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scar-lie · 2 months

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Save us [Natasha & Scarlett]

Summary : You're tired of fighting, you're losing hope and giving up for your relationship with your two girlfriends who don't want to fight for you

Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader, Scarlett Johansson x Female!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Scarlett Johansson

Warning : Arguing

Word count : 1,723

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

You rub the side of your eyes, getting stressed by the endless argument you have had with your two girlfriends for four years now, and you're losing hope; you're losing everything you have to give for them the further you three argue.

You're getting tired and drained from giving all you have to them without receiving anything back. It feels like you're playing house with them, where they're going to need to go or get tired; they’ll just leave without considering you or your feelings, while you're left without anyone but your thoughts.

“Why can't you fucking understand that?! There are things that're more important than staying here. To what? ...to stay here, so you wouldn't mope around about how sad you are alone! "Natasha screamed, getting frustrated and irritated by the simple things you're asking, and so was Scarlett.

“I do; I do understand what you're pointing at, but you're not listening." You quickly shut your mount when Scarlett interrupts you, so you put your hand to your face, covering how broken you are.

“I act for a living, Y/N. This is what I do before you come into my life; this is my life. I can't just say to them, "Sorry, I’m going to be gone for a week or two; my girlfriend wants me to stay in.” That's not how fucking works.” They are ready to leave, bags already packed, already dressed up; only this argument is making them stay.

“And I save lives for living, so I can't just stop taking a break; just fucking think before you become selfish,” Natasha screamed, slamming the door shut on her way out.

“Not everything is in your favor, not because you're our girlfriend; you can just decide or dictate what we're going to do; you're just our girlfriend,” Scarlett followed suit, leaving you completely alone in your shared home, the one they bought because of how welcoming it is, how the house welcomes the natural light, how peaceful the place is, the big backyard where you're obsessed with growing flowers, fruits, and vegetables—this house is just perfect for their liking and yours. That's why they surprised you with the house.

This is your mark of a happy life ahead of you, and this is the house. That's why they surprise you with the house. “This is our mark of a happy life ahead of us,” “and this is our house that we will make happy memories,” they quote.

But now you're asking yourself if this house makes you three happy anymore—the same house the three of you are planning to have a family with and grow old with until your grandchildren drag your ass out to the backyard to play or do something interesting.

You're losing hope that this relationship will be the same; you're falling into a deep hole further and further down until you reach the peak, where there's no way out if you keep pushing yourself to them.

You're body collided in the soft mattress, your sobs are getting muffled by the pillow you're hugging—their pillow to be exact—soaking it with your tears, all the pent-up frustrating, sleepless nights, the feelings you're bottling are now erupting, making your body shake while crying, not caring if the neighbor can hear you—it's just all too much.

You have nothing else to give anymore; you're drained and done with months of arguing and please them to give you at least a little bit of their time, to put you in their first priority. You're tired of forgiving them over and over again, and you don't think you can open the door to let them in one more time. You have no cards to give to them anymore; all the best cards are already used.

They are again saying how sorry they are and how they are going to make it up to you—key word make-up "sex"—through text the next day, but you can't find any word to reply, so you stick with “ok, it's fine," laying your phone face down on the couch while watching some random movies, rom-coms, TV series, or just anything that can pass your time since you don't have anything to do.

But this doesn't sit right with Natasha and Scarlett, waiting for further massages that never come, or maybe they are waiting for your caring self to text them how they are doing, asking if they already eat or how's their day, or maybe they are waiting for your rambling or complaining about how’s your day goes, or how boring it is that your friends are being bitchy on the internet.

but that never came even in the following days; all they got was a short reply and a cold shoulder, making them uneasy through the next few weeks until they got home, worried and hopeful that once they step in the front door, you're going to throw yourself into them like you always do.

"Darling, we're home! "Natasha and Scarlett shout, dropping their bags in the hallway and locking the door.

“In the lounge,” you reply back, not bothering to stand up to great them properly, you're just sitting there in front of a TV while scrolling through social media.

“Hey, there's no kisses or hugs? "Scarlett sat down next to you, so you kissed her on the cheek, doing the same thing to Natasha when she sat on the other side, mumbling, “Welcome home,” then go back, scrolling down through your phone.

"Hey, stop giving us a cold shoulder; we're here. Isn't that what you want? "Natasha whispers softly, caressing your exposed thigh while trying to read you while Scarlett lays her head on your shoulder. The moves you know from the back of your hand indicate they want sex.

“I’m not in the mood.” You push Nat's hand and Scar's head gently, then stand up, going up to your shared bedroom.

“I think we should give her some space for now,” Scarlett whispered, following you with her eyes and sighing in frustration.

“She's just being dramatic, Scar; she's come running to us eventually,” Nat dismissed, going in the kitchen to drink some water and hoping there's food but finding nothing, so she looked back, giving Scarlett a smile, shaking her head while chuckling.

“Fine, what do you want? "Nat gives her a smirk, knowing her way to get her to cooking.

" Pasta, please” With that, they both chat in the kitchen, catching up and having a little fun like they always do right before you come on the picture.

Hearing them giggling and chuckling from the bedroom makes you hate yourself because they are happy without you, they can go to their day without you, and you hate how they can just continue their day without bothering if you're okay or include you.

So in the end, you just move to the farthest room, which is the guestroom. You three didn't use it much, but these past few months, Natasha and Scarlett have usually used it since you three were always arguing and they ended up sleeping in the guestroom while you're alone in your shared bedroom.

But as each day passes, you're feeling yourself uninterested. Sure, you three interact, but not like before, and today is another argument in Natasha and Scarlett’s minds since they need to go again.

“We're heading out now; be safe here.” Natasha kisses your forehead, followed by Scarlett, and you hum, continuing to read your book.

"Ok,” you simply reply, which sends a shiver down their spine.

“Ok? Aren't you going to tell us how workaholic we are? How come we don't spend time here anymore? Leaving you alone, aren't you going to ask us to give you some of our time? "Scarlett frowns while standing, and Natasha thinks the same way, waiting for your answer.

"No,” you're unbothered; not even a single emotion is showing in your face; you're just calm.

“Why? "You shrug at Natasha's question, turning to the next page.

“Why? "You chuckle sarcastically, making Scarlett uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to another and picking her skin, making Natasha step forward to stop her from getting herself hurt.

“You mean ‘begged you for your time? ’, what's the point? To make myself look desperate? Needy? Selfish? Self-centered? "You shake your head with a scrawl face.

“No thanks, plus whatever I say or do will never stop you from leaving or doing what you want; if you want to leave, then go leave; I don't care anymore.” Their hearts both sank down to the pit of their stomachs.

“Like you always say, what you do is more important than being with me for a few minutes, so I’m saving both of you and me the energy you needed for something and time.” Scarlett held Natasha's arm tightly, finding herself starting to have an anxiety attack, but Natasha was rubbing her back. Natasha felt hurt and worried that they pushed you too far.

Sure, she dearly loves Scarlett. I mean, they're already in a relationship when you join the couple, but that doesn't mean she loves you any less. You're the heart of this house; you're keeping them in their toes; you're their center; you're their foundation that's keeping everything in their surroundings magical; you're their Alice in their Wonderland; the apple in their eyes; their home in their heart; and their key to their locks.

In short, they couldn't function without you; you're the center of everything to them, so this makes their world turn upside down, but in a bad way.

“I-I wanna stay……I-I’ll just call to have at least 2 weeks leave,” Scarlett mumbles, getting lost of words, and all she can think about is being with you, to cuddle you, kiss you, hug you, and just be with you, and so does Natasha.

‘I-I wanna….stay too,” but before they can dial a number, you quickly stop them.

“Oh no, please don't. Don't let me hold you back. Just because I speak what's on my mind, please do leave and go on with your week.” You give them a tight smile, then go back to reading.

But the two shake their heads no, wanting to be as close to you as possible, but before they can approach the bed, their whole world crashes into pieces.

“Besides, I’ve fallen out of love.”

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softgreengrass · 1 year

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Gone Bad

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary: You're a SHIELD agent on a mission gone bad.

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: blood, getting shot, f!reader

Author's Note: hurt/comfort ig? FLUFF. soft natasha :)

You weren’t sure where exactly you went wrong. You had gotten the mission assignment from Fury, done the required research, made sure you were properly trained, and left quickly. Everything had been going exactly to plan — you snuck in through the roof, incapacitated a few guards, and maneuvered to the underground vault that held the top-secret computer chips you were after. The security system was easy to freeze. The vault was easy to crack.

Only, at some point during your exit, you made a mistake. It could’ve been anything: tripping a sensor, or leaving a guard slightly conscious, or, hell, you could’ve taken a wrong turn and walked right in front of a camera. It didn’t matter. The point was, you had fucked up, and now you were getting shot at.

In the midst of the panic and rush, all that was on your mind was how disappointed Fury would be. This was only your fourth solo mission, and sure, the first three had gone off without a hitch, but agents weren’t supposed to make mistakes. If you managed to worm your way out of this with the chips—and that was a big if—would he even trust you to go on another solo? It didn’t seem likely. This operation was supposed to be a secret, it was supposed to happen completely under the enemies’ noses, but that was all hopeless now. They knew that SHIELD was after them. Shit, they knew that SHIELD was after them.

In all of your spiraling, you didn’t notice the hostile sneaking up behind you and cocking a gun. What you did notice, however, was the sharp, burning pain in the center of your stomach. The agony and blood quickly blooming across your torso. The terror that instantly compounded into a heavy sludge in your gut.

In an instant, fear snapped into focus, and you swiftly knocked the man out and found your way to an exit.

There wasn’t a moment for you to catch your breath as you straddled your motorcycle and peeled down the road, away from the facility. You ducked and cranked the throttle when bullets whizzed past you.

Embarrassingly, the thought of having to explain to Fury how you fucked up brought tears to your eyes, so you made a split-second decision. You haphazardly swung right at the next intersection, ignoring the honks and shouts that followed you. You sped away from SHIELD headquarters and gritted your teeth.

Maybe it was the blood loss, or the fact that you were numb with adrenaline and panic, but you were headed towards a place you had only been a few times — strictly on invitation. But it was the only place you could think of that would take you in if you showed up verging on death.

“If she’s not here,” you wheezed to yourself, stepping off of your bike and limping through the dark parking garage. “I’ll just check her other place. Yeah. I’ll check the other place.”

No matter how many times you repeated that to yourself, by the time you had dragged yourself to her door, you knew you had no chance of getting anywhere else. You were already dangerously lightheaded, swaying with every knock you landed.

At some point you collapsed against it. You didn’t want to believe that she wasn’t home. You couldn’t.

Your name, foggy and distorted, pulled you from comfortable darkness. Hands shook your shoulders, and someone called your name again.

Natasha’s face blurred into focus. There was a crease between her eyebrows. “What happened?”

The day came flooding back, and with it, the pain. “Mission,” you breathed weakly.

The corners of her mouth quirked up, her eyes brightening. “Mission?”

“Didn’t really go well,” you finished, glancing down at your shirt. It was soaked through with blood.

Natasha’s gaze followed yours, and a heavy sigh escaped her lips. “Why didn’t you go back to SHIELD?”

You swallowed.

After a moment of thick silence, she stood up from her crouched position and grabbed your hands, pulling you to your feet with ease. Your vision immediately went black and you slumped against her.

“Okay,” she mumbled, trying to quiet the fear roaring inside of her. “Okay, let’s get you inside.”

When you came to for a second time, it was nearly sunrise, and Natasha sat beside you on the couch, watching a muted hockey game. Your shirt was off, leaving you in a sports bra, and your stomach was wrapped in clean white gauze. When you shifted, her attention immediately snapped to you.

“Morning,” she said quietly, her expression an amalgamation of amusement and concern.

You forced a small smile. In truth, your head was pounding like it never had before.

As if she read your mind, she reached over to the coffee table and grabbed the painkillers and glass of water sitting, ready. She offered them to you gently.

When you had chugged the entire glass, sighed dramatically, and leaned back, she spoke.

“So are you going to tell me why I came home and found you bleeding out at my door at midnight?”

You didn’t want to, but then again you had no choice. “Got shot,” you grunted.

“Yeah, I noticed that,” she bit. “Why?”

“Mission went wrong.” You screwed your eyes shut, willing the pain away.

“I’m gonna need more information than that.”

“Didn’t wanna go to SHIELD.”

She seemed to realize that her hard attitude wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She took a deep breath and looked at you — really looked at you. The dark circles under your eyes, the sunkenness of your cheeks, the slight shaking of your hunched shoulders. The bruises covering you. Her heart clenched.

“What happened?” she asked, this time softly. It caught you off guard.

“I-” your voice broke, and you closed your mouth before a sob could escape.

“Oh, baby,” she mumbled, pulling you into her arms, careful not to strain your wound. “It’s okay.”

You hid your face in her neck, holding back more tears. Her arms wrapped around you securely, holding you so tightly you didn’t think she’d ever let go. You didn’t want her to let go.

“It’s okay,” she repeated, kissing your hair.

“I messed up,” you whimpered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I-”

“All that matters is that you’re okay,” Natasha said. “Understand? That’s all that matters.”

You couldn’t stop the hot tears from rolling down your cheeks. “But the mission…”

“The mission doesn’t matter.”

She sounded so sure of herself, you couldn’t even argue. Maybe she would talk to Fury for you. Maybe it would be okay.

White-hot guilt shot through you. Who were you to show up at her doorstep like this? To force her to care for you, and then expect her to save you from Fury’s wrath? Sure, you weren’t strangers, but this was asking too much. You shouldn’t have been making her worry. You shouldn’t have kept her up all night. You shouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place — no. This was all your fault.

You wanted to act on your guilt, push her away and block her out, but your body wasn’t listening to your brain. Your hands refused to move, except to grip her shirt tighter. All you could manage to do was squeak out another apology. “I’m sorry.”

“Shhh,” she whispered, stroking your back. “It’s okay.”

You couldn’t help but break down sobbing. After a few minutes, Natasha reassuring you and whispering your name like a prayer, you found yourself taking a deep breath.

“I want to take you to headquarters,” she murmured into your hair.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“Just for the injuries,” she rushed to say, quick to continue rubbing your back. You sighed in relief. “It’s okay that a mission went bad. It happens to everyone.”

You shook your head against her. “No, this was, it didn’t go bad, I fucked it up.”

“That’s okay.”

“I shouldn’t have made a mistake,” you croaked, pulling away from her. Your hair stuck to your red, tear-streaked face, and she still placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. She still looked at you with nothing but care in her eyes.

“I don’t care that you made a mistake.”

Yet again, she’d caught you off guard. You couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“What was the mission?” she asked quietly, slowly moving strands of hair out of your face.

“I had to recover these stupid computer chips,” you scoffed, looking down.

“What happened to the chips?”

You pulled them out of the pocket on your pant leg and tossed them onto the coffee table. Natasha’s eyebrows flew up.

“So you didn’t mess up. You completed the mission.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “They weren’t supposed to know I was there.”

“So what?” she laughed, genuinely laughed, and you looked up. “You still won.”

Oh. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal after all.

Her eyes softened and she brushed more hair off of your face before kissing your forehead again. “You did good.”

That sent you into another crying fit, but Natasha didn’t mind. She would happily spend the rest of her life drying your tears. She held you close to her chest, lightly scratching the base of your scalp.

You couldn’t believe how soft she was. Soft, and cozy, and you never wanted to leave her arms.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #marvel #mcu #black widow #black widow x reader #hurt/comfort #fluff #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett x reader #scarlett

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