DARED BY MS ROMANOFF | Marvel AU | Natasha Romanoff X Reader X Wanda Maximoff

8

A/N: I'm back! Thank you all for so much support over the nearly three years this book has been published for. Hopefully, I will be able to finish this story in the near future. Please enjoy, as we will pick up right where we left off.

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Natasha gave me a nasty glare, per usual, when I said something she didn't agree with, but I ignored it and picked up my red wine, taking a small sip. When putting it down, the glass slipped out of my hands right onto Romanoff.

Her eyes blazed with fury as the red wine stained her pristine white jacket. Silence hung in the air for a moment, broken only by the sound of the shattering glass. I held my breath, unsure of what her reaction would be.

Tony's expression shifted from amusement to concern as he glanced between Natasha and me. "Easy, Nat," he said, his voice soothing but firm. "It's just a jacket."

Natasha's jaw clenched, her gaze still fixed on me. "Just a jacket?" she repeated, her voice low and dangerous. "This was custom-made from the finest materials. Do you have any idea how much it cost?"

I swallowed hard, feeling a knot of guilt tighten in my stomach. "I-I'm so sorry, Natasha," I stammered, scrambling to find the right words. "It was an accident, I swear. Let me pay for the damages."

Tony intervened before Natasha could respond, sensing the tension escalating. "Come on, let's not ruin the evening over a little spill," he suggested, trying to diffuse the situation. "We'll get it cleaned up, and everything will be fine."

But Natasha's icy demeanor didn't thaw. She shot me one last withering glare before pushing back her chair and striding out of the room without another word. Tony sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.

"I should go help her tidy up.." I offer, getting up and following her out.

"Red wine on white will never come out," Tony turns to Wanda, "but they can try. Whatever helps them sleep at night."

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I followed Natasha's trail to the bathroom, where I found her hunched over the sink, scrubbing furiously at the stain on her jacket. The rich smell of red wine filled the air, mixing with the faint scent of her perfume. She looked up as I entered, her expression a mix of frustration and resignation.

"Natasha, please, let me help," I pleaded, stepping closer cautiously. She didn't protest as I took a damp cloth from the counter and joined her at the sink.

"It's not going to come out," she muttered, her voice tinged with defeat. "I'll never be able to wear this jacket again."

I bit my lip, feeling a surge of guilt wash over me. "I'll buy you a new one, I promise," I reiterated, gently taking the jacket from her and inspecting the stain. Despite her efforts, the wine had already seeped deep into the fabric, leaving a stubborn mark behind.

"No! You can't buy me another jacket! It's one of a kind! It's irreplaceable!" Natasha sighed heavily, leaning back against the counter and running a hand through her hair.

"Ms Romanoff.. I'm so sorry. But it can be replaced, that's a basic Anne Fontaine jacket, and yes, it's expensive but it isn't one of a kind by any means.." I try to comfort her.

"Well this one is..." she pauses for a moment then continues, "It was a gift to me. When I graduated from design school, my best friend gave it to me. Right before he passed." she said quietly, her gaze fixed on the floor

Her words struck a chord, and I nodded solemnly, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I don't even know what to say," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm truly sorry for what happened." For a moment, there was silence between us, broken only by the sound of running water as I continued to dab at the stain. I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "I had no idea."