prompt: "who wouldn't be angry? you ate all my cereal and faked your death for three years!"
note: i have no idea what this is i'll be honest, this was just for funsies and i wanted to see if i could write this prompt. so don't be too harsh </3
warnings: none :P
. . .
adjusting to life without natasha felt impossible. it took over a year and a half to accept her death. you'd gone through all the other stages of grief, but acceptance was the most difficult to come to terms with.
it'd been three years now, and you still cried on anniversaries, the date of her death being the worst of them.
but you could get through the days, weeks, months. time no longer felt as suffocating as it once did. you no longer carried anger towards sunny days or the presence of someone else's company.
things were casual. you were out with friends, laughing as you kicked rocks down the pavement. there was no particular destination in mind, but it was nice to feel free for just for a little while before you had work in the morning. the conversation was smooth, there was talk of moving cities and following dreams too far-fetched to even fathom.
before you knew it, you found yourself back inside your car. as you shut your door though, your pocket-sized picture of natasha fell from your sun visor. the action caught you off guard, causing your breath to stick in your throat.
as much as you hated to say it, natasha hadn't crossed your mind in a little over a month. remembering this triggered a surge of guilt to shock your heart.
you didn't want to forget her, and that's what it felt like. how could you do that? and how would natasha feel about it?
with a deep sigh and a clenched jaw, you put your car in reverse and drove yourself home.
you fumbled with your keys as you unlocked the front door. to your surprise however, you were met with a head of bright, red hair twisted into a french braid.
it couldn't be.
"natasha?"
the familiar-looking woman spun around at the sound of your voice, setting your now empty box of cheerios on the counter.
"hi."
"you- no, there's no way!"
"yes baby, it's me. im here." natasha moved to step towards you, but you backed away instantly, not missing the flash of hurt reflect in her eyes.
"you're not real, you're not real, you're not real! this is some fucked up joke played by the universe. you're dead. you've been dead! this can't be hap-"
natasha swiftly moved in front of you, cupping your face with her hands. they were gentle, soft to the touch just as you remembered.
"i'm not dead. this is real, i'm really here. i'm sorry i was gone for so long."
she pulled you in for a hug that you were sure would break you. "oh my god i missed you so, so, so much."
"i- how?"
"they call me black widow for a reason, baby."
the excitement in the air quickly died down, your face frowning into realization that she'd been alive the entire three years you'd mourned her.
"why the fuck didn't you tell me anything?" natasha tilted her head in confusion. "are you angry?"
"who wouldn't be angry? you ate all my cereal and faked your death for three years!"
the russian crossed her arms, rolling her eyes in faux annoyance. "i can get you a new box of cereal tomorrow morning if it's that important to you."
"you've got to be kidding me. you're not- oh my god!" natasha picked you up bridal style mid-sentence, not caring at all how mad you were.
"you can be upset all you want later, or even now, i don't care. you can scold me all you want, just let me hold you while you do it." you clung to the back of natasha's neck, waiting for her to set you down.
and when she did, you found yourself in the bed of your room. you sat up, waiting for natasha to lay down. she already knew what you wanted, and she was happy to comply. her back lay flat against the mattress, arms reaching out to lay you on top of her. it was something you liked to do whenever you were extremely upset and having her hold you from behind wasn't enough.
your hips laid across the belt of her jeans, hands digging their way underneath natasha as her arms crossed over your spine.
"you're like a koala," she mumbled.
"you always say that." you giggled before pressing a kiss against her cheek. "never, ever do that again natasha, or i'll... well i don't know what i'd do, but i wouldn't be happy."
"making you happy is the only thing i want to do."
your grip around the russian tightened, as if you were afraid she'd slip away again. and although you tried to ignore it for the sake of the moment, the overwhelming realization that natasha was back shocked you yet again.
one sniffle and natasha pushed you back. she could tell you were trying to suppress your cries, but she knew it was better to let everything out than to keep it locked in.
"i'm here. it's okay, you won't ever lose me again. i'm here – i promise i'm here." she cooed. the back of her index finger offered a gentle stroke around your face.
you looked down at natasha once more, taking in her appearance. her green eyes were bright, radiating liveliness as they scanned over your body. her lips were pink and full, and her infamous red hair was tangled, strewn across the pillow beneath her head.
"the last time i saw you the ends of your hair were blonde." natasha grinned, your statement flooding her brain with memories of the night you bleached her hair.
"i cut off what was left when i got bored of it. do you not like my hair the way it is now?" she teased, giving your hips a small squeeze.
"no, no, i love it! red has always been your look. and it's much softer than the blonde, anyway." natasha hummed her reply before tugging you back down into her arms.
"let's just stay like this for a while, yeah?"
"of course natty."
