This chapter contains nursing/breastfeeding! If that's not something you're okay with, I'll see you in the next chapter!
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Natasha wants nothing more than to cry as she stares defeatedly down at you. You were sprawled out on the couch in nothing but a diaper, your skin flushed and scolding to the touch. Your face was soaked with tears, eyes red and swollen, and you were wailing so hard she could barely even hear herself think.
You'd been in hysterics since throwing up your breakfast hours earlier, and nothing she does is even coming close to calming you down. You'd stopped for ten minutes after crying yourself to sleep, but after Natasha had accidentally woken you up by changing your diaper, you were back at it with full force.
Her ears were ringing, her head was pounding, and she just wanted everything to stop. She'd had to set you down because she could feel herself nearing her breaking point, and she didn't want to inevitably end up snapping at you despite the growing urge to do so.
She knew you couldn't help it, but this was becoming too much, and she hated herself for thinking that.
With a heavy sigh, she bends down and hauls you back up into her arms. Your legs settle either side of her hips, hanging limply, and she brings one of her arms down to support you as she cups the back of your head. You wail loudly into her ear as she begins to pace around the room with a light bounce in her step, and she feels herself beginning to break.
"Please stop," she whispers as she comes to a standstill and closes her eyes, a single tear streaming down her cheek. "Please y/n. Stop. It's okay, you're okay." She manoeuvres you sideways before setting herself down onto the couch with you cradled in her arms. You end up nestled against the crook of her arm and breast, and she leans down to press a tender kiss to the scolding hot skin of your forehead.
Your hands tremble as you cling to the material of her shirt, your wails rising an octave, and Natasha has to refrain from dumping you onto the couch and leaving the room. This wasn't your fault, she reminds herself as she begins to softly bounce her legs. You were sick, and small, and unable to communicate how you were feeling. This wasn't your fault.
"You're going to make yourself sick," she murmurs with a quiet sniffle as she reaches forward to grab the pacifier from the coffee table, swiping the nipple against your lips. Your mouth instinctively opens, and you suckle for approximately three seconds before spitting the soother out with another wail. Not letting it deter her, Natasha tries again, this time gently holding the pacifier in place. You seem to accept it this time, your red rimmed, puffy eyes staring up at her in heartbreaking confusion.
"I know," Natasha murmurs with understanding as she lets go of the pacifier and tucks your soaking wet hair behind your ear. "It sucks being sick, doesn't it?" She then uses the pad of her thumb to wipe the tears off of your cheeks, leaning down to press her lips against your hairline.
You sniffle softly as your bottom lip trembles behind your pacifier, and Natasha's eyes widen as she prepares herself for yet more tears. Surprisingly however, they don't come. You simply let out a quiet whimper as you burrow yourself against her chest, and Natasha lets out a quiet breath of relief as she adjusts you so your head was tucked beneath her chin and tightens her arm around your bare frame.
Her hand instinctively comes down to pat your padded behind, and she groans internally when she realises you needed to be changed. "I'm sorry baby." She murmurs regretfully as she rises to her feet with you cradled in her arms and hurries towards the bedroom.
After easing you down onto the bed and grabbing a clean diaper along with wipes and baby powder, she makes quick but careful work of making you nice and dry. She even extends the process a little by giving your upset tummy a massage, smiling at the content gurgle she receives in response.
After cleaning up and washing her hands, she decides there was no point in going back into the living room and simply climbs into bed with you in her arms. She sits herself against the headboard with her legs bent in front of her, situating you so that you were sat straddled within the dip of her hips with your head nestled just beneath her chin.
Your hand slips beneath her shirt and clings to the cup of her bra, but this time, not a word of complaint escapes Natasha's lips. She simply holds you close with one arm around your waist, and the hand of the other running soothing circles against the bare skin of your back. Your quiet suckles against your pacifier was the only sound that fills the room, and Natasha has never been more happy with silence in her entire life.
It takes ten or so minutes before the soft brushes of your pacifier against her neck stop signalling you'd fallen asleep, and Natasha lets out a quiet sigh as she reaches over to grab her phone from the nightstand.
With the day she's had, she'd rather set herself on fire than put you down and risk waking you up.
Natasha scrolls almost aimlessly through her social media for the best part of an hour before she feels your pacifier fall from your lips and hit her arm on the way down to the bed. She distractedly goes to reach for it, but stops abruptly and rips her attention away from her phone when she feels your lips begin to suckle at the skin just beneath her collar bone.
Not wanting to risk waking you by craning her neck, she uses her phones front camera to get a good look at what you were doing. You were still snoozing away, obliviously unaware of what you were doing, and despite the initial internal panic she'd felt, Natasha couldn't help but quirk her lips up into a wary smile at the infantile action. Not wanting a hickey, she grabs the pacifier and pokes the nipple against the corner of your mouth.
You unlatch from her skin and take the pacifier into your mouth, a quiet, content sigh escaping your nose and hitting her neck.
Yeah. She knows the feeling.
*
Many hours later, Natasha finds herself holding you beneath the warm stream of the shower. You were as bare as the day you were born, and Natasha was adorned in nothing but her bra and underwear. You were limp in her arms, head heavy against her shoulder and legs hanging either side of her hips as your hand clings to the strap of her bra. She was humming softly, making sure to keep the vibrations deep in her chest closest to where your head was.
It was nearing midnight, and Natasha had just finished cleaning up the seventh puking incident of the day after the half a bottle she'd spent an hour trying to convince you to drink had made a violent reappearance.
You had cried a little, but you were so tired and out of energy that you could do nothing more than let her clean you up. You'd looked so pitiful and anxious, and Natasha's heart had just broke.
After careful thinking, she'd decided that a warm shower would be the best option to get you settled again.
She'd initially felt a little anxious about being basically nude in front of you, but when you'd had no outward reaction other than letting out a quiet whimper and holding out your arms to be held, she'd allowed herself to relax significantly.
"How's your tummy feeling?" She murmurs, shifting you slightly on her front when she feels you begin to slip. "Any better?"
"No mama." You whimper pitifully, and Natasha frowns as she reaches forward to turn off the water. She slips out of her wet bra and underwear before bundling both of you up into two separate towels, heading through to the bedroom and easing herself down onto the end of the bed. She shifts you so you were cradled in her arms before offering you some more medicine, and you sniffle slightly as you swallow with a look or slightly disgust on your face.
Looking at you, it was clear to see you were maybe the littlest you've ever been. Your gaze wouldn't focus on anything, and it looked as though your head was too heavy for you to hold up yourself. Drool was dripping down your chin, and your lips were moving in a suckling motion as you root around her chest for something to suckle on.
It was all so infantile, so needy, and something inside of Natasha just seems to click.
She doesn't let herself hesitate as she pulls one side of her towel down freeing her breast, cupping it and grazing her nipple against your bottom lip. Instinct has you immediately latching on, and Natasha lets out a sharp breath at the pain that shoots through her as she attempts to adjust you.
She was no pro at this, but she immediately knew that the latch you had was not right. For one, it was freaking painful. And two, you were struggling to suckle. You thankfully allow her to adjust you slightly, and soon, both her nipple and areola were in your mouth and you were suckling softly. You were staring up at her in what appeared to be pure awe, and Natasha couldn't help but smile at the innocence as she softly trails the pad of her thumb over your moving bottom lip.
"Is that good?" She asks in a soft coo, and you make a quiet snuffling sound as your hand rises to rest on the swell of her breast. Natasha's own hand covers it and gives it a soft squeeze, and you grin slightly behind her breast. "I'm going to take that as a yes." She muses with a grin, and you kick your legs softly.
As she stares down at you, suckling softly with droopy eyes, Natasha doesn't quite know why she'd put this off for as long as she'd had. Rationally, she was well aware why, but if she'd known that she'd feel so...maternal; so protective and compelled to keep you safe, perhaps she would have agreed sooner. This was...this was one of the best things she'd ever felt in her entire life. She'd never felt so complete before.
A quiet whimper breaks Natasha from her thoughts, and she flickers her eyes over to see you already staring up at her with a disgruntled look on your face. Your tiny tongue was peeking out as you suckle, and it was one of the most adorable things Natasha had ever had the pleasure of witnessing.
She smiles softly as she leans down to kiss your forehead, "I'm sorry. Was mama not paying enough attention to you, mhh?" She retorts playfully as she cups your cheek and grazes the pad of her thumb over the soft skin, and you simply grunt in acknowledgment as you kick your legs against her hip. Natasha placates you by beginning to pat your behind, rocking you slightly back and forth in hopes it would help you succumb to dreamland.
By now, it was clear to see you were only seconds away from falling asleep, and Natasha silently urges you to hurry up so she could get you diapered before you had an accident. It had completely slipped her mind earlier, and she so badly hopes it wouldn't bite her in the butt.
"Shh. Go to sleep for mama," she soothes as she continues to rock you back and forth, and you seem to internally fight with yourself for a second before your eyes flutter shut.
Natasha grins. "Good girl." She praises. "You must be so sleepy after the long day you've had. Shh, sleepy girl. You're okay." Her voice strays off into a barely audible whisper when you finally go limp against her, her breast slipping from your mouth. Your hand, however, remains resting on the swell of it.
She notices her nipple was slightly red and swollen, and Natasha couldn't help but wince a little as she places a pacifier into your mouth before ever so gently easing you onto the end of the bed. She would definitely have to pick up some cream the next time she ventures outside. This shit was painful.
She diapers you quickly and efficiently before tucking you beneath the blankets, sending you one last look of adoration before heading into the bathroom to get ready for bed herself. With the knowledge that you would probably attempt to nurse again several times throughout the night, she forgoes a bra and simply slips into an oversized shirt and underwear.
After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she finds herself slipping beneath the blankets of her bed.
Finally.
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