"We met by chance; it was the greatest chance I have ever received in my life."
Irmina König, a German that grew up in war, met Natasha Romanoff, a Russian that grew up in violence. They were careful and hostile with everyone else they met. But wh...
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12 May 2013
"Oh Darling," Irmina whispered, entering her apartment to find Natasha just asleep—waiting for her to come home. As quietly as possible, she placed the keys in the little holder and took off her shoes. She cursed herself when Natasha twitched a little, not knowing it was the nightmares or her noisy ass. The older woman took a second to herself in her spot, scolding herself for coming home so late.
She heard shuffling from the sofa and Irmina quickly but silently approached her side, settling herself on the carpeted floor and slowly trying to wake her girlfriend up.
"Natty," she whispered, her hand softly nudging her shoulder and it never took much to wake assassins/spies up but tonight, the nightmare had a grip on her. "Natalia."
Natasha shot up and cringed away from the cold hands, tears spilling out from her eyes. Irmina just released her hold and let Natasha backed away, her knees hugged to her chest as her chin rested on her arm.
After a couple of seconds, she stretched out her cold hand for Natasha.
"I'm home."
The Black Widow finally made sense to who was in her space, trying to save her from the nightmare.
"You're home," Natasha breathed, pouncing on Irmina and knew that she would catch her. There they lay in each other's comfort on the carpeted floor. She desperately needed her hold, their legs entangled, her hand under Irmina's shirt which she unbuttoned the uniform first then untucked it so she could do exactly that and her head on her chest, the sound of her heart always calmed her mind. "Sorry."
"No need to apologise Darling," Irmina whispered, she had a slight guilt because she was the cause of some of that nightmares.
"Don't feel guilty—this time it wasn't you," Natasha joked, fingers drawing circles on Irmina's stomach.
The older woman let out a breathy chuckle, "That is reassuring."
"Have you eaten?"
"I am not letting you cook. I love you but you might just actually kill us."
"I hate you."
"I am saving the both of us and we need to take care of *our* kid."
Natasha was taken aback, surprised at the statement. She didn't consider herself as Anna's mother figure but Anna does, she is overjoyed that she has two. Not bothered of a missing father figure, Irmina is basically the 'father figure' with all her masculinity. She is more of a gentleman, well, gentlewoman than half of the existing men out there.
Hell, her name in the criminal underworld is King—even after they found out she was at least a woman.
"Thank fuck I don't have work tomorrow," Irmina groaned, picking Natasha up all together as she stood up. The redhead yelped before laughing, wrapping her legs around Irmina's waist. "What should we have for supper, Darling?"
