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midastouch013 · 6 days

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Her Caregiver

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That someone, she realized, was you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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midastouch013 · 11 days

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She deserves more than the world, she deserves way beyond the multiverse too. I'm glad you enjoyed reading this one 😁😁

"Find Me Attractive Again"

Based on this request

Summary: You had a wonderful girlfriend, and so what happens when you discover she has an eating disorder

Warnings: Eating disorder, Hurt Nat, Sad Nat, Neglecting Y/n. Panic Attacks. Purging, throwing up. Major hurt/comfort, from both sides.

P.S I wasn't really satisfied with the ending, so I apologise. I also took my own spin on it since it was kind vague, so I hope you like it'.

P.S.S And also, after such heavy fics, I'd really like for someone to drop me a fluffy one, Not just Nat, any Marvel woman please.

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It was a typical summer day in New York City when your paths first crossed. You, wrapped up in the chaos of your medical residency, were rushing through the streets, white coat flapping behind you like a superhero’s cape, while Natasha Romanoff, the infamous Black Widow, was navigating the crowds with the ease of someone who had seen it all.

It was at a street corner where fate decided to intervene, in the form of an iced coffee and a collision. Natasha, in her sleek elegance, accidentally bumped into you, sending her cold drink cascading down your front.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” Her voice was a mix of genuine contrition and a hint of amusement.

You blinked, the cold seeping through your shirt, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation. “Well, at least it’s a hot day,” you replied, trying to brush off the mess.

Natasha quickly handed you some napkins, her green eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're a humour one I see"

"That I am" you grinned "I've also cost you your coffee"

Natasha went to open her mouth, but you spoke instead.

“Let me make it up to you. Can I buy you another drink?”

"But I'm the one who spilt mine on you?" her eyebrow raised as she questioned.

"And?"

"I should be the one buying for you?"

You're smile didn't falter " Where's the chivalry in that?"

And that was the start of it all. What began as a clumsy encounter turned into a friendship neither of you expected. Natasha’s charm, mixed with her trademark snark, drew you in like a moth to a flame. Soon, the two of you were spending your precious free time together, swapping stories over drinks or taking long walks through the city.

Despite her guarded nature, Natasha opened up to you in ways she hadn’t with anyone else. You became her confidante, her sanctuary in a world filled with chaos and danger. And in turn, you found solace in her presence, a respite from the relentless demands of your residency.

As your friendship deepened, so did your feelings for her. You found yourself falling for the enigmatic Avenger, captivated by her strength, her wit, and the vulnerability she only showed to you. And one day, gathering every ounce of courage you had, you asked her out on a date.

To your delight, Natasha said yes, her smile lighting up the room in a way you had never seen before. And just like that, your friendship blossomed into something more, a new chapter in both of your lives.

Now, as you walked hand in hand through the bustling streets of New York, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. With Natasha by your side, you felt invincible, ready to take on whatever challenges life threw your way.

Little did you know, however, that behind the redhead’s confident facade lay a secret she was desperate to keep hidden. An invisible battle she fought every day, one that threatened to consume her from within.

And so, all it would take for you to find out, as a plate of untouched food, and certain other stuff

---

The elevator door opened with a ding, admitting you into the familiar warmth of your shared home (Floor in the compound that Tony had so happily given) with Natasha. The faint scent of breakfast lingered in the air, a reminder of the meal you had meticulously prepared before your short 12-hour shift at the hospital.

But as you stepped further into the living space, your brow furrowed in confusion. The plate of food you had set out for Natasha sat untouched on the dining table, a solitary fork resting against the edge.

"Nat?" you called out, your voice echoing in the quiet apartment. There was no response, just the eerie stillness of an empty room.

Concern gnawed at the edges of your mind as you ventured further into the living space, scanning every corner for any sign of your elusive girlfriend. But Natasha was nowhere to be found.

However, before you could think what to do next, the sound of retching echoed through the apartment, sending a shiver of dread down your spine. Without a moment's hesitation, you bolted towards the bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you flung open the door, the sight that greeted you was enough to make your stomach churn. There stood Natasha, hunched over the toilet, her face contorted in agony as she forced herself to purge.

Instinct took over as you rushed to her side, your hands reaching out to grasp hers and pull them away from her mouth. "Nat, stop," you urged, your voice laced with urgency and concern.

For a moment, she resisted, the muscles in her arm tense with the effort of her struggle. But slowly, reluctantly, she relented, allowing you to pry her fingers away from their self-destructive task.

The sight of her trembling form, tears glistening in her eyes, tore at your heartstrings like nothing else. You wanted to wrap her in your arms, to shield her from the demons that haunted her, but you knew that this was a battle she had to fight on her own terms.

Gently, you guided her away from the toilet, leading her to the sink where you wet a washcloth and pressed it against her clammy forehead. "It's okay, Nat," you murmured, your voice a soothing balm against the turmoil raging within her.

As you helped Natasha up from the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, her silence weighed heavily in the air, a palpable barrier between you. You guided her to the bed, her movements sluggish and unsteady, and gently urged her to sit down while you prepared a bath.

With practiced efficiency, you filled the tub with warm water, adding a few drops of lavender oil to help soothe her frazzled nerves. But as you turned to help Natasha undress, you noticed the way she recoiled from your touch, her body tensing at the slightest contact.

Your heart ached at the sight, a pang of sadness settling in the pit of your stomach. You had always prided yourself on being there for Natasha, on offering her the unwavering support and love she so desperately needed. But now, faced with her silent withdrawal, you felt utterly helpless, like a bystander watching helplessly as a storm raged on the horizon.

With a heavy sigh, you stepped back, giving Natasha the space she seemed to need. You watched in silence as she rose from the bed, her movements slow and deliberate, before making her way to the bathroom.

It was only then that you noticed the small click of the lock as she closed the door behind her, a barrier sealing her off from the outside world. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, a stark reminder of the walls Natasha had built around herself, walls that even you, with all your love and devotion, could not penetrate.

For a moment, you stood there in the empty room, the weight of Natasha's silence bearing down on you like a leaden cloak. But then, with a resolute shake of your head, you pushed aside your own doubts and fears, determined to stand by her side no matter what.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and made your way to the bathroom door, your hand poised to knock. But at the last moment, you hesitated, the sound of running water and Natasha's soft sobs echoing through the wood.

But when the sound of retching pierced through the closed bathroom door, a surge of panic shot through you like a bolt of lightning. Without a second thought, you abandoned your plans to change and rushed back to the bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

With a swift motion, you twisted the doorknob, but to your dismay, it refused to budge. Locked. The realization sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through your veins, igniting a primal instinct to protect Natasha at all costs.

"Nat, open the door!" you called out, your voice tinged with desperation. But there was no response, just the sickening sound of her struggle echoing through the small space.

With a burst of adrenaline-fueled determination, you threw your weight against the door, the wood groaning in protest as it gave way beneath your force. For a moment, everything seemed to blur together in a haze of motion and sound, until finally, the door swung open with a resounding crash.

And there she was, hunched over the toilet once more, her body wracked with violent spasms as she forced herself to purge. Without hesitation, you rushed to her side, your hands reaching out to grasp hers and pull them away from their self-destructive task.

"Nat, please stop," you pleaded, your voice cracking with emotion. But this time, there was no resistance, no struggle against your touch. Instead, Natasha collapsed against you, her tears mingling with the cool touch of your skin.

With a sense of resolve, you refused to leave Natasha alone in the bathroom this time. Instead, you stayed by her side, offering silent support as she struggled with the demons that haunted her.

As the water continued to run, filling the tub with warm, comforting steam, you gently guided Natasha towards it. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes cast downwards, before finally sinking into the water with a heavy sigh.

You stood by the tub, your presence a silent reassurance as Natasha submerged herself beneath the surface, her shoulders tense with the weight of her burdens. With a soft exhale, you reached for the shampoo, pouring a small amount into your palm before lathering it into her hair with gentle, soothing strokes.

"I won't look," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I promise."

Natasha remained silent, her gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the confines of the bathroom. But you could sense the tension in her body, the invisible barriers she had erected to keep you at arm's length.

Undeterred, you continued to wash her hair, your fingers working through the tangles with practiced precision. With each stroke, you hoped to chip away at the walls she had built around herself, to offer her a glimpse of the love and acceptance that lay waiting on the other side.

But despite your best efforts, Natasha remained distant, her silence a heavy weight in the air between you. It was as if she had retreated into herself, lost in the labyrinth of her own thoughts and fears.

With a heavy heart, you finished washing her hair, rinsing away the suds with gentle care. Then, reaching for the washcloth, you began to bathe her body, moving with slow, deliberate motions as you washed away the stains of the outside world.

Gently, you lifted Natasha from the bathtub, her body feeling almost weightless in your arms. The sight of her frail form, bones protruding beneath the thin veil of her skin, sent a shiver of concern down your spine. It was a stark reminder of the toll her eating disorder had taken on her body, a silent battle she fought day in and day out.

With tender care, you carried her back to the bed, laying her down with the utmost gentleness. You tucked the blankets around her, the soft fabric a comforting cocoon against the cold reality of her struggles.

As Natasha lay there, her eyes distant and unfocused, you made your way to the kitchen, your mind racing with thoughts of how to help her. You knew that she needed nourishment, both for her body and her soul, but convincing her to eat was a battle in itself.

With a determined resolve, you rummaged through the pantry, searching for something light and easy to stomach. Finally, you settled on a plate of sliced fruit, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the darkness that threatened to consume Natasha from within.

Returning to the bedroom, you found Natasha still lying there, her gaze fixed on some invisible point in the distance. Carefully, you placed the plate of fruit on the bedside table, hoping that the sight of it would stir something within her.

"Nat," you said softly, your voice a gentle reminder of your presence. "I brought you a snack. It's just some fruit. Would you like some?"

For a moment, there was no response, just the steady rise and fall of Natasha's chest as she breathed in and out. But then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, she reached out a trembling hand, fingers curling around a slice of apple.

You held your breath, watching intently as Natasha brought the fruit to her lips, her movements hesitant and uncertain. But then, with a small nod of encouragement from you, she took a tentative bite, the sweetness of the apple filling the air between you.

A sense of relief washed over you as you watched Natasha eat, each bite a small victory in the battle against her eating disorder.

As Natasha slowly nibbled on the fruit, you settled beside her on the bed, the familiar weight of her body a comforting anchor in the storm of uncertainty. With a soft click of the remote, you turned on the television, the familiar theme song of F.R.I.E.N.D.S filling the room with its nostalgic melody.

You glanced over at Natasha, her gaze fixed on the screen, her lips curved ever so slightly in the beginnings of a smile. It was a small victory, a glimmer of light in the darkness that threatened to consume her.

With a tender smile of your own, you wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against your side. The warmth of her body pressed against yours, the steady rhythm of her breath a soothing lullaby in the quiet of the night.

Together, you watched as the familiar antics of Ross, Rachel, Monica, Chandler, Joey, and Phoebe unfolded on the screen before you. The laughter of the characters, the camaraderie of their friendships, served as a reminder of the bonds that held you and Natasha together, even in the darkest of times.

And as the episode came to an end, you turned to Natasha, the ghost of a smile still lingering on her lips. "Feeling a little better?" you asked softly, your voice a gentle caress against the silence of the room.

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. But then, with a small nod of her head, she leaned into your embrace, her body relaxing against yours.

It was a small victory, a flicker of hope in the midst of despair. But for now, in this moment of quiet intimacy, it was enough. Together, you would face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm that came your way. As you snuggled into Natasha, the fragile contours of her body pressed against yours, you couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you. With each delicate curve of her form, you could feel the sharp edges of her bones, a painful reminder of the toll her eating disorder had taken on her.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you held her close, the weight of her fragility pressing down on you like a leaden weight. "Why, Nat?" you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "Why do you do this to yourself?"

For a moment, there was only silence, the weight of Natasha's unspoken pain hanging heavy in the air between you. But then, as your grip tightened around her, almost as if you were clinging to her for dear life, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I..." she began, her words faltering as if caught in the tangled web of her thoughts. But then, with a small shake of her head, she fell silent once more, the words hanging between you like an unspoken promise.

As you thought Natasha had drifted off to sleep, you reached for your phone, the glow of the screen illuminating the dimly lit room. With a deep breath, you dialed the number for the hospital, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to make a decision that would change everything.

"Hello, this is Dr. Y/l/n," you began, your voice steady despite the nerves that churned in the pit of your stomach. "I need to take the next month off."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, followed by the sound of a hesitant voice. "Dr. Y/l/n, are you sure? We're short-staffed as it is, and your patients—"

"I'm sure," you interrupted, your tone firm and unwavering. "I've already made up my mind."

The person on the other end of the line hesitated, clearly taken aback by your sudden decision. "But Dr. Y/l/n you're one of our top surgeons. We can't afford to lose you—"

"I understand that," you replied, your voice tinged with frustration. "But right now, I need to take care of someone who needs me more than anyone else."

There was a moment of silence as the gravity of your words hung heavy in the air between you. And then, with a resigned sigh, the person on the other end of the line relented, agreeing to grant you the time off on the condition that you'd go unpaid for the month.

As you ended the call, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. You knew that taking time off from the hospital was a risk, but in that moment, the only thing that mattered was being there for Natasha when she needed you most.

But as you turned to check on her, you realized that she had been awake the whole time, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Natasha's voice cut through the silence of the room, her words heavy with emotion. "Why did you do that?" she asked, her eyes searching yours for answers.

You met her gaze, the weight of her question hanging heavy in the air between you. Taking a deep breath, you reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, your fingers lingering against her cheek.

"Because you needed me," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Because I love you, Natasha, and I would do anything for you."

Tears welled in Natasha's eyes as she listened to your words, her expression a mix of gratitude and disbelief. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. "For everything."

As Natasha's words hung in the air, a heavy silence settled between you, punctuated only by the soft hum of the room's ventilation system. You could see the turmoil swirling behind her eyes, the weight of her burdens threatening to crush her beneath their weight.

"Why did you do that, Natasha?" you asked gently, your voice laced with concern. "Why do you hurt yourself like this?"

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her gaze drifting away from yours as she searched for the words to explain the unexplainable. "It's… it's complicated," she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Try me," you urged, your tone soft and understanding. "I want to understand, Natasha. I want to help you."

With a heavy sigh, Natasha began to speak, her words halting and uncertain at first, but gaining strength with each passing moment. "It's not just me," she confessed, her voice trembling with emotion. "It's… it's the comments, the stares, the whispers behind my back."

Your heart ached as you listened to her words, the pain and anguish etched into every syllable. You knew all too well the harsh realities of the world Natasha inhabited, the constant scrutiny and judgment that followed her wherever she went.

"It's like… like I'm never good enough," Natasha continued, her voice cracking with emotion. "No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I achieve, it's never enough. And the news, they… they only make it worse."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you watched Natasha unravel before you, the weight of her suffering a burden too heavy for her to bear alone. In that moment, you felt a surge of anger rise up within you, a burning indignation at the injustices Natasha had endured.

"And..." She trailed off

"And?" You pulled her into your arms, holding her close as if to show that you were there for her. You could feel the ache in her voice, the raw vulnerability laid bare before you.

"I just... You," Natasha began, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "You used to look at me with such... such longing. You'd initiate everything, your touch, your kisses... But lately, it's like you don't even see me anymore."

Your heart clenched at her words, unsure of what to do or say.

"I thought... I thought maybe it was because of how I looked," Natasha continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought if I worked out more, if I stopped eating, if I... if I purged, maybe you'd find me attractive again."

Your breath caught in your throat at her confession, the pain of her self-inflicted suffering tearing at your heartstrings. How could she think such a thing? How could she believe that her worth was tied to her appearance?

But you remained silent, allowing Natasha to speak, to purge the demons that haunted her soul. For in that moment, you realized that the only way to help her heal was to listen, to truly listen, without judgment or condemnation.

"I just wanted to be enough for you," Natasha whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. "But I was so wrong, wasn't I? I was so wrong."

And as she buried her face in her hands, her words seemed to sink in, making you feel like the ground beneath you is crumbling away, leaving you adrift in a sea of guilt and self-loathing.

Your hands trembled as you pushed yourself away from Natasha, the weight of her words crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You stumbled backward, your eyes wide with shock as you realized the role you had played in her pain.

"Oh my god," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of your own ragged breaths. " I did that"

Natasha's eyes widened in concern as she watched you retreat, her voice tinged with fear. "Y/n? Are you okay?"

But you couldn't answer, couldn't bring yourself to face her, not when the guilt threatened to suffocate you. You hated yourself in that moment, hated the way you had let work consume you, the way you had neglected the person you loved most in the world.

And then it hit you, a wave of overwhelming emotion crashing over you like a tsunami. You sank to the floor, your body racked with sobs as the weight of your own self-loathing bore down on you like a heavy burden.

Natasha's voice was a distant echo in the darkness, her words lost amidst the chaos of your own thoughts. But you could feel her presence beside you, her hand reaching out to touch your shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort and support.

But you couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the thought of her touching you, not when you were the reason she was in pain. So you pushed her away, stumbling to your feet and retreating further into the shadows.

"I'm sorry," you choked out, your voice barely audible above the storm of your own despair. "I'm so sorry, Natasha. I didn't mean to… I didn't know…"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the words tumbled from your lips in a frantic mantra, each repetition a desperate plea for forgiveness. But the only one you blamed was yourself, your own self-loathing swallowing you whole.

Natasha's voice was a distant echo in the chaos of your mind, her words lost in the tumult of your own despair. But you could feel her presence beside you, a steady anchor in the storm.

But even as she reached out to comfort you, you recoiled from her touch, the weight of your guilt too heavy to bear. You felt betrayed by yourself, , the person who had allowed this to happen.

"I'm sorry," you choked out once more, your voice hoarse with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Natasha. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean to…"

But the words fell flat, empty and hollow in the face of your own self-condemnation. And as you sank further into the darkness, the weight of your own despair threatening to consume you, you knew that there was no escape from the demons that haunted you.

"Y/n, listen to me," Natasha's voice was firm, cutting through the haze of panic that clouded your mind. "You need to breathe. Deep breaths, okay?"

You nodded, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of your racing heart.

"That's it," she encouraged, her voice a soothing balm against the storm raging within you. "Inhale... and exhale. You're okay, I've got you."

You focused on her words, on the steady rhythm of her breathing, allowing them to anchor you in the present moment.

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/n," Natasha continued, her grip on your hand reassuringly firm. "I'm right here with you, and I'm not letting you go."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you clung to her, the weight of your own self-loathing threatening to crush you beneath its suffocating embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Natasha," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I didn't-"

Natasha silenced you with a gentle finger against your lips, her eyes soft with understanding. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured.

With trembling hands, you grasped Natasha's palms in yours, feeling the warmth of her touch seeping into your skin like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Without a word, you pulled her into a tight embrace, needing to feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your chest.

"I love you, Tasha," you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. "I love you more than anything in this world."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you pressed kisses against her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, each touch a silent testament to the depth of your love for her.

"I'm sorry for everything," you murmured between kisses, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for making you feel unloved, for neglecting you when you needed me most. I promise, I'll do better. I'll be better for you, for us."

Natasha's arms tightened around you, her own tears mingling with yours as she buried her face against your chest. "I love you too, Y/n," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "And I forgive you. We'll get through this together, I promise."

---

Over the next few days, you devoted yourself wholeheartedly to supporting Natasha, determined to make amends for your past neglect. You woke up early to prepare nutritious meals for her, ensuring that she had the sustenance she needed to fuel her body and soul.

You gently guided her through each day, offering words of encouragement and reassurance whenever she needed them. You deleted all the news apps from her phone, shielding her from the harsh judgments and scrutiny of the outside world.

And when you learned of the agents who had dared to badmouth Natasha, you wasted no time in tracking them down and giving them a piece of your mind. With a fiery determination burning in your eyes, you confronted them head-on, refusing to let them tarnish Natasha's reputation any further.

"You have no idea what she's been through," you spat, your voice laced with righteous anger. "She's one of the strongest, most resilient people I know, and she deserves nothing but respect."

The agents cowered before you, their faces pale with guilt and shame. And as you walked away, leaving them to ponder the consequences of their actions, you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you.

Every time you sensed Natasha spiraling, you were there, a steady anchor in her stormy sea. You showered her with kisses, peppering her face with affectionate gestures, a silent reminder of the love that enveloped her. Your touch was a constant presence, your fingers entwined with hers or softly tracing patterns on her skin, a tangible reassurance that you were there for her, always.

You made sure she had everything she needed, anticipating her wants before she even voiced them. Whether it was a warm meal or a comforting hug, you were always one step ahead, ready to offer her solace in her moments of need.

But even as you tended to her, Natasha noticed the turmoil brewing beneath your surface. Despite your smiles and jokes, she saw the shadows lurking in your eyes, the weight of your own struggles weighing heavily on your shoulders. And though you tried to hide it, she knew that your sleepless nights were spent wrestling with demons of your own.

---

As the time came for you to return to work after a month of devoted care for Natasha, a sense of dread settled in the pit of your stomach. The thought of leaving her alone, vulnerable to the demons that had haunted her in the past, filled you with a gnawing anxiety.

You found yourself making up excuses, delaying your departure in a futile attempt to hold onto the precious moments you had shared together. But Natasha saw through your facade, her eyes searching yours for the truth that you were desperate to hide.

"Y/n, what's going on?" she asked, her voice gentle but firm. "You've been acting strange lately, avoiding going back to work, making excuses to stay. Is something wrong?"

Your heart constricted at the concern in her voice, the weight of your own fears threatening to suffocate you. But you couldn't bring yourself to voice the truth, to admit to the depths of your own insecurities.

"I… I just don't want to leave you," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm afraid that if I go back to work, things will go back to how they were before. I'm afraid of losing you Tasha."

Tears welled in your eyes as you spoke, the vulnerability of your confession laying bare the depths of your fear. But Natasha's response was immediate, her arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace, her warmth a comforting balm against the storm raging within you.

"Y/n, listen to me," she said, her voice steady and unwavering. "I'm not going anywhere. We've been through hell and back together, and I'm not about to let anything tear us apart."

With a heavy heart and a sense of resolve, you made the difficult decision to resign from your position, knowing that your place was by Natasha's side. As you prepared to leave, a fierce determination burned within you to make the most of the time you had left together.

With a hunger born of love and longing, you pulled Natasha into your arms, your lips seeking hers in a passionate kiss.

An so as you hold Natasha close, your heart overflowing with love and devotion, you feel the need to express the depths of your feelings to her.

"Nat," you begin, your voice soft and tender, "I need you to understand something. I love you more than words can express, more than I ever thought possible."

You press a gentle kiss to her forehead, savoring the warmth of her skin against your lips before continuing.

"I love you for who you are, not for your past or your appearance. Every part of you, every scar, every imperfection, it's all part of what makes you so incredibly beautiful to me."

Your fingers trace the contours of her face, your touch reverent and adoring.

"And I want you to know that my love for you will never waver. No matter what challenges we face, no matter what obstacles come our way, I will always be by your side, loving you with every beat of my heart."

Tears shimmer in Natasha's eyes as she listens to your words, her own heart swelling with emotion.

"I love you too, Y/n," she whispers, her voice choked with tears. "More than you'll ever know."

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midastouch013 · 12 days

Text

I'm assuming you liked it ? 🤨😁😁

"Find Me Attractive Again"

Based on this request

Summary: You had a wonderful girlfriend, and so what happens when you discover she has an eating disorder

Warnings: Eating disorder, Hurt Nat, Sad Nat, Neglecting Y/n. Panic Attacks. Purging, throwing up. Major hurt/comfort, from both sides.

P.S I wasn't really satisfied with the ending, so I apologise. I also took my own spin on it since it was kind vague, so I hope you like it'.

P.S.S And also, after such heavy fics, I'd really like for someone to drop me a fluffy one, Not just Nat, any Marvel woman please.

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“Shit, I’m so sorry!” Her voice was a mix of genuine contrition and a hint of amusement.

You blinked, the cold seeping through your shirt, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation. “Well, at least it’s a hot day,” you replied, trying to brush off the mess.

Natasha quickly handed you some napkins, her green eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're a humour one I see"

"That I am" you grinned "I've also cost you your coffee"

Natasha went to open her mouth, but you spoke instead.

“Let me make it up to you. Can I buy you another drink?”

"But I'm the one who spilt mine on you?" her eyebrow raised as she questioned.

"And?"

"I should be the one buying for you?"

You're smile didn't falter " Where's the chivalry in that?"

Little did you know, however, that behind Natasha’s confident facade lay a secret she was desperate to keep hidden. An invisible battle she fought every day, one that threatened to consume her from within.