out of love
pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader
synopsis natasha loses you three times in the worst way possible.
word count 6.5k
warnings angst, bad/angsty ending, mentions of alcohol consumption, breaking up, cursing, mentions of cheating, pet names, car accident, panic attacks, jealousy, medical rooms, amnesia, mentions of therapy
author’s note yes, this was a series. i’ve decided to make it into a oneshot instead because of how much this fic has actually emotionally affected me :') this fic means a lot to me, but it’s also a constant reminder of someone really dear to me that i lost recently. i’ve lost count of how many times i cried while writing the ending, and i’m so sorry if the ending seems rushed </3
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Natasha was always full of confidence, loyalty and fierceness. She never backed down from a fight, especially excelling in close hand-to-hand combat where her ability was nothing short of intimidating. Ruthless and exceptionally efficient and skilled at her job, she struck fear into anyone who had the misfortune to cross the Black Widow’s path.
But that was at work. And at home? There was a big difference. While her enemies were always on their knees at the end of a fight, begging her for mercy to spare their lives, she was the one on her knees this time. Natasha Romanoff — one of the founding members of the Avengers, an agent of S.H.I.E.LD., and a professional assassin, your wife — was on her knees, begging for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry, moya lyubov’ (my love). Forgive me, please.” She begged, tears gathering in her eyes.
Your shadow loomed over the kneeling redhead. Holding your breath and trying to keep your tears at bay, you pursed your lips together, not trusting yourself to speak in a steady voice.
“Please, I’ll do anything.” With trembling hands on her lap, Natasha glanced up at your face. She couldn’t control a sob breaking out from her throat as she saw the saddened expression on your face.
“Am I… not important to you anymore?” You spoke in a quiet voice.
“I...-” With eyes filled with tears, she struggled to find the right words to explain herself. Despite her usual strength and confidence, Natasha looked vulnerable, almost broken, before you.
“Where were you tonight? Drinking with Banner and Thor again?” You asked with a shaky breath.
The answer was already clear before Natasha even spoke. There was a faint smell of alcohol lingering in the air, a reminder of her downward spiral in recent months. It pained you to witness the transformation, to see the woman you loved slipping further and further away with each passing day. Over the past two months, Natasha had been arriving home late consistently, often in an intoxicated state. Her presence during mornings and evenings became a rarity, and you would find yourself sleeping alone in the shared bed at night, longing for the warmth of her presence. Despite consuming a large amount of alcohol the night prior, Natasha would, without fail, rise early for work the next day.
You missed snuggling up beside her after a long day, your head in the crook of her neck as you smelled the vanilla shampoo in her hair. You missed the closeness, of feeling her heartbeat against your chest and the softness of her breath against your skin. These days, the smell of alcohol replaced the comforting and familiar scent you were used to.
While Natasha’s current vulnerability was a display of her remorse and pain you’d never seen before, you wanted another kind of vulnerability — one where she was there for you, where she prioritised you first. You longed for her comfort, her reassurance as she held you close and whispered words of love in your ear.
With an exhausted sigh, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of even more disappointment at the sight of the two untouched plates of home-cooked beef stroganoff on the dining table. The tantalising aroma of the beef stroganoff now made you nauseous. It bitterly reminded you and mocked you of your meticulous efforts to please your wife. The once-warm meal lay cold since you plated them up three hours ago while you anticipated Natasha to return home. Accompanying the two plates were two wine glasses, a softly lit candle, and an unopened bottle of red wine. And in the refrigerator, there was a baking tray of lemon meringue pie from Natasha’s favourite bakery.
Today held a significant meaning — It marked the second wedding anniversary with the love of your life, Natalia Alianovna Romanova. Throughout the day, you tirelessly spent hours pouring your heart and soul into preparing each slice of tenderloin and delicately sprinkling the chives on the completed dish. Cooking wasn’t your forte, you had to learn how to cook it from websites. You still tried your best to make it the tastiest beef stroganoff Natasha had ever tasted in her life.
And to add salt to the injury, she never even bothered to return home early, preferring to drown herself in alcohol at the bar.
If you cooked her favourite dish and queued from early sunrise to buy her favourite dessert, Natasha would come home instead of getting wasted at the bar, right? You were sorely mistaken. You had even persistently messaged her all day, excitedly telling her about the candlelit dinner you had carefully planned for the evening. However, all of your texts went unanswered.
You almost found amusement and humour in your naïvety. Three months ago, ever since Natasha and her sister, Yelena, successfully brought down the Red Room, she changed for the worse. You expected her to shift into a more carefree demeanour after the mission, but it was the opposite. Despite your best to understand and put yourself in her shoes, Natasha remained guarded, only telling you bits and pieces of information about what happened during her mission.
“Y/N/N?” Natasha barely whispered. The vulnerability in her expression was a contrast to the loving and confident person you fell in love with.
“I need some time apart to figure things out, Natasha.” It had been a long time since you uttered her full name, always preferring to call her ‘Natty’ or, your personal favourite, ‘sunshine’.
A pang of sorrow tugged at your heart, for Natasha had truly been your sunshine once upon a time. In the beginning, she had truly been like a ray of sunlight, her sweet smile had the power to brighten even the gloomiest of days, her laughter your favourite melody. And now, as you stood before her, the Natasha you once knew and loved had become a distant memory. In her place stood a shadow of her former self, someone who was almost unrecognisable to you. She was no longer your sunshine, but a raincloud that drenched you in loneliness and despair.
Your fingers instinctively played with the wedding ring adorning your left hand, tracing its edges and rolling it around your finger to alleviate your anxiety as you awaited her next words. You expected her to refuse and deny your words, to tell you that she needed you in her life, but all you got from her was a single word — “okay.”
Her answer made you scoff loudly.
“That’s it? All I get is an ‘okay’?” You seethed, your hands clenched into tight fists as you let anger consume your words. “Did you ever take this relationship seriously, Natasha? Was I nothing more to you than a warm body when you had nightmares and decent fuck when you were horny?”
“I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way.” Natasha’s voice wavered as she struggled to find the right words.
“I can’t take this anymore.” You declared, the words spilling from your mouth before you could even stop yourself. “Fuck you, Natasha, I’m leaving. Forget taking a break — I never want to see you ever again.”
The hurt and shock in her eyes were unmistakable, but you did not regret your harsh words. The silence that followed afterwards was deafening. Natasha looked down, avoiding eye contact with you.
You slid your wedding ring off your finger, using more force than usual as you placed it on the coffee table. The sound of it hitting the table echoed loudly throughout the room. Instead of feeling a weight off your shoulders, a gnawing sense of anxiety and disappointment bubbled in your stomach.
Is this the end of your marriage?
You love, no, loved Natasha, and the weight of the one-sided relationship had become too much for you to bear alone. You wondered if she ever truly cared about you in the first place, or if you were only a distraction from her busy life as an Avenger. You had a nagging feeling that, maybe, she was unsatisfied with being in love with an Avenger-turned-housewife instead of someone like Bruce Banner. You shook your head as the image of Bruce surfaced in your mind. Aware of his past crush on your wife, you could not help but wonder if Natasha, too, had developed feelings for him and hesitated to break your heart with the truth.
Maybe that’s why she’s been spending time with Bruce at the bar.
Was her love ever real?
And with that, you turned away. You stood before the door, your hand hesitating over the doorknob. You expected Natasha to intervene and stop you from leaving once more. With a hesitant glance back at her, you observed her entire frame convulsing with sobs, making it even harder to walk away.
You stepped out the door as you couldn’t bear to witness the pain in your favourite green eyes any longer. You knew leaving was the right thing to do, even if it tore you apart inside. As you settled into the driver’s seat and pulled away from the familiar driveway, the haunting image of Natasha’s tear-streaked face lingered in your mind
You had to get far, far away from Natasha. The only other person you trust is Wanda, your ex-girlfriend and another Avenger. She would be able to comfort you with her soothing presence and words. Tears welled in your eyes and streamed down your cheeks as you navigated the familiar streets to Wanda’s house. The turn of events weighed heavily on your mind, and millions of questions ran through your head.
Lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice the traffic light blaring red ahead. A car from the opposite direction ran right towards you, its glaring light blinding your vision with its intensity. With a sharp intake of breath, the screeching sound of tyres filled the air as you braced yourself for impact.
It could have been hours that Natasha knelt on the wooden floor after you left the house, or it could have been minutes. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. All she knew was that her heart ached. It was as if someone had reached into her chest, grabbed her heart, and thrown it across the room without any consideration.
She felt overwhelmed. The air felt thick and made it hard for her to breathe as waves of panic coursed through her. She lay in a fetal position, her knees to her chest and her forehead on the floor. Her trembling hands clutched at her chest, desperately trying to calm the racing beats of her heart. Her body could not stop convulsing as tears streamed down her face, blurring the surroundings around her.
Every shallow breath she expelled felt painful, and she felt like she was anchored to the cold ground beneath her. It was as if the room was spinning, and the walls were closing in, trapping her in endless suffering. The ache in her chest mirrored the shattering of her heart.
The events that happened after she had come home drunk had sobered her up quickly, and all she felt now was a hollow emptiness. Natasha felt like a complete asshole. She had taken advantage of your kindness and patience and trampled all over it. She took you for granted, and now she was all alone in the place she called home.
Home. It was merely a house, but the treasured memories the two of you shared with love and affection made it a home.
Once the waves of a panic attack passed, she craned her neck up to glance around her surroundings. The singular candle you prepared for the candlelit dinner was still burning on the dining table, illuminating the dimly lit living room. Even with the blinds drawn over the windows, she could see outside enough to gauge that sunrise was coming soon.
Unexpectedly, the voice of F.R.I.D.A.Y. shattered the silence as it echoed through the house. “Agent Natasha Romanoff. Please come to the Avengers Compound as quickly as possible.”
Natasha groaned softly in response, slowly getting on her feet cautiously. Her knees and arms ached as she got her balance, a painful reminder of how she spent the night in an uncomfortable position.
Even when she chose to live separately from the Avengers, Tony Stark insisted he installed F.R.I.D.A.Y. into the home for ‘extra’ security. A sense of unease gnawed at her. She rarely got an announcement from the A.I. unless necessary, such as an emergency or a last-minute mission.
“Did something happen?” She called out to the A.I., her voice cracking and hoarse from the crying.
“Y/N Romanoff is in the hospital wing. She has suffered critical injuries from a car accident.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied promptly.
Panic surged through her body as she quickly shed last night’s attire. With each distressed movement, thoughts of how badly hurt you were raced through her mind.
Shit. What has she done?
Natasha barged through the swinging doors of the infirmary in the Avengers Compound, her eyes surveying the all-too-familiar place. There were countless times when she had to prioritise tending to her wounds in the infirmary after missions instead of debriefing, as she was always someone to choose fight instead of flight when faced with enemies.
The place buzzed with the hum of fluorescent lights, and the antiseptic smell in the air nauseated her. She approached the first medical professional in her sightline, a male nurse.
“Bring me to Y/N Romanoff’s room, now.” She ordered, grabbing the nurse's uniform collar in a tight fist.
The nurse’s hands struggled under her grasp, choking out. “Y-Yes, Agent Romanoff. This way.”
Letting go of his collar, the male nurse quickly led her down the hallways to your room in fear of angering the assassin further. Her heart raced as she followed behind him, not prepared for how wounded you would look after the car accident.
As Natasha entered the room, her fears were confirmed as she saw you. You were lying on the hospital bed, pale and fragile, while hooked up to multiple wires and machines that monitored your every heartbeat and breathing. Your whole body was covered with bandages and bruises, and the sight of your unconscious body supplemented the guilt in her gut.
“Agent Romanoff, we’ve done X-rays, CT scans and an MRI of her body. She has multiple transverse fractures on her clavicle and pelvic bone. She’s suffered a traumatic brain injury from the car accident, and she’s been comatose ever since.”
Before she could question him further, the nurse quickly left the room. She huffed in annoyance. Shrugging off the encounter with the medical professional, she approached your bedside with hesitant steps, sitting on the chair beside the bed. Taking your cold hand in hers, her index and middle fingers quickly found the pulse point on your wrist. Your pulse was weak.
Tears welled up in Natasha’s eyes, threatening to spill as she whispered through choked sobs, her voice trembling with emotion “It’s all my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. Please, wake up. I need you.”
Natasha needed you. Without you, she felt lost, like she was swimming adrift in an endless sea. Her thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind. She felt like her world had become even greyer. She traced the contours of your face with her eyes as if trying to memorise every detail that made you uniquely you. All she could do was hope and pray that you would wake up soon to forgive her and give her one last chance to fix everything.
Days turned into weeks into months. Two months since you got into a coma. Two months since she heard her favourite voice. Two months of replaying the same scene the day she lost you.
The disappointment in your voice. Your disappointed face. The smell of beef stroganoff. The sound of you placing the wedding ring on the coffee table. The door clicking behind you as you left the house.
Two months felt like two years to Natasha. With each passing moment, the vital signs monitor played the steady rhythm of your heartbeat in the medical room. She refused to leave your side for even a moment. Nick Fury immediately gave her time off from missions to allow her to prioritise your well-being.
Everyone in the Avengers recognised the toll it was taking on Natasha’s well-being. Wanda took it upon herself to bring her meals and encourage her to shower and step outside to get a breath of fresh air. Wanda would remind her that you wouldn’t want her to neglect her own needs. Despite being curious about what had happened that night, the brunette never pressed her for answers. The wounds were still fresh, and Natasha always looked miserable every time Wanda came into the medical room. Both of them took turns taking care of you. Natasha knew about your past romantic relationship with Wanda, but she trusted her the most amongst all the other Avengers to take care of you.
Natasha felt a deep loneliness she couldn’t shake off that only your awakening could dispel. She clung to the glimmer of hope that each passing moment brought you closer to waking up. With every conversation with Helen telling her that your body was recovering well, her heart swelled with optimism, and she found a twinge of happiness in the gentle rhythm of the rise and fall of your chest.
When alone with you, Natasha would talk mindlessly to you, sharing stories of her day and reminding you that she loved you. Even when you were unconscious, she never failed to greet you every day with an ‘I love you’. She read your favourite books, played your favourite songs, and whispered words of love, hoping you could somehow hear her.
Night after night, Natasha would drift off to sleep with her head resting on the edge of your bed. The position was far from comfortable, but the discomfort mattered little to her. All that mattered was being near you and being the first person you see when you wake up, even if it meant sacrificing her comfort.
And then, one day, as the first rays of dawn bathed the room in a warm glow, you woke up. Natasha was asleep when you aroused from your coma, and she stirred awake by the twitch from your hand intertwined with hers.
Your eyes fluttered open slowly, a soft whine leaving your throat as you met her tear-filled gaze. A wave of relief washed over Natasha, but your eyes widened in panic and alarm as you saw the redhead in front of you.
“W-Who the fuck are you?”
Natasha swore she would be able to hear a pin drop from how silent the room became. The green eyes, previously full of hope, reflected a mixture of disappointment and pain. Speechless, Natasha met your stunned gaze as she took her time to process your words.
“W-Where am I?” You mumbled in a hoarse voice.
Your eyes tried to adjust to the blinding light of the overhead lights as your consciousness slowly reawakened. A frown formed on your face as your eyes scanned every corner of the medical room. One of the surrounding machines beeped steadily, indicating that your vital signs were stable. You scratched your head and tried to remember how you ended up in the hospital, but you can’t.
Natasha picked up the glass of water from the nightstand and offered it to you with trembling hands. You drank the water thirstily, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat as you tried to make sense of your surroundings.
“It’s me, Natasha, your wife. Don’t you remember?” She began, moving her chair closer to your bed. “You’re at the Avengers Compound. You’ve been in a coma for a while.”
“I... Have a wife?” Aside from the fact that you were in an infirmary, the fact that you were married to someone surprised you more. You studied the features of the redhead sitting in front of you — the sense of familiarity tugged at the edges of your consciousness. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, we got married two years ago.” Natasha explained, her tone as soothing as possible.
“But... I have a girlfriend, Wanda.” You said, tilting your head to the side. “Where is she?”
Natasha’s hands shot up to cover her mouth as her eyes watered. She rose from the chair and stepped away from her bed. The room felt like it was closing in on her. Her hands became clammy, and each breath was laboured as her heart raced. A relentless drumbeat echoed in Natasha's ears.
Was this a nightmare?
The impulse to reach out and grab your hand, a source of comfort that calmed her down, surged within her. Yet, she hesitated.
You appeared as the body of the person Natasha had fallen in love with years ago when you were just eighteen and freshly recruited into the Avengers team. The both of you had a rocky start — she was your enemy first before she became your friend and eventually your lover. However, that chapter was a long time ago as you had retired from the front lines upon marrying her.
As Natasha observed you, a sense of unease settled within her. There wasn’t the same warmth she once found in your eyes. Instead, an unfamiliar emptiness stared back at her. The very gaze that used to ignite with love and affection now held an empty void — The same expression as the day when you broke up with her. Natasha clung to the hope that your memory would somehow seamlessly reweave themselves back into your consciousness, dispelling the thoughts that she was staring at a stranger disguised as her wife.
You wrinkled your nose as you awaited her response. You tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but your muscles weakened from inactivity and failed you. You winced as you felt a sharp pain in your chest.
“Don’t strain yourself.” Natasha’s voice was laced with concern. She gently guided you to remain lying down. “I should get Dr Helen. Stay here, don’t move.”
Before you could formulate a response, she hurried out of the room. As Natasha disappeared from your view, her heart sank as she realised the extent of your memory loss. She should have expected this — Dr Helen did briefly inform her about how you might experience a few symptoms of memory loss due to the brain injury.
But damn, did your words hit hard.
As Natasha hurried down the corridor, a nagging sense of guilt held her down. Was your memory loss a form of karma for her past actions? Or perhaps a second chance to rebuild things with you? Even though you had effectively cut ties with her moments before the accident, she wanted to be there for you every step of the way. Was she going to tell you what had happened mere minutes before your car accident? No, not yet. Her focus had to be on providing support during your rehabilitation.
She couldn’t bear to lose you again.
The intensity of her emotions became even more palpable as Natasha approached the nurses’ station. Two familiar figures gradually became apparent in the distance, Dr. Helen and Wanda. Both of them were engaged in an animated conversation, but they stopped when they saw the dread on Natasha’s face.
“Y/N’s awake.” Natasha relayed.
Entering the hospital room as a trio, your eyes ignited with a mix of relief and recognition as you saw Wanda.
“Hey there, sweetheart. I missed you.” You warmly greeted Wanda with a wide grin.
As those words slipped from your lips, Natasha’s heart tightened in response. It was a term you had reserved only for her before the accident. On the other hand, Wanda could only manage a warm smile, waving at you. Wanda was unsure of how to respond to the term you used to call her when the both of you were dating.
“Y/N, it’s great to see you awake.” Dr Helen chimed in, trying to ease the atmosphere. With a clipboard in hand, she flipped through your medical records. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m… confused. What happened to me?” You asked.
Natasha quickly jumped in. “You were in a car accident two months ago.”
Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Car accident? But I don’t remember anything.”
Wanda, sensing the discomfort in the room, stepped forward. “It’s okay, Y/N. The important thing is that you’re awake now. Natasha and I are here for you.”
In response, you graced Wanda with an endearing smile. Your hand extended, seeking and finding Wanda’s. You seemed to be reassured by her presence and physical touch. Natasha, observing the scene, couldn’t help but feel a subtle pang of jealousy. She pushed it aside, reminding herself that you were only acting this way because of the memory loss.
“We’re all here to help you remember.” Natasha spoke softly.
As your eyes flickered between the two women, there was a spark of love in your eyes as you glanced at Wanda. However, when your gaze turned toward Natasha, the same void of distance was in your eyes.
“Do you remember anything else before the car accident?” Dr Helen inquired, her pen poised over the pages as she wrote down your responses.
“No…?” You responded tentatively, a furrow forming on your forehead.
“Alright. Firstly, what’s your current profession?” Dr Helen probed.
“I’m a retired Avenger.” You uttered, unconsciously tightening your grip on Wanda’s hand.
“Your age?”
“Twenty-six.”
“Do you remember these two?” Dr Helen redirected your attention, pointing to Natasha and Wanda.
“Wanda’s my girlfriend. I don’t remember who the other person is.” You confessed, looking at Natasha with a raised eyebrow.
How could you get all the questions wrong? Natasha crossed her arms, feeling uncomfortable under your gaze.
“Very well. Your cooperation is appreciated, Y/N.” Dr Helen acknowledged you with a nod, turning her attention to the two other women. “Agent Romanoff and Agent Maximoff, may I talk to the both of you in my office for a few minutes?”
Natasha and Wanda exchanged an apprehensive glance before nodding in unison, accompanying the doctor out of the room. In Dr Helen’s office, both women settled into chairs opposite her desk, their postures stiff. Dr Helen wasted no time, closing the door to her office with a decisive click before taking her seat behind the desk.
“I’ll need to ask Y/N more questions later to confirm the type of amnesia she’s experiencing. Based on the questions earlier, there’s a high chance she’s experiencing systematized amnesia.” Leaning forward, Dr Helen rested her elbows on the table, hands clasped together. “It’s a type of amnesia that happens when an individual experiences long-term stress or trauma. It can be from experiencing physical, sexual or emotional neglect and abuse. In response, the brain blocks out all memories about that one specific person from their past.”
Dr Helen’s statement made Natasha’s mind spin. Wanda gripped the armrests tightly, her eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and concern. “Is that why she remembers me, and not Natasha?”
“Exactly.” She paused, turning her attention to Natasha. “Agent Romanoff, have you ever hit your wife?”
“What? No, of course not.” Natasha replied with an exasperated shake of her head. “But… We did have an argument before her car accident. I haven’t been spending time with her. I was too busy drinking at the bar to spend time with her on the day of our second anniversary. She broke up with me before she got into the car accident.”
Wanda’s anger flared, her fists clenched by her sides as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. “So the reason she got into a car accident is because of you?” She accused. “What the fuck, Natasha.”
Natasha drew in a deep breath. “I never wanted this to happen. I didn’t know that she’d get into a car accident. I messed up.”
Dr Helen stepped in. “Emotions run high in situations like these, but our focus should be on helping Y/N recover and helping her navigate through her memory loss. We can’t change the past, but we can make choices to change the future.”
Wanda, her jaw clenched in frustration, couldn’t contain the bitterness in her retort. “Fine, but regret doesn’t undo the damage you’ve done, Natasha. Y/N trusted and loved you, and you let her down. She doesn’t deserve this, and she certainly doesn’t deserve you.”
Natasha’s lips trembled slightly, struggling to hold back tears.
Wanda, unable to contain her frustration, abruptly pushed her chair back. “I can’t deal with this right now.”
She stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her. Dr Helen winced at the resounding sound before sighing. “Let’s regroup later. Wanda needs some time, and we’ll address these issues when everyone’s ready.”
Wanda burst into the medical room, her brows furrowed in deep frustration and a scowl etched across her face. Startled by her sudden entrance, you jumped slightly in your bed, your eyes widening in surprise as you saw her expression.
“Wands?” You whispered. “What’s wrong?”
As you whispered her name, Wanda’s tense expression softened. She approached your bed with slow steps, her hands reaching out to hold yours.
“It’s... It’s nothing, Y/N.” Wanda replied, her voice tight with emotion.
Despite Wanda’s attempt to dismiss her agitation, you could sense the remaining anger beneath her facade. You furrowed your brow, concern etching your features.
“It doesn’t seem like nothing.” You insisted gently, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “You stormed in here looking like you were ready to take on an army.”
Wanda’s lips twitched with a hint of amusement, but the weight of her distress remained evident in her eyes. She hesitated for a moment, exhaling a breath before finally speaking.
“It’s Natasha.” Wanda admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “I just… I don’t know how to handle all of this.”
As much as Wanda wanted to tell you the reason you fell into a coma, she knew that it wasn’t her place to reveal the information without Natasha’s consent. She had to choose her words carefully.
You listened intently, your heart sinking at the mention of Natasha’s name. The complexity of your relationshipwith her made you feel uncertain and overwhelmed.
How could you be married to someone you couldn’t remember?
“Is Natasha really my wife?” You asked.
You closed your eyes, trying to find any memory that you shared with the woman who was supposedly your wife. But try as you might, your mind remained blank, empty of any intimate or shared memories with the redhead.
Wanda’s expression softened with empathy. “Yes.” She affirmed gently. “Natasha’s your wife.”
“That means you and I… we broke up?” You pressed your lips together, trying not to frown.
“Yeah.” Wanda began, her voice soft but tinged with sadness. "We broke up because I wasn’t ready for become something more. Our relationship... it’s clear that you love Natasha a lot, more than you ever loved me. Even a blind man could see it.”
“Oh.” You sighed, rubbing your thumb over Wanda’s hands. “But… I still love you.”
“Not anymore, Y/N. Your future’s with Natasha now. She loves you a lot and she’s been miserable ever since you got into a coma, so go easy on her, alright?”
Your heart sank at Wanda’s words.
“Alright.” You offered her a bittersweet smile.
A week after waking up, Dr Helen officially diagnosed you with systematic amnesia. Once you had healed under her careful observation, you were discharged and allowed to return to the home you shared with Natasha. Despite your reluctance to burden her with your care, she was the only one you could depend on. Wanda and the other Avengers had their own responsibilities, leaving Natasha as your primary caretaker.
You were still bruising and aching all over, so Natasha assisted you with various miscellaneous tasks, such as managing your medication intake and helping you with showering. Physically and mentally, you were improving, but you still couldn’t remember Natasha.
Gradually, you treated her as if she were a stranger. She understood that it wasn’t intentional, but she didn’t think she’d lose you in the worst way possible.
The way you flinched whenever she touched you, because she was used to doing it back then when the both of you were together. It pained her deeply. You kept your thoughts and feelings to yourself, not trusting her enough to talk about your feelings. Despite this, outwardly, your interactions with her seemed relatively ‘normal’. The both of you never argued, never fought, and you’d spent time together.
It wasn’t the same as it used to be.
When Natasha returned home from her missions, you’d eagerly rush to her, enveloping her in the tightest hug imaginable and peppering her face with kisses. Now, you greeted her with a tight-lipped smile and a small wave.
In the past, you would cuddle together while watching late-night movies, holding her hand and resting your head on her shoulder. Now, there was a noticeable distance between you, an emotional and physical space that seemed to widen with each passing day.
She tried bringing you to a coffee place — the one she brought you on your first date. You were intrigued, but you still couldn’t remember anything.
Natasha was genuinely happy to see you making progress in your recovery. Yet, beneath that happiness, she was beginning to grow impatient. Your health was improving, but the state of your marriage seemed to deteriorate because you were unable to remember anything about her.
And, one day, Natasha finally reached her breaking point. She had prepared dinner for you, setting the table and waiting patiently on the couch for your return. But you didn’t arrive until three hours later, long after the food had grown cold.
“Where were you?” Natasha’s voice held a sharp edge as she crossed her arms.
You hadn’t mentioned going out, let alone with whom.
“I went out with Wanda for dinner.” You responded casually.
“And you couldn’t text me to let me know?” Natasha’s tone grew more aggressive.
Not only had you essentially stood her up, but you had also gone out with your ex-girlfriend — the same ex-girlfriend you might still harbour feelings for. It was ironic. It felt like the tables had turned. She was the one feeling hurt and frustrated this time.
“My phone was dead. Why are you so angry?” Your voice rose, becoming defensive as you retrieved your phone from your jacket pocket and tossed it onto the dining table.
“Because I made dinner for you.”
“So what? I can have it for lunch tomorrow.”
“That’s not the point. I was waiting for you.” Natasha insisted, her tone laced with frustration.
“And I promise I’ll eat it tomorrow. I’m tired, Natasha. I’m going to bed.” You said dismissively, turning away and walking towards the master bedroom.
It continued for months. Natasha almost wanted to give up, contemplating whether to raise the white flag and accept the bitter truth that you would never remember her at all. The constant arguments between you never seemed to reach a resolution. Instead, they ended with either Natasha or you walking away when things got too heated. With time, Natasha felt like the distance between you grew even more larger. You started coming home late, leaving Natasha disappointed as she waited for you to return to the place that once felt like home to both of you. Every dinner she prepared for you went unnoticed, adding to her sense of loneliness and frustration.
Natasha felt as though you had undergone a complete transformation, like someone similar to you but not really, well, you. She was a stranger to you just as you were to her.
You were sitting on a plush chair, engrossed in the pages of a book when she finally accepted defeat. She observed you quietly for a moment, the way you were oblivious to her presence behind her.
“Are we still together?” Natasha asked, her voice breaking the silence.
You looked up to find her standing before you, a mixture of longing and sadness in her gaze.
You closed the book slowly, placing it on the coffee table.
You chuckled bitterly, a touch of sarcasm lacing your words. “Well, legally, I suppose we are.”
Natasha’s heart sank at your response. She had hoped for affection, but instead, she was met with indifference.
“Do you even want us to be together?” Her voice quivered as she spoke.
You studied her momentarily, leaning your head back against the headrest as you looked her up and down. Natasha looked miserable, her cheeks caked with dried tears and eyebags under her eyes from sleepless nights.
“I’m sorry, Natasha.” You murmured softly. “I just… I don’t think we’re working out.”
Natasha felt her heart drop at your words. She had feared this moment, dreaded the possibility of hearing those words from you. Yet, the reality of it hit her like a sudden blow.
Your voice cracked as you spoke, barely on the verge of tears. “I tried. I really did try to remember you. Remember I came home late because I told you I was spending time with Wanda? I was actually walking around the places you brought me to, hoping that I’d remember something, anything.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Natasha asked. Her heart clenched at your words and her tears spill over her cheeks.
“Because I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I didn’t want to disappoint you at the end of the day.” You whispered, standing up from the plush chair and walking over to her. You raised your hand to Natasha’s cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your touch. “I want you, but I don’t think I’m in love with you. You deserve better than this, Natasha. You deserve better than me. You’re not in love with me — You’re in love with the me before the accident.”
Natasha closed her eyes, leaning into your touch, a silent plea for reassurance. But as you withdrew your hand, the ache of longing remained.
Just like how your love was out of touch.
“We can’t keep pretending, Natasha.” You said softly, your voice tinged with regret. “Maybe it’s time we accept that things have changed.”
With a heavy sigh, you turned away, unable to bear the pain of seeing her heartbreak. It pained you to hurt her, but you knew that prolonging the inevitable would only cause more suffering for both of you.
This time Natasha knew that she had to stop you from leaving somehow. She couldn’t make the same mistake twice. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, not again. Not for the third time.
As you headed towards the door, Natasha’s voice trembled as she spoke. “Y/N, please... don’t go.”
But you couldn’t bring yourself to stay. Not when the love you once shared almost felt fake. Like it never happened.
You paused for a moment, your hand on the doorknob, before offering a final, pained glance back at Natasha. “I’m sorry, Natasha. Goodbye.”
And with that, you stepped out the door, leaving behind a redhead with a shattered heart.
In an alternate universe, maybe you could actually remember her and love her eternally.
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-; ੈ♡˳ MINISKIRT
JJK MEN REACTING TO YOU TEASING THEM WITH A MINISKIRT! ★༉‧₊˚✧
(gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, nanami kento)
contents: smut, nsfw, sub behavior, PRAISE, miniskirts, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, whimpering, overstimulation, edging, jealousy, sub-space, fluff, possesive behavior, all of them being DOWN for you, and lovesick for you.
A/N: wrote this while watching the office and drunk so npr, and proabably took so long to write because of this.
gojo satoru
He knows what you’re trying. That’s why he doesn’t give in. And it’s much more difficult when that tiny miniskirt is the color of his eyes, matching perfectly with a top as small as your skirt of his hair color.
Bending over the table just so he could see the matching panties while you ‘try to have a closer look to what Nanami is showing you’ – And he doesn’t know what angers him more, the fact you’re doing this to annoy him and probably other people behind you are watching your panties which he’s trying to cover with his body, or the fact Nanami is more likely watching your tits through that tiny top you’re wearing right now.
He pinches the back of your thigh, making you squeak and sit again as a reaction– looking to your side finding Satoru giving you a glare easily expressing ‘stop what you´re doing’ – and maybe that’s what makes you more eager to tease him now that you’re feeling the wetness coming out of you.
And you know he’s suffering right now. Not only because he’s jealous, but because you’re giving a small piece to someone else of what he supposed it was his.
“Nngh- please baby, i’m sorry- but I couldn’t stand him watching how precious you looked” His cries went to deaf ears as you rode him, edging him for the third? fourth? time. He had some ‘childish’ (that’s what you called it) outburst because he couldn’t stand you teasing him like that, and suddenly after pinching your thigh moved you towards his lap after you sat so you could feel his raging erection and broke Nanami’s chair with the cursed energy he couldn’t control coming out of his body. Something completely new for him.
“Please princess, it was just- You’re so beautiful I can’t let anyone to- I… I just can’t get enough of you.” He ghosted his lips with yours, trying to kiss them but you wouldn’t let him. You were close to another orgasm too, he was yearning for your touch, begging to whatever god stronger than him so you could give him permission to cum.
Who would’ve thought, huh?
If Mahito, Sukuna or any of those fuckers watched him lose control to a girl they woulc’ve laughed at his face, but if they experienced how good it was to be inside of you, feeling your liquids coat him and his pelvis while they come out of you— even though you don’t let him cum, they would’ve understand.
But he won’t let them get even 2 meters near you.
You started kissing his neck, marks that will be very prominent in just some hours, his whimpers bringing you to heaven even with how slow you rode him, just one thrust and he swears he could cum– overstimulation taking the best of him, you just pecked his lips one time and did as what he imagined and failed to keep it in.
“Aw baby, you ruined it! Why couldn’t you wait for me? Wanted to cum so badly? It’s okay, but cum again, okay? Be my good boy and make me cum again mhm?”
geto suguru
Are you doing this on purpose? Or you don't really notice? He swears people could see his raging erection from 10 meters afar, quirks of having a big cock, i guess.
And it’s so fucking embarrasing trying to hide it with the shopping bags you gave him to carry, not only he looked in an awkward position while walking, but the friction– and having you infront of him walking with that mini skirt, would make everyone crazy.
He swears he could just cum while walking and watching your hips move and tease him with your body.
But you just were clueless. Getting excited to find the store you were looking for and do small jumps which had him rolling his eyes to conceal his need for you.
And he was getting needy. Spraying kisses all over your neck when he back-hugged you, he was making it obvious now! Rubbing himself on you, he needed it.
When you finally arrived home, he couldn’t stand it anymore, throwing away the bags somewhere in the kitchen carrying you– having to steady yourself by grabbing what you could from his back and not fall face into the floor while your legs were hanging on his front.
He carried you all the way into your bedroom and dropped you down softly on your bed while he plastered kisses all over your thighs mumbling about how much he missed being between your thighs and how you’ve been playing games with him this entire day.
You were suddenly overcome with excitement. Your clit throbbed and you desperately needed release. Your breath hitched in anticipation. All you could think about was letting Geto finally give you what you’ve been planning this whole day.
“You’re so perfect. So perfect f´me– and all you been doin’ this day was tease me with that tiny skirt of yours baby- had to control myself to not go crazy over ya’”
At times like this, where Geto is kneeling right in front of you with his face buried in the middle of your legs, you are grateful that you lived alone. Because it means you don’t have to hold back your moans when Geto swipes his tongue on your clit. You don’t have to hold back as he roams his tongue around your entrance. You know you genuinely lost it when he wrapped his lips around your bud, giving it a hard suckle that made your hips bucked. Out of instinct, your hand went to his hair. Gripping around the strand of it just to push his head closer to your cunt, letting the tip of his nose pressed against it.
He inhaled, he fucking inhaled to let your scent filled his nose as if his tongue isn’t enough to make you feel stars. Soon enough, you are on your knees, with your face buried on your pillow, tears pooling around your teardox as Geto has his mouth back to your pussy. His tongue moves in and out your hole to build up your orgasm.
“What happened to my teasing girl mhm?”
choso kamo
Poor him. How did he end up in this situation? He swears all he did was give a small peek through your skirt because how couldn’t he?!
You were bending in front of him! And you’re even meaner because you know he has a crush for you since….ever. Kinda embarrassing to be honest. Because he acts like a kid having a crush, even worse, like when a little kid had a crush on their old brothers/sister friends…
But. He won't lie he loves when you punish him like this. Because you praise him for being such dork for you.
"It's okay, baby, you're doing so well for me right now," you lean down and place small kisses on his tear-stained cheeks, his red nose with his black mark and his eyelids eliciting a broken sob from him, "Think you can handle a little while longer, puppy?"
And he’s not thinking very clearly right now– Not when you’re pumping his cock in that tempo that has him seeing stars and crying out loud for you.
“yesyesyesy princess– oh my god- oh my fucking god… i´m sosososoooo lucky to be here with you baby, I love you soo much, i’m so, fuck, nngh!”
He was coming for a fifth? six? time right now. He swears he heard something about you telling him you won’t stop jacking him off until he cums dry.
Choso looked at you, sniffing and wrapping his hand around yours, "But I want to fuck you now..." He mumbled barely audible to you, and you had to close your eyes and take a deep breath or you would've done what he told you to.
And he’s fucking excited for that. To fucking lose his mind and body to you. To dump all his cum wherever and whenever you wanted.
nanami kento
This little fucking pervert! He acts like this ‘oh so mature guy’ when he’s just as down for you as you are for him. He tried not to fall for you once he saw you for the first time in a mission both of you coincidentally crashed into. Being from another part of the world and suddenly connecting through these annoying curses.
But what annoyed him the most was how ‘inappropriate’ you are while working. Wearing those miniskirts of different colors for work. For work!
How is he supposed to focus? How is he supposed to train? Not when you’re moving your legs with that skirt that barely covers your butt and he easily sees the figure of it and your lips begging to be released to be tasted. By him.
And you finally have him where you wanted, right between your legs.
Your moans echo inside your bedroom, and maybe tomorrow you will have your neighbor file a noise complaint to you, but you didn’t mind. To have Kento’s attention only to you worth everything.
At first, Kento wasn't the biggest fan of the size difference between you two, he felt almost too big compared to you.
Well, that was before he knew how good could fuck your needy cunt.
You were just barely holding onto his shoulders, leaving scratch marks that he would not even bother covering up, holding you with ease against the wall. "That's right, bunny, say my name and mark me, let everyone know I'm all yours, let them hear how good I fuck you," Kento whined and clung to you, feeling his cock pumping in and out of your small body, tilting his head forward to look down at the connection between your bodies.
The obvious outline of his length on your lower belly made him roll his eyes to the back of his head, your trembling legs wrapping around his hips, keeping his cock buried deep inside your pulsing pussy, feeling it wanting to milk every drop of his cum.
"Fuck me, more... I need more of your cock kento, please~!"
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