ScarWidow/Wandnata one shots

[♦️The Fight With Bruce]

3rd person pov

"God, you just don't get it, Natasha!" Bruce yelled furiously, his face inches from hers.

"You should have told me from the beginning of our relationship," he growled. "It's something I deserved to know."

"But...But I tried to!" Natasha stammered, her lip trembling as tears welled up in her eyes.

"You just didn't want to listen to me," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You said it wasn't a big deal, that we'd figure it out—"

"Well, maybe it's a big deal!" Bruce cut in, his jaw clenched and his fists balled. "Maybe it wasn't a big deal then, but it is now!" His veins pulsed with tension as he breathed heavily, his anger barely contained.

Natasha's gaze met Bruce's, and she saw a look she'd never expected: hatred. Her heart sank as she realized he viewed her as damaged goods, something irreparably broken. The love and admiration in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a cold disdain.

"But I—" she began, her voice shaking.

"And you're acting like this doesn't affect you at all," Bruce accused, his voice dripping with venom. "Doesn't it affect—"

"How could you possibly think that doesn't affect me?" Natasha sobbed, tears streaming down her face as she slumped back on the bed, her shoulders sagging in exhaustion.

"Well, I would never know because you didn't talk to me about it, would I?" Bruce's words dripped with venom, the venomous tone cutting through the air like a knife.

"But, Bruce—" Natasha stuttered, her voice cracking as she wiped away tears that fell like a heavy rain.

"To think I was the only monster on the team," Bruce sneered, his disdain evident in every syllable. He turned and stormed out of the room; the door slamming shut behind him with a loud crash that echoed through the silence.

Natasha's body jolted as if she'd been physically struck, her trembling fingers trembling even harder as she blinked back tears. The pain of his words was like a thousand daggers piercing her soul, each one tearing her apart from the inside out. Her heart felt shattered, irreparably broken into a million pieces that lay scattered across the floor. The thought of his words repeated over and over in her mind like a cruel mantra: "And to think I'm the only monster on the team." She felt like she was drowning in a sea of despair, unable to catch her breath as the weight of his rejection crushed her.

Time blurred as Natasha lay curled in a foetal position. Tears had soaked the pillow beneath her head, and each ragged breath sent fresh tremors through her body. Her trembling fingers fumbled with the phone, the cool glass a stark contrast to the burning ache in her chest.

Wanda's name stared back at her, a beacon in the storm of emotions.  Natasha hesitated, the weight of the late hour pressing down on her. Didn't she want to give Wanda a peaceful night? But the need for comfort, for a familiar touch, was a relentless tide pulling her under.

With a deep breath, she tapped the call button. The phone seemed to ring for an eternity before a sleepy voice answered. "Hey, Nat."

The sound of Wanda's voice, even thick with sleep, was a lifeline. A sob escaped Natasha's lips, raw and uncontrolled. Words wouldn't come, but the sound spoke volumes.

"Nat? What's wrong? Are you okay?" Panic laced Wanda's voice, a stark contrast to the drowsiness of moments ago.

Natasha could only manage a whispered, "Wanda..." before the dam broke.

"Darling, what's wrong? Are you okay? Should I come over?" Questions tumbled out of Wanda, each one a testament to her growing concern.

"You don't - I -" Natasha stammered, overwhelmed.