𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 & 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭

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a/n: mama!nat (not biological), teen!reader, coming out...just a little blurb

don't judge me for the title i'm bad at naming chapters lmao

i usually don't write stuff like this but i was in the need for some comfort :,)

. . .

A delicious smell of spices and herbs greets you when you walk into the compound. You kick off your shoes and throw your backpack into a corner before making your way to the kitchen, your stomach rumbling faintly. Natasha, standing in front of the stove, immediately throws a glance over her shoulder when she hears someone enter the room. As soon as she sees that it's you, she relaxes visibly with a small smile on her face.

"Hey, kid", she says, her eyes on the pot in front of her but her attention still on you. "How was school?"

"Boring." You sit down on the counter, peeking into the pot. Natasha's heating up a mixture of chicken and veggies that are swimming in a sauce. "Curry?"

"Yes."

"Yay."

She glances at you, smiling. "School was boring, you said?"

You sigh and nod. "Obviously. I mean, biology was decent, but I nearly fell asleep during Calculus. And at lunch-"

Natasha's eyebrows shoot up as she interrupts you. "You didn't actually fall asleep though, right?"

"That's such a you-thing to ask. No, I didn't actually fall asleep."

"Just checking. Keep going."

You roll your eyes, giving her a playfully exasperated look. Natasha grins as she takes two plates from the cabinet.

"Anyways —", you continue, unable to hide your amusement at the story you're about to tell, "at lunch, we had this teacher walking around 'cause some kids keep bringing slingshots and shooting food at others. But he forgot to check one table, and they shot him in the back of the head with mashed potatoes when he wasn't looking. Then he slipped and crashed into this kid, who fell and broke his arm."

It's hard for Natasha to stifle her laughter. "That's not funny, Y/N. People got hurt."

You eye her suspiciously. "You're giggling."

"I'm not giggling."

"Your face is red."

She flicks your knee, making you flinch. "Hey!"

The older one grins, handing you a plate of rice and curry. "Everything okay?"

"Don't just flick me!"

"Don't know what you're talking about. Eat."

You roll your eyes and dig in. The food tastes good — too good. You look up at Natasha.

"Who made this?"

She tilts her head. "I did."

You narrow your eyes. "Liar."

It's no secret that Natasha isn't exactly a chef — even if her food doesn't taste bad, it's still far from great. And what you're tasting right now is nothing short of heavenly, seasoned to perfection and with a little kick to it.

"I'm not lying", she argues, scooping up some rice and curry with her fork. "Just shut up and be grateful I'm feeding you."

You shake your head and eat another bite. "It's so good", you mumble. "Did Wanda-"

"No."

You look up. "That was a quick answer."

"I'll sew your mouth shut", she threatens, a playful edge to her voice.

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