natasha romanoff one-shots (gxg)

𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐩

a/n: you're pregnant and the baby's coming while nat's on a mission

The contractions start making themselves noticeable at around 7pm. You're in the kitchen, cutting up strawberries and eating them simultaneously when they first happen, causing you to drop the knife in surprise. Your hand finds its way to your rounded stomach, your eyes widen a bit as you wait. They stop after 28 seconds, which you count precisely.

Then, they're gone. At least for now. You decide they're probably just Braxton-Hicks, which is nothing to worry about, especially since you're now 37 weeks pregnant. But then, almost half an hour later, they return.

Now you're pretty sure the baby's about to arrive, and you sigh in frustration as you lean against the couch, running your hands through your hair. Natasha's been on that mission for almost two weeks now, and she isn't supposed to return until next week. 'Just in time for your baby's arrival', as Maria said.

Well, Maria was wrong and your baby seems to be a little impatient.

"You got that from your other mom", you mumble at your bump, then you reach for the phone before calling your wife. She picks up within seconds, sounding a bit distressed.

"Honey, hey."

"Hey, Nat. Quick question: when are you coming home?" You draw circles on your stomach, staring at the wall in front of you. It's covered in polaroids of you and Natasha.

"Next week. Monday morning. Why?" You can hear voices in the background.

"Oh, nothing", you say nonchalantly. "It's just that I've gone into labor. At least I'm pretty sure I did."

Silence. Then, a slightly panicked "What??"

"I think the baby's coming. The contractions just started, and we've still got time, but you're like two hours away and maybe you should-"

"You could've told me that immediately. Fury, I have to go. No, it's important...I don't care." She apparently steps out of whatever room she was in, hurrying to pack her things. "Y/N, I'm coming as soon as I can. But isn't the due date next month?"

"Well, it appears that your baby inherited your amount of patience." You grunt quietly as you heave yourself off the couch. "I just hope this isn't a false alarm."

"I don't care if it is." More rustling, something drops and makes a loud noise in the background. "Are you going to the hospital now or will you wait at home?"

"I don't know yet. The contractions are still pretty far apart, so I think I'll wait for now. I'll call if anything changes."

"Okay, darling. Make sure you rest and maybe call Wanda to be with you until I'm home. I don't want you to be alone."

"Okay, I will. I love you."

"I love you."

. . .

Almost two and a half hours later, Natasha still isn't home. You're in the bedroom with Wanda, the woman sitting next to you as she holds your hand through another contraction. It's not horribly painful, but still enough for you to wince silently.

"Where's Natasha?", you ask, desperation in your voice.

"She'll be home soon, don't worry."

"Call her", you demand when the pain has finally faded away.

"Okay, wait."

She passes you the phone.

"Hey, love."