She is my reason (Natasha Romanoff x Y/n female reader)

Part 30: never alone

A few weeks go by. Natasha is happier than ever which somehow also seems to be influencing my mental wellbeing. I haven't relapsed in a while and I actually don't feel terrible...

However, for me and with the history of my thoughts that never shut up and are wired to catastrophize... after every high there comes a low. A low that hits more than the usual ones 'cause you only know you've been high when you're feeling low. (-Passenger)

However, right now, looking in Nat's eyes, my life couldn't be better.

We stumble into my room, Natasha's hands on my waist, mine in her hair.
„Jarvis, lock the door." Natasha calls out, simultaneously pushing me onto the bed. My back hits the bed and a second later, Natasha is towering over and straddling me.

I gulp and she smirks. „Are you a bit warm, Y/n?"
I nod and she pulls off my sweater before I get rid of her shirt. She leans down again to trace my jawline with her thumb.

„You're gorgeous."
I blush. Not entirely believing her and not knowing what to answer, I pull her in for a long kiss.

Natasha lets out a low groan, her tongue finding mine. While my hands roam over her upper body, Nat repositions herself. Her knee is now resting in between my legs, applying pressure. I suck in a sharp breath. „Fuck."
Natasha chuckles into my mouth.

Her breath by my ear sends a tremor through my entire body. Nat tugs at my waistband.
I nod absentmindedly, occupied with her belt.

Natasha hasn't even fully pulled down my pants when she freezes.
I look at her, completely startled by the worry in her eyes. „What?"
„Y/n... those are fresh."

I internally slap myself. How could I forget?! I am so stupid.

I shake my head. „No, they're old. You know I have scars."
Stupidly, I can't meet Natasha's eyes, ultimately letting her know that I am lying.

Nat sits up straight, settling beside me. „Y/n, I am not stupid. They can't be older than a day."
I shrug, „They are! I didn't do anything!" My voice rises but I contain myself before I actually start shouting. It is not Natasha's fault.

„Y/n..." Nat sighs soothingly, taking my hand. „Tell me the truth."
„I am fine. Everything's fine!"

„Y/n, come on." She leans her forehead against mine.
I sigh, before actually telling the truth. „You're right."
She pulls me up and I fall into her arms. „I'm sorry.", I mutter, ashamed. 

Nat starts caressing my back, running her hands over my head. „No, do not apologise."
But I hate myself.

We stay like that for a while, my head on Natasha's shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around me. I'm not crying because for a while now, I haven't been able to. My body (or my mind) doesn't let me. Instead, I stare at the white wall behind us.

After a few moments of silence, I pull away and shrug. „I'm fine. It's really not that big of a deal."
Nat huffs, „Shut up. Stop downplaying your feelings."

After having put on our tops again, Nat sighs once again. „Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you come to me?"
I shrug, still unable meet her eyes and start playing with the hem of my sweater. „I- just, I couldn't. Sorry"