate. Natasha sits down and thinks about what she wants to say to her daughter and most importantly how she wants to say it.

“Hey, monster.” Natasha's greeting receives no response, just a blank stare as if the young girl is looking at a stranger. Still Natasha pushes through, not letting the small change in communication deter her from making things right. Under any other circumstances Ana would’ve run into Natasha's arms practically knocking the air out of her but she still remains in her spot standing near you, she hasn't moved an inch or said a word. You and Natasha share a brief look between each other. Natasha clears her throat as she talks to Ana from her spot on the couch.

“Are you enjoying your time with mommy?” silence. You rub Ana's shoulders for comfort letting her know that everything is fine and that she doesn’t have to be guarded. That she's not in trouble. That her mama isn't angry with her. “Ana, mama is speaking to you.” She looks up at you and goes back to Natasha. “Yes.” Natasha briefly smiles before finding something else to continue the conversation. “What did you do today?” Natasha remains hopeful as she studies her daughter's face. She hasn't seen her in days, so she makes sure to take in every little detail. Her brown locks are coiled and damped from her bath. She’s in her favorite dinosaur pajamas that you and Natasha have to hide sometimes just so she can wear her other clothes and she always tops it off with her pink fluffy socks. The brief moment of analyzing is reminding Natasha that her actions can cause this to be a permanent arrangement where she only gets to see Ana on certain days. No longer under her presence 24/7.

“Mommy took me swimming in the big pool today.” Anastasia avoids all eye contact as she plays with her fingers, staring at a spot on the fancy rug. “That’s awesome, that means you've gotten better at your breathing techniques.” Natasha tries to keep the flow of conversation going but she's hit with another wall. An awkward tension. It's clear Ana won't go towards Natasha on her own and the hurt behind Natasha's eyes is too much to bear, so you come up with an excuse. You bend down slightly to gather Ana’s attention as you softly speak to her. “Hey, sweetie, I'm gonna run to the store for your dino nuggets, why don't you go sit with mama and tell her more about your hotel stay.” You gently nudge her forward as a sign to get closer to her mother but before you can even step away your movements are halted by a strong and tiny hand.

“Don’t go mommy.” She clutches on to your hand with a vice grip. The strength of your six-year-old was truly remarkable. The scene in front of Natasha breaks her heart. Her daughter was afraid of being left alone with her; she's scared of Natasha. It's taking everything in herself to not cry, to not stand up and leave, ultimately accepting this now tarnished mother daughter relationship. “It's going to be okay Ana; I won’t be long I promise.” That does nothing for the grip she has on you. She tugs your sleeve a little more silently begging for you to come closer to her. She looks back to Natasha on the couch and back to you as she lowly whispers in your ear.

“I don't want mama to get mad at me again.”

“I won’t, I’m not angry with you, Ana.” Natasha finally stands up wiping her sweaty hands on her slacks and moves closer to you two. The distance has become too much, almost suffocating to her. “I was wrong for doing that to you.” She swallows the harsh lump in her throat. She can't believe this is the conversation she is going to have with Ana. “I know that scared you, and I’m sorry.”

“Why did you do it?” The question packs a heavy punch that also requires a heavy answer that Natasha will have to censor for her daughter to understand and to not be afraid of the information. “I didn’t know how to stop you from having a tantrum. I’m still learning how to be a good mom for you. I try every day.” You want to cut in now, you want to erase what just came out of her mouth. You want to interrupt and tell her that she is a good mother despite her bumps on the road. Despite this incident or another incident, she’s always redeemed herself from her past mistakes and learned from them. You choose to remain silent and tell her these exact words in private right now it is about her and Ana. “You know my father didn’t put me in timeout or use a countdown.” she chuckles dryly as if this was something even remotely funny. It isn't. A clear coping mechanism to her being vulnerable and open.

“What did he do?” Anastasia's curiosity piques interest. You on the other hand weren't sure if this was appropriate for Ana's ears no matter how hard Natasha wanted her to understand where her head was in that store when she struck her. She can't bring herself to say it; a flash of memories invades her mind as she stares blankly into the open room. You definitely were not leaving this room now that Natasha has opened this door. You clear your throat, combing your fingers through Ana's hair as a gentle way to put focus on you instead.

“He hurt mama, he hurt her very badly and treated her terribly.” At this newfound information Anastasia frowns deeply. The thought of someone hurting Natasha saddens her. She doesn't even know Alexei, you and Natasha, both made it a point to never have her in the same room as him. She releases your hand and finally walks towards Natasha's frozen figure. Natasha suddenly snaps out of it at the feeling of her jacket sleeve being tugged. Looking down she’s met with familiarity and comfort. Her daughter's eyes.

“I’m sorry you were hurt, mama.” Natasha allows herself to release her tears, taking on the emotions that she’s kept bottled up for years to finally overflow. “I'm sorry for hurting you.” She pulls Anastasia into a hug and mumbles the words on the side of Ana's face as she deeply inhales and exhales. She pulls back from the embrace tucking the left side of Ana's hair behind her ear. She holds an unwavering eye contact with the six-year-old. “I will never hurt you like that again, okay?” Natasha nods her head for certainty, and Anastasia quickly follows her lead. “Okay.”

“I'm sorry too, mama.” Natasha looks at her curiously. “What are you talking about?” Anastasia looks back at your figure and looks back to Natasha. “It wasn't very nice to scream in the store and throw things on the floor.” Natasha chuckles, seemingly having forgotten all about how the situation started in the first place, but she’s proud of her daughter for being aware of her wrongdoing. “You're right it wasn't a very nice thing to do.” Anastasia holds her head down in shame, she knows what she did was wrong she's just so used to getting her way that day threw her off. Natasha would never shame her for it. She's just a child after all, a spoiled child but most importantly her child. She nudges her index finger under Ana's chin gently tilting it up for eye contact.

“Hey, it's alright. Thank you for apologizing.” Natasha plants soft and quick kisses across Ana's face as she starts a fit of giggles. You watch the interaction with a soft smile finally able to release a breath with the way things turned out. But the brief eye contact shared with Natasha is not giving the same type of vibes, she knows you will want a much more detailed discussion later on. You allow Natasha to stay longer, you still take the opportunity to get away from her for a moment.

Tell Ana that you were still going to get her nuggets from the store and now that she’s not constantly worried about Natasha spanking her again, she’s barely paying attention to you and your movements. Of course, Natasha tries to keep you in the room offering to just go out to eat or order room service instead. She’s missed you both, staying in an empty home alone does damage to the mind when you are not used to it. You quickly shot down the idea of having a family dinner, at least until everything is settled between you two as far as parenting goes.

When you return with grocery bags you head straight for the kitchen, placing everything in its place. Looking around the room you can tell the two of them made up for a week's worth of time lost. Toys are spread across the floor and snack wrappers are littered on the coffee table. Natasha has just finished reading Anastasia, her favorite bedtime story. “She’s out like a light.”

“That’s good, she had a long day.” You walk back into the kitchen area not wanting to be near her and remaining hopeful that her phone will ring so she can leave. She came here to make amends with Ana, and she's done that. Natasha can sense it, the tension is back, small talk and keeping the conversation on Ana won’t smooth things other with you. Natasha sighs sitting down at the counter.

“Can we talk now? Or are you going to keep acting like I'm a stranger?” She nervously nibbles on her bottom lip seemingly ready for whatever you have to throw her way. “I’m not sure there is anything to talk about Nat.” you keep your back turned to her, not in the mood to truly unpack everything that she said to you. “You said a lot at home, and you seemed like you meant every word.” you quickly turn around to face her, she's still seated at the counter, your words strike her heavily. She made you feel like you were the problem, like you were the one that needed to take a step back and evaluate the life decisions for Anastasia to be more than what the two of you experienced.

“Anything else you want to get off your chest about the way I parent or encourage you to parent our daughter. See how I said, "Our daughter, I wouldn't want you to feel like she’s only mine.” you send her the most ferocious glare she's ever seen coming from you. you scoff opening the fridge, grabbing a beer and quickly taking a sip. You don't even like drinking beer, it was too cheap for your liking. “I was not thinking clearly, I didn’t stop to think about how that would affect her or you.”

“Clearly not, but you still had those underlying feelings and I-” Natasha abruptly stands up from her seat and makes her way around the counter slowly edging towards you. She doesn't even want to know what you were about to finish your sentence with because that scares her, losing you has always been a fear of hers and since having Ana, losing her own little family scares her even more. She entraps you between the counter and her body, both of her hands on both sides of the marble countertop. “How do I know that you won't do it again? How do I know that the next time she has a melt down and I'm not there with you, that you won't spank her again or God forbid something worse?”

“Because I'm not him, I'm not a product of what he wanted me to be, not when it comes to her and not when it comes to being a mom.” Natasha's face contorted in pain; she's trying to hold back. There is a subtle strain to her voice that only you can pick up on. She reaches into her pocket; you have forgotten about it, but it's been burning a hole into her expensive fabrics since she left home. she brings the polaroid out of her pocket and stares at it repeating the same words she just said to you. “I’m not him.”

“I'm not him.”

“I’m not-” You bring her into a strong and warm embrace, dealing with that trauma alone it couldn't have been easy. “I know, you're not.” You rub up and down her back soothingly. Natasha doesn't cry like this often so you stand there holding her for as long as she needs you too. Eventually she pulls back but not too far away from you your lips finally meet in a soft and affectionate kiss. An eagerness and hunger starts to rise the longer the kiss continues, Natasha being away from you and being so vulnerable has caused her to be touched-starved. Before things get heated you pull away no matter how bad you wanted to keep going there was still something that needed to be addressed and understood. “I won’t allow Anastasia to be around that type of environment. We've worked so hard to shield her from it and give her better, I need you to remember that the next time you feel like you're losing control over how she handles her emotions.”

“You're right.” she wipes away her tears nodding in agreement with everything that you've said this entire time. What would happen the next time this happens? The look of pure fear her daughter had just by being in the same room as her hits her like a ton of bricks. Natasha never wants her daughter to be afraid of her. She needs to shake away that form of discipline out of her mind. It's been installed into her brain since a child.

“You have to unpack your shit, Nat.” you tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear and as you pull away from her, she holds your hand against the side of her face. “I will, I promise.” She's avoided any form of therapy or comfort when dealing with her traumatic childhood and past. However, now it's gotten to the point where she can no longer avoid it, she needs to deal with this head on professionally but for now you'll hold her, for now you'll console her and applaud her for being brave enough to revisit the past trauma and admit her mistake. A change will be made for the better, she swears by it. She can deal with the world fearing her, she likes it, actually thrives off of other fear from just her presence but she draws the line at her daughter.

“I’ll start looking for a therapist tomorrow.”

#mini burden au #natasha romanoff x reader #mob!nat #mob!natsha romanoff x reader #damage control au

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