#Natasha Romanoff sh

[wrotethisat12]

Old habits

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

request:

Hiya! Is it possible for you to do a y/n x Natasha where y/n sometimes gets teased by her teammates as a joke . The result for that is that she ends up throwing up what they eat this started at a young age aswell so its like a relapse ❣️

can you include Natasha also seeing sh scars and she gets worried but y/n has been clean for a while so they tell her that.

Thank you!

Length: medium?

Tw: pûrg!ng, mentions of past s3lf harm, eat1ng d1sorders, mention of fire (metaphorically), ummm a comment about somebody’s ass at the beginning too.

this can be interpreted as either platonic or romantic, I didn’t specify the relationship. Not proofread.

please if you ever feel like this I have open dms and open arms I’m here for you, please find some help.

“Ooh, you’ve got some ass to grab, L/n!”

You tried to hide your flinch. They don’t know. They didn’t mean it. Calm down. You kept running, ignoring the comment of your teammate, who was sitting on the edge of the field with sweaty hair and a Nalgene water bottle. I am beautiful. I am healthy. I am loved. You repeated the affirmations that your therapist, Miriam, had taught you.

By the time you had finished your laps, most of the burning wildfire in your head from the comment was gone. You sat down next to your teammates and laughed with them, drinking your water.

“Hey.” Natasha, a fiery redhead, had finished her laps and sat down next to you. The two of you had never been close, having just met each other this year, but she seemed pretty nice. You turned towards her.

“Guess I beat you this time,” you said.

“this time.”

when the rest of the team finished running, one of you ordered pizza, and you all ate it next to the field.

nononono don’t- you took a bite of it, eyes nervously glancing around to see if anybody had noticed your struggle.

No one. Good.

after dinner, you took your time in the locker room, making sure that you were the last to leave. Before you left, you went into one of the bathroom stall and, as quietly as you could, rid your body of its dinner.

———

Nat’s pov:

through the rest of the week, Natasha noticed a change in you. You could never finish your laps before her, often ending last, you avoided everybody, and you always left last. She was beyond worried.

one night, she decided to stay late to see what was happening. She stood on the toilet seat of the far right stall, where no one ever went because of an unsavory amount of spiders, and peeked through the crack. She saw you step out of a shower and walk into a stall. Then, after a minute or two, she heard gagging noises.

Oh no. She realized what you were doing and the blood drained from her face. She rushed into your stall, which you had not bothered to close. Powerless to stop you, she kneeled behind you and hers your hair back, a hand on your shaking back.

Your pov:

this had become a routine. Soccer, dinner, food, purge. This Friday, as usual, you had done the regular pattern, and now you were here, bent over the toilet again.

a hand pulled your hair away from your face and then a matching one settled on your back. Who the fu- when you were done, you pulled your head away from the toilet shakily.

a pair of green eyes looked at you, forehead tight-knit with worry. Natasha grabbed a piece of toilet paper and wiped off your mouth. After that, you leaned against the side of the stall. Natasha did the same, wrapping her arm around your body, which was still shaking.

“so… you wanna tell me what’s going on?” Natasha asked.

“I… I did this a lot, back in middle school and high school. But my parents found out when I was fifteen, and they made me go to therapy. I got better. But now…”

“so… what happened?”

“Carol and Maria… you know how they kind of hit on everyone on the team?”

Natasha nodded.

“so…” your cheeks heated up from embarrassment and shame. “They made a comment about… me having more butt than I used to…” tears started to slip from your eyes, and you expected Natasha to walk away.

surprisingly, she did no such thing. She pulled you into her chest, where you sobbed unapologetically.

When you were done, you sat up straight again.

“I’m taking you out to dinner,” Natasha told you, “and you’re gonna stay with me the whole time after, okay?”

you nodded and stood up to wash your hands and rinse out your mouth. When you reached the sink, you rolled up your sleeves.

you heard a gasp from Natasha. She ran over to you and made you sit down on a bench by the lockers.

“are these new?!” She asked, gently holding your forearms in her soft hands. “Please, are you cutting yourself?” Her hands were shaking, as well as her voice.

“Don’t worry, Nat. I’m not cutting, I’ve been clean for two years now.” You hugged her.

“Okay… thank god… and I’m proud of you. For two years. My sister had a struggle with self harm, and… it was really bad, to see her like that.”

“I understand… I promise, Nat, I’ll try to get better.”

you washed your hands, picked a restaurant, and drove off in Natty’s car.

[d-romanov]

Do you do like self harm reader? Maybe wandanat are together and have adopted or just taken in a 16 year old 🤷‍♀️ idk am in one of those moods but I get if it makes you uncomfortable or triggers you or something!

Love your writing btw!

even when we're goin' under.

[ 1.2k words ]

[ natasha x teen!reader ]

summary: it's a bad habit, but it helped at first and now you can't stop. natasha offers comfort and understanding.

notes: hi! ty so much for the prompt 🫶 sorry i took so long to write it. this fic leans more towards vent fic and i definitely won't write things like this often. i switched it up a bit cause that's just how i wrote it. so, sorry no wandanat this time

TW!!: semi-graphic descriptions and discussion of self harm, past abuse (hydra/the red room it's vague)

this fic is heavy!! please don't read if you're triggered by self harm. stay safe and take care of yourselves ♥️

It started with an itch.

A small biting at the back of your neck, the sides of your arms, the inner sides of your thighs.

It wasn't a real itch, that you knew, but you were compelled to scratch anyways.

It always happened after a long day. The stress and overload of your senses would hit at the end of the day, and you felt like ripping your skin off.

The biting never went away. No matter how hard you scratched, your dull nails never did enough. A nervous habit of biting your nails left them too short to do any real damage to your skin, even when the itch felt bone deep.

There were other times it would start up again. After a particularly clear nightmare, a flashback to a kill you had no conscious part in. The guilt sunk your heart to your feet and filled your veins with poison. Burning and itching and begging to be released, begging for relief.

You found your relief, of all places, while cooking. A misguided blade chopping vegetables had nicked your hand, and in the bite of pain and rush of blood your skin stopped burning. You hadn't thought about it too hard in the moment, but when the itch returned later you finally had a way to get it out.

--

It went on for a few weeks. Far more than you intended.

It was a temporary solution, a quick fix. A messy fix that layered you skin with more scars than had already been there, but they felt better.

It was easier to reconcile to new marks on your flesh, because these came from you. Not a beating or a fight or experiment of any kind.

No. These new, thin, horizontal lines along your shoulders were purely your creation.

It was stupid. A terrible habit, bordering addiction because you just couldn't stop. Every time, that same burning itch came back, practically with a vengeance. A burning, blistering want to be released, for the guilt to be acknowledged, for some self punishment?

You no longer understood why it happened, just that it did and cutting yourself dulled the feeling and cleared your head.

--

You tried to hide it, for a while, but you were caught out eventually.

You didn't know what had changed, what part of you has suddenly raised alarm in Natasha's eye, but she was somehow even more perceptive than she usually was.

You'd always been close with the redhead, since the day you entered the tower. She got you through the hardest parts of adjusting, the loneliness of a widow adjusting to a semi-normal life. She cared for you like her own child.

So really, she'd be the first to notice your withdrawing. The baggier shirts with longer sleeves, the subtle hunch, the flinch when something grazed your shoulders. Of course she knew something was wrong.

--

It comes to a head one day. You've locked yourself in the bathroom after a nasty night terror left you panicking for the better part of an hour. Hastily cleaning and covering the new cuts on your arm. The sting of antiseptic grounds you and the smell of it drowns out the smell of iron.

You reach for your discarded hoodie when you hear a knock at your bedroom door. Your heart rate picks up.

The only person who would be at your door this early in the morning would be Natasha. The only person in the tower who's so in tune with your feelings well-being that she has to know what you've been doing almost daily for nearly 3 weeks.

"y/n? Honey, I need to talk to you."

A few more tries and your bedroom door opens. You quickly throw on your hoodie but you can't bring yourself to even unlock the bathroom door. Natasha is just outside. You hold your breath.

"y/n?"

"Yeah?" You ignore the croak in your voice.

"Can you open the door?" She asks softly.

You don't want to, but you're so tired of hurting. You shakily unlock the door and open it, not meeting her eyes. Unconsciously, you tug your hoodie sleeves over your hands.

Natasha doesn't say another word. She barely moves, she just breathes softly and keeps her body relaxed. You feel like crying.

You blink and traitorous tears escape your eyes. Natasha brings her hands up slowly and pulls you in. The rough feel of fabric pulls against the fresh cuts on your shoulder and you flinch as she pulls you in.

"Oh, детка."

Your breath hitches and you fall into her arms. She squeezes you tight to her chest while your body is wracked by silent sobs.

"I-, I'm sorry," You can barely get the words out, but you need her to know. You need her to know you wanted to stop and you couldn't because even when you felt better you still felt awful and it never helped. "I tried to stop. I-I wanted to-"

"I know, малыш, I know." She sits the two of you on the bed behind her, stroking your hair and never once letting go.

You just sit for a while. Natasha's solid form and gentle words of encouragement help to calm you down. Enough to pull back, wipe the snot and tears from your face and prepare yourself for her inevitable questions.

"Can I see?"

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. You hesitantly pull off your hoodie, and Natasha reaches out to help when the fabric catches uncomfortably on still-drying blood.

You feel exposed while Natasha moves to your bathroom. She comes back out with your first aid kit but you still refuse to meet her eyes.

You know what she sees. Angry lines of red, criss-crossing over old and new scars. In the back of your mind you hear a voice like Madame call you weak minded.

Broken.

With a tender hand, Natasha treats your self-inflicted wounds, cleans them softly and kisses each new bandage. She presses one final kiss, feather-light on your forehead. You let your tired body fall into her again.

"I know it feels good, in the moment," Her hands comb through your hair again, smoothing and braiding it mindlessly. "It doesn't really last though, does it?"

you shake your head, butting her chin lightly in the process.

"I can't ask you to stop, I know it doesn't work that way," You feel her take a deep breath and you copy the motion. "But will you tell me? The next time you feel the need?"

You shrug, because you truly don't know. "I'll try." It's as much a promise to her as it is to yourself.

It's really the best you can do, in the moment, and Natasha gladly accepts the answer.

Later, when you aren't so emotionally and physically drained, Natasha will sit you down again. She'll talk you into therapy, or at least to trying it out. She'll help you process your guilt, your grief, all with a steady hand holding your wrist. A promise not to let go.

But for now, Natasha pulls you under messy covers and holds you close, humming an old Russian lullaby as you settle against her.

As you drift off, you hear one more promise.

"I'm always here for you, y/n. I'm not going anywhere."

[dontsearchformyaccount]

She is the only thing keeping me alive right now and none even knows

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

We Are More Than the Choices We Made - Chapter One Pulled From the Web...

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> Clint Barton made a different call. Distrustful and suspicious of the people around her, Natasha begins to find herself settling into the Avengers team despeite herself, largely due to the influence of a highly persistent archer. But nothing in the Avengers' lives is ever simple and straightforward, and Loki is coming.

Or: Natasha finds a sanctuary, and Loki burns it down.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 3415

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (M) Distrust, automatic self-injury, trauma mentions, punishment mentions, implied eating disorder, implied abuse, attempted sex as payment/gratitude.

𝐀/𝐍 -> Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Please read the warnings, and proceed with caution. Check it out below, or on AO3 here!

The snazzy Black Widow divider comes from @/firefly-graphics and I love it <3 The Multitudes Universe one is our own!

- ‘Humiliation’ – @anyfandomgoesbingo (Kink); - ‘Non Consent’ – Any Fandom Goes Bingo (Dark); - ‘Organ Theft’ – @badthingshappenbingo; - ‘Bow and/or Shield’, ‘Bucky Barnes and/or Natasha Romanov’, ‘SHIELD and/or Carson’s Carnival’, ‘Solo and/or Team’, ‘Spy and/or Assassin’, ‘Vigilante and/or Agent’ – Clint Barton Celebration Bingo; - ‘Forced Surgery’ – @fandom-free-bingo (Flight); - ‘Made a Different Call’ – @hawkeyebingo; - ‘Found Family’, ‘The Friends Stage’ – @julybreakbingo (6x6); - ‘Bleeding Through Bandages or Arm in a Sling’, ‘Broken Rib(s) or Bludgeoned’, ‘Hiding or Invisible’, “What’s Wrong With You?” – July Break Bingo (7x7); - ‘Unwilling’, “Are You Really Just Gonna Walk Away?”  – July Break Bingo (Flash); - ‘Refusal’ – July Break Bingo (Mini);

I didn’t trust these people.

They clustered together, far too close, smiles too wide and voices too loud.

They are faking… Aren’t they? Nobody cares for each other this much – not really.

It had been several years since I’d be exposed to the façade of the perfect American family, but it seemed little had changed in my absence. They sill sat around the table together, pouring over shared dishes and laughing in unison, just as I was trained to do.

Automatically, I reached out, filling a serving spoon with salad and adding my own forced chuckles to the cacophony.

I knew I’d fucked up when every set of eyes around the table turned to me, and I winced instinctively, hand snaking up to wrap around my skinny bicep, fingernails carving chasms into the soft flesh hidden from view.

It took a few heartbeats for the group to look away – a few pounding, miserable heartbeats that made my stomach churn. Only the purple-clad archer kept his eyes on me, boring into the side of my head and making my skin prickle uncomfortably. “What?” I snapped eventually, not looking up as I speared a piece of cucumber violently on my fork, chewing 1234567 and swallowing without tasting.

“You don’t have to do that,” he replied eventually, his voice low. My gaze flicked to him at last, and he offered me a soft smile. “Put on a show, you know? You can be yourself here. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

I felt my expression flicker, surprised by my apparent transparency, before I arched an eyebrow coldly, inclining my head toward the animated gathering. “You think this isn’t pretending?” I scoffed, shaking my head. “The whole world’s a stage, after all…”

He looked around slowly, a soft smile tugging at his lips, a curious look on his face. “No… No, I think this is just about the only time that they’re not pretending. This is the only place we can be ourselves, away from the eyes of the world,” he replied quietly as he glanced back to me. “You’ll learn to relax in time, Natasha. You’re safe here.”

My eyes lowered, flitting between plates piles high with pasta and bread and buttered potatoes, and my own meagre salad.

No. No, I don’t think I am.

He’d been sent after me on a mission, handed down by SHIELD. He was supposed to kill me – eliminate the threat. He made a different call when he found me – a skinny rat of a girl that he felt pity for.

I had my own mission, too. Eliminate the threat.

But the opportunity for escape presented itself. The opportunity for freedom, for surcease from pain and torture.

The first thing that happened to me, after a flurry of talks and paperwork and being forced to make promises of good behaviour, was an examination. The dark-haired doctor, Banner, had a gentler touch than I was used to, fingertips light as he probed my bruised and broken ribs. I didn’t flinch as he felt his way along my fractures, giving nothing away, and his eyes flickered an ominous green as they shifted to mine.

He'd ssat me down afterwards, running through the list of things he’d deemed wrong with me. Along with a litany of scars and bruises, he held up x-rays that showed my entire body, pointing out old fractures that never healed right.

“Most of these don’t pose a significant problem, but I’m concerned about this wrist.” He gestured to the bones of my left arm, a ragged and poorly-fused line across the end of my radius dark in the brightness. “It must be painful, and that’s not to speak of the mechanical limitations.”

I’d winced and looked away, fingers curling around the permanently-aching joint beneath his desk. “It’s fine,” I lied, voice flat and emotionless.

“Well, either way – even if it doesn’t cause problems now, it certainly will later. I’d like to put you under so I can-”

“No,” I interrupted, a snarl creeping into my tone, eyes narrowing with suspicion. I’ve only been here for five minutes, and they think I’m stupid enough to let them perform surgery on me? My eyes closed briefly, flashes of blood and pain passing before my lids, and I swallowed hard before meeting his gaze once more. “No. No surgery.”

He’d simply watched me in silence for a moment, making a note on my chart. ��… You know it’s my duty to make sure that you-”

“I’m fit for whatever mission they want to send me on,” I snapped, jaw set, arms crossed across my chest. “I’m not letting you poke around inside me, and that’s that.”

Two weeks later, and here I was, shifting through a salad while they pretended to be happy. Pretended that they weren’t just as trapped as I had been, albeit in a nicer cage. The bowman’s eyes never strayed from me, drawing lines from my sparse portion to the curve of my ribcage hidden by second-hand clothes that hung too loose on my lithe frame. I couldn’t help but draw myself up taller, crossing my legs as I leant back, letting the witch’s skirt fall higher up my thighs, and smirked internally when I saw him gulp.

I know what I am.

I’d been seducing men since my Breaking, using body and skill to lure them in before taking them out. This archer was nothing special, and I could win him over just as easily. I stretched my arms high over my head, chest pressing against the button-down I wore, letting out a soft, sensual sigh as my gaze moved to his.

“See something you like?” I purred, looking up at him through my lashes as my body relaxed. His cheeks were pink, and he seemed unsure as to where he should look, fingers flexing uncertainly against his thigh.

“You wince.”

Surprised, I blinked, recoiling a little in my shock. “I… What?”

His face had already returned to its normal hue as he gestured at my arms now folded tight across my waist. “Your wrist. The one Bruce wanted to fix. Whenever you move it, you wince.”

My mouth moved wordlessly for a moment, stunned into silence, before my expression creased into a scowl as I recovered. “What’s your point?”

“Why won’t you let him fix it?” he asked softly, turning to face me more fully, pale eyes locked on mine in a manner so encompassing I found myself unable to look away. “He just wants to help.”

I snorted, one eyebrow arching. “Sure.”

Silently, he watched me for a moment, thoughtful. “… I don’t know much about where you came from,” he started eventually, head tipped to one side. “Nobody does. There’s rumours, but nothing concrete. But I have a faint idea of the sort of things you’ve been through, and I’m not surprised you don’t trust us. I hope you will, in time. We really do just want to help you.”

“Why?” I pressed, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Why do you care? You don’t know me. You don’t owe me anything.”

His brow creased in surprise. “You don’t have to matter to us on a personal level for us to want to help you, Natasha. You matter. You’re a person, and you deserve not to be in pain.” He offered me a soft smile, and I looked away from the pity in his eyes.

“… Fine,” I agreed at length, returning to stabbing my lunch vehemently, anger bubbling in my veins for reasons I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

It was in this way that I found myself sat on the edge of a medical bed in a gown that made me feel humiliatingly exposed.

“You’re not going to steal my kidneys or anything, are you?” I teased, my voice just a little too terse, treacherously betraying my anxieties.

Bruce’s eyes raised from where he was drawing on my arm, hazel gaze steady and warm. “I won’t make a single movement you haven’t agreed to.”

I nodded stiffly, watching through narrowed eyes as he continued his dotted lines. “… Why are you all like this?” I asked, the words coming soft and quiet despite myself.

He paused once more, but didn’t look up this time, contemplating the question silently. “… We have all done some terrible things,” he murmured after a moment, the hands on my skin gentle. “I suppose one could argue it’s penance. We help to heal the damage we’ve done.”

“What if there’s been too much?” I pressed. “What if I’ve hurt more people than I could ever save?”

“I don’t think that’s true of anyone,” he offered, tipping his head up to meet my gaze once more, the sincerity in his eyes startling me. “I need to believe it isn’t – or else more than one of us is irredeemable.”

I considered him for a moment – this kind, mild-mannered doctor carefully probing at my arm and determined to make me feel as safe as possible – then shook my head once. “I can’t imagine anything you’ve done could even come close to-”

“You have no idea who I am, do you?”

It wasn’t delivered as a threat, or arrogance; there was a degree of sadness to his tone that hit me square in the chest, breath catching as I shook my head. “No, I… I guess not.”

“I’m only Bruce to those who know me. The media tends to refer to me by a different name.” His eyes lowered, shameful but resigned. “Most people have only heard of the Hulk.”

I frowned for a moment, confused, before comprehension dawned. “The big green guy? That’s you?” I clarified incredulously, one eyebrow arching as he nodded. “But you’re… Not - I mean…”

He flashed me a weak smile, shrugging a shoulder. “I transform, in a way. It’s a long story involving a lot of quite interesting science and gamma radiation, but I’ll spare you the details. Suffice to say, I fell victim to my own hubris. And when I’m him, the green guy, I can’t… I can see it all happening, but I can’t do anything to stop it.”

Surprise flickered across my face, and I felt my own sympathetic smile form, slow and hesitant. “That sounds… Horrible,” I murmured, mind flashing through all the times my training had taken over while I screamed in the background – flashing through all the times before my training when I’d watched the people I cared about suffer, powerless to stop it. “It sounds like hell.”

He nodded once, sitting back in his seat. “It is. But doing this, just being a scientist, helping people… It goes some way to paying off my karmic debt, I think. I hope so, at least.”

My head cocked thoughtfully, assessing the man before me. “… I think so,” I agreed softly, nodding. He seemed too tortured by the things he’d done to be damned for them, after all.

It wasn’t his fault. He had no choice.

When I woke in an unfamiliar bed, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling through hazy eyes, dressed in an unfamiliar gown, my heart rate spiked and I struggled upright, my movements clumsy and sluggish. There were wires protruding from under my clothing, and a heavy cast encasing my left arm. The sight of the plaster calmed me, memories flooding back into my clouded mind. My gaze trailed along the edge of the bed and up the curve of my feet beneath the sheet, a frown creasing my forehead. I hadn’t any idea what I was searching for, only that I hadn’t found it yet.

A sound beside me startled me from my investigation, and I turned tooslownotfastenoughnotsafe, wide-eyed, toward it.

The archer was snoring in a chair beside my bed, his head back and jaw slack. My eyebrows rose in surprise, and I cleared my throat pointedly, biting back a laugh when he jerked awake. “You’re here,” I noted, my tone carefully neutral. He yawned and nodded, stretching his arms high overhead.

“Didn’t want you to wake up alone,” he grunted, pushing a hand through sleep-mussed hair. I hummed an acknowledgement, picking at the cotton appearing from the edge of the cast. My refusal to let him see how slow and lethargic I was had me sitting further upright, shaking my head to clear it.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I replied, the words coming harsher than I intended, but he simply shrugged.

“I know.”

My lips parted to tell him that he was free to leave, but the sound of the door opening interrupted me, muscles tensing. I relaxed infinitesimally as the doctor stepped inside, a gentle smile crossing his face. “Welcome back, Ms. Romanoff. Surgery went well.” He moved to the end of my bed, eyes assessing my expression carefully. “It’ll take a few weeks for you to recover, and it may take a little while for your grip strength to be back up to the standard you’re used to, but you’ll get there in time – better, most likely.”

I nodded once, my eyes still on the archer. “What do I have to do?” I asked automatically, unthinkingly, and Clint frowned.

“‘Do?’”

“For this,” I clarified, raising my encased arm and the wires hooked up to me. Clint’s eyebrows dropped further, confusion flickering across his expression.

“You don’t have to do anything. We told you… We just want to help.” He spoke softly, his tone sincere, but I snorted, my inhibitions lowered by the anaesthetic still coursing through my system.

“Is that why I’m in this little gown, hm?” I probed, my voice light and innocent as I pushed back the blankets to reveal my bare legs, marred with scars as they were. “Because I don’t have to do anything?”

Clint blushed heavily, averting his eyes, but Bruce moved closer, frowning. “It- It’s standard medical procedure, Natasha. We talked before your surgery, remember? If you had any concerns, I asked you to tell me… You seemed to consent quite readily.”

“Where does consent ever come into it?” I snapped back, jaw set. “Just do what you have to do, okay? I won’t fight. I’m too tired.” My body sank willingly back against the sheets, and I closed my eyes against the silence around me, resigned to my fate.

My body has always been used for payment. At least this time it’s benefited, too.

“Natasha… Nobody’s going to… We’re not…” Bruce’s stammer trailed off with a helpless sigh, and I winced at the sound of Clint getting to his feet, muscles stiffening pre-emptively.

His hand in mine startled me, surprisingly soft and gentle, and my lids snapped open once more in surprise. “What are you-”

“We didn’t do this for any form of payment, or gratitude, or quid pro quo,” Clint interrupted quietly, azure gaze locked on mine. “We did this because you were hurting, and you shouldn’t have been. Nobody here will ever expect that from you, Nat. Never.”

I watched him in silence for a moment, eyes narrowed as I assessed his open, honest face. “They don’t?”

He shook his head firmly, glancing at Bruce, who echoed a confirmation. “See? You’re safe here.”

The lump forming in my throat was beginning to make it difficult to speak, so I simply nodded, letting him pull the sheets back up until they sat around my waist, his other hand never leaving mine.

Bruce allowed me to head back to my room – third floor, two doors down from Clint and with an empty space either side of me – late in the evening, my bare feet padding almost noiselessly on the hard tile. I still couldn’t get used to having my own space; the only time I was alone at the Academy was when I was in Isolation. It was strange to try and sleep without the breathing, snoring and sounds of pain from a dozen other girls – to not wake to sobbing from a nightmare muffled by a thin blanket that did little to keep out the chill.

They never lasted long, those girls.

Widows don’t cry.

But now I had more space than I knew what to do with – and the permission to do with it as I wished. After two weeks it still sat exactly as I’d found it, the bed made with military precision and the dishes unused, with almost no sign of life save a pillow ferreted away from a sofa downstairs and hidden under the small table.

I liked it under there. The bed was too exposed, too open – there was too much to look for and too many places to guard at once. But under the table, the four chairs, carefully positioned, could act as a barricade in three directions, providing a moment’s warning against attack.

A moment can be the difference between life and death.

No sooner had I shut the door behind me lockedboltedchainedsafenotsafeneversafe than a soft rapping sounded on the wood, making me tense.

“FRIDAY?” I called uncertainly, still unused to speaking to the bodiless entity.

“Yes?” replied the dulcet tones, intended to be soothing – but I only found it creepy and unnatural.

“Who’s at my door?”

“Agent Barton, Ms. Romanoff.”

I blinked in surprise, turning back to stare at the wood hesitantly. The chain was still on as I cracked the door open, finding the pale blue staring back at me and accompanied by a soft smile. “Hey. Uh… I just wanted to see if you need anything. You know… Painkillers, or…”

“I’m good. Bruce has it handled,” I replied shortly, surprised and thrown off by his arrival. He nodded once, still hesitating at my door.

“Okay, I, uh… I guess I’ll leave you to it. Wake me if you need anything, yeah?” I nodded back, but still he didn’t move, his eyes flickering between my face and the room behind me. “How’s the room? Comfortable, or…?”

Another curt nod, flexing my fingers at the end of the cast. The sling was uncomfortable and disarming, and the longer Clint kept me talking, the longer it would be until I could disobey the doctor’s orders in private and remove it. “It’s fine.”

His head bobbed jerkily, and he stepped back, reluctance evident.

… Maybe I don’t owe him anything, but maybe he still expects…

I leant against the doorframe, head cocked, smiling softly. “Did you wanna come in, Barton?”

His eyes widened in something akin to alarm, and he swallowed. “I- Uh… I…”

“We can talk some more. Or we don’t have to talk at all, not if you don’t want to…” I added, peering up at him demurely through my lashes as I offered him my free hand.

His jaw twitched, and he took another, stumbling step back. “I-I should… I… I should get to bed. And you need your rest, too.”

I blinked in surprise, standing stiffly upright. “I- Oh. Sure.”

“Goodnight, Natasha.” He half-turned, and I baulked, brow furrowing.

“… Are you really just going to walk away?” I clarified incredulously, unimpeded arm curling protectively around my waist. Is it me? “What’s wrong with you?”  His eyebrow raised, and I scowled. “Nobody walks away.”

He shrugged a shoulder, offering me a weak smile. “I don’t want that,” he replied gently. “I just want to be your friend, Natasha.”

“But this is how it is,” I countered hotly, an edge of judgement creeping into my tone. “This is how it works. This is how good things happen, and how we avoid the worse things.”

His eyes softened as he considered me, head tipped slightly to one side, thoughtful. “… I can’t imagine what those worse things were,” he murmured, grimacing, “but I can promise that you never have to do anything you don’t want to in order to avoid punishment.”

My eyes narrowed, suspicious and uncertain, and I watched him for a moment, considering his open,  honest expression. “… Whatever you say,” I conceded eventually, stepping back into my room a little. His face lit up, and I scowled, unimpressed by the joy he found in the beginnings of my trust.

Why is he so eager for me to trust him?

“Goodnight, Nat,” he said again, more brightly this time, and I offered him a curt nod before I closed the door.

It wasn’t until I stood staring at the wood, processing what had transpired in the corridor, that his words sunk in, and I blinked in surprise.

He called me ‘Nat’. … He did that earlier, too.

… I’ve never had a nickname before.

[winters-hysteria]

do not read this if you are triggered by blood or suicide, ive been having issues lately and needed to vent-write

disclaimer: i love tony and all of the avengers and do not think he or they could ever be this mean but i needed to write something

tw: sh, suicide, bad parent, bad friends, steve is kind of a creep

my head hurt. bad. i walked out of my room and headed down the stairs in search of the tylenol, my gel knight encased in a plastic capsule. i paused, noticing that all of the avengers save sam and bucky were in the kitchen. i crept into the room quietly, hoping they wouldn't notice me, but i'm not exactly morgan. i'm tall. my dad's head whipped around. "what are you doing in here." i tried to swallow the dry lump in my throat as he glared at me. "just getting some water and tylenol. my head really hurts. i don't feel good." i wrung my hands behind my back so he wouldn't see, he didn't like it when i showed any feelings. "who's that tony?" i heard steve's voice float leeringly from his seat at the bar. "your daughter?" "actually, i'm--" "yeah, sadly. she's a worthless piece of shit. didn't really want her, but her mom dropped her off and here we are. she's really only useful for getting me things." tony replied casually. "dad!" i cried breathlessly, shocked at his nonchalance. i felt my eyes swim, the room becoming blurry as i angrily wiped the tears from my face. steve and nat snorted, clint turning away to hide the shaking of his shoulders. bruce was grinning widely as thor spoke to me. "aw, is the lady crying?" i looked at rhodey, wondering if even he hated me. the soft smirk on his face told me all i needed to know. "she looks so sad! tony, you should give her a hug!" nat said mockingly, sending the avengers into fits of giggles all over again. "you wanna know something i didn't?" i asked quietly. "sure, what is it? that the avengers could hate someone?" steve's eyes flicked over me, making me shift uncomfortably. "or that you're simply nothing to us?" bruce chimed in. i stayed silent for a few more seconds before i looked up at them. "when a heart breaks, it actually makes a sound." nat looked taken aback and tony looked mildly uncomfortable. i pulled off my sweatshirt, throwing it at him. "bury this with me, will you?" his eyes scanned me, amused. "this is your fault." i whispered, pointing at all of them. "you are the reason i died." they paused for a second, then started laughing. "you really think we're going to believe you? jeez tony, did your kid inherit any of the brain cells?" nat cried out. while they were all laughing at my expense, i left the room. i went downstairs, grabbing my shoes, my favorite leather jacket, and whisked out the door. i knew where i was going.

avengers pov: "wait. tony? where'd she go?" nat had been the first to stop laughing, now with a pit of anxiety brewing in her stomach. tony looked over at her, then the spot where his kid had been standing. "probably back up to her hermit hole. she rarely leaves it." he took another sip of the gin and tonic he'd mixed before glancing back over at her. "why so worried? weren't you just laughing at her threat?" nat shook her head, red hair bouncing. "but what if she was serious? tony, i know you dislike her but that's still your daughter." her leg was bouncing up and down, only to be calmed by bruce's gentle hand. "nat, leave it. it's nothing." suddenly, JARVIS sprung to life. "sir, i think there's something you may want to see." "throw it on the tv, JARVIS." tony replied to the AI. the tv in front of them sprang to life, showing the tracker he had on his kid. "she seems to be heading for the train tracks, sir." tony looked at the screen, confused. "let's go get her. it's probably nothing, but...yeah. it's probably nothing." the avengers grabbed their things and filed out the double doors.

your pov: this is it. this is the end. my end. i knew my dad didn't care enough, but to think the avengers, the heroes who protected this damn world, hated me too? it was too much to deal with. sighing, i pulled out the small switchblade i kept on my person at all times. flicking it open, i pressed the cool metal to my cheek and relaxed against the familiar feeling of the blade on my hot skin. i made a small incision on the side of my face, biting back tears at the burn it brought with it. all the sudden, i heard my name being called. well, not exactly my name, but i heard tony yelling, "kid! kid!" over and over again. i wanted them to watch. so i stood, facing the bright moon that lit up my soft skin, the harsh wind whipping my hair around. i gripped the knife, pressing it to my throat. i had one chance with this: i could leave and go with my father; or i could make him suffer with seeing the loss of his eldest daughter. either way, i was in a spot they definitely couldn't reach in time, even being the avengers. as i was about to make the cut, my dad stepped into the clearing, nat and clint at his sides, bruce, steve and thor standing behind them all. "kid? what are you doing all the way up there? get down, it's cold and i want to go home." i took a deep breath and shouted back over the wind. "i'm not coming home." "what do you mean you're not coming home? of course you are, let's go!" "i told you once, i can't do this again. i'm done dad. i am done." i held the blade up so they could see it shine in the moonlight. "i want to end it." my voice, strong and confident, cracked on the last syllable. "kid. stop playing games, it's not funny anymore." i could hear the panic in his voice, and i found a guilty pleasure in it. "no. you don't even know my name."

avengers pov: tony threw his hand out to stop clint from scaling the rocks and grabbing them. "you won't get to her in time." he stepped back, looking mildly upset. "well what do we do? she's not gonna come down!" he exclaimed angrily. "i'm gonna try and talk her down. if that doesn't work--" tony's breath caught in his throat as he saw the shine of the blade leave his field of view, most likely going for his kid's throat. "please don't!" he called out to her. "it's not...worth it?" he said, questioning his own sentence when he saw nat roll her eyes. "what? you try!" "gladly." she stepped forward. "hey, honey. please come down. we need you here with us." she pointed to tony. "how would you feel if you left your dad here all alone?" a chill went down nat's spine when she saw the smile that fell from their lips, dripping blood down the side of your face. "i'd feel amazing."

your pov: they couldn't possibly think that i'd listen to them after everything they'd done to me, could they? as i was contemplating it, i saw my dad usher clint forward out of the corner of my eye. the blade was to my throat and i had slashed it open no sooner than he'd taken four steps towards me. i heard a shriek as i fell, not sure if it was nat or possibly my dad. i let my body go limp as everything else went dark, i thought one thing before i hit the ground. "watch my heart break.."

avengers pov: tony tried sending clint while nat distracted her. it didn't work, since the second she saw him moving towards her, she'd slit open her throat and let herself fall down, trusting the wind to take her down safely. tony yelled at the same time nat did, knowing that she died before she hit the ground but also convinced that somehow yelling for her would somehow stop her from dying. he bolted towards her, racing to catch her before her body slammed into the earth. "nonononononononononono, pleaase no," he cried. "you can't leave, no!" his voice tapered into a whisper when he caught her, seeing all the blood spilling from the wound on her neck and staining his clothes. "oh my fuck. no." the rest of the avengers crowded around him, all of them in some state of disarray. "jesus tony." nat whispered. there was no response from stark. he simply curled himself around his daughter's body and cried harder than he ever had in his entire life.

[waltermis]

Ali’s speech made me cry 😭

Valedictorian

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Your daughter is the valedictorian of her class and the whole team and family watches her graduate

Note: I got this idea from going to so many graduations lately and of course I headcanon Nat and y/n’s kids as valedictorian level smart lol. Enjoy this fluff!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

“Natasha?” You try your best to get her attention. She’s staring off into space as she sits next you.

Her leg shakes with nervousness. You put a soft hand on her thigh.

“She’s going to do so great, my love,” you tell her.

Finally, she acknowledges you. It’s just with the slip of her hand in yours but it’s enough to know she’s okay.

You direct your attention back to the stage where the principal calls for the valedictorian to give the commencement speech. Your daughter stands up from her seat and walks to the stage.

There are hoops and hollers from your section, especially from the Avengers.

Ali starts out speaking somewhat quietly, but she gains her confidence quickly. Especially when she sees all the smiling faces of her family. She gives the usual thanks to her classmates and teachers. Her speech is so eloquently written that no matter what she’s saying tears are in your eyes.

“Here comes the part she didn’t show us,” Nat says barely above a whisper. Ali wanted to surprise you both with an extra part to her speech. You listen carefully as she speaks.

“Lastly, I’d like to thank my moms. I love you both as my little sister would say like the moon,” she says with a laugh. “There’s no way I would be here today without you.” She speaks about you first, sharing anecdotes of all the times you made her do her homework or drove her to basketball practice. And how she loves having your eyes and your soft heart. Tears run down your face.

“And a lot of you probably know my mama as the Black Widow,” Ali says. “But I know her as the most beautiful, loving woman in the world. A person who, as she’s done before, would run into a fight to save someone she’s never even met. A person who has put her whole heart into raising me alongside the love of her life.”

You hold Natasha’s hand and she squeezes it so tightly.

Ali continues, “Me and my siblings know that the Black Widow is a superhero, but to us she’s a hero named Mama. And she’s my hero because of the courage she shows everyday. The courage to love and to be loved. That’s something I wanted to share with you all. May we all have the courage to love and be loved as life takes us on this new path. Thank you.”

The crowd erupts into cheers and she even gets a standing ovation from her classmates and the crowd.

“She did great,” Steve comments from behind you.

“That’s our girl,” Natasha says, beaming with pride. The nervousness has been shaken off and she’s nothing but proud.

Ali walks back to her seat and your whole section waves at her. She waves back subtly.

The rest of the ceremony goes by quickly and Ali definitely has the loudest cheers when her name is called, partially due to Tony breaking the no air horns rule.

When you meet up with her afterwards, you both pull her into a hug.

“We’re so proud of you!” You say with her in your embrace.

“Thanks Mom,” she says. “How was the speech?”

“The best speech I’ve ever heard,” you answer.

“Did you cry?” She asks, a mischievous grin on her face.

Natasha finally cuts in, “I cried like a baby.”

You all share a chuckle and all the other kids join you. Ali hugs each one and you love watching them being so proud of their big sister.

Steve, Sam, Tony, Peter, and Pepper all hug her as well. Wanda is trudging behind with her boys, but she also hugs Ali so tight when she sees her.

“Gang is almost all here,” Natasha says. She turns to Ali. “You’re popular.”

“Can’t help that I’m the best,” the girl shrugs. “Did you hear from Aunt Yelena?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, baby. She’s still out on a mission,” Natasha answers.

“Is she?” You ask.

“What does that mean?” Nat asks you.

You smile and seemingly out of thin air Yelena appears next to Ali.

“So, what exactly is a valedictorian?” Yelena asks.

“Aunt Yelena!” The girl shouts and hugs her immediately. “How are you here?”

“Your mom,” Yelena gives her classic simple response.

“I made some calls,” you further explain.

“Thank you,” Natasha leans into you and says. You know she missed her sister too.

Yelena and Ali have gotten so close lately that you knew they would want to be able to celebrate this together. It wasn’t easy but you made it happen.

“I love you,” you tell Nat. You drop a kiss to her cheek and then gather everyone for photos.

The day is spent celebrating your daughter and being together as a family. It’s the perfect beginning of a new chapter and you know she’ll do great things.

[romugh]

IN HER REFLECTION- nerd!NR

pairing- nerd!natasha romanoff x reader

cw- 18+!!; top!reader, sub!bottom!natasha, fingering, mirror sex, liiiight choking, strap (n rcv), heavy praise kink!!, slight degradation if you squint i guess, natty in subspace!

wc- almost 10k of pure smut? sorry?

a/n- got inspired by a request! and then my brain did something weird and suddenly there's 7k words about natasha taking a strap, but that's not on me. not. on. me. blame the anon! (loved writing your request, feel free to send some more in x)

request- forcing nerdy!nat to look at herself on the mirror while you make her sit on your lap and finger her.

synopsis- natasha had been a brat, so you treat her like one, exploring her desires as she confronts herself in the mirror.

taglist- @esposadejoyhuerta, @lost-mortemanghel - comment or dm if you'd like to be added x

It wasn’t just today that had you on edge. Natasha had been bratting out in the most subtle, infuriating ways for days now, but today she had taken it to another level. She knew exactly how to toe the line—pretending to be her usual innocent, shy self—while leaving just enough doubt in your mind to make you question whether or not she was pushing you intentionally.

The text messages were what really started it.

You’d been in class, trying to focus on a lecture, when the first one came in. It was simple enough: “Hope your class is going well ;)”—completely harmless, right? But you couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to it, especially when you opened it and saw the little winking emoji she’d added at the end. That wink, so out of character for her, made you pause. You stared at your phone, trying to decide whether or not you were imagining things. Natasha didn’t usually send flirty texts, let alone ones with winking emojis.

You could already feel the flicker of heat in your chest, but you pushed it aside and ignored the message, hoping it was just an innocent mistake.

Except it didn’t stop there.

Three hours later, another text came through: “I keep thinking about you today. Can’t focus on anything else.”

And this time, it wasn’t so easy to brush off. Her words were vague enough to be taken as sweet, but your gut told you there was more to it. You could almost imagine her saying those words, the way her voice might sound just a little breathless as she admitted it.

By the third class, you were struggling to concentrate. The way Natasha kept popping into your mind, her texts leaving you on edge, had you feeling more than just a little distracted.

As soon as the lecture ended and you stepped out of the classroom, your phone rang. Natasha.

You picked up, trying to keep your voice casual. “Hey, Natty. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice soft and shy, but there was something else. A breathlessness. Like she was slightly out of breath. “I was just thinking about you.”

Again, it sounded innocent enough, but the timing, the tone… something about it felt deliberate.

You frowned, trying to make sense of it. "Are you sure you're okay? You’ve been really... attentive today."

“I just miss you,” she murmured, her voice carrying that same soft, almost innocent tone. But underneath it, you could sense that there was more she wasn’t saying.

There was a slight pause on the line, and for a moment, you thought you heard her inhale sharply, like she was trying to catch her breath. It made your pulse spike, sending a ripple of heat through you. You didn’t ask, but the thought crossed your mind—was she…?

No. Natasha was too innocent for that. You knew she wouldn’t touch herself without you.

Still, the way she’d sounded out of breath left you imagining all sorts of scenarios, ones you tried to push away as you focused on getting through the rest of the day.

By the time you got home, her teasing texts and those breathy phone calls had simmered inside you, leaving you wound tight. She was fully aware of her actions, even though she acted like she wasn’t. The winks, the subtle innuendos, the way she kept thinking about you and calling you after every class—it was all part of her game.

And now, here she was, sitting at your dining table, acting like the same sweet, innocent nerd who couldn’t possibly have done anything wrong. Her head tilted slightly as she studied you, still feigning innocence, but there was that glimmer in her eyes, that hint of mischief that sent a fresh surge of frustration through you.

“What’s wrong?” she asked again, her voice sweet but clearly baiting you, her lips curling into the faintest smirk. “Did I do something?”

You exhaled sharply, narrowing your eyes at her. “Don’t play dumb, Natty. You know exactly what you’ve been doing all day.”

She blinked up at you, a blush warming her cheeks, but she didn’t deny it. Instead, she held your gaze, biting her lip as if struggling to suppress a smile, that bratty confidence shining through.

You moved closer, standing directly in front of her now, crossing your arms as you stared down at her. “The texts, the calls… were you just trying to mess with me?”

Her breath hitched slightly, the blush spreading across her cheeks. “I-I wasn’t trying to—”

“Don’t lie,” you interrupted, your tone firm. You leaned in, placing your hands on the arms of her chair, caging her in. “You’ve been bratting out all day, trying to get a reaction. Haven’t you?”

Her eyes widened for a moment, her bravado faltering just slightly. But then, after a beat of silence, she bit her lip and nodded.

“Maybe a little,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the admission was clear.

You could feel your pulse quicken, the tension between you crackling like electricity. You knew she was doing this on purpose, trying to push your buttons, trying to test you. But now? Now she was going to find out exactly what happens when she pushes too far.

“You like pushing me, don’t you?” you asked, your voice low and dangerous, watching as her blush deepened even further.

Natasha squirmed slightly in her seat, clearly flustered, but she didn’t look away. “I-I like it when you… when you pay attention to me,” she admitted softly, her voice filled with nervousness and excitement.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a smirk. “Oh, you have my attention, alright.” You let your hand move to her chin, tilting her head up so she was forced to keep looking at you. “But if you want to keep bratting out, then you’d better be ready to handle what comes next.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her wide eyes locking onto yours. You could see the anticipation swirling there, her nervousness mixing with anticipation as she realised what was about to happen.

“Stand up,” you commanded, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Natasha quickly obeyed, her body trembling slightly as she rose to her feet, her gaze never leaving yours. You could see the flush creeping down her neck, and you knew that under her composed exterior, she was just as affected as you were.

You moved behind her, placing your hands on her shoulders and guiding her toward the mirror on the far wall of the room. She looked confused for a moment, but she didn’t resist.

You positioned her in front of the mirror, your body pressing close to hers from behind, your hands slowly sliding down her arms as you leaned in close to her ear.

“Look at yourself, Natty,” you whispered, your voice low and commanding. “Look at how flushed you are. How much you’ve been teasing me today.”

Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, her eyes fixed on her reflection as you stood behind her, the tension between you thick in the air. She could see it herself too now—the bratty smirk gone, replaced with the vulnerable, needy expression you knew she’d been hiding all day.

“You think you’re so innocent,” you murmured, your hands moving down to rest on her hips. “But you’re not. You’ve been begging for this all day.”

Natasha let out a shaky breath, her eyes flickering between the mirror and the floor, her body trembling under your touch.

“I… I didn’t mean to—”

“Oh, but you did,” you interrupted, your tone soft but firm. “And now, you’re going to take the consequences.” -

You sit on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror in your bedroom with Natasha in your lap. Her back is resting against your front, her body snug against yours. She’s still wearing her panties and your oversized shirt—one she had been using as pyjamas, soft and far too big for her. The image of her in it, slightly dishevelled, only adds to the intimacy of the moment.

She had undressed you earlier, her hands tentative but eager, slowly pulling off each piece of clothing until you were left bare. Her fingers had lingered on your skin, tracing over your chest, arms, and thighs with a delicate touch, as if still unsure of her own boldness. Now, the warmth of her bare back pressing against your chest feels both grounding and electrifying.

The oversized shirt hangs loosely off her shoulders, the fabric falling down past her thighs, barely covering anything. Her skin glows in the dim light of the room, and the way her chest rises and falls with each shallow breath betrays the nerves bubbling inside her. You can feel her heartbeat thudding softly against your chest, her anticipation palpable.

With one hand resting on her waist, you reach for the hem of the shirt. Your fingers brush lightly against her skin, and you feel the shiver that runs down her spine. "Let’s get rid of this," you murmur softly into her ear. She tenses for a moment, but she doesn’t object, only nodding slightly in agreement.

You tug the shirt upwards, brushing it over her shoulders and guiding her arms out of the sleeves. Her skin is warm beneath your touch, and when the shirt is finally discarded, it leaves her sitting there in nothing but her panties, vulnerable and exposed in the dim light of the room.

The soft blush on her cheeks deepens, her eyes glancing away from the mirror in front of you as she tries to hide her embarrassment. But there’s no hiding now—not when you’re both like this.

"Look at yourself," you say gently, your voice soft but firm. Your fingers lift her chin, tilting her head slightly so she’s forced to meet her own reflection in the mirror. Her wide eyes flicker nervously, trying to focus on anything but the image staring back at her. But you don’t let her turn away.

"Look at how beautiful you are," you continue, your hand sliding down her bare stomach, feeling the soft skin beneath your fingertips. She trembles slightly, her body pressing further into you for comfort. The sight of her like this—vulnerable, unsure, and so soft—makes your heart ache with affection.

Her breathing hitches as your hand travels lower, tracing over the waistband of her panties. She’s already wet—you can feel it through the fabric—and the knowledge sends a thrill down your spine. You slide your hand under the waistband, teasing her with the lightest of touches.

"You’re already so wet for me," you murmur, pressing a finger against her slick entrance. Natasha gasps softly, her body jerking in your lap. Her hips shift instinctively, trying to push against your hand, but you hold her steady.

"Keep looking," you remind her, tilting her chin up again as you tear her panties away with a swift motion, leaving her exposed to the mirror. "I want you to watch every second."

Her breath comes in soft, shaky pants as you slide a single finger inside her. Her walls flutter around you, the slick heat welcoming your touch, but she’s so tight, so sensitive. She bites her lip, trying to stifle the whimper that escapes her, but you catch it anyway.

"Tell me how it feels," you coax her gently, your lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

"It feels… good," she whispers, her voice trembling. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes half-lidded as she watches the reflection of herself in your lap, back pressed against you, utterly at your mercy. She’s barely holding on to her own control, the sensation already overwhelming her.

You add another finger, stretching her slightly, and her body tenses. She lets out a soft moan, her head falling back against your shoulder as you continue to move inside her. The wet sounds of your fingers sliding in and out of her fill the room, and her reflection shudders at the sound. Her hips rock involuntarily against your hand, desperate for more friction.

"Look at yourself," you whisper again, your voice a mix of command and praise. "Look at how beautiful you are when you’re falling apart so fast."

Natasha’s eyes flutter open, her gaze locking onto the reflection, and the sight makes her blush even deeper. She watches herself being fingered, cheeks flushed, lips parted as soft gasps fall from her mouth. She’s trembling in your lap already, her hips moving slightly, but she’s still shy, still struggling to meet her own gaze.

"Don’t hide from me," you murmur, curling your fingers inside her, causing her to whimper. "I want to see you, hear you. I want you to see yourself."

Her chest rises sharply as the pleasure builds, and her body reacts to every small movement of your hand. The intensity of it is written all over her face—her soft moans, the way her legs tremble in your lap, the way she tries so hard to maintain her composure but can’t.

You pick up the pace, curling your fingers just right, and Natasha’s breath hitches. Her hips jerk forward, her body writhing as the pleasure starts to take over. She’s close now, her walls tightening around your fingers, her moans growing louder as her body shudders in your arms.

"That’s it," you praise softly. "You’re doing so well."

It doesn’t take long before Natasha falls apart completely. Her orgasm hits her in waves, her body trembling violently as she gasps for air, her reflection a beautiful, trembling mess. Her walls clamp down on your fingers, and she lets out a loud moan, unable to hold back any longer. You keep your pace steady, letting her ride out the full extent of her climax.

"Good girl," you whisper, kissing her temple as she leans back against you, her body spent. "You’re so perfect."

For a moment, you think she might be done, her breathing heavy and her body limp against yours. But then, she surprises you.

"I want more," she whispers breathlessly, her voice barely audible. There’s a neediness to her tone, a desperation for something deeper, more intense.

You pull your fingers out slowly, watching as her body twitches at the sudden emptiness. She’s still trembling, her slick heat clinging to your fingers. "Are you sure?" you ask, your voice gentle but firm, wanting to be absolutely certain.

Natasha nods, biting her lip as she gazes at you in the mirror, cheeks flushed and eyes still glassy from her orgasm. You position three fingers at her entrance, and her breath catches in her throat. She’s never taken that much before, and the nervousness is evident in her expression. But she trusts you—completely.

With slow, deliberate movements, you push three fingers inside her, feeling the stretch and the tightness as she struggles to take all of you. Natasha lets out a sharp gasp, her body tensing, but you’re patient, whispering soothing words of encouragement into her ear.

"Just breathe," you murmur, one hand resting on her waist to ground her. "You’re doing so well, Natty."

Gradually, her body adjusts to the stretch, and the burn begins to melt into pleasure. She’s panting now, her walls fluttering around your fingers as she finally takes all three. Her hips begin to move again, her body seeking out the pleasure despite the overwhelming sensation of being stretched so deliciously. The sensation is intoxicating, and she could easily get addicted to it—the way her pussy clenches around you, taking you in, while she watches herself in the mirror, captivated by the sight.

"That’s it," you praise, your voice low and soothing as you curl your fingers inside her. Natasha’s moans grow louder, her hips rocking against your hand as she loses herself in the pleasure, her reflection shaking and flushed with arousal.

Natasha’s hips move restlessly, grinding down onto your hand as her breath comes in shallow gasps. Her body feels like it’s on fire—every nerve alight with the intense pleasure that your fingers are pulling from her. She’s still trembling, her chest rising and falling erratically as she fights to stay grounded, but it’s slipping away from her with every passing second.

The mirror reflects everything—her flushed face, the way her thighs quiver, craving more of you, even though there’s nothing more to take. Her body tightens and relaxes, caught in a desperate struggle to maintain control over herself. But she’s slipping. She’s losing herself in you, in the way you fill her completely, in the overwhelming need that her body can’t seem to satiate.

Her thoughts blur, everything hazy and distant except for the overwhelming need that pulses through her. There’s no space for anything but the intense sensations, the pleasure so deep and raw it’s almost painful. Her mind can’t focus on anything but the feel of your fingers inside her, the way they stretch her, fill her, the pressure growing until it’s too much.

“I-I can’t—" Natasha gasps, her voice trembling as she tries to form a coherent sentence, but she can’t finish it. Her head falls back against your shoulder, her eyes slipping shut as her body jerks again, a sharp moan escaping her lips.

"You can," you murmur softly, your free hand sliding up to caress her thigh, your voice gentle yet firm. "You’re doing so well, Natty. Just breathe. Let go. I’ve got you."

Her breath catches at your words, the praise hitting her in a way that makes her twitch even more. It’s as if every word of encouragement digs deeper into her mind, making her desperate to please you. She wants to take more, to be good for you, to show you just how much she can handle, how much she needs you.

Her hips jerk forward again, her body trying to pull you even deeper, but it’s still not enough. It’s never enough.

"I want to... please you," Natasha whispers, her voice breathy and weak, barely audible above her own moans. Her fingers clench at the sheets, her body trembling uncontrollably as she rocks back against you, but she’s so far gone that she’s not even sure of what she’s asking anymore.

"You are pleasing me," you whisper, lips brushing against the soft skin of her neck. "You’re perfect, princess. You’re everything I want."

Her breath hitches, her heart pounding as she hears your words, and she can’t help the soft whimper that escapes her. The praise makes her head spin, makes her want more, makes her want to be everything for you.

As you worked her open, the world around you faded into a blur. Natasha’s breathy whimpers filled the space between you, mixing with the steady rhythm of your fingers. The burn and stretch she felt was becoming a delicious ache, one that ignited something deeper within her.

“Just a little more,” you coaxed, your voice a low murmur as you continued to move inside her. “You’re doing so well, Natty.” The praise slipped from your lips like honey, sweet and thick, wrapping around her as she began to surrender to the sensations.

With a deep inhale, Natasha’s eyes fluttered closed, and for a moment, the tension in her body dissolved completely. She began to rock her hips, slowly at first, testing the waters, but soon it transformed into something more urgent, more desperate. You could feel the weight of her trust, a gift that was both intoxicating and thrilling.

Then, without warning, she surprised you. Natasha shifted her weight, driving your fingers deeper inside her as she began to ride them, her movements instinctive, almost primal. The way her body responded to you was mesmerising. Each rise and fall was a dance, her movements fluid and graceful, yet filled with an undeniable hunger.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, utterly captivated by the sight before you. The way she looked, the way she felt—it was overwhelming. The flush of her cheeks deepened, a beautiful shade of crimson, contrasting against the gentle curves of her body. Her eyes, once filled with uncertainty, now sparkled with a wild abandon that made your heart race.

With every thrust of her hips, you could feel the warmth of her surrounding your fingers, enveloping them in a slick, delicious heat. The way she took you deeper, riding your fingers like she was trying to chase down that elusive high—it sent a surge of primal instinct through you. You wanted to guide her, to push her further, but she was taking the lead, and you were powerless to stop it.

“Natasha,” you murmured, your voice thick with desire. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

At your words, her eyes snapped open, locking onto yours in the mirror. There was a glint of something—was it pure submission?—in her gaze that sent a shiver down your spine. She looked so captivating, the way her body moved in tandem with your fingers, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, the soft swell visible through her shirt. You could feel your pulse quicken, blood rushing to your ears as the sight of her lost in pleasure ignited a fire within you.

“Does it feel good?” you asked, wanting to hear her voice, to feel her pleasure wrap around you like a warm embrace.

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice a breathless whisper. “So good.”

You could see the way her body tensed, the slight tremors that coursed through her as she adjusted to the rhythm. The way she leaned backward, pressing her back into your front, gave you an even better view of your fingers disappearing into her. Her sweat clung to her skin, highlighting the curves you wanted to worship.

“Just like that, Natty. You’re perfect.”

Her breath hitched at your words, and she pushed her hips down harder, eager to feel you filling her. Each time your fingers brushed against that sweet spot deep inside her, she gasped, the sound filled with pure ecstasy. The way she rode you, her body moving with both urgency and grace, was hypnotising. She wanted more, her mind hazy from the pleasure, she needed more.

“Look at yourself,” you urged, your voice low and sultry. “Look at how you’re losing yourself in this. How beautiful you are.”

As she gazed into the mirror, you saw a flicker of vulnerability, mixed with a newfound confidence. The tension in her body began to shift, the way she moved becoming more fluid, more assured. The flush on her cheeks deepened, and her mouth fell open in a long moan, the sound reverberating in the silence of the room.

“I—oh God,” she stuttered, her body beginning to tremble as you curled your fingers, hitting that sweet spot again and again. “I can’t… Please–I need more.”

“It’s  okay,” you reassured her, your voice steady, not knowing just how serious she was. “Just let go. Trust me, Natty.”

And as if your words had cast a spell, she surrendered completely. You could see it in her eyes—the moment she slipped into subspace. The tension that had held her so tightly began to unravel, the trust she placed in you lifting her higher than she’s ever been before.

“Please,” she begged, her voice thick with need. “I want more.”

You felt a surge of pride, knowing that you were the one to take her there, to help her explore these depths. “You want more, huh?” you teased lightly, relishing in the power dynamic that flowed between you.

“Yes,” she gasped, her hips working furiously against your hand, every movement driven by instinct. The way her body tightened around you, her walls squeezing your fingers, made your breath hitch in your throat.

“Such a good girl for me,” you praised, watching as her eyes fluttered closed once more, a blissful expression painting her features. The way she was losing herself, riding your fingers with reckless abandon, filled you with an overwhelming need to see her reach her peak.

“Keep going, Natty. I want to see you come undone,” you encouraged, your voice dropping to a low, sultry whisper that wrapped around her like a warm blanket.

With each thrust, you felt her teetering on the edge, her body trembling with pleasure. “I’m so close,” she panted, her voice shaking with need.

“Let go for me,” you urged, your fingers never faltering, coaxing her closer to that precipice. “You can do it. I’m right here.”

In that moment, you felt her walls tighten one last time, her body quaking as she finally surrendered to the waves of pleasure crashing over her. “I—oh God!” she cried, the sound filled with pure bliss as she fell over the edge.

As her orgasm washed over her, you could see the way her body tensed and relaxed, the euphoric release igniting every nerve ending. You held her tightly, guiding her through it, feeling every pulse, every quiver as she rode out the waves of ecstasy.

Natasha was deep in subspace, the remnants of her first orgasm still coursing through her like a gentle wave. Her breaths were slow and steady, but the way she clung to you—her fingers gripping your arms tightly—betrayed the excitement bubbling beneath her surface. She was in a world all her own, a place where she felt safe, vulnerable, and strangely empowered.

You watched her through the mirror, captivated by the way her expression shifted from blissful surrender to a shy longing. Her cheeks were still flushed, and her eyes sparkled with something you recognized as desire, but there was a hesitation there, too. It was a mix of trust and uncertainty, and it only made you want her more.

“Can I…?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with a shy eagerness. “Can I have your cock?”

The request sent a thrill through you. “You want my strap?” you asked, your voice low and teasing. You were ready to give her anything, but you wanted to draw out the moment, to enjoy this shift in power dynamics.

“Y-Yeah,” she stammered, biting her lip, her innocence suddenly seeming more pronounced in the heat of the moment. “Please?”

You nodded, a grin spreading across your face. “Alright. Just let me choose one for you.” You reached for the drawer to your left, excitement bubbling in your chest as you pulled out various options. As you displayed them, you couldn’t help but notice the way Natasha’s eyes widened and her breath quickened.

But when you picked up one of the smaller straps, she shook her head vigorously. “No! I want the biggest one.”

Your brows shot up in surprise. “The biggest one? Are you sure about that?” You hadn’t even used it before—it was something your friends had gifted you as a joke, but here was Natasha, deep in subspace and adamant about wanting it.

“I’m sure,” she insisted, her voice a mixture of shyness and determination, almost as if she was testing the boundaries of her own desires. The way she bit her lip again, uncertainty creeping into her gaze, made your heart race. “Please.”

You couldn’t resist her. There was something so endearing about her shy insistence, her innocence shining through even as she pushed her own limits. “Alright, then. It’s in the other drawer, baby. But you have to promise me you’ll tell me if it’s too much.”

“Promise,” she replied, her gaze unwavering, the trust in her eyes melting any reservations you had.

With a nod, she hopped off your lap, her legs slightly wobbly but her determination shining through. She moved to the drawer, reaching inside to retrieve the oversized strap. You couldn’t help but admire the way she handled it, her shyness somehow making her seem even more alluring.

When she returned, her cheeks were bright red, and her hands trembled slightly as she held the strap. “I want it,” she stated, her voice firm but still laced with a hint of innocence. You could see how deep into the mindset she was, yet her shyness made this moment feel even more intimate.

“Alright, sweetheart,” you said softly, your voice reassuring as you got up. “But let’s take it slow. I want you to enjoy every moment.”

After you had stepped into the harness and adjusted the 12-inch strap, you moved toward the bed, but Natasha lingered behind, not immediately following. Her blush deepened as she stood by the mirror, her gaze falling shyly before she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, “Can you... take me where I can see myself?”

Her words caught you off guard, but the longing in her eyes made your chest tighten. “Are you sure?” you asked softly, needing to ensure she was comfortable with what she was asking.

She nodded, her eyes flicking between you and the mirror. “I’m sure,” she breathed, her lips parting with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

You smiled, nodding as you guided her back to your previous position. Natasha settled onto your lap again, shifting just a bit higher onto your abs, her back pressed against your chest while the strap nestled against her stomach. The strap was secured snugly to your hips, its impressive length and girth nearly brushing her navel when she sat up straight. The sight alone made your pulse quicken, but you couldn’t help but wonder if she’d be able to take it all.

You rested your hands on her waist, offering a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go slow, okay?” you murmured, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

She bit her lip nervously, her eyes wide with both eagerness and hesitation as she moved up, situated herself and began to lower herself back down. The tip of the strap nudged against her entrance, and she let out a soft gasp, her thighs trembling with the effort.

“Relax, Nat,” you whispered, guiding her down slowly. “Breathe.”

She nodded, exhaling shakily as she sank down a little more, the stretch becoming apparent as she took in the first few inches. Her brow furrowed, her body tensing as she tried to adjust to the sensation. “It’s... it’s so big,” she stammered, her voice laced with both excitement and uncertainty.

“I know, sweetheart,” you reassured her, your hands steady on her waist. “You don’t have to take it all at once. Just take what you can.”

Natasha’s breath hitched as she lowered herself a bit more, her body stretching around the strap. The burn of the stretch was evident in the way her thighs quivered and her soft whimpers filled the air. She could barely take a quarter of it, and even then, she paused, her chest heaving with effort. The sheer girth of the strap made it appear enormous, and you were astonished she was able to take this much of you.

“You’re doing so well, Natty,” you praised, your voice gentle but filled with pride. “You don’t have to rush. You’re perfect like this.”

She exhaled slowly, nodding as she leaned back against you. “It feels... different,” she murmured, her hands gripping your arms for support. “But I like it. I just... I want to take more.”

Your breath caught at her words. “You will,” you said softly, brushing your lips against her shoulder. “But let’s go at your pace.”

For a few moments, she stayed there, hovering on the strap, her body adjusting to the stretch. The sight of her reflection in the mirror—her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, the way her body clung to the strap—was almost too much to handle. But you stayed focused, rubbing gentle circles into her hips to keep her grounded.

Then, as if something shifted in her, Natasha began to move again, slowly lowering herself down further. Inch by inch, she took more of you, her body trembling with the effort but her determination unwavering. You could feel her pulse around you, the heat of her arousal making every movement slicker, easier. Still, she hadn’t taken it all—just over halfway—and the sight of the strap glistening as it nestled within her was mesmerising. The sight of her slick coating the parts she hadn’t taken yet had you hypnotised, utterly drunk on desire.

“I... I can feel it,” she whimpered, her voice breathy and thick with pleasure. “I think I can take more.”

“You’re doing so well,” you murmured against her ear, your hands holding her steady as she tried to sink lower. “Just like that, Natty. You’re amazing.”

Time seemed to blur as she kept moving, her breath ragged, her movements tentative but eager. And then, after a while, you realised Natasha had been taking more and more of you. Your eyes flicked to the mirror, watching in awe as the strap slowly disappeared into her, the stretch making her body quiver with every inch.

She still hadn’t taken it all—just a quarter left—but the sight of her reflection, of how much of you was inside her, made your control slip.

“God, look at you,” you breathed, unable to hold back. Your hands slid from her waist, moving upwards to cup her breasts, kneading them gently as she moaned under your touch. “You’re so beautiful, Natty. Taking me so well.”

Her breath hitched as you massaged her breasts, her nipples hardening against your palms. “I... I’m trying so hard,” she whimpered, her voice breaking. “I want to take it all... I want to please you.”

“You are,” you reassured her, your fingers teasing her nipples as you pressed your hips up slightly, deepening the stretch. “You’re doing so good, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

Her eyes fluttered shut, her body melting into your touch. She leaned back into your chest, her head resting on your shoulder as she focused on the sensation of you filling her up. The praise made her moan, her thighs shaking as she tried to sink down even further.

“Just a little more,” you coaxed, your voice husky. “You’ve got this. You’re perfect.”

Your gaze wandered back to the mirror, entranced by the image of Natasha’s flushed, needy expression and the reflection of your bodies joined together. But then something else caught your eye—a bulge pressing against her lower stomach. It was the outline of the strap inside her, stretching her so much that it was visible through her skin.

The sight made your breath catch, something primal snapping inside you. You hadn’t even realised how far you’d pushed her, how deep the strap had gone until you saw that bulge—and it ignited a fire in you that was impossible to contain.

Your grip on her breasts tightened momentarily, then slid down to her waist again. Natasha let out a soft gasp of confusion as your hands left her chest, only to clamp down firmly on her hips, pulling her down onto you in one swift, overwhelming motion.

Her eyes flew open, a sharp cry escaping her lips as her body was forced to take the rest of the strap all at once. The sheer girth stretched her impossibly wide, her thighs trembling violently as you thrust your hips up at the same time, slamming the last bit deep into her core.

“Fuck,” you groaned, the word dripping with unrestrained lust as you felt the full weight of Natasha's body sink down onto you. The strap filled her completely, the bulge in her stomach more pronounced now as you both struggled to breathe, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

“I-I can feel it,” Natasha whimpered, her voice trembling as she struggled to catch her breath. “I can feel all of you.”

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you whispered, your voice rough with desire. “Look at you... taking all of me.”

Natasha's head was against your shoulder, her eyes wide and unfocused as her entire body shook from the overwhelming sensation. She’d never felt this full before; the sensation made her feel like she was on the verge of breaking—and yet, the pleasure was undeniable. She loved it. The overwhelming stretch, the sheer size of the strap filled her in ways she’d never experienced. Her thighs shook violently, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps, and then you saw it—tears.

Her eyes, already glassy with pleasure, began to well as she lifted herself up and then sank fully back onto you. The tears spilled over, streaming down her flushed cheeks, her lips parted as soft, broken whimpers escaped her. She was so deep into subspace, so lost in the haze of sensation and submission that her body didn’t know how to react. All she could do was feel.

You watched her, completely captivated by the sight of her like this—so vulnerable, so beautiful, her skin glistening with sweat, her cheeks stained with tears. It made your heart ache with an almost possessive kind of affection.

“There you go,” you whispered, your voice low and tender as your hands moved from her waist to cup her cheeks, gently wiping away her tears with your fingers while using the reflection as a guide. “You’re doing so well, baby. Look at you, taking it all. You’re perfect.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to comprehend your words. The praise washed over her like a warm blanket, pulling her deeper into that fuzzy, blissed-out space. But the tears didn’t stop. If anything, they flowed even more freely now, her lips quivering as she let out another soft sob.

“Too much?” you asked, though you knew from the way her body clung to yours, the way she kept sinking down further and further, that she wasn’t going to stop. “Or do you like it, hmm? You like being so full of me?”

Her response was almost incoherent, a soft whimper and a nod, her head lolling against your shoulder as she tried to gather herself. The praise was affecting her so deeply, every word sinking into her foggy brain and amplifying the pleasure until she didn’t know what to do with herself.

But then you leaned closer, your lips brushing against her ear, and you let your voice dip into something more commanding, more degrading.

“Look at you,” you murmured, your tone taking on a sharper edge. “Crying just because you’re so full. You’re such a pretty little thing, aren’t you? You can barely handle it, and yet here you are... taking all of me like a good girl.”

Natasha whimpered again, her entire body flushing deep red as the words cut through the haze in her mind. She didn’t fully understand them—her brain was too fuzzy, too far gone—but the tone, the way you said it, made her blush even harder. It was a mix of praise and something else, something darker, and it sent shivers down her spine.

“I... I’m trying,” she mumbled, her voice shaky, her lips trembling. “I’m trying so hard to be good.”

“You are good,” you reassured her, your hands moving back to her waist again, gripping her firmly as you pulled her down onto the strap again. “You’re so fucking good, Nat. So perfect for me. Taking it all like such a good girl.”

Her breath hitched as you moved her, her body too weak to resist, too deep in the pleasure to even think of stopping you. Her mind was spinning, her body trembling, and the tears kept flowing. She didn’t even know why she was crying anymore. Maybe it was the overwhelming sensation of being filled so completely, or maybe it was the praise that made her heart ache with need.

“You’re so beautiful,” you continued, your voice softer now as you kissed the side of her neck, your hands still guiding her hips. “So beautiful when you cry for me.”

The tears kept coming, her body shaking with quiet sobs, but her hips kept moving, kept following your lead as you pushed her down again and again. She didn’t stop, didn’t want to stop. The pain and pleasure mixed together, a heady cocktail of sensations that had her spiralling deeper into submission.

“I don’t know if you can take me much longer,” you teased, your lips brushing against her ear as you spoke. “But you want to, don’t you? You want to be good for me.”

Natasha could barely form a response now, her head spinning with the intensity of it all. She nodded, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and need, her brain too fuzzy to process everything. But she knew one thing for certain: she wanted to make you happy. She wanted to please you, even if it meant pushing herself to the edge of her limits, even further than now.

“Yes,” she whimpered, her voice barely a whisper, her head falling back against your shoulder. “I want to... I want to make you happy.”

“You are,” you murmured, your tone laced with approval as you squeezed her waist, your eyes glued to her reflection in the mirror. “You’re making me so happy, sweet angel. Look at yourself. Look how good you’re doing.”

Her gaze flicked to the mirror, and she moaned at the sight. The strap pushed deep inside her, creating a visible bulge in her stomach that moved with each thrust. Her skin was flushed, hair damp with sweat, and her cheeks streaked with tears. She looked completely wrecked—and yet, so incredibly beautiful.

“You see that?” you asked, your voice thick with lust as your hands slid up her stomach, pressing down on the bulge gently. “Look how full you are, baby. You’re so perfect like this.”

The praise, the sensation, everything was too much for her. Natasha’s mind was a blur of pleasure and pain, her body stretched beyond what she thought she could take, and yet she wanted more. She needed more. Even if her body was trembling, even if the tears wouldn’t stop, she needed to make you proud.

“I’m... I’m so full,” she whimpered, her hands resting right above yours on her lower stomach, feeling the bulge there, her face bright red as she looked at herself in the mirror. “It’s so much...”

“You can take it,” you growled, your hands moving from her waist to her breasts, massaging them roughly as you thrust your hips up again. “You’ve already taken all of me, Nat. You’re doing so good. So fucking good.”

The praise hit her like a tidal wave, making her moan as her body convulsed in your lap. She was too far gone to even process the words properly, her brain fuzzy and overwhelmed, but she nodded anyway, tears still streaming down her cheeks as she whispered, “Thank you...”

“Such a good girl,” you purred, your hands squeezing her breasts as your lips brushed against her ear again. “You love this, don’t you? Being full, being praised... You’re perfect, Nat. Absolutely perfect.”

Her body trembled at the words, her eyes fluttering shut as she let out a soft, broken sob. She didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to process all the feelings swirling inside her, but one thing stayed clear in her mind—she wanted to make you proud. She needed to. And she would.

Natasha’s body shuddered violently, her breath hitching in sharp, desperate gasps as she tried to stay grounded. But you could feel the way she was clenching around you, her inner muscles spasming uncontrollably as her body teetered on the edge.

You shifted your hips upward, thrusting the strap even deeper inside her. The rough movement sent a jolt through her entire body, and that was it—Natasha couldn’t hold on any longer. Her third orgasm ripped through her with devastating force, her legs trembling uncontrollably as she let out a loud, broken moan, her body convulsing in your lap.

“There it is,” you murmured, your voice thick with satisfaction as your hands tightened on her waist. “That’s it, Nat. You feel so good when you come for me.”

Natasha’s head lolled back against your shoulder, her body sagging against yours as she came hard, her walls tightening around the strap, her muscles clenching and releasing in frantic waves. Her hands scrabbled for purchase, one gripping your thigh while the other pressed against the mirror as if trying to steady herself, but she couldn’t. She was completely lost in it.

The tears that were already spilling down her cheeks came faster now, mingling with the sweat that coated her skin, her lips trembling as sobs of pleasure wracked her body. She was overwhelmed, her mind completely submerged in the sensation, but even through the haze of subspace, she kept moving—kept riding your strap, desperate to please you, desperate to be good.

“There you go,” you whispered, guiding her gently as she shook in your lap. “Just let go. I’ve got you.”

The praise sent another wave of pleasure crashing through her, and she moaned, her body responding without thought, without control. Her hips bucked, the muscles in her thighs spasming as her fourth orgasm hit her before she had fully come down from the previous one. It was too much. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t stop her body from convulsing as she rode out the wave after wave of pleasure that seemed to keep rolling through her.

“Oh god, oh god,” Natasha gasped, her voice barely audible between her sobs. “I can’t... I can’t stop...”

“You don’t need to stop,” you reassured her, your voice low and soothing even as your hands gripped her tighter, pulling her back onto your strap as she tried to squirm away from the overwhelming sensation. “You’re doing so good, baby. You’re perfect.”

Her sobs turned to wails, absolute filth escaping her mouth, her entire body trembling as her next orgasm crashed into her like a tidal wave. She couldn’t hold herself together anymore, her body completely out of her control. Her hips jerked, moving on instinct as she ground down against you, her walls squeezing the strap so tightly that you could feel the tension all the way through your core.

The sight of her in the mirror drove you wild—the way her stomach bulged from the size of the strap, her breasts bouncing with each desperate movement, and the tears that continued to spill down her cheeks. She looked utterly destroyed, so beautifully wrecked, her skin flushed and glistening, her lips parted as broken moans and whimpers slipped from her mouth.

“Fuck, look at you,” you growled, your hands exploring every inch of her skin, fingers digging into her softness as you continued to thrust deeper with increasing force. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Nat. You’re so full.”

Natasha just whimpered, her breath hitching as her body responded to your rougher touch. She was so deep in subspace now, so far gone, that she couldn’t even register the words you were saying, but she could feel them—the way they made her body react, the way her muscles tightened and trembled under your hands. She nodded, her head falling forward, her eyes glassy and distant as she let out another soft sob.

“I... I want to be good,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath as she tried to steady herself. “I want... I want to make you happy.”

“You are good,” you whispered back, your voice a mix of praise and possessiveness as you kept pulling her down harder onto the strap. “You’re fucking perfect, Nat. You’re making me so proud.”

The praise sent another wave of pleasure crashing through her, and suddenly, Natasha was coming again—her body convulsing in your lap as her next orgasm hit her with even more intensity than the last. Her hands pressed against the mirror, her palms flat against the glass as she sobbed, her entire body trembling uncontrollably.

“You’re doing so good,” you murmured, your hands sliding up from her waist to her breasts again, squeezing them as she convulsed in your lap. “Look at you. Look at how beautiful you are when you come.”

Natasha’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze fixing on the mirror, and the sight of herself—flushed, sweaty, tear-streaked, and utterly wrecked—sent another shudder through her. She moaned, her hips jerking as her body tried to keep up with the pleasure, her mind too fuzzy to process it all.

“I... I still can’t stop,” she whimpered, her voice thick with need. “It’s too much...”

“I know, baby,” you cooed, your voice dripping with approval as you massaged her breasts, your thumbs brushing over her nipples. “You’re doing so good. Just let go. Let me take care of you.”

Her body obeyed without question, her hips moving on their own as she sank down onto the strap again, her walls clenching around it as another orgasm built inside her. She was completely lost to it now, her mind a haze of pleasure and submission, her body trembling as she came again and again, each orgasm rolling into the next until she didn’t know where one ended and the other began.

“Such a good girl,” you murmured, your hands sliding down to her waist again as you thrust up into her with more force. “You’re taking me so well, Nat. You’re perfect.”

Natasha’s response was a soft, broken sob, her body collapsing against you as the pleasure overwhelmed her completely. She was gone, completely lost in subspace, her mind a blur of sensations and praise, and all she could do was ride it out, her body trembling in your lap as you guided her through each wave of pleasure.

Natasha’s body continued to tremble against yours, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps, her chest heaving with the effort. The storm of pleasure was still coursing through her, but her hips had stilled, no longer able to move after the relentless waves of orgasms that had wracked her body.

You could feel the twitching of her muscles, the way her body clenched around the strap still buried deep inside her, but she wasn’t grinding and you weren’t thrusting anymore. She was utterly spent, her head resting against your shoulder, her tears still trickling down her flushed cheeks as she tried to catch her breath.

Gently, you loosened your grip on her waist, moving your hands with deliberate care as you wrapped your arms around her trembling form. Natasha whimpered softly as you pulled her close, her body still so sensitive, every slight movement sending aftershocks rippling through her.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, your voice soft and soothing now, a stark contrast to the intensity that had filled the air just moments before. “You did so good, Natty baby. Just breathe.”

Natasha’s body relaxed a little in your hold, though she was still shaking, her limbs twitching with the lingering ecstasy that coursed through her. She made a small, broken sound—half a sob, half a whimper—as her body gave in fully, collapsing against you, completely spent. You cradled her carefully, holding her close, one hand stroking her arm while the other stayed on her breast, grounding her in your touch.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered again, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “You’re safe. You’re perfect.”

She let out a shaky breath, her head lolling to the side as her eyes fluttered closed, her mind still foggy from the intensity of everything. You could feel the way her heartbeat was gradually slowing, the frantic rhythm calming as you continued to hold her, shushing her softly, letting her know she wasn’t alone in this vulnerable moment.

Your hand on her breast moved gently, tracing soft circles around her nipple, a grounding sensation to remind her she was safe in your arms. Her body twitched under your touch, her chest still heaving, but she didn’t try to move away. She stayed nestled against you, letting the warmth of your embrace calm her.

“You’re okay, Natty,” you murmured softly, your lips brushing against her ear. “Just stay with me. I’ve got you.”

She nodded weakly, her body sagging further into your lap, her legs spread open as she remained impaled on the strap. It was a quiet, intimate moment now—no longer about the intensity of lust but about something deeper, more tender. Her body was twitching from the aftershocks, the occasional clench around the strap still reminding you of how deep you were inside her, but she wasn’t trying to take more. She was just… being.

Natasha let out another shaky breath, her fingers gripping your arm as if to anchor herself. The tears that had been flowing earlier were slowing, but her face remained wet, her cheeks flushed and streaked with saltwater. You watched her closely in the mirror, your gaze softening as you took in the sight of her—completely vulnerable, completely yours.

“There you go,” you whispered, brushing your thumb gently across her cheek, wiping away the remnants of her tears. “You’re so beautiful, Natty. So perfect.”

She whimpered softly at the praise, her eyes fluttering open for just a moment before they closed again. Her breathing was slowly evening out, the shaky gasps becoming steadier as you held her close, your hands moving in gentle, soothing motions. You could feel her muscles slowly unclenching, her body relaxing into you, no longer overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure.

“It’s okay now,” you whispered, resting your chin on her shoulder as you held her tighter. “Just breathe with me.”

You stayed like that for a while, the two of you wrapped in each other, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your quiet breaths and the faint hum of the world outside. The strap was still inside her, but it was a comfort—something grounding for her as she came down from the high of subspace.

Natasha’s body, though still trembling, seemed to relax even further, her head turning slightly as she nestled into your neck. She was quiet now, her soft whimpers replaced with gentle sighs, her body twitching occasionally but no longer driven by the need to move. She was content to just be held, to let you take care of her.

You pressed another soft kiss to her hair, your hands still stroking her arms and chest, reminding her that you were there—that you had her.

“You’re so good for me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible now, a quiet affirmation that she didn’t need to do anything more. “So perfect, Nat. I’m so proud of you.”

Her response was a quiet, barely-there hum, her body settling even more as she melted into your embrace. The tension was gone now, replaced with a soft, languid peace that settled over both of you. You could feel the steady rhythm of her breathing, the way her back moved against yours, and it grounded you just as much as it did her.

You cradled Natasha in your arms for what felt like forever, the quiet comfort between you speaking louder than any words. She was completely limp, her body heavy against yours, her breaths soft and steady now.

After a while, you pressed a soft kiss to her temple and whispered gently, “I should clean you up, baby. Let me run you a bath.”

Natasha hummed in disagreement, her head shaking slightly as she leaned further into you, her eyes still closed. She wasn’t ready to move, wasn’t ready to let go of the feeling of you inside her, keeping her grounded and safe. You smiled softly at her stubbornness, her bratty behaviour making you shake your head in amusement. The bulge in her stomach, still there and almost casual now, was like a silent reminder that this wasn’t the last time something like this would happen whenever she decided to brat out.

You chuckled again, warmth spreading through your chest. She was so beautiful, so perfect, and you loved her even more in these quiet, vulnerable moments.

“Alright, alright,” you murmured, running your hand gently along her side, “we’ll stay here for a bit longer. But when you’re ready, I’m cleaning you up.”

Natasha didn’t respond, just snuggled deeper into you, her body still. Her face was completely relaxed, her lips parted slightly as she rested against you, lost in the lingering haze of subspace. You held her close, stroking her arm softly as you watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, content to stay like this for as long as she needed.

It was about ten minutes later when you felt her stir. A faint wince crossed her face as she shifted in your lap, her muscles clearly starting to ache after the intense session. She let out a small, pained whimper, her brow furrowing as she tried to move slightly, the soreness settling in.

You kissed her head gently, your voice soft and reassuring. “Ready for that bath now?”

This time, she didn’t protest. She nodded weakly, her eyes still closed but her body slowly coming back to her as she let out a quiet, “Mhm.”

You helped her sit up, your hands gentle as you guided her, though even the small movement made her wince again. As Natasha began to lift herself off the strap, you couldn’t help but groan at the sight. She was slightly gaping, her body clearly feeling the aftereffects of the stretch, and the sight was enough to make your stomach twist with desire all over again.

Natasha blushed deeply, her cheeks flushed a soft pink as she noticed your reaction. You saw her glance in the mirror, catching the way her body looked before quickly averting her gaze, embarrassed but unable to hide the small, sheepish smile playing on her lips.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmured, your voice a little rough from the sight of her. Natasha’s blush deepened, and she looked away again, biting her lip in that shy, adorable way she did when she was overwhelmed with praise.

You discarded the toy to the side, knowing you’d deal with it later. Right now, Natasha was your priority, and aftercare was the only thing on your mind.

“Come here, Nat,” you whispered, helping her to her feet and wrapping an arm around her waist to support her. She wobbled slightly, her legs weak from the intensity of everything, but you held her steady, guiding her slowly toward the bathroom.

Once you had the bath running, you sat her down on the edge of the tub, kneeling in front of her as you gently cleaned her up, wiping away the remnants of the session with a soft, damp cloth. Natasha was quiet, her eyes half-lidded as she watched you with a tired, hazy gaze, her body still relaxed in the warmth of your presence.

“You’re doing so good,” you murmured as you cleaned her, your hands gentle and careful. “I’m so proud of you, Nat.”

She let out a soft hum in response, her cheeks still a little pink from earlier, but she didn’t try to speak. She was too exhausted, too deep in the afterglow to do anything but watch you with that sleepy, content look on her face.

Once the bath was ready, you helped her into the warm water, holding her hand as she slowly sank into the tub, a sigh of relief escaping her lips as the heat soothed her aching muscles. You stayed by her side, your fingers tracing soft patterns along her arm, watching as she closed her eyes and leaned back against the edge of the tub.

“Are you feeling better?” you asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Natasha nodded, her lips curving into a small, tired smile. “Mhm,” she mumbled, her voice soft but hoarse from all the moaning and gasping earlier.

You chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. “Good.”

For the next while, you stayed with her, washing her hair gently, your hands careful as you massaged her scalp, the soothing motions helping to relax her even more. Natasha let out quiet, contented sighs every now and then, her body completely at ease in your care.

When the bath was over, you wrapped her in a soft towel, drying her off gently before helping her into a comfortable, oversized shirt. She was still quiet, her movements slow and sleepy, but she leaned into your touch every chance she got, seeking out your warmth and comfort.

You led her back to the bedroom, guiding her under the covers before climbing in beside her. As soon as you settled in, Natasha curled into your side, her head resting on your chest, her arms wrapping around you as she let out a soft, contented sigh.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the gratitude in her tone was clear.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around her and holding her close. “Always, Natty,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. “I’ll always take care of you.”

She hummed softly in response, already drifting off to sleep in your arms, her body finally fully at peace.

a/n- i need to start writing shorter fics oh my god. thanks for reading!

[a-spes]

| DEVIOUS LIES — Part two (8.790 words).

| Summary — Anon Request — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It has been two years, and you can't stop think about what you lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.

| Tags & warnings — Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader, AoS!OC x Avenger!Reader, Other Avengers, angst without comfort, cheating, mental health issues, suicidal ideations, self depreciation, mentions of SA&SH, manipulation, toxic relationship (OCxR), revenge porn, use of drugs.

| Author's notes — I don't know how I feel about that second part, i'm not sure i like it, but now it's written it costs me nothing to share. So here we are. I can just hope that I managed to convey, at least a little, the emotions I wanted to. And, most importantly, take care of yourself.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).

Almost a year has gone by, and it means one thing: in a few weeks, it’s going to be Natasha's birthday, again. The woman is not sure how she feels about it. She never really had a birthday before she joined the Avengers, and despite the years that have passed since, she still feels a certain awkwardness at this time of the year. Especially as the boys tended to do too much.

She could only pretend to match their enthusiasm. A slight smile spreads across her face as she takes a sip from her drink, staying silent. She has been listening to her teammates talking about her birthday’s party for almost half an hour now. She stopped trying to avoid it a long time ago, when she realized how much they enjoyed organizing this stupid party. She can deal with anything they’re going to come up with if she gets to see their smiles in exchange. Her sentence won’t last more than a few hours, but the memories are going to stick with them for eternity, and it has no price.

"Wait, you know what?” someone asked. It was Clint, and by the mischievous smile on his face, the redhead already knew that she wouldn't appreciate the next words that are going to come out of his mouth. “I think we should have the mascot come over again," he added, his eyes not leaving hers. "What? It was funny to have a cartoon version of you running around," he defended himself when he saw her glance darkening.

"You know what? Do whatever you want," she mumbled, “it’s not as if you were asking for my opinion anyway,” she eventually gave in. Sometimes, you have to know how to pick your battles, and that is one she definitely cannot win, not when all the others seem to appreciate the idea.

"That’s such a great idea!” one exclaimed, and this time it was Peter Parker, “Mr. Stark, do you think they would accept to come again?” he asked the man.

"Obviously!" Tony replied without an ounce of hesitation, laughing at the question. The man thought it was a stupid thing to ask, "she likes you too much to miss your birthday,” he explained, pointing at the redhead while saying those words. "What? She pretends it’s not true, but I know she is lying. I can see right through her and, believe me, she’ll be here,"  he explained when he noticed the confused looks of his teammates.

"Who’s she?" a voice asked, cutting short to Tony’s rambling. That’s the question that has been on everyone’s minds, but that no one dared to ask out loud, except for one of them — And it hasn’t been Natasha, it is Steve that spoke first.

On the contrary, the woman remained silent because she didn’t need words to express herself, a silent conversation taking place between the billionaire and her through a simple glance. Even if she already has her suspicions, and is almost sure that she knows the answer to that question, she wants him to say it, refusing to believe it otherwise.

The moment she saw the box, she was intrigued by it, something drawing the woman to the small package that no one claimed as theirs. It’s almost as if it came out of nowhere, no one knowing who left it here, or what may be inside the black box. At first, she thought it was some joke, but she knew they were being honest when saying they had nothing to do with the gift. And if she had expected a lot of things to be wrapped in the red ribbon, she definitely wasn’t ready for a ghost from her past to emerge from it.

A quick glance before she suddenly closes the box again, that’s all it took for the redhead to know who was behind that gift. The only thing she could think about was how — How did it happen without any of them noticing your presence? Despite the appearances, and the smile she was trying to keep on, the woman was shaken — Why would you do that, more than two years after your break up? Could it be that you are that desperate?

"Is everything okay?" Clint asked, being the only one to seem to notice a change in Natasha’s behavior. At least, everyone had enough restraint to not ask the question that burns their lips — What’s inside the box?

She wouldn’t have answered if one of them had asked. She wouldn’t even have opened the gift if she had known that it was from you, and that’s probably why you left it on the table, avoiding giving it to her directly. Smart girl, she thought. At first sight, the woman couldn’t tell it was coming from you but there was no doubt remaining once she saw the content — There is only one person on Earth that cares enough to give her such a gift. A person that constantly looks after her, guessing what the redhead wasn’t telling.

A person that she used to love. 

A person that couldn’t be here, was she? The woman can’t help but glance around but she can’t find your face. What was she expecting anyway? To see you in the corner of the room with a bright smile and your arms open for her to throw herself in a hug? That was stupid, and so is the hint of hope she felt when she opened the box. The others told her many times she has to turn the page, but she doesn’t seem ready to let you go. Even after two years, she is still craving your presence as much as before.

The thought of it puts to shame the redhead who knows she shouldn’t hold on to the past, especially when the past in question has a pretty face and breaks her heart. Even after what you’ve done to her, she has spent hours crying, praying for you to come back. Even after listening to the others assuring her that she deserves better, she couldn’t forget how you’ve always been the most caring, and strong, and beautiful person she has ever met in her life. 

You weren’t horrible. Were you? 

Sometimes, she thinks you are a monster. 

Sometimes, she thinks she is, for not listening to you that day. 

That day, she let her anger speak for her, something she swore she would never do again. When she started to realize that, maybe, she should’ve listened to your version of the events, it was too late. At the time, she couldn’t bear to hear the sound of your voice or see your voice, but after two years, as the memory of it starts to fade away, she surprised herself to miss it. 

Except that Fury had refused to tell her where you were. She tried to ask nicely, to beg, and even to threaten the man, but none of it worked. He said that you needed time, that you’ll be back when you are ready, not before. Despite her frustration, the woman accepted it. After all, she is the one to blame, the one that puts herself in such a situation. She could only hold on to the fact that, one day, you’ll be back. Right? As the days go by, the likelihood of ever seeing you again is gradually diminishing. Some nights, when she can’t sleep, she stays up, eyes fixed on her laptop’s screen — Maybe she could give fate a helping hand? She knows she could find you easily. Yet, despite her urge to do it, she has always ended up closing her laptop without starting the research. 

She has to trust Fury, she repeats to herself. Even if she sometimes disagrees with the man, even if it’s frustrating, she has to believe him when he says that you are safe.

Some other nights, all she can feel is anger, and hatred. The redhead is lost, and scared, again, something she never thought she would feel again the day you two met. What if it was true, and you really cheated on her? Then, you could do it again if she forgives you, because history always repeats itself, and you are no exception to the rules of the universe. She knows how people tend to promise a lot of things that they don’t mean, especially when they are desperate, which is exactly what you’ve been that day. She couldn’t forget the look on your face when she dragged you out of the building, the despair in those bright eyes, glistening with tears. This is the only thing she can remember when she thinks about you. Not the good moments you’ve shared, only the brutality of the end of your relationship. 

You've abandoned her, and so did she.

It has been three since she last saw you, and almost a year since her birthday party, but the woman couldn’t stop thinking about it. She didn’t take the gift, leaving the jewelry in the box, and the box on a shelf. She hasn't touched it since. How could she when just the sight of it was already too much to bear?

Every day, when she wakes up, it is one of the first things she sees, and one of the last when she goes to sleep. If it doesn’t feel right to the woman to take the gift, it doesn’t feel right to throw it in the bin either, so it stayed here as a constant reminder of what she has done. Every time she thinks she is finally over it, the box rekindles her doubts. There are some things she can’t quite understand about the situation, and why you would give her such a gift, two years after she kicked you out, is one of them.

Maybe it was a poisoned gift. Maybe it was a sick trick to make her feel guilty, a way to get her to crawl back to you. Beside these possibilities, she couldn’t think of any others that were likely, and she was afraid to admit that your plan was working. The box was a permanent reminder of your existence, something she couldn’t get herself to give away because of those dumb feelings she was experiencing. Somehow, she was holding on to that last piece of your years together after she threw away everything else with the help of the team.

The pictures, the clothes, the gifts, even your favorite cutlery has been burned a few days after you left them. It is almost as if you’ve never stepped a foot into the building, as if you’ve never existed. The woman was fine with the idea of pretending that nothing happened — She was fine with the idea of erasing every remaining part of your relationship.

Except that black box. It is stupid how she hangs onto that last proof of the relationship she once had with you. She had burned everything, but she couldn’t get herself to do the same with that gift. Maybe because she knew that she could never erase you completely from her life. She surely could pretend, it is a game she is really good at, but you would always be on the back of her mind because memories don't go away as easily as objects do.

Since she had opened the box, doubt had been creeping inside of her — What if? What if she has been wrong the whole time? What if she should have listened to you? Give you a second chance? That day, her reaction had been dictated by anger and hatred, feelings that still inhabit her soul, but have faded over the years. For two years, she had been sure that she made the right choice — At least, that’s what everyone kept telling the woman, and she listened to their comforting words.

But since she opened the box, she was no longer sure of anything. She wasn’t the one that wanted you gone in the first place. She surely needed a bit of space before being able to talk with you properly, but only a few days, maybe a few weeks, not two years, and definitely not more than that. That little box only worsened her doubt because who would be desperate enough to still cling to the person they betrayed, years after the events? A person truly in love. She had kept her doubts for herself before that day. If she is almost sure of the identity of the person who gave her the box, because there is only one person on that planet that cares enough to gift her something so meaningful, there are still a lot of questions to which she doesn’t have the answers — For example, how did you manage to sneak into the building without everyone knowing? She now knows that someone knew the whole time.

“Tell me,” she firmly asked the man, leaving little room for discussion.

No one pointed out the thing he has said about the mascot, the subject of the conversation quickly changed after that. Except, while they were talking about which flavor the cake should be, Natasha could think of nothing but Tony’s words — “She likes you too much to miss your birthday”, “she pretends it’s not true but I know she is lying.” So when everyone eventually decided to go back to their rooms, around two in the morning, she stayed a bit longer in the common room in hope of getting some information.

“Sorryy, I can’t, I don’t know anything,” the man replied, indifferent to her tone, “anything at all,” he repeated, chuckling like a child who has done something wrong. 

The woman sighs, pinching her nose as she takes a deep breath, trying to not lash out her frustration on the man. The conversation isn’t exactly going the way she had hoped, Tony refusing to answer her question no matter how many times she has already asked. She even tried to blackmail him, but he was persistent in pretending that he didn’t know anything. When he almost falls on the ground trying to get a few steps back, it has been the last straw for the woman. Gladly, someone entered the room before she could hit him so hard that it would have sobered him in an instant.

"Is everything okay?" the voice asked, and both of them immediately shut up to turn their heads toward the woman who just entered the room, Astrid. She is leaning in the doorway, her gaze alternating between Tony and Natasha.

She hates her. Not as much as she hates you, but she still feels resentful toward the agent. When she smiles, when she speaks, even when she is just here, existing, the woman can’t help but hate her from the depths of her heart. Gladly, she rarely sees her, as an agent of the S.H.I.E.L.D., she is only around when they have outstanding missions. If Natasha had a choice, she would’ve thrown her away with you that day. 

"She wants me to admit that her girlfriend was the one in the costume," he immediately replied, "but sshht, we can’t let her know that!" he added, holding his index finger in front of his mouth for a few seconds before leaving the room giggling. 

"I know what happened," she eventually said when she noticed that Natasha was about to leave after a few seconds when they glanced at each other in silence. "Th- That night, in the motel room~," she added, her voice being hesitant. Those words made the redhead stop in her tracks.

"If you're about to rub in my face how you've ruined my life, you can shut up," she immediately cut her, not wanting to listen to the woman, not if it’s to tell her about how she fucked the woman she loves. Her voice was full of anger, just like the murderous look in her eyes. The only thing that prevented the woman from immediately leaving the room was the thing she saw in the other’s eyes. Her attitude betrayed her emotions, a mix of guilt, sadness, and shame, which aroused her curiosity. 

With a nod, she ordered her to continue.

That morning, as many others, you are woken up by your girlfriend’s gentle touches, her fingers slowly tracing circles on your stomach. A hum of satisfaction escapes your lips before your turn around, nuzzling your head further into the crook of her neck.

How could you have known it would be the last time? How could you have possibly guessed that the routine you’ve got used to would be broken so quickly?

Every morning, it is the same thing, and while the former spy has no problems getting up early, you definitely can’t say the same for yourself. She is always awake before you are and, even if she had never admitted it, you are sure that she takes a few minutes to observe your sleeping form. She loves seeing you so peaceful and calm, being able to have a glimpse of your face without those worry lines, without the marks of your anxieties. 

She is always the one who wakes you up, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. There is no better way to start a day than Natasha’s sweet words and caresses. It’s her fault if you never want to get out of bed, wishing every morning that you could stay in that bed, next to her, for the rest of your life. Sometimes, you suggest that you tell the others you are sick, just to spend a day together, but she just laughs, dismissing your idea.

But all the good things must come to an end, right?

"It's time to get up, milaya," she softly said in your ear, her breath tickling your skin, "Astrid won't be happy if you are late again," she added when the only answer you gave her was a groan of discontent.

"They won't say anything if I am late once, it's okay", you mumbled, her words not being enough to convince you to leave the comfort of her arms. 

Especially when you realize that there is nothing to get excited about the day ahead of you, in perspective, only hours spent in an office, listening to men who think they know everything better than you do. Today, you are supposed to attend an important meeting alongside Astrid, and you still don’t know why you volunteered. The thought of the paperwork and the efforts that you will have to put in pretending that you are actually happy to be here definitely don’t worth your pay.

Except that you’ve lied to Natasha, and she knows it. This is definitely not the first time that you are being late, it happens almost every day, to the point that the day you are in time can probably be counted on your hands. Gladly, when you are coming in the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters, it's Astrid who’s your supervisor, and she appears to also be your best friend. Most of the time, she is kind enough to accept to close her eyes on your delays. Today, you came in only ten minutes late, and the woman was somehow impressed, expecting you to be later than that.

“You’re late, again,” she replied, obviously waiting for an excuse that you don't have. She would know if you are lying to her, and you don't have the energy for that kind of game today, and you could see that the woman neither. She was starting to get tired of every day starting with the same bullshit coming from your mouth.

“I am so, so, sorry,” you said to her for what may be the tenth time since you’ve entered the office. She is walking fast, and you are trying to catch up with the black-haired woman, who is also your superior within the S.H.I.E.L.D. “Please, don’t tell Fury,” you begged, but all she did was roll her eyes, and give you a file when you eventually reached her office. You quickly glanced at it before closing it again, your attention focused on the woman, “Astrid, I am serious. He is going to give me more paperwork if you do. Or worse. Imagine if he forces me to train the new recruits, you know I can’t do that again. Please, …,” you added, looking at her imploringly.

“And what do I have in exchange?” she sighed, turning around to look at you, one eyebrow raised. Despite her serious expression, you know she was trying to not laugh. She may be your boss, but above all she is your friend, and you both know that she would never tell Fury about your delays. Even if she has threatened you to do so a few times in the past, she has never actually done it. Yet, this time she felt like she needed something in exchange, she had covered for you enough time for free, and you were happy to thank your friend with whatever she may want.

“Anything you want!” you replied, desperate but no less honest. 

“Tonight, after work, you pay me a drink, deal?” she asked after pretending to think for a few seconds. In reality, she already knew what she wanted from you. She has thought about asking you out since the moment you met, something you’ve never noticed, always reducing her to the role of a friend, and not keeping up on the clues she was leaving you. Tonight, however, she will be clearer than she has ever been.

“Deal!” you immediately said, accepting the proposal without thinking twice about it. "Thank you. Thank you so, so much. You are the best," you added, kissing your friend on the cheek before leaving the room quickly, a sight that made the woman chuckle.

It is a deal that makes you both happy. You have met Astrid at the Academy, when you were both trainees that dreamed of joining the S.H.I.E.L.D. without even knowing if you were good enough for that. The two of you quickly became close — That’s the kind of thing that happens where you are the only two females of your promotion. Either you hate each other over your dead bodies, or you grow so close that you become inseparable. 

Except that, since you've both achieved your dreams and joined S.H.I.E.L.D, something changed in your relationship. It wasn’t your fault, nor hers, that you had less time to see each other, your jobs taking a lot of your time and energy. Then you've been assigned on a long-term mission with the Avengers, and you’ve spent less time at the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters despite still working for the organization. Then you've met Natasha, and you feel like you’ve slightly grown apart from each other after you’ve announced to her your new relationship. On the whole, you had less time to spend with your best friend, and the promises to make up for the lost time have never been kept, not until today. That deal was the perfect occasion to spend a bit of time together outside of the office work.

You both really hoped that this night would make things back as they were before.

"You know, I love her," she confessed to the redhead, her voice being barely louder than a whisper as she felt tears filling her eyes. "Since the day we met, I have loved her. That's what I told her, that night, when we went out," she admitted, and Natasha felt her heart pounding in her chest, her hands were shaking with apprehension, “but she rejected me. She loves you so much, too much," she sadly chuckled, but the redhead felt no relief when she heard those words because they were not explaining the pictures. She can't cry, not now, not in front of that woman.

"Continue," she ordered, feeling that the woman had more to say than that. She already knew that Astrid loved you, you may be the only one that hadn't seen it, or maybe you were pretending, or maybe you were blinded by your love for Natasha.

"I didn't plan to do that, you know," she started, carefully looking at the spy, "but I was so desperate that night, and I-," she said, except she was unable to finish her sentence, the words stuck in her throat.

The past three years, she had kept the truth a secret. At first, she thought it was better that way. The woman was ashamed of her actions, and she was relieved when heard that you’ve been transferred to another department, and she thought that her secret would be safe. Except that, if everyone acted as if you’ve never existed, her mind didn’t allow her to forget. Every hour of every day, you were in her mind, and the longer she thought about that night, the biggesther guilt became, until the burden was too heavy to bear. Tonight, hearing them argue about you, has been the last straw.

“What did you do?” she asked, sensing that something was wrong. She didn’t like the feeling that was creeping inside of her, “what. did. you. do.?” she asked once again, but more firmly that time, when the other didn’t immediately answer her question. As she saw the hesitation, she reduced the distance between them in a second, her hand gripping the collar of Astrid’s shirt that she pins to the wall abruptly, “tell me. Now,” she insisted as the interaction only reinforced the bad feeling she had.

That morning, unlike the others, you woke up alone. There haven’t been the gentle caresses of your girlfriend to wake you up, nor her sweet words to coax you into getting up. No, that day, it was only yourself, draped into the cold sheets, and it felt so strange, the silence and the loneliness of the room. Sadly, it has not been the exception you’ve wished it would be, but only the first of too many mornings like that.

In the sleepy state you were in, it took you a few seconds to realize that something was wrong, and almost a minute before you noticed that you weren’t home. You couldn’t even recognize the place you were in, only knowing that it looked like a hotel, a shitty one if you might say. The room was small, simple, and not-so-comfortable. There was something in the ambience that gave you an uneasy feeling about the whole thing, but you were unable to say what it was exactly.

Your head is throbbing, and you are definitely feeling nauseous, but you know that’s not the problem. Your physical distress isn’t the cause of the weight on your chest, the one that makes your breath aching, it’s something else that your mind can’t comprehend yet. It’s all these inconsistencies. The missing memories of last night, the unknown room, the fact that you are alone,... you don’t remember drinking that much last night. You may not be the most responsible person that planet has known, but you know how to handle yourself. Usually. 

Could you have possibly drunk that much? 

The day has barely started, but you already know it is going to be a rough one. If only you knew how right you were, maybe you would have taken a few more hours of sleep, enjoying the comfortable peace of your old life a bit longer before joining the chaos. Yet, you had no means to guess that your day would go that way. 

It's a note left on the bedside table that answered all your questions, easing some of the worries that were creeping inside of you. Someone has written the following words : “Couldn’t get you home because of how drunk you were. don’t worry about being late today, I won’t tell Fury. however, had to go on a mission, be careful when you go home. I left you a bit of money, it should be enough to pay for the room and an Uber. Love you.” The message might not have been signed, but you can easily recognize Astrid’s handwriting. A smile spreads across your lips as you are reassured, the situation not being as bad as your mind made it look.

Some memories of last night flew back in your mind, but it’s only a glimpse of what happened, a lot of the events staying unknown to yourself. The last thing you can remember is the conversation you had with Astrid, when she admitted that she loved you and you replied that you too, thinking she meant as friends because you couldn’t see her any other way, not when you were already engaged in a relationship. The rest of the exchange is confused, and you are not sure what’s real and what has been made up by alcohol. Even today, you are still not sure. 

Maybe you’ve really drunk too much that night.

Knowing that you’ve been with Astrid the whole time was reassuring, and you are no longer as bothered by the absence of memories. For a moment, you thought you'd been kidnapped by some weird man. As you regain your composure, your thoughts become clearer and you decide that the first thing you should do is to send a message to your girlfriend. She must be so worried, and your heart aches at the thought that you might be a source of problem for the woman you love.

It is not your kind to not keep your promises, and you’ve told her you would be home last night. It is not your kind either to not answer her messages or calls. In reality, you are quite the opposite, always sending her hundreds of messages when you are out with your friends. The only reason she hasn’t got after you is because she knew you were with Astrid, and she trusted you. However, the sweet messages are going to have to wait because, when you try to turn your phone on, you only encounter a black screen, a sign that you’ve run out of battery. Obviously, your friend didn’t think to leave you a charger.

You sigh, admitting your defeat. Shaking your phone surely won’t change the situation. For the moment, there is nothing more you can do, except hoping that Natasha won’t be too angry. As you are getting ready, your mind is focused on how to earn the redhead’s forgiveness — Maybe you could stop to buy her some flowers? You hate it, when the two of you are arguing. It doesn’t happen a lot, but it’s never pretty, and the mere thought that it might happen was already hurting.

As you definitely couldn’t go back to the compound by yourself, not knowing how far you were and being in a pitiful state, you decided to use the money left by Astrid to call a cab, as she instructed you to do. It’s not before you enter the car that you realize how late you actually were. It is almost one in the afternoon, and if you are not an early riser, like your girlfriend who is always up by six at the latest, you rarely get up after ten.

It has been a thirty minutes drive back to the compound, and the whole time you were thinking about two things: taking a shower, and leaning into your girlfriends’ arms. You are so exhausted, physically and mentally, that you’ve decided to skip work today — You were already so late that it wouldn’t make a big difference anyway. The journey was long, and those thirty minutes felt like hours. 

Soon enough, you started to suffocate into your own mind, then skin. You felt so sweaty, and dirty, that it quickly became unbearable. Maybe it was the effects of the alcohol, or maybe because you’ve slept in a seedy motel, but the only thing you wanted was to get rid of the clothes you were wearing and the uncomfortable state you were in as soon as possible.

When you enter the compound, you find it empty, and so is the room you are sharing with the woman. If you frown, you don’t think much about it. If the building is rarely empty, it sometimes happens when emergencies are called. A whine escapes your lips as you realize that, if it’s true, they are going to be mad at you for not being here when they needed it. You can already feel your mind losing itself to self-hatred thoughts, as you mutter to yourself how stupid you are. You are going to need more than a few flowers to earn their forgiveness. The fact that JARVIS confirmed that everyone was at the S.H.I.E.L.D.'s quarters didn’t, you would have preferred to hear that they went to the restaurant without you rather than that.

Tears brimming your eyes, you quickly put your phone to charge. It is only when you get out of the shower, twenty minutes later, that you saw the missed calls and messages from Natasha. The most recent ones were sent a few minutes ago. There were too many of them for you to take time to read everything so you just sent her a quick text that said: “sorry, my battery was dead, and I couldn’t answer your calls. I’ll explain everything, I promise. see you soon. love you.” A message she saw but she didn’t answer, which is unusual and an obvious hint of how angry she probably is.

Despite your decision to not work today, you still end up in the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters. You are almost running in the corridors, going to the meeting room where you find your girlfriend, and the rest of the Avengers. When you stumble into the room, a deadly silence descends. None of them greeted you, and the only reaction you got was Fury’s nod when you started mumbling excuses for your late arrival. While your eyes immediately landed on the redhead, she didn’t glance at you once of the entire meeting. The sight made your heart sink. You love her, but you have to admit that the spy is scary when she has that stern expression on her face, one that leaves no room for discussion.

The safest decision was to sit on the furthest chair, leaving her space until you get the opportunity to explain yourself. Something that you hadn't had a chance to do before a few more hours, when you stumbled into her in the corridors. You have been lost in your mind, having a hard time focusing on your work. Earlier, when the meeting ended, she immediately left the room, not leaving you a chance to exchange a word with her, and it has been bugging you since.

“Please, wait,” you said, already begging the woman. When she heard your voice, she stopped, allowing you to gently grab at her arm so she didn't go. She could, if she wanted to, and a part of her did want to run away, but the rest of her knows that this conversation can’t be avoided. “Listen, I- I am sorry,” you started once you were sure she was willing to listen to your excuses, “I should have warned you, but I couldn’t, my phone’s battery was dead and, and- honestly? I don't remember much of what happened last night. All I know is that once was enough. It won't happen again,” you chuckled sadly. When you woke up that morning, you promised to yourself that it was the last time you drank that much. A promise you kept, and three years later, you still haven’t touched a bottle of alcohol. “I promise, 'tasha. Please, don't be mad at me for that, or at least tell me how I can make up for my mistake,” you said, and the woman knew she had heard enough.

“Seriously?” she scoffed, breaking free of your grip. “I can’t believe you are that stupid,” she said, as she started to walk away. But if she didn’t want to hear the sound of your voice any more, you, however, weren’t done yet.

"I know I’ve made a mistake, but I am fine, isn’t it the most important?” you asked, starting to follow. Except that, when she heard your steps in her back, she accelerated her pace. “I promise to be more careful next time but, you know, I can handle myself for one night. Well, I might have drunk a bit too much, but Astrid was wi~,” you tried to explain, except she cut short your ramblings. To say, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but the woman quickly cut you. She scoffed again, in disbelief this time.

"You are really stupid, aren't you?” she said, stopping in her tracks, and you almost ran into her, surprised by her sudden stop. A few more seconds passed before she turned around to face you, her posture matching her stern expression. “Do you think I don't know what happened last night, with Astrid? Do you really think I wouldn’t have known the truth?” she added, taking a step forward for every question she asked, and you took one back every time, until your back hit the walls. You would certainly have found the situation hot if she didn’t look like she was about to murder you.

“W- what?” you said, “you are mad because I went out with a friend. That’s the problem? Astrid is the problem?" you snapped, starting to feel frustrated about the whole situation. 

You are tired, and the only thing you’ve wanted to do since you opened your eyes that morning — Throwing yourself in your girlfriend’s arms — was impossible to do. You hadn’t expected the woman to give you such a hard time. You knew she could be jealous sometimes, you’ve already had arguments about that in the past, but you’ve always been understanding because you know that her jealousy isn’t caused by a lack of trust. This feeling is fuelled by her own insecurities and past. Except that, that time, it was too much. The way she wouldn't listen to your excuses is seriously hitting on your nerves.

"Don't you dare to lie to me,” she said. For a moment, you thought she was going to hit you, but she took a step back before she could do that. She was angry too, taking deep breaths in an attempt to ease the feeling. “I trusted you,” she eventually added but her tone was different — The anger left her voice, replaced by pain. “I trusted you and, most importantly, I loved you,” she whispered, turning around to see you one last time. “After everything I have done for you, I can't believe that's how you are thanking me. You know, I really thought you were different, better," she laughed, trying very hard to not throw you against the walls or worse, to cry. The most insufferable was the look in your eyes, the false innocence. She was tired of pretending, she had given you enough chances to tell her the truth, “but you’re not,” but now, she was done trying.

That is the last time the two of you talked. The next time you’ve seen her, she hasn’t been kind enough to let you have a chance to explain things. She was done trying, and so were you. The last words she said are still ringing in your head, even years later. Maybe if you'd chased her once again that day, things would have ended differently, but you haven’t moved. You couldn’t, petrified by the conversation that just took place, you have just watched the redhead walking away without glancing back.

It’s only when you enter the break room that you understand the whole conversation you had with Natasha. No one was here, but the walls had been covered with pictures of yourself. At first, you thought it was a prank from your teammates’ but the pictures were all but innocent. You felt your heart sink when you took down one of the photos to get a closer look at it, and tears in your eyes when you realized that you were nude in those.

It was you, in bed, with Astrid. Your face doesn’t entirely show but you can easily recognize yourself and the bed you’ve woken up in that morning. There were dozens of different pictures, but all showed similar scenes: your bodies against each other as you are obviously sharing an intimate moment. Something that you should only share with one person on that Earth. A person that is definitely not Astrid. 

Except that the more you look at those pictures, the more foreign they feel. You are sure you are the one in the pictures, but you are still unable to remember what happened. Slowly, doubt creeps into your heart — Did you drink that much last night? 

So much that you betrayed the woman you swore to love until the sun dies? 

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. You are suddenly overwhelmed by a bunch of emotions that you can’t describe, but that are definitely not pleasant. It is a mix of confusion, anger, guilt, and disgust. The pictures speak for themselves, and they leave little room for doubt about what you were doing — And you were surely not just sleeping. The woman was on top of you, her mouth closed to your neck, maybe she was leaving soft kisses against your skin, maybe she was whispering sweet things in your ears, you don’t know. But the thing you were focused on was her hand hidden by the sheets, leaving only your imagination to complete the scene. It wasn’t the only picture of that kind: they were all picturing similar scenes. You can easily understand her rage and hatred earlier because you are now sharing those feelings with your girlfriend, just for different reasons.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" a voice said, pulling out of your mind. It was Astrid, who just entered the room. She glanced around before looking back at you, a sad smile spreading on her lips when she notices the tears that are soaking your face. and you saw Astrid entering the room. She looks around, a sorry look on her face. "I am sorry,” she started, and you could feel she was looking for the right thing to say, “I- I sent the pictures to the wrong person. When I realized, I tried to explain to Romanoff but, well… you know how she is,” she explained, shrugging as if she was trying to make you believe she had actually tried to, “she wouldn't listen to me, and they- they did that before I could stop them. It doesn’t please me either," she added, reminding you that you weren’t the only one suffering from the situation. Except she seemed to deal with the situation better than you do. As she talked, she slowly walked closer to you, accompanying each of her sentences with a few steps forward until she was close enough to wrap you in her arms. 

You didn’t get the energy to push her away.

"Did we.. ?" you asked, but your voice broke before you could finish your sentence. It felt too difficult to say those words out loud — “Did we hook up? Did I cheat on Natasha?” But the woman doesn’t need the words to be said, she seems to read in your mind the end of your sentence.

"Of course we did, what kind of question is that?" she replied, frowning. She seems to be surprised by your question. For a second, the hand that was slowly caressing the back of your head stopped. The woman pulled back a little, just so she could see your face. "Why? Do you regret it?" she asked, and for an instant she seemed to be genuinely worried about your reaction, "because you didn't seem to last night, when you cried my name,..." she whispered in your ear. You could feel her breath tickling your skin but it wasn’t a pleasant feeling, unlike when Natasha does it.

Everything felt so much. Her voice, her touch, her presence so close to you, was now unbearable. As she remembers the night you’ve spent, a soft smirk spreads on her lips, but you are definitely not sharing her feelings. “Of course we did.” The words loop back into your mind, it seeps in like a poison that quickly takes over your whole being. Soon, you are paralyzed by an awful feeling. It hurts, but at the same time you are not sure you are actually feeling something, your body and mind feeling so foreign to you — If you wanted it, why does it feel so wrong?

At that moment, if you had been able to move, you would have ripped your ears off just so you wouldn’t hear her voice any more, and maybe you would have done the same with your skin. It felt like the only way to get rid of your overwhelming feelings. Suddenly, the reassuring touch of your best friend made you feel gross, and so do her sweet words — But if she said that you did it, and wanted it, then it must be true, right?

You have seen the pictures, they are in your hands, right under your eyes. You can see yourself betraying the woman you love and in those, you really don't give the impression that you didn’t want to. On the contrary.

"No, no, it- it's not that, it’s just…," you eventually managed to say, but you are hesitating and unsure of yourself. There are too many thoughts and words clouding your head, so many ways you could react and yet, none of what you could say or do felt right. "It’s just that I don’t even remember last night,” you admitted, feeling ashamed about it, “I mean, did we- you know,... for real?" you asked softly but you were not even listening to Astrid’s answer, the question was more for yourself in reality. "Sorry, I have to go, see you later", you said, interrupting the woman. Somehow, you regained control over your body, just enough to push the other away and leave the room. You are not sure where you are going, but as far from that room as you can is already a good start.

That's where she found you when she came home that night, sitting on the bathroom's floor, the pictures in your hands.

Your hand is still wrapped tightly around the pictures, but you didn’t notice it. Not before being back home, in the room you are sharing with Natasha — Or were sharing, you thought, unsure about how the situation would unfold. It may be the last time you set a foot in that room that has been your safe place for months. Before you could completely break down, you decided to take a shower, thinking that, maybe, the steaming water would be enough to ease your mind. You took two showers. Then three, then four, and maybe more. You can’t be sure, you’ve stopped counting. All you knew was that it hasn’t been enough to get rid of the uneasy feelings and thoughts. You’ve scrubbed yourself until your skin was so sensitive that even the touch of the towel has been painful — But maybe you deserved it.

The rest of the day is a blur, and you are not sure what time it is. You’ve spent hours on the bathroom’s floor, your left hand clenched around the picture while the right one was holding the towel. Your head was so empty, but so full at the same time. That’s how she found you when she came home that night, and if she had been tempted to wrap you in her arms when she saw your pitiful state, the conversation she just had with the others discouraged her to do so — You didn’t deserve her pity. They are right when they say that you are not the victim: you are the one that cheated on her, and she needs to be firm, stern. You knew how hard it is for the woman to trust someone and yet, you still broke the fate she had put in you after years of making her dream of a better future.

"Oh, so you remember now?" she coldly said to you when she entered the room. You didn’t move, not even your eyes to look at her, but if you did, you would have seen that the woman was leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed. Maybe you would have also seen that her coldness was only a facade, and that she was as close as you were from breaking down. 

You stayed silent, unable to say anything. The words were stuck in your clenched throat, and they aren’t feeling right anyway — How could you defend yourself when you didn't even know what happened exactly? Plus, you weren’t even sure there was something to defend, the pictures speaking for themselves. Even when she started packing your belongings, you didn’t move. For you to move, she had to grab your arm and drag you all the way outside the Avengers’s building by herself. 

She needed you gone, and everyone agreed that it was only for the best. At least for a few weeks, just the time for things to calm down. That’s what she came to announce. The few words that left your mouth were useless, your pleas falling in deaf ears: the decision had already been made, and the sentence was irrevocable. The woman is done with your bullshit. She is done with you, and so you are.

"The pictures, they- they aren't real," she eventually admitted, her voice being barely louder than a whisper as she unburdens herself of this old secret. “I mean, th- they are, but it’s a staging. Nothing happened between us, she- hm, loves you too much to give you away,” she continued, tears filling her eyes as she talks, her voice wavering a little more with each word. "She isn't even conscious in these," she continued when the spy didn’t react. If the black-haired woman thought it was because the other was listening, it was because she didn’t know how to react.

The weight of what she had done left her shoulder, and it was now lingering in the room, where the air was suddenly thick, and almost unbreathable. Natasha felt a weight in her chest that made each breath harder than the previous one. Overcome by surprise, she had let go of the other, stepping back a few steps. Her thoughts were racing, numerous and contradictory, they weren’t coherent enough to allow how to respond in any way. She needed to do something, but she didn’t know what.

“I- I don’t know why I did that. It wasn’t me, that night, you know that, right? That I would usually never ever do something like that,” she started to defend herself when she saw the look on Natasha’s face, “I was so angry, and disappointed, when she refused. I have given her everything since we met, and yet you are the one she chose. I thought that, maybe, with a bit of time she would eventually realize her mistake, … but I was so wrong,” she sighed, and the redhead could see the remnants of that anger in her attitude. A clenching jaw and fists, accompanied with firm words that left no doubt about the resentment she held towards her, and towards you. “That night, I- I wasn’t myself. We’ve already had a few drinks and, you know, it doesn’t mix well with emotions,” she continued, and the woman could feel her anger rising with every word the other spoke. “All I could think about was getting revenge. I wanted to show her she was wrong, that I had so much more to offer than she thought. I wanted her to change her mind, to see me for more than just a friend,” she admitted, her voice being just a whisper as she says the last sentence. “I never thought it would end this way, I swear, you’ve to believe me, Natasha,” and to forgive me. She didn’t say the last words out loud, but she doesn’t need to, her eyes are speaking for herself.

Only, when her gaze met the redhead’s, she didn’t see in her eyes the compassion she had been expecting, only pure hatred, an emotion that had quickly replaced the initial surprise. Not even a word was addressed to her as the other left the room, leaving her alone to dry her tears.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).

| Taglist — @cd-4848, @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite, @gemz5, @jusnough, @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0, @mrsrushman, @riyaexee, @takeyaki, @taliiiaasteria.

[notanactressyayy]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫

— ₊⊹ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 . Natasha Romanoff x reader

— ₊⊹ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 . in which she finally feels heard, seen.

— ₊⊹ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 . angst, emotional breakdown (panic attack), swearing, mentions of scars (sh), mentions of suicidal ideologies. Nat being honest and open about her feelings for once. hurt/comfort.

— ₊⊹ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. rainy days, match sad stories. venting.

divider credits: @saradika-graphics ༉‧₊˚.

the heaviness of the afternoon air settled over Natasha — weighting down what was already heavy. her mind, her body.. everything felt like a weight, a weight she carried since she was born, or even before her soul was incarnated in her body. she felt— no, she knew that she was born in bad news, cursed, and there was no way of getting out of this. it's funny, those were the exact same thoughts she had ever since she was a child— 10, 11, maybe? and in that age, crossed her mind that probably when she grew up, those ideas would vanish and she would be free to have a normal life.

but that certainly didn't happen. and now, she found herself trapped. trapped in web that the more she struggled, more stuck she got, and that was a routine that repeated over and over and over — optimistic, optimistic delusional thoughts that came to battle with the bad ones, telling her that things would someday be okay, and the real, coherent ones, that crushed all the hope, the little sparkle of hope she had within her, making her mind a complete and total mess. chaos behind chaos. sleepless nights, restless days.

god, how good would it be if at least, her body wasn't enchanted. how perfect would it be, to throw herself down a building and don't feel anymore, instead of having just a few scratches here and there. the blade helped, even with the acknowledge that a normal person would feel 10 times more than she did. because the pain was still little, when comparing to everything this woman already endured. the red lines on her arms and thighs were just a reminder of the red on her ledge, and that it was now impossible to wipe away.

in moments like those ones, her brain desperately searched for any solution, any thought to refute her current state — it was the human instinct to survive. (yeah, she's human). her eyes squeeze tight, feet stumbling forward and hands gripping tightly the trailer's window rail, knuckles turning white.

inhale, exhale. inhale— no, let's stick to panting.

her mind would drift back to the little girls who she shared her life with in the red room, remembering each of their personalities, what each one of them would do in a situation like this. ironically, for Natasha, they deserved to be listened and helped. but herself? nah. but in the deep end, she didn't know if they were still breathing, still in this world. what was the point..?

"come on..." she mutters, hissing loudly as her legs start trembling, knees ready to give up. "stop, stop, stop, stop..."

her heart never felt so filled with anguish and pain like right now — yes it did, but it was always like that: whenever that happened, the past experiences felt like they never existed — and the now felt like too much to handle. her ears buzzed, the sounds of the wind blowing across the tree leaves around her went down to volume zero — the hair on her legs and arms went up in a deep shiver, and eyes went wide — realization.

the same fucking realization as always. nobody listens, nobody cares. no one will ever know her true story. no one will ever fix her. she won't be remembered. her life's a waste— why was she even born, when everything that happened was disgrace after disgrace. that's when the thread snaps, and her body reacts before her mind can follow.

her throat closes, as if suffocating — body falling backwards, hitting the floor with full force. her fingers run through her hair and tug on the strands, pulling them strongly, even breaking a few of the auburn locks. tears of desperation threatens to fall down her cheeks, but she doesn't really realize that yet. she's just so out of air, that's impossible to control any other action.

"why won't that fucking—" Natasha manages between gasps. she groans, grabbing on the skin of her thighs and squeezing them harshly, creating moon-shaped little marks, enough to draw blood. "won't it— stop!"

then, she sobs. wait, but.. why did it felt like.. relief? perhaps because now, she was in your arms.

a foreign, strange sensation of warmth, warmth of another human being, enveloped her. she didn't recognize who it was, nor did she care. with pure instinct, her arms wrapped around the person's midsection, clinging for dear life. and now, with the sense of security, she was able to cry freely. she cried silently, something you didn't like. her chest heaved with emotion, but you wished she was louder. she was taught that widows didn't feel pain, wether it was physical or emotional. that's why her small cries sounded as painful and miserable as loud ones. you, sitting on the floor with her, scooped her weeping frame into your arms and held her — her side against your chest, head tucked in the crook of your neck.

sadly, it wasn't the first time, and you knew it wouldn't be the last. you were always in the trailer with her when she had breakdowns like this one. and that was what broke you the most — her brain subconsciously would tell her she was alone, and she didn't know how to deal with intense feelings like those: thus, she didn't know how to ask for help, how to come to you so you both could prevent those mental draining episodes.

when you first met Natasha, the first thing she asked you was to forget that she was a deadly spy, an avenger, or whatever the hell else people knew her as. at least for a day, so you could see where things would go. this fact only, meant that since the beginning, she had a feeling about you.. one she couldn't quite put a finger on, but which made her want to be herself, with no masks or titles around you.

it was common sense everything she went through. but only you knew about her true point of view. when her own self felt like an outside observer regarding to her own life, you were always there to remind her of who she was.

"you're safe... you're safe, i am safe.. we're both safe.." you whisper, running your hand up and down her shivery arm, putting the cold away. "okay, Nat? you are safe. i am right here, ready to fight whatever evil that befalls you.''

"i don't know.. i-i just.. i'm exhausted... i'm s-so tired.." she manages between small cries, eyes pleadingly looking up into yours. her hand reaches out and intertwine her fingers with your own, grasping on every sense she had of your presence — because she knew it could fade again, that she could fall in the loop again. and it was torturous. "i never.. no one ever listened to me... i never.. told anyone.. about.. a-about..."

"i know." you nod, arms tightening around her. you crawl a little backwards, just so you could reach the blanket that laid upon the couch and grab it. you wrap it around her with one hand, not letting go of her own. she subconsciously brings the fluffy fabric closer to herself and snuggles up against your body. "but you can tell me. isn't it clear, malyshka? that you're stuck with me?"

malyshka. the endearment term in russian she had taught you. she loved it, so goddamn much. a little weak smile tugs on her lips, the kindness you were showing her easing the tension — as if you were offering to carry the weight with her. compassion, empathy. so foreign.

"i just.." she shakes her head, sniffling and taking a deep, shaky breath. she stays silent for a few minutes, and you wait. voice so quiet, small.. and scared. "before you.. no one ever.. held me. i never had anyone holding me. i never had a touch that didn't mean harm. never had anyone to listen."

"i know, Nat. and that pains me more than you think." you confirm, running your fingers through her hair, and nuzzling the side of your face against her cheek, resting on your shoulder. "but trust me, i will listen for hours, days, years and centuries. if you wanna share every single second of your life with me, i'm here to listen."

"that doesn't make any freaking sense to me." she chuckles humorlessly, a soft groan escaping her throat. she was feeling a little tired. "but.. the truth is.. few people understand what i went through. the little people who lived in the same circumstances as me are probably all dead.. and... i truly don't want you to understand. i don't want you to try and live the same horrors as i did. all i wish for..."

you take a moment to stare at her when she pauses. hurt arms, tear filled face. oh, what you wouldn't do to protect this heart. to keep it safe. never let anything harm it again.

"all i wish for, is for you to be here. to hold me like you're doing, to share your own experiences with me, to live with me. to whisper sweet nothings in my ear by the night. handle my body gently. just be here. be here and i know i'll be forever safe."

that was it. everything you ever wished for. you exhale deeply and shift her carefully, so she was on your lap. she looks down at you, and at your hand.. that slowly comes up to land on her cheek. she leans against it and breathes heavily. you smile, waiting for her next expected words.

"can i..." she clears her throat, hands shyly gripping your shoulders, eyes looking at you from below her eyelashes. "can i cry more?"

"of course." you cradle her again and settle her thighs around your hips. her arms wrap around your neck, and she gently leans her head on your shoulder... allowing herself to cry.. out of relief.

your right hand tenderly caresses her leg, tracing over the self indulged scars she had. the left one, makes slow, soothing circles on her spine, moving up, and down her back. she was letting all her emotions out, all the pain inside her heavy heart, was flowing out of her being. thanks to your patience, your gentleness, and your love.

turns out, love wasn't only for children. goodness gracious, how good it was to be loved...

"god," she sobs, squeezing you tighter, nose brushing against your hair as she allows herself to.. let go. "god, i need you."

"i'm here." you confirm quietly, looking up and kissing her temple. "i'm here, i'm not going anywhere."

[jtargaryen18]

OMG. Where do I even start? If I could plot like that? I mean the premise of this story and all the details that went into it? *mind blown* 24 hours of that? Sign me up, please! Because once we get past the setup -- and boy did you knock the hell out of the prompts you chose -- that was just the whipped cream and sprinkles on top of this sin sundae. I read that section TWICE.

And intentional or not, I loved "Jamie" being a great conjurer in this and making all this smutty goodness happen. Just f*cking clever. It had me grinning the rest of the way through this story.

What an awesome story for this challenge. All of you have to read it. It's just the thing to get you through a chilly autumn night.

Thank you SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!👻🦇🎃

Toys 'R' Us

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Non-Consensual Sex, Dubious Consensual Sex, Kidnapping, M/F Penetrative Sex (vag & anal), F/F Oral, M/F Oral (f receiving, everything else implied), Implied M/M, Choking, Very Mild Language, Restraints, Fingering, Fisting, Anal, Squirting, Use of Pet Names. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Pairings:- dark!Steve Rogers x Female Reader, dark!Tony Stark x Female Reader, dark!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Author’s Note 1: This is my submission for @jtargaryen18 Halloween Challenge 2023. Having chosen the prompt below, I’m kinda hoping I pulled it and the spooky sense of the season off.  Even if I didn't, I most definitely had fun writing this. Thank so much for hosting this delightful challenge Jamie, you’re an inspiration to so many of us here.  Hope anyone who reads this enjoys 💖

Challenge Prompt:- (The Portal in the Pumpkin: You carve one of the pumpkins Tony ordered, but this one turns out to be a portal to somewhere else...)

Author’s Note 2:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- Whomever told you Halloween parties were supposed to be fun never heard of those involving Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.  What will happen when you accept an invitation to Tony Stark’s latest shindig?

Total Word Count:- 8,278

The invitation showed up in your mail just like it did every year you had worked for Tony Stark.  But this year should have been different.  Oh sure the heroes had stopped Thanos and things had pretty much gone back to normal.  But what it had cost humanity seemed to have been forgotten by everyone but you.  And here was the proof.

Looking at the red envelope with its gold writing you still couldn't believe this was happening.  Tony was dead after all.  Steve had chosen to abandon his friends and those that cared about him to live in the past with some British dame who promised him a dance but had no idea of the man he had become.  And Natasha? Well Nat had willingly sacrificed herself knowing that no power in existence could ever bring her back.

So whose idea was it then that this Halloween should be celebrated in the same fashion Tony celebrated every occasion ... with a fabulous party that people talked about long after it was over.  Opening up your door now and heading inside your home, the shocks continued to rock your system as you ripped open the envelope and pulled out the invitation you were now so used to receiving.

Except this wasn't anything like the previous ones.

Appearing now in ghostly holographic form and coupled with the time of year it was, Tony's voice sent a shiver down your spine as he reached out from beyond the grave and reminded you just how prepared he was for anything life threw his way.  "Hello darling."  Ugh there it was again you thought, that cringe worthy endearment that even in death was still such an integral part of who he was.  "If you're seeing this then I am no longer among the living, but that hardly seems like a valid reason to let my legacy crumble.  Therefore in true Tony Stark fashion," he continued with his hand upon his heart, "your presence is hereby requested at the last Stark party to be hosted by yours truly.  No need to R.S.V.P., it's not like you would deny a dead man's last request after all."

Watching now as he winked back at you before the recording disappeared and left you on your own once again, you dropped onto the couch behind you and tried to think through your options.  You hated parties after all.  In all honesty it had to be the only part of being Tony Stark's assistant that really grated on you.  Long hours.  Tedious requests.  His never ending flirtatious ramblings.  All of these you took in your stride and even laughed off some of them.  But these parties were definitely something you could do without.

Which you figured was why Tony always insisted you show up.  Mixing with humanity was, according to someone who preferred to bury himself with machines, the only way to experience all the thrills life had to offer.  God even now the thought of Tony lecturing you on always choosing books over partying made your eyes roll.  He really knew how to annoy you it seemed.

Yet even in death, the man still had a point.

You could never deny him anything in life and you weren't about to cheat him out of his last request now.  No matter how painful it would be to attend knowing that the man of the hour wasn't going to be there, you would always show up for him.  Giving one last look at the invitation now and acknowledging that you at least had two day to prepare for this blessed event, you then headed off to bed and figured tomorrow would give you plenty of time to track down something suitable to wear.  After all one couldn't show up to a Stark Party in any old rags.

Greeting the world again on what you thought was the following morning, you were beyond horrified to discover that you had actually slept a whole day away.  Trying to remember now if you had actually gotten out of bed at all, some empty water bottles on your bedside locker and some vague memory of trips to the bathroom comforted you at least with the knowledge that you had left the bed.  But that seemed to be all you did.  Thinking back now on the last activity you could remember accomplishing, throwing yourself into bed after a long and exhausting day at work somehow convinced you now that the invitation you recalled receiving was simply a dream brought about by far too many long days and sleepless nights.  However, rising from the bed and leaving the room, the envelope and its contents waiting on your living room coffee table told you the summons was real.  Tony Stark was causing you problems once again.

Picking it up and now reading through the finer details his holographic presence and your tiredness had previously caused you to overlook, you now confirmed with a deep sigh the last thought you had that night before sleep knocked you out cold ... nothing in your closet would qualify for this event and you would definitely have to go shopping.  Sighing now with the realization that two days notice had disappeared to become the day of the party, you figured you better get a move on.

Calling a taxi then to pick you up in half an hour, you hurried off into the bathroom to shower and dress before heading outside to catch your ride.  Sitting into the taxi then and telling your driver Devon exactly where you wanted to go, you tried to focus on him talking to you about mundane things like the weather or the last football game he watched but the list of various Halloween outfit shops popping up on your phone as you scrolled through Google proved too much of a distraction to really take in much of what was being said.  After all, with the party taking place tonight this shopping trip was the very definition of last minute.  And you despised last minute chores.

Which you guessed explained the headache that was now beginning to form.

At last arriving in the center of the city, you promptly paid and thanked your driver before exiting the taxi and heading off towards the nearest costume shop.  Hoping for a one and done kind of experience, stepping inside the front door at least brought you some comfort when you were greeted by a throng of adults and children milling about through the huge array of colorful costumes stretching as far as the eye could see.  You weren’t the only one it seemed that the spooky season had crept up on.

Walking through the shop now around excited children, harried adults and even more stressed out shop assistants, you made your way to the adult sections and carefully pawed through every single costume without any of them really screaming out ‘pick me.’  Giving up at last when nothing really grabbed your attention, you left the shop and headed to the next one and the next one and the one after that.  Eventually tired out and wondering why you were unable to find a simple costume for a simple Halloween party, you figured a spot of lunch might allow you to clear your head and start over when suddenly a quick glance down a side alley revealed a small shop decked out in pumpkins, spiders and all manner of ghost and ghoulie.

Glancing around now and observing that no one else seemed even remotely aware of the shop’s existence or where you were even looking, you took a few extra seconds to ponder this revelation before swallowing your concerns, placing one foot in front of the other and heading off towards its door.  Placing your hand on the knob then once getting within its reach, you held your breath and pushed forwards.

Stepping inside the first thing that caught your eye wasn’t the smoking cauldrons or the various supernatural creatures displayed throughout but the actual interior of the place itself … it reminded you of a forest.  Decked out with a moss like carpet, the night sky overhead contrasted beautifully with the leaves cascading down the walls in all the glorious colors of fall.  It took your breath away.  In fact you were so mesmerized by the whole scene before you that you actually let out a shocked scream when a hand landed on your shoulder as the owner of the shop made her presence known to you.

“I’m sorry my dear, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she apologized politely as you smiled back tenderly while you tried to reassure her that no harm had been done.  Starting a conversation then regarding how amazing her shop looked and at the same time how empty it was compared to most of those on the main street, she simply smiled and reassured you that she still turned a nice profit through those that were destined to find this place.  Taking no notice of her exact words however as your attention now fell to the lack of costumes on display, you wondered if she could actually read your mind when she walked over to the door, locked it and then turned her attentive gaze back on you before speaking.  “Now dear, how about you follow me to the back room and we’ll see if we can find something to bring out your spooky spirit.”

Glancing at the locked door now as she simply walked past you while motioning for you to follow after her, your mind quickly debated what you had gotten yourself into before the memory of why you were even on this trip reminded you that you were terribly low on options.  The party was fast approaching and all the other shops you had tried had been woefully disappointing.  This one really couldn't be any worse, right?  So silencing your reservations then and following behind her step by step, thirty minutes later had you endlessly thanking her as you finally had a costume that suited you and the occasion perfectly.  She truly had delivered.  Saying your goodbyes then, picking up a few essential items and grabbing a quick bite to eat, you next hailed a taxi to get you back home to begin preparing for the night ahead.

Opening up the door to your apartment and stepping inside, you put away your other purchases before heading into your bedroom and dropping the bag containing your costume onto the bed.  Sinking into the chair in the corner of the room then, you contemplated one more time about not going to this party before you finally chastised yourself for hiding yourself away from your former work colleagues.  Sure Tony’s death had been hard on you, so hard in fact you sought out a new job even as the Avengers now rebuilt the compound at a completely different site and Pepper had offered you a lucrative position as her own personal assistant.  Still it would never be the same.  It couldn’t be.  Tony may have been a colossal pain in the ass after all, but he did make things fun.  And it was that fun you missed most of all.

Taking off your shoes now that your mind was beyond changing, you then reached for your phone, booked a taxi for an hour and a half later and finally headed off towards your en suite to start your preparations.  Stripping off your clothes then as the shower heated up and sent its soothing sounds throughout the room, you now stood beneath its warm spray and washed off all the grime trying on the various costumes had deposited on your skin.  Grabbing a towel then and heading back to your bedroom, you dried off before retrieving the costume and looking it over once more.  It really was impressive.

At last feeling all the excitement of the evening ahead, you slipped on the black and red leather bodysuit along with the knee high boots before standing in front of the full-length mirror just inside your closet door.  Admiring the way the suit hugged your figure while cupping your breasts in a way that honestly had you feeling all kinds of sexy, you had to admit that nothing looked as good as your legs leading down from the bodysuit to nestle snugly within the boots.  As Tony would say you were indeed a looker.

Genuinely smiling now for the first time since receiving the invitation, you next went about securing the high collar with the adjustable straps provided before taking out the accompanying belt and securing it firmly around your waist.  Watching now as the four sheer drapes cascaded down your thighs and ass, the light make-up and fake blood you then applied finally finished off the look splendidly and you had to agree that the shop owner was indeed correct.  This was most definitely your look.  Checking the time on your phone one last time, you then picked up your jacket and the invitation and walked out the door just in time to sit into the waiting taxi and head off to see what adventure lay ahead.

Pulling into the parking area of the new Avengers Compound twenty minutes later and handing over your jacket and invitation at the door, arriving at the entertainment floor confirmed that you had made the right decision despite the fact that for the first time since you had come to work for him Tony would not be here.  In fact, it suddenly hit you now standing in this room that Nat and Steve also had to be added to the list.  It just didn’t seem fair.  Setting aside these depressing thoughts however in favor of living life large just like your former boss was notorious for, you plastered on your best and brightest smile and walking towards the bar, ordered the reddest drink they had in honor of the vampire princess your costume declared you to be.  Sipping on it slowly then as the taste assaulted your senses and whatever alcohol it contained burned your throat, you took a few minutes to look around the floor and study the lay of the land until a shiver traveled down your spine and a voice in the back of your mind told you you were being watched.

But that just had to be paranoia, right?

This was a party you were actually invited to, you were no one in particular and everyone looked to be enjoying themselves way too much to zero in on you.  No, you figured now with the outfit you wore the shiver was simply your body adjusting to the changes in temperature and as for the voice well, that you were going to write off as your imagination when a cursory glance around the room proved not one single person here was looking in your direction.  You were just another body.  Gazing out across the sea of faces more closely now bathed in the eerie glow of lighted pumpkins and multi colored billowing smoke, another sip of your drink to calm your nerves and it actually warmed your heart to see so many people - superheroes and Stark employees alike - just hanging out and enjoying the spooky season in all manner of costume that now made you feel right at home.

At last leaving the safety of the bar and venturing forth to mingle, talk and get a closer look at some of the activities, you not only discovered Thor’s dark talent for telling terrifying stories that appeared to be frightening even grown ass adults, but it actually made you smile even more to find Bucky and Sam thoroughly outdoing each other in an ever increasingly degrading game of Truth or Dare.  They really seemed to be embracing the spirit of the season.  Which you figured was something you should be doing.

Thinking now to yourself however of just how much Tony and Nat especially would have enjoyed the festivities on display, you were just about to join Wanda, Pepper and some of your former colleagues from before you left Stark Industries to work at the Avengers Compound for a game of 7 Minutes In … when a glimpse off to your left revealed Carol, Clint and Bruce in the throes of carving pumpkins and having a heated discussion as to which one of them was doing a better job.  Deciding there and then that this actually looked like far better fun and also using the excuse to get your hands on a knife, you placed your hand on Pepper’s shoulder and gave her a warm smile in greeting before making a beeline for the three Avengers currently trying to decide what exactly Carol was after creating.

Stepping up beside them now in the hopes of not only settling the argument but also just to see what each of them had accomplished, you too had to agree that the pumpkin was not something recognizable on Earth to which Carol now threw her arms around you and thanked you for stating the obvious.  Apparently she had indeed carved out some alien creature none of you had ever even heard of and neither of the guys had actually realized it.  Deciding now that your detective skills merited some type of reward and pointing out, to his dismay, that it made you smarter than the great Doctor Banner, Carol now reached behind you and picked up the nearest pumpkin for you to try out your skills on.

Taking the knife now offered by Clint, you waited until all three of them nodded their heads for you to begin and so you did.  Slicing off the top and scooping out the insides, you then carved slowly and carefully and fifteen minutes later a tea light nestled inside revealed the Kraken from Norse mythology devouring a ship and dragging it down to the depths of the ocean never to be seen again.  Grumbling between themselves that you were hiding talents from them, the three superheroes now admitted defeat and walking away left you thinking of what you wanted to do next.  Deciding that as grand, successful and fun as your first pumpkin carving attempt had been, it was a bit too dark in your opinion despite the season that was in it and so reaching for the biggest pumpkin you could find you made the first cut thinking that this time you wanted to try something simple and cheerful.

But alas it wasn’t meant to be.  Sliding the knife in and drawing it back out, a gust of wind simply loud enough for you to hear emanated from the pumpkin and as the knife plunged back in and created a larger cut, a portal formed before your eyes and sucked you forwards into the unknown.

Rising to your feet now having been unceremoniously dumped out wherever the portal had ended, you took a few steadying breaths before beginning the task of figuring out where you were and how you were going to make it back to the party.  Realizing also in the same breath the mistake it was to have left your phone in your jacket pocket, you now focused instead on where you might be and the revelation shocked you.  You were standing in what appeared to be a darkened toy store.  Massive beyond belief and covered in cobwebs, debris and all the eerie spectacle of the season, your hopes of getting out of here began to soar as you cautiously made your way down the nearest aisle and headed towards the front of the building.  But that hope did not last long.

Being greeted by boarded up windows that let in just enough light for you to see by, this revelation coupled with a nearby phone that proved to be lacking an active dial tone told you all you really needed to know.  The place was utterly abandoned and you were trapped inside.  Panicking now at the situation you found yourself in, you checked and rattled every window and door you could find for any possible way out but no exit appeared, so you now began searching the surrounding area for anything that might help you escape or at the very least alert someone outside that this place was not as abandoned as it appeared.  Failing miserably however as everything you tried chipped away at your sense of preservation, you finally sent your gaze upwards along the height of the shelving and wondered if you could climb them, reach the roofing system and manage to get out that way.

Looking around once more now at the front of the building which offered no escape and the Halloween decorations adorning this place that now looked far more sinister and creepy the longer they stared back at you, you accepted you had nothing left to lose and so placing your foot on the nearest shelving and reaching up over your head you prepared to climb and get a better view of things above you when the sound of someone chanting off to your left caught your attention.  Stopping what you were doing now and focusing more completely on what was being said, you still couldn't distinguish any one word from another but two facts were undisputed.  And they totally freaked you out.  One, you were no longer alone in this place and two, this new voice belonged to that of the male variety.  Which made you even more uneasy.  Taking a moment now to contemplate this new information in the context of what you were currently wearing and the time of year it was, you waited a heartbeat more before finally deciding that seeking assistance to get out of here was worth whatever danger may be waiting for you somewhere in the bowels of this disused toy store.

Dropping back down to the floor and moving forward now without alerting your unknown companion, you made it all the way to the action figure aisle where the light of a stationary flashlight illuminated the silhouette of a familiar figure standing before a life size cardboard cutout of The Black Widow Natasha Romanoff.  Completely forgetting the unusual circumstances now that landed you in this peculiar location, you hurried forwards and called out Steve Rogers name until a wayward glance beyond him stopped you in your tracks.

Something very strange was happening here.

Looking back and forth now between the man that sparked hope within you and the object that halted your movements, seeing what looked like blood dripping down Natasha's effigy made you want to run back the way you had come when another image caught and held your attention.  At the end of the aisle, four or five feet away now from where you and Steve stood, another life size cardboard cutout also stood dripping in the same red substance, but it was still easy to make out.  This one was Tony Stark.  Moving slowly past Steve now without any interference from him to stand before the image of your former boss, you were just about to reach out and wipe the red liquid from his cardboard helmet when a hand suddenly reached out to stop you and made your skin crawl.

"Please don't do that.  Jamie was very clear that their blood should not come in contact with any other living creature," Steve explained and the shadows dancing across his features as you glanced towards him somehow made him far more terrifying than you ever thought possible.

"Who the fuck is Jamie and just what the hell is going on here?" you asked, turning now to face Steve fully while his grip on your wrist and the bloody scene before you frightened you more than you ever willing to utter.  Especially to him.

Visibly flinching a bit at your language, tone or possibly both, Steve easily composed himself however before speaking.  "Oh I'm sorry sweetheart," Steve began as he now moved both of you away from the figure before you and the temptation you still had to touch it.  "I thought after all the time the two of you spent picking out your costume she would at least have given you her name.  Guess she didn't," he now finished as his tongue darted out to lick his lips while his eyes took in the sight of you for the very first time.

Following his eyes down your costume now as some of the pieces began to fall into place, you still didn't know for sure what puzzle they were falling into though and part of you questioned if you really wanted to find out given what you had seen so far.  But it proved to be a very small part however.  Deciding instead after a brief pause that you just had to know what was going on, you turned your full focus back on Steve now and asked the question he failed to answer once again.

"Well if you really must know, Jamie informed me that very little separates the living from the dead on All Hallow's Eve.  So using a spell she provided, Nat and Tony can walk this earth once again."

Completely horrified now by this revelation, all that it implied and his seemingly cavalier attitude to what he was proposing, your head screamed at you to run but your natural curiosity won out again as more words tumbled from your mouth without too much thought for what you were saying or the consequences they might reap.  "What the hell Steve?  Why would you do something like this?  Have you any idea the forces your actions could unleash?"

Locking his eyes with you now as he contemplated whether or not to tell you the truth, it seemed the truth won out in the end as America's sentinel of liberty began to speak once more.  "What can I say sweetheart?  I missed Natasha.  Hell even on some level I also missed Tony.  I just had to find a way to bring them back.  And this is it.  Whatever it takes," he finished with a cold, almost lifeless whisper and you knew now that all hope was lost.  This man before he was no longer the beacon of hope the world held him up to be and the longer his blue eyes roamed over your barely concealed form the more afraid you became of the circumstances that landed you here and the consequences should you be unable to escape.

Frantic now as your mind wandered back to the feeling of someone watching you as you entered the party, you wanted to tell yourself to shut the fuck up when another round of words left your trembling lips.  "It was you?" you stated almost as a question as more pieces of this puzzle made themselves known to you.  "You sent the invitation.  Organized for Jamie to find me.  You were watching me at the party too.  Oh god," you shuddered out suddenly as a final thought revealed itself to you, "you left that cursed pumpkin for me to find.  You wanted me here."

Backing away from him now as you no longer wanted to hear anything he had to say, you finally took off at a run not caring where you were headed, but only made it three aisles over before a heavy body slammed into you and brought you to the ground.  Trying desperately now to fight him off but failing miserably given his power, size and the position you found yourself in, you might have feared for your life as a crazed looking Steve turned you over and brought his hands around your throat if not for the words that settled in your ears as his fingers started to squeeze.  "Rest easy now sweetheart, I'm not done with you yet and there's at least one person both of us know who will be overjoyed to find you here."

Clawing at his hands now as your vision began to blur and his words frightened you more than any revelation so far this night, your fingers eventually fell from his as the cold embrace of darkness finally claimed you and his satisfied smirk was the last concrete image your mind captured.

Regaining consciousness some unknown time later to find Steve with his back turned towards you staring into space, you might have been horrified by the fact that your body suit was all that remained on your frame now if not for the fact that being practically naked was not your worst condition.  Ignoring the super soldier who seemed to have taken leave of his senses, your eyes now took in the makeshift scene all around you and it was worse than the one before he choked you out.  Following the line of your limbs, you quickly discovered that the drapes that earlier fell from your hips now tied you down to what looked and felt like the base of a fourteen foot trampoline.  Which didn't bode well for you.

Determined as a result to remain as quiet as possible so as not to alert your unhinged captor, you pulled your arms and legs towards you and while there was some tiny movement allowed, the fabric didn't even tear.  Which only confirmed that you weren't going anywhere anytime soon.  Meaning you were now in serious trouble.  Tired now from all the exertion this information and running from Steve had cost you, you relaxed back down on your makeshift prison and figured it was maybe time to try and reason with the man responsible for your current situation since you had nothing else to lose.  “Hey Asshole,” you began as a means of grabbing Steve’s attention though you knew once again that your attitude had not been well received by the noticeable tension that seemed to settle in his shoulders, “you maybe want to tell me why exactly I’m tied down here.  Surely you’re not going to go so far as to sacrifice me?” you now asked and you hated yourself for the tremor you knew he must be hearing in your voice.

“Sacrifice you?” Steve now asked as he turned around to face you before jumping up onto the trampoline and kneeling down between your open legs.  “Oh sweetheart don’t be silly.  Jamie doesn’t practice that type of magic, but you will have to contribute … something,” he now answered and as his fingers began gliding over your bound figure you suspected that his next answer was not going to be something that was going to excite you.  Even if you hadn't been tied down.

Listening intently now as the terror began to build, Steve informed you that come midnight Tony and Nat would step through their blood soaked cardboard cutouts and rejoin the world they gave their lives for.  All that then had to be done to seal the resurrection spell was for the two of them … well in this case the three of them, to spend the next twenty-four hours ravishing each other's bodies and yours so Jamie could harness the energy of said couplings for whatever purpose she required.  Finishing off this revelation then by leaning forwards and placing a kiss against each covered breast, you wished you could headbutt him in retaliation but the other questions swirling in your brain took priority.

Plus there was the fact that your current position didn’t allow you the strength to inflict that type of damage on him.  Still, telling Steve in no uncertain terms that you would tell Tony and Natasha what he had planned, you also told him that he had to be even more deranged if he thought the flimsy drapes tying you down would remain strong enough to hold you for that length of time.  His answer to this remark however only served to  shock you even more.

Glancing at his watch now before releasing a laugh that sent a chill through your very soul, Steve now seemed to take perverse pleasure in settling his lips against your ear before explaining the lengths he and Jamie had gone through to secure your participation.  “Oh sweetheart, your little shopping trip to Jamie’s did more than enable you to purchase this delicious covering.  The drapes while looking flimsy to you are actually enchanted to hold you forever until one of us releases you.  And as for telling tales to Tony and Nat," he continued with a tsk tsk sound, “well … try to reveal anything too detailed about your participation or Jamie’s involvement and all anyone will hear is you moaning, pleading and begging to be fucked harder.”

Rising off the trampoline now and heading back to the spot he had previously been watching from, your mind began to swirl with everything he had just told you but as a whooshing sound now broke the silence settling around you and Steve again, this new development now told you that the time you had left with full control over your voice was just about up.  So with very little choice left available to you, you swallowed your fear and asked Steve the one remaining question that haunted you the most now.  “Steve, what happens to me after twenty-four hours?  Will I actually survive what’s coming?”

Torn between answering you now and giving his full attention to his two friends whose cutouts you just now noticed standing a few feet away, a quick glance at the shimmering effigies and his watch told Steve he still had some time.  It couldn't hurt then to give you another piece of information, right?  Sighing again at your persistence before turning back to face you, he simply told you now that you would indeed survive but all four of you would then be bound together forever and beyond.  Informing you also that the question and answer portion of the evening was now officially over, you would have protested this final statement vigorously if not for the skeletal hands you now watched emerging from the cutouts before you.

This shit couldn't be real.

Following your frightened gaze and high pitched screams now to also witness what you were seeing, Tony and Nat emerging through the blood soaked veils should have been a welcome sight except for what actually appeared in their stead.  Disheveled skin, protruding bone and wispy strands of hair, you now felt bone chilling fear for the first time in your life at the prospect of having these creatures anywhere near you.  But Steve it seemed didn't care.  Moving forward now one step at a time for every one they took in your direction, you ignored Steve’s actions and his previous comments and pulled harder against your bindings until a new phenomenon drew your attention to what was taking place before your eyes.

Craning your neck now around Steve’s considerable bulk, your eyes widened in utter disbelief as you watched the desiccated corpses of two people you thought you’d never see again somehow absorb the blood that previously covered their cutouts and complete their transformations.  Reaching their friend and former teammate then, Tony and Nat embraced Steve in all their former glory and as the three friends focused on their own reunion you now wondered how long you had until their attention fell on you and whether this transformation was real or simply an illusion.

Fearful now that the answer to this unvoiced question would end up being the latter, yet not liking the former prospect any more either, you foolishly tried once more to free yourself from your confinement until Tony separated from his friends and locked his gaze on you.  “Well now darling, aren’t you a sight these once dead eyes thought they’d never see again.  Capsicle you really have outdone yourself,” Tony now added as he walked away from Nat and Steve and closed the distance between you.  Feeling your heart now pounding in your chest the closer he got to you as Natasha helped Steve strip out of his clothes, Tony at last reaching the trampoline and placing his hand upon your ankle told you one thing at least.  This was no illusion.

Completely naked, warm to the touch and looking every bit as human as he had in life, the smirk you never admitted to loving graced his newly restored features once again as he watched your eyes travel down his impressive physique to settle on his equally impressive package.  It was better than your dreams.  Calling for the others now to hurry up, Steve and Nat standing beside him equally naked now left you feeling positively fully clothed in the bodysuit that moments earlier had felt like nothing more than a glorified swimsuit.  But you knew it wouldn’t last.  Watching now as their hungry eyes raked over your bound and covered form, all three heroes nodded silently to each other now before Tony joined you on the trampoline and ripped the bodysuit from you.  Begging now for them not to follow through with what they had planned, it was Natasha that set out to put your mind at ease.

“Princess please, look at you.  Look at us,” she continued as Steve and Tony reached out and helped her up on the trampoline.  Dipping ever so slightly now from the combined weight of all four of you as Tony remained between your legs while Steve and Nat rested on either side of you, the redhead licking a stripe along your neck made you cringe in disgust until she started speaking once again.  Then you wanted to vomit.  “Do you see Tony’s package princess?  Tell me you haven’t fantasized about it buried deep within your flower.  And what about Steve?” she asked, reaching across your body then to place her hand around his glorious erection.  “Imagine this rod splitting you apart as you beg the guys to fuck your brains out.  Not that we'll be able to hear you much with my pussy dripping all over that sweet and talented mouth of yours,” Natasha finished with a laugh before her lips crashed against yours and her tongue invaded your mouth and tickled your senses.

Drawing back to let both of you breathe then while letting go of Steve’s equipment, the three heroes exchanged looks once again as Tony now made room for Natasha between your legs while Steve moved closer to fondle your breasts and replace Nat’s lips with his own.  Fighting off Steve’s advances now as his tongue darted out against your lips but failed to breach your oral cavity, he finally managed to penetrate your defenses however when Natasha bent down between your legs and buried her head against your intimate area.  Moaning out then as her lips descended over your folds and began to lick and nibble an area no man or woman had ever touched orally before, Steve took full advantage of your slippage and gliding his tongue over yours began to seek out any participation from you on his end.

Squirming now to get away from Steve’s skillful hands and Natasha’s talented fingers and mouth, you actually lost control of your senses when Tony attached his mouth to Nat’s private area and sent her moans reverberating through your pussy in a sensation overload you had never experienced before.  One that made your head spin.  Grabbing a hold of the drapes now as you and Natasha were pulled apart, you couldn’t tell where you ended and Nat started and at this moment you couldn’t really care.  Feeling your orgasm growing stronger and stronger as Natasha's tongue and fingers continued to assault your core, Steve now suckling on your breasts while Tony worked Nat towards her own release confirmed all that they had told you ... it was going to be a fourway.

But it didn't end there.  Hearing a female voice chanting in the same language you had heard earlier, a cracking sound joined the slapping, slurping and moaning sounds coming from all four of you and you figured now that this was the energy harnessing part of the spell that Steve had previously mentioned.  At least you might have accepted that explanation had your mind been able to focus completely on anything other than the sensations currently pulsing throughout your system.  Biting along your chest now so that your mouth was free to give a voice to their efforts, moaning out now just like Steve had promised as their manipulations of your body continued to push you higher and higher, you cried out your release and created a vice-like grip on Natasha's fingers as a powerful orgasm ripped through you and threatened to knock you out once again.  But it wasn't going to happen.  Continuing to fuck you through your high as Steve now egged her on and Tony increased his eating out of the redhead sandwiched between the two of you, one more powerful, never-ending spasm starting in your head and thrumming downward towards your toes and you felt the dam burst.  Literally.  Squirting out all over Natasha's face as she in turn released into Tony's waiting mouth, all three heroes now smiled in satisfaction at the moisture leaking from you and dripping down Natasha's face.

Laying atop you now as Steve moved forwards to taste her release on Tony's face, you would have chosen that moment to close your eyes to the scene before you if the redhead didn't have other plans.  Moving her body along yours as the guys now watched in rapt attention, her bringing her lips against yours should have made you thoroughly repulsed but instead it turned you on.  And the words she uttered next just added to your overall confusion and humiliation.  "You taste wonderful princess, don't you think?  I'm glad I got to sample you first," she finished with a wink as she then flopped down beside you and began discussing with the guys how all of you should proceed from here.  Deciding it was only fair that Steve should get to taste your nectar next, Tony and Nat now snuggled up on either side of you as the super soldier made himself comfortable between your legs.  Feasting on your pussy then as Nat and Tony showered your upper body with nips and kisses, you actually began to wonder if Steve required any air to breathe at all as your body responded to his stimulations and his face seemed determined to breach your entrance.

Begging him to stop eventually as you couldn't take much more, an imperceptible look towards his teammates had Tony holding down your hips while Nat placed her lips over yours to easily silence all of your objections.  No longer able to do anything now but feel each and every sensation swirling through you, your body finally succumbed to Steve's unrelenting torture as wave after wave of unending pleasure crashed throughout your body and you at last surrendered to the multiple orgasms competing within you for the title of strongest one.  Pleased with himself now at the effect he had on you as he collapsed exhausted between your legs, you hoped now they would at least let you rest a bit before starting up again.  But this was not to be part of their plan it seemed.

Having followed the rule of ladies first and then rewarding Steve for all that he had accomplished so far this night, Tony had waited patiently to taste your honeypot. But it seemed his patience now had run out. Returning to their starting positions as Natasha whispered in your ear how she had never tasted anything quite as exquisite as your pussy, Steve devoring your mouth once again did nothing to distract you from Tony's mouth attaching itself to your dripping folds. Acknowledging now for the first time that Steve and Nat were clean faced, the feel of Tony's goatee against your oversensitive lips was an altogether different experience. As were his skills. Realizing now that the previous two heroes had pulled you apart without ever actually manipulating your clit, Tony's nibbling on your bundle of nerves along with the tingling burn created by his facial hair added a whole new sensation to the pulses taking place within your core and as every muscle in your body began to tighten you knew you were in trouble. This was shaping up to be your most powerful release yet.

Successfully pulling back from Steve's mouth now as the pressure began to build throughout your system, you fought as best you could against Tony's hold even though it was an action that ultimately proved futile. Adding his fingers now which then became a fist as his tongue, lips and goatee all continued to aggravate the nerve endings his friends had previously sparked to life, you this time welcomed the darkness that surrounded you as fireworks burst behind your eyes and what felt like electricity crackled everywhere from your head to your toes. You had never in your life come so hard and part of you hoped you never would again. It was beyond draining.

Releasing the drapes then that tied your now limp body to the trampoline, the heroes began to use you in earnest now as each of them took turns to become acquainted with all of your holes and each others.  Twisting and turning you now in ever more creative ways as each of them tried it seemed to outdo the other, all you could do now was try not to pass out again as one orgasm ended and another one began.  In fact, so coordinated and determined were they in their dominance of you that at one stage in this bizarre ritual with Nat sitting on your face while kissing Steve beneath you and Tony somehow also sampling Natasha's nether regions, both of the guys' cocks buried in your pussy at the same time had all four of you joined as one.  And it wasn’t the only time this happened.  Another time, Steve buried in Nat's ass and Tony buried in yours while you and Nat pleasured each other seemed to you like something out of a pornographic movie. But this too had actually been real.

Losing track of all the times each of you had come now as well as trying not to think about the consequences of all the loads the guys had deposited within your core, you suspected this part of your ordeal was coming to an end however as the crackling energy you vaguely remembered noticing earlier coalesced into a shimmering barrier surrounding the trampoline as Steve and Tony both released one final burst of cum each against your shuddering walls.  Exhausted now to the point of being nearly catatonic, yet also eternally grateful that you had indeed survived, your body covered and overflowing with cum could not shut off the new round of questions forming in your brain as Steve and Tony nestled against your sides while Natasha lay down between your legs and rested her head upon your stomach.

Breaking the silence to ask what their plans were now that the twenty-four hour sex marathon had secured their resurrection, no amount of thinking or deducing on your part could have prepared you for the answer Tony furnished you with however.  Informing you that a house had been secured in your name somewhere in time, all of you would live comfortably on a secret fortune that Steve had amassed while populating this new time period with the next generation of earth’s heroes.

Strenuously protesting this idea while simultaneously groaning at the thought of all the sex that would be required to accomplish this goal, Tony and Nat peppering your skin with kisses did very little to distract you however as Steve reached under the trampoline and retrieved a bag containing four time travel suits with corresponding GPS wrist straps.  Slowly backing away from their location now as you all dismounted the trampoline, arguing with Tony that this whole idea of starting over was beyond absurd as the three heroes proceeded to suit up, a stern look from Steve as he moved to block your escape attempt told you no more insolence on your part would be tolerated going forward.  Informing you then as he grabbed a firm hold on your shoulders that you could either get dressed on your own or be dressed, it was Nat now who tried to smooth things over by appealing to your gentler side.

"Princess, forget what happened these past twenty-four hours and listen to your heart.  Now tell us you don't want this.  This world believes us to be dead so we can't stay here, but elsewhere together a life with Tony, Steve and I awaits where you will be treasured beyond your wildest dreams," she finished and as all three heroes now stood awaiting your answer you simply countered by asking where the exit out of here was and would they even let you reach it.

Smiling at you now as Steve flat out told you you weren't going anywhere but with them, suiting up and following on as he led all three of you farther into the store and back to the storage area, all four of you then stood on the waiting quantum generator, synced up your GPS wrist straps and shot through the time portal to emerge in a wooded landscape with an impressive cabin decked out in all the splendor of the spooky season.  Resigning yourself now to the future they promised as Steve confiscated all four wrist straps, a change of clothes inside the house had you wondering how long you could survive this nightmare before you lost your mind and whether or not your new reality came with heroes that could offer some assistance.

Tagging: @jtargaryen18

[idkwhatever580]

Are you f****** kidding me?!

Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader

Prompt: y/n has very bad trauma with alcoholism in her family, so she never drinks. Natasha never pushes it and is always protective of her decisions but what happens when the boys play a little “prank”on y/n?

Warnings: trauma, ptsd in a way?, reader freaks out, getting drunk, spiked drinks, protective nat, swearing, mentions of sh, fake allergic reaction.

A/N: guys sometimes I’m not great at explaining things in the warnings. So I put a question mark lol. I hope y’all understand it though.

Y/n’s pov

Once again I’m at one of Tony’s parties. I think his excuse this week is his mom’s business partner’s daughter is having a birthday soon.

Whatever. There’s no point in actually caring it’s just another ploy for him to get drunk.

I usually leave before that time.

I start off my night with a water. I plan to finish the night with the same. Then suddenly Pietro comes up to me with Sam and says

“Hey y/n!”

I smile at him and notice he’s holding two drinks.

“Hey Piet. What are you doing?”

He smiles and says

“Bringing a drink to my favorite person.”

I roll my eyes at him. We get along because we like to prank people a lot. And play video games.

I frown as he hands me a drink and I say

“Piet you know I don’t drink”

He curses under his breath and says

“Oh right yeah! Let me take that and I’ll get you a virgin drink yeah?”

I nod my head and thank him as they both walk away. I guess Sam is just trailing along.

After a few minutes they come back and hand me a different drink and I say

“What is this?”

He looks at it and says

“A drink doofus”

I roll my eyes at his antics and say

“No I mean what’s in this drink?”

He looks at Sam and says

“It’s like a celcius!”

Sam agrees quickly and I say

“Oh. So like an energy drink?”

They both nod their head in unison and I smirk and say

“Thanks guys. You know I have a hard time with these things. Especially since nat is on a mission right now.”

Sam wanders off and Piet stays by me as I drink a few sips. It’s pretty good.

We talk a bit and Piet says

“How is that flavor? I have something else and I was just wondering.”

I smile and say

“It’s orange I think. Not the best but it’s decent.”

His eyes have a fire in them and he says

“Here! Why don’t I get you a different flavor?”

I nod and say

“I’m sure two wouldn’t hurt right? It’s only energy drinks and they don’t really affect me”

He nods and says he’ll be right back so I finish off my drink and wait for him.

When he comes back he has a slightly pink tinted drink for me and i immediately try it.

“This one is good!”

He nods his head.

I have about three of those drinks and I’m starting to feel great. My stomach hurts a bit but I feel fine.

And this girl is talking to me and her jokes are literally so funny. Like I have the giggles or something.

We start dancing and then I somehow end up with Wanda. We’re best friends but we are not leaving any room for Jesus. I usually don’t have this much fun at these parties.

Then I end up on a couch with another girl by my side and I’m just talking her ear off. She looks interested.

All of a sudden I get a rush of heat over my face. I just zone out trying to pinpoint what’s going on.

By now the girl has left and I see a flash of red come in my view.

“Y/n? Y/n detka focus on me. Where are you baby?”

My beautiful girlfriend Natasha pulls me from my trance and I throw myself on her and say

“Natty!!”

She lets me hug her and I get another rush of that feeling again.

She notices and says

“Are you alright?”

I nod my head and then think, and shake my head.

“What’s wrong detka?”

I lean on her shoulder as she sits next to me and I say

“I don’t know. I feel weird.”

Natasha looks at the table and sees three glasses and says

“Are those yours?”

I nod and smile

“Piet got me these three flavors of energy drinks. I can’t remember what he said they were called though. But he said they were like celcius”

She nods and grabs one of the glasses. She picks it up to her nose and smells it and sets it back down.

“Y/n you said you liked these? And you wanted them?”

I nod me head and say

“They were really yummy but I think they’re hurting my tummy a bit”

I pout and she looks to the side as if she’s scanning the crowd for someone. I follow her eyes and they land on Pietro and Sam who are giggling like teen girls. I slur out

“What are they laughing at natty?”

She looks to the side unsure of what to say and my eyes widen and I sit up. This realization has my mind sobered up a bit and I look at her with tears in my eyes.

“Nat? Is that alcohol?”

She bites her lip unsure of what to do but she nods her head and I say

“Pietro and Sam told me it wasn’t. They said they got me a virgin kind.”

She shakes her head and says

“I’m so sorry baby”

I shake my head and push her away. I immediately get up and walk off. I almost bump into a few people and I trip up a bit but not bad. I go straight to our room and Natasha decided to stay back to handle the perpetrators.

She makes sure Friday alerts her if I end up anywhere other than our room.

Nobody’s pov

To say Natasha was angry was an understatement.

She was furious.

She had to watch you storm off to probably go and cry because of what they did to you.

She stands up and brushes herself off. And then she calmly walks over to Pietro and Sam.

They say

“Oh hey nat! You’re back!”

Natasha smiles at them and says

“You wouldn’t happen to know what was in those drinks that you gave y/n would you?”

They shrug their shoulders and say

“What drinks? What are you talking about?”

Natasha is pissed so her patience is gone and she grabs them both by the ear and pulls them to the side of the room.

The noise isn’t any less quiet, it’s just out of the way.

And she goes ballistic.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Do you know what you did to her?! Everybody knows that y/n doesn’t drink because of her fears that she will end up like her father. She’s probably in our room now panicking about how she’s an alcoholic from three drinks!! And you!”

She points to Pietro

“You know better than to do that! You know she has problems. And you still did that! I should have the both of you banned from stark parties forever! You both intentionally spiked her drink! You two are literally dead!”

By now the room is silent from how loud Natasha is screaming at them. All eyes are on them but she doesn’t care.

“She was your friend and you did this to her! That is the ultimate betrayal and I wouldn’t blame her if she never wants to see your faces again! Get out of here. I don’t want to see you at another party! And I expect there to be ample apologies tomorrow!”

They nod and scurry off. Wanda is behind natashw now and she gives her a look as if she’s asking if they really did that to you and Natasha nods her head.

Wanda’s eyes glow red and she walks off in Pietro direction.

After Natasha knows they’ll be handled she smooths out her shirt and looks around at everyone gawking at her.

She raises and eyebrow and says

“Would anybody like to go with them?”

They all shake their heads and go back to partying.

Natasha goes upstairs to find you in your room.

She slowly walks up to your ball of a self and says

“Y/n? Are you alright?”

Apparently she chose the wrong set of words because you shoot up and say

“No im not alright! How can I be alright?! I’m literally drunk because I’m a lightweight and I feel disgusting because I liked it. And that’s why I never drink because I’m just like my father and I’ll like that shit and I’ll probably get hooked on it now!”

You are pacing back and forth and your breathing is erratic so Natasha goes up and grabs you and says

“Woah woah woah. Detka please calm down. You need to hear me. You are not an alcoholic from getting drunk once. You know that you don’t drink and that you won’t drink. Just because you liked the alcohol does not mean you are hooked okay? You clearly don’t like being drunk at all because it is hurting you.”

You are now just standing in Natasha’s grasp as she speaks to you.

“And you are most definitely not your father. You know now to not trust them with drinks anymore. Listen. I’m so sorry they did that to you. But you need to know it is not your fault. At. All. They spiked your drink knowing that you don’t drink for a reason.”

Y/n’s pov

I nod my head taking in all this information. And I tear up a bit.

“Hey hey don’t cry baby. It’s okay. It’s not your fault”

I shake my head as some tears start to fall and I say

“No no. I’m not crying because of this. I’m crying because you’re so good to me. Nobody would have reassured me like this except you. I just love you so much.”

We both smile and kiss each other and then we pull away because there is a knock at the door and I softly say

“Come in”

Wanda steps in and says

“Hey. How are you?”

I smile and say

“Still drunk”

I laugh and Wanda says

“Do you want me to get you a water?”

Natasha shakes her head and says

“We keep bottles of water in our room. I’ll grab her one.”

Wanda nods and says

“Right well I just wanted to let you know that I just got onto both their asses again and they are on probation for two months”

I furrow my eyebrows and say

“Probation?”

Wanda explains to me that probation is basically they don’t get any missions for two months. And she also added in there that they have to do my mission reports for that length of time too which is amazing since I hate mission reports.

“Wow Wands. That’s so sweet. Thank you”

She shakes her head and says

“No problem. Now I have one more question. They want to come in and apologize to you. Is that okay? I just want to check.”

I think about it and Natasha says

“You don’t have to agree detka. They can sulk in their rooms for now.”

I smile when I get a devious idea.

“What if you guys help me prank them back!”

They raise their eyebrows in concern and say

“What kind of prank?”

I think and say

“I can use my makeup skills and pretend I cut myself because of how bad my mind got!”

Their eyes widen and they say

“Woah there. That’s a little much.”

“Yeah Wanda’s right. Maybe a less intense prank?”

I sigh and nod my head. And then I completely forget about my idea when I say

“Wanda! You can use your powers to temporarily distort my face and body and we can prank them by saying I’m having an allergic reaction to the alcohol! Make them regret it even more!”

Wanda smiles and says

“I think that’s a good idea, but you’ve already had the alcohol in your system for a while. I think allergic reactions happen faster”

Natasha says

“They’re stupid. We can say it was a late onset reaction”

I nod my head aggressively. A little too aggressive though so I say

“Woah. Too much head shake there”

Natasha stabilizes me as Wanda says

“Alright. Why don’t you sit on the ground and I’ll work my magic?”

I sit down a little slowly so that I don’t get woozy or anything and while I’m waiting, Natasha gets me a water to help me sober up.

Wanda then distorts my face to look all red and blotchy and I get fake hives everywhere. I smile and say

“Nat. When were pranking them we can go in my bedside table and grab my old inhaler. I can use it to puff and it won’t do anything, and say I’m out!”

She nods her head. Anything to make me feel better.

And Wanda steps out and says

“I’ll be back with the boys.”

I giggle at my devious plan and Natasha says

“You’re gonna have to stop giggling if you want them to believe it”

I nod my head and get in serious mode. I lie myself in Natasha’s lap as she sits on her knees to pretend like she’s cradling me.

We here Wanda walking back and saying

“You better apologize and mean it”

They reply with a few “yes ma’am’s” and Natasha decided now is a good time.

“Wanda!”

She all but yells.

Thank goodness the party is still going so nobody else can hear.

Wanda runs in with Pietro and Sam hot on her tail and they see me.

Natasha puts on a facade that she’s freaking out and I make my breathing labored as if my lungs are closing up.

“Wanda! Help me out here! Y/n’s having an allergic reaction to the alcohol! I need her inhaler!”

Wanda jumps into action and says

“Where is it?!”

“In her bedside table”

Wanda runs to get it and only now can I see the boys. Their faces are ghostlike when they realize what they’ve done.

I fake puff the inhaler and shake my head. Natasha checks it and says

“Fuck.”

Pietro and Sam are now freaking out and saying

“Wait she can’t have an allergic reaction it’s been like forever!”

Natasha responds with

“It’s late onset and now her inhaler is empty! None of this would have happened if you didn’t spike her drinks!”

I gasp and say

“Epi… pen”

And Natasha remembers I have an epipen for if I get stung by a bee. And there’s a trainer in the bag so she grabs the trainer and they freak out.

She uses the trainer which does nothing but make a click sound and then she sighs as Wanda makes the reaction fade slightly.

They all sigh in relief and Sam and Pietro are the first to say something

“Y/n we’re so sorry. We had no idea this would happen!”

“Yeah we wouldn’t have done it if we knew!”

Natasha looks up and says

“But you would have done it even though you knew about her father?”

Their faces once again go like ghosts and I start laughing at them.

They’re confused and Wanda starts to giggle.

I hop up and say

“You idiots! We pranked you back!”

They stand there confused. Sam is the first to say

“But- but you used an epipen”

I shake my head and say

“That’s the trainer. It helps people know what to do in a real situation. The trainer doesn’t have a needle or medication in it”

He sighs and says

“What about your inhaler?”

I shrug and say

“Empty one. Doesn’t do anything anymore.”

Pietro is just silent and I say

“Aww Piet. Are you sad that I just pranked you?”

He shakes out of it and starts apologizing.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I know you didn’t have a reaction but I’m sorry because I didn’t think about why you don’t drink. I knew why but I ignored it.”

I sigh and say.

“I forgive you Piet. Just remember that we don’t do pranks that cause harm to someone.”

He nods and I turn to Sam

“And I forgive you too. Now both of you. I’d like to inform you that I have been letting my mission reports back up and I’m glad to tell you that you have until the end of the week to finish five of them”

They groan and say

“Yes ma’am”

I smile and they leave. I turn to Wanda and say

“Thanks fairy wand. You made me feel a lot better”

And I turn to Natasha and say

“Thank you too”

Wanda leaves and we get into bed (not without me putting up a fight) and Natasha makes me finish the bottle before I fall asleep.

“Thank you natty. You’re so good to me”

She smiles and says

“You’re a little devil when you’re drunk you know that?”

I smile and say

“Eh. I’ll be fine tomorrow”

She rolls her eyes and we fall asleep in each others eyes with Natasha knowing I’m gonna be worse when I’m hungover.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope y’all liked it! I kind of rushed it because I have a bunch of things lined up and this is just an extra tidbit I started before creating more lol

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo

[wrotethisat12]

Alone part 2

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: talk of sh (nicer), temptations to sh.

Please talk to someone if you feel like harming yourself. I really do care, please don’t read this if it will trigger you ❤️

Natasha left you alone.

Natasha left you alone with the blades.

You pulled yourself up from your curled-up position on the floor, grabbing the blades off the dresser. You stared, the heaviness of what you wanted to do crowding your brain.

should I..?

The box fell from your shaking hands, landing on the floor and popping open. The silver blades spilling out… landing so close to you.

You stepped back, but you would have rather stepped forwards. Come on, y/n. The blade…

-later-

“Nat?” You asked quietly, your voice squeaky as you stood in the doorway to the bedroom Natasha was staying in. “Can we talk? I- I’m really sorry.”

“yeah,” Natasha sighed, “let’s talk.” She patted the space beside her on the bed. you walked over and sat down there.

“I’m gonna be more honest from now on, okay?” You said, squeezing her hand. “We’ve had a lot of problems, but I think that if we both try, we can fix it.”

Natasha nodded. “I should’ve approached it differently, baby. I’m sorry.” She put her arms around you, and that was all it took. You launched yourself into her arms and started sobbing.

Once you calmed down, the two of you laid down on the bed, her arms around you.

“I’m really sorry for how i reacted. I know that it isn’t easy for you, and just trying is okay.”

“I really do wanna stop.” You said guiltily.

“okay. And I’ll help you, and I promise, I won’t get mad at you when you slip up.” She brought her thumb to your cheek and ran it all the way down to your chin.

You buried your face in her chest and she wrapped her arms around you. With Natasha your back while she felt you breathe, you knew that you would stay like that for a while.

And it was all fine again.

tagging: @natashaswife4125

[thewidowsledger]

Good Luck, Babe

Chapter 2: Debt

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Summary: The once secret, a forbidden love hidden from the world. Those stolen moments together had been thrilling, but ultimately, drove the person you trully love away from you. But when she left, she didn't just leave you; she also left you a part of herself that would constantly remind you of her for the rest of your life. This fragment of her essence became an indelible mark on your soul, shaping the course of your life in ways you never could have imagined.

You know what they say, when someone leaves, someone else will come.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Tags | Warnings: this is going to be a ride, ANGST, little fluff, custody battle, Natasha being a bitch (?) forced marriage

Author's Note: I know I promised a Wanda fic but I need to post this first…

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

3 years later…

Late one evening, Natasha found herself wandering the aisles of a quiet, upscale grocery store. Gone were the power suits and sky-high heels; tonight, she was clad in a simple hoodie and jeans, her hair hidden beneath a baseball cap.

She had booked a small, cozy airbnb for a week, craving solitude and anonymity during her brief vacation. As a wealthy businesswoman, she could afford any luxury, but tonight, she sought the comfort of anonymity. The store's peaceful atmosphere and lack of familiar faces provided the perfect refuge from her hectic life.

Unfortunately for Natasha, her younger sister, Yelena, possessed an uncanny talent for tracking her down. Two days into her secret vacation, Yelena appeared just outside the door of her small airbnb.

Natasha's journey to becoming a successful businesswoman began unexpectedly. As the lead guitarist of the college band, her passion for music was unwavering. However, fate intervened when her father, the CEO of a multinational corporation, suddenly passed away, leaving her in charge of the family business.

And of course, her dreams about music were all forgotten as she threw herself into learning the intricacies of the business world—her only way to cope after you.

“Hey, Nat! I’ll go get some toiletries.”

“Okay, I’ll get my yogurt.”

Natasha strode towards the dairy section, her eyes scanning the shelves for her favorite indulgence. She loved yogurt, but there was only one brand that truly satisfied her discerning palate. To her dismay, the shelf was bare, but there was still one remaining tub of the creamy, tangy delight.

Just as Natasha's fingers closed around the last tub of her favorite yogurt, a sudden, lightning-fast movement from behind startled her. Before she could react, a small, eager hand darted out and snatched the yogurt away, leaving her empty-handed.

When Natasha knelt down to the culprit's eye level, the small girl took a step back, suddenly looking uncertain. The yogurt was still clutched tightly in her small hands. The little girl tilted her head to the side, her innocent, wide-eyed gaze fixed on Natasha. Her long lashes cast shadows on her rosy cheeks as she blinked curiously, taking in the woman kneeling before her.

Without warning, the little girl eagerly toddled forward and threw her arms around Natasha's neck, burying her face in the crook of her arm. Caught off guard, Natasha hesitantly returned the hug.

“Mama,” the small girl whined.

“Oh sh—gosh, I'm so sorry about her! She's just a little rascal when she's excited!” A teen boy hastily approached, tugging gently on the girl’s arm. “Come on, Liah, leave the nice lady alone.”

The young girl hesitantly allowed herself to be pulled away from who she thought was her mama by the boy. She looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes, her lower lip trembling slightly.

“Sorry, miss,” the teen mumbled, keeping a firm but gentle grip on the little girl’s hand.

The teen paused, his brow furrowing as he stared at Natasha. “Wow, this is a bit awkward. You look exactly like...Liah.” He trailed off, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

“Liah?” Natasha echoed, taken aback. She glanced at the little girl, who was now timidly clutching the boy’s hand. “Is that her name?” The boy nodded, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“Yeah, Aliah, can you introduce and apologize to the lady right here?” The teen encouraged gently. The girl eagerly complied, turning to Natasha with innocent eager eyes.

“Awiah, mama, I Awiah mama…” she introduced herself, holding out the tub of yogurt, Natasha bit her inner lip, her heart aching as she looked at the little girl who is calling her mama.

“Hi I—”

“Liah, she’s not mama okay? Mommy is waiting for us outside.” The teen interjected quickly, giving Natasha an apologetic look and not letting her introduce herself. “I am really sorry miss, we’re gonna go now.”

Just as the two left, Yelena appeared at her side. She glanced down at her sister’s lost reaction. Suddenly, a curious expression crossed her features.

“That kid looks a lot like you.” She casually said as she hugged the rolls of toilet papers.

“You saw?” Natasha asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “The whole thing, I mean.” Yelena nodded, her brow furrowing with concern. “Yeah, Nat. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, let's checkout now,” Natasha dismissed and started walking to the cashier.

“Hey! Did you get your yogurt?” Yelena asked as she walked behind her sister.

“The kid got it, but it’s fine,” the redhead said quietly, trying to brush off the situation and avoid discussing it further.

⧗

“Hey, did you two get my tub?” you called out. To your surprise, both Billy and your daughter took off running towards you.

“Yes!” the boy shouted back, and your daughter lifted the tub of yogurt triumphantly as they neared your car. “We got it!”

You grinned widely, feeling relieved and appreciative. As the two reached you, you scooped Aliah into your arms, her tiny body warming against your chest. She eagerly showed you the yogurt, her eyes sparkling with joy. “You got it! Thank you so much, sweetie,” You cooed, giving her a gentle squeeze before addressing the teen. “And thank you too. I really appreciate it. Let’s go home?” You set Aliah down gently, and she clung to your leg, peeking out shyly at the boy.

You load the groceries into the backseat of the car, then secure Liah in her booster seat. While Billy sat beside her. Once everything is settled, you slide into the driver's seat and turn the ignition, starting the car and beginning your journey home.

“You guys took long,” you commented as you drove.

“Oh yeah, we stumbled into this lady who looked exactly like Liah,” Billy giggled, glancing back at the car seat where Aliah sat. Your daughter was looking through the windows as if she was deep in thought.

“Really?”

“Yeah, and Liah actually called her mama,” Billy continued, laughing heartily. “It’s so funny. The lady looked really surprised, though.” You felt a surge of curiosity, your grip tightening slightly on the steering wheel.

“Oh, that's...interesting,” you said awkwardly as you continued to drive with a feeling of unease.

Three years, three years had passed when you called the engagement off with Steve, not being able to bear the things you did behind his back throughout your relationship. Besides, he immediately picked up on your daughter’s features that she wasn’t his, he’s a celibate for fuck’s sake.

But he made sure you pay for everything you have done. He used his connections and influence to make sure you were passed over for the coveted law school you had poured your heart into getting into. He ensured your applications for every job you're going to get into were rejected. But his wrath didn't stop at your plans and dreams after you graduated. Steve came up to your mother, laying bare the truth of your infidelity and the circumstances surrounding your daughter's birth. And he made sure that your own mother would turn her back on you, disown you and cut off all contact with you—and she did.

In the last three years since everything happened, you had poured all your love and energy into raising your daughter, Liah. She’s three now, she is a vibrant ray of sunshine in your life. Her infectious laughter and innocent hugs helped soothe the ache of lost dreams and shattered relationships.

So you made sure to shower her with love, provide a secure and nurturing home. You are determined to ensure that she never feels the absence that plagues you, that your love is enough. You would go to great lengths to fill the void, never wanting her to suffer any absences in her life.

You had to start over because your reputation had already been irreparably damaged. You never blamed Steve for what he did, even though he had gone out of his way to deliberately ruin your life, you can't help but solely blame yourself for the situation. The guilt and self-reproach weigh heavily on you, blaming only yourself for the consequences of your own choices and actions.

Only if you weren’t a coward.

In a bid to start anew, you made a bold decision to move states, trading the life you knew for a fresh start. From being a once-admired student, you started as a cashier in a small grocery store, earning just enough to provide for your daughter. It’s a stark contrast to your former life, but your daughter’s well-being is your top priority, making your humble job a small sacrifice for her happiness and future.

Over time, through your hard work and perseverance, you have regained your footing, making commissions as an advertising sales agent. What you do right now is far from what you graduated but it no longer matters to you, each day, you strive to climb to the top, motivated by the desire to give your daughter a life you couldn't give yourself, not only planning to make it to law school again but making a new name for yourself to erase the mistakes of your past.

Make it to those people you owe. And there is one particular person you owe the most.

“Y/N, I can walk from my house since it's on the way.” You blinked rapidly, you shook your head to clear your thoughts and pulled over to the side of the road.

“Are you sure? I can drive you door-to-door Billy, I don't want you momma worrying.”

“Don't worry, I got it from here plus princess here looks really tired.” He poked the cheek of your daughter who is still looking at the window of the car, deep in thoughts like you awhile ago.

“Well, okay then. Same time tomorrow?” You asked, your eyes never leaving your daughter's as you look at her through the rearview mirror.

Billy grinned, “Of course, Y/N. You know I love spending time with your little munchkin. Where are you off to anyway?” He zipped up his coat, preparing to exit the car.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Work's been piling on more responsibilities lately. It's requiring me more time at work.” You gave him an appreciative smile. “Thanks, Billy. You're a lifesaver.”

You reached into your purse and pulled out an envelope containing the babysitting fee. “Here you go,” you said, handing it to him. “She needs to be picked up 3 hours early since their teacher said it's a shortened period for their class. So…it's not the same time for tomorrow.”

He noticed the worn edges of your wallet peeking out from your purse and the slight hesitation in your voice when you mentioned the time. “You know, Y/N, it's okay if you can't pay me this time, consider it a favor, no payment needed.” You felt a lump form in your throat, touched by the kid’s gesture.

“Billy, no, I can't ask you to do that for free,” you insisted, a hint of guilt in your voice. “I was supposed to go home an hour early today, but then work piled on more tasks, and now I'm late again…and so is my commission pay.”

The kid held up a hand, stopping your apology. “Y/N, it's fine, really, I understand. And I love spending time with Liah anyways.” Billy waved goodbye, turning to walk away. You hesitated, still wanting to argue, but he purposefully ignored you, shouting over his shoulder, “No, Y/N, you need the money. I'll be fine. See you tomorrow!”

You beeped your car, leaning out the window. “Come back here, young man!” But he just grinned, turning around. He walked backwards, facing Liah in the backseat, and dramatically made finger guns at her, pulling an exaggerated face that finally made your daughter giggle.

“Liah's pick up is 1 PM instead of 4 I know, Y/N, bye!” He laughed, giving you a wave before turning the corner and disappearing from your view.

You could only sigh, watching Billy leave. He'd been Liah's trusted babysitter. He is a teen from your neighborhood. Billy was a sweet, responsible kid with a heart of gold. Despite his own financial struggles for university, he never once let it affect his care for Liah. And you have never been grateful for the kid.

⧗

Once home, you heated up some leftovers for dinner, sitting down with Liah at the tiny kitchen table. She quietly ate her chicken nuggets, still not having spoken much since from the grocery store. You were unused to her prolonged silence. “Aliah, sweetie, thank you for the tub. Mommy is happy.”

The kid just gave you a tight-lipped smile, swinging her feet as she ate.

“Did something happen, sweetie? Mommy is worried.” Liah shook her head again, still not speaking. You sighed deeply, knowing you probably shouldn't ask but your curiosity was getting the best of you.

“Liah, is it true you saw someone who looked like Mama today?” Her eyes widened and she nodded vigorously, practically bouncing in her seat.

“No! She is mama mommy!”

“Really?” you hesitated, not wanting to asked further. You shut your eyes closed, biting your inner lip, your mind drifting back to your past...you opened up your eyes looking at your little girl who looked exactly like her, a name you don't want to mention as of now not until you had any confirmation.

“What did she look like, baby?”

Liah hopped off her chair and scurried over to the mantle, grabbing a framed picture you always kept displayed. She brought it back to you, presenting the photo you always see before you go out and comeback from work.

Since her disappearance, you never hid the truth from Liah. You told her that her mama was just working really far away and would be coming home soon—you never removed her from the picture in Liah's life. You wanted your daughter to grow up believing she had a complete family. You spoke of her often, shared stories and memories, humming the same music she used to sing to you when you sleep on her arms—always presenting her as a loving mother who would return someday.

Your heart was racing, nerves fluttering in your chest as Liah pointed at the photo. It was a photo of you together, her arms wrapped around your neck. “She is mama, I saw mama,” your little girl said, from not speaking a word a while ago, now, she is joyful, pointing at the photo of her mama.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you realized the implications.

She saw her mother. She saw Natasha.

Liah was far too innocent to lie about something like this. She believed with all her heart that she had seen her mother, and you knew she wasn't mistaken. Natasha was out there, somewhere, and she had somehow come face to face with her daughter.

The realization sent shivers down your spine and that has led you to this very moment…

“Natasha, please, you can't take Liah away from me!” you cried out, running after her as she stormed out of the courthouse. You have been summoned to the court, delivering the devastating news that Natasha was pursuing full custody of your daughter.

Natasha didn't know Yelena did a secret investigation after she saw the kid that she told her looked exactly like her, she even forgot about it days after the encounter. But when Yelena came to her and told her what she found out, that the kid was in fact yours, it led her to uncover the truth—the kid was also hers and everything can be figured out only from that fact.

You wanted to argue, to present a denial, but the truth was plainly obvious. Liah looked exactly like Natasha, her carbon copy. If the court demanded a DNA test, it would be the end of you, you might also probably serve some time in jail.

So in your desperation, you resorted to begging, pleading with Natasha for mercy.

“N-Natasha…please!”

She walked briskly away, her face expressionless, she didn't bother to look back at you. You chased after her, your steps urgent as you pleaded, “Natasha, please, let’s work something out. Wh-what about shared custo—”

“I want full custody.” Her voice was steady, leaving no room for negotiation and immediately cutting you off. “The next hearing is in a week. Don’t bother showing up if you can't match my offer.” Her heels clicked harshly against the marble floor as she continued her inexorable march away from you. Each step she took echoed with finality. Your words seemed to bounce off her back, unheard, unimportant.

But you will do anything, you will meet the ends not to be away from your life—from your daughter.

“Please, you can't just take Liah from me. There must be another way!” Your voice cracked, desperation clawing at your insides.

“Marry me.”

“I’ll marry you!” you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them. The courthouse fell silent, and a few people turned to look at the two of you. A tear slid down your cheek as the magnitude of your words sank in.

Natasha looked at your tear-stained face, your pleas are already music to her ears and she took her time taking in the sight of your desperation with a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes.

“It’s settled then,” she declared, her voice carrying a new same authority she had on you. “In a week, same courthouse, not for custody battle but for our wedding.”

[silhouetteonpaper]

The Cycle of Grief

Summary: When your brother passed away, the only person you could blame was yourself. Now that the grief has consumed you, there’s only one thing left to do. But what happens when a certain someone threatens to spoil your plans? Natasha Romanoff x Reader WC: 1,462 Warnings: Running away, grief, mentions of sibling death, veryyy angsty

Under the dark cover of night, you slip through the tall glass doors of the compound with quiet footsteps. Your heart is full of grief; there’s not a thought in your mind making you want to stay any longer. You don’t want to be a burden, and it’s always easier to isolate yourself than to ask for help. How is anyone supposed to help you anyways?

The deep blue night sky is freckled with stars, and you can’t help but take a moment to admire them. It reminds you of the time when you and your brother would sit out in an empty field and point out constellations. You never thought much of it at the time, but now everything inside you yearns for just one more moment with him—one more chance to sit and stargaze with the person you loved most.

But he’s gone now, killed in battle after you begged him to fight alongside you and the rest of the team. It’s all your fault. So, the only thing left to do now is to run; far away from the compound, far away from the life you once shared with your other half. Because now it’s too empty without him.

The backpack slung over your shoulder contains anything you might need for the journey ahead; from snacks, to clothes, to a pistol you stole from the training room—just in case. You don’t know where you’re headed, but you don’t care as long as it’s far away from the shattered pieces that now linger here at the compound.

All those days spent training alongside your brother, all those times he kept you motivated to be the Avenger you so desperately wanted to be. And for what? To kill him in return? There’s blood on your hands, and you can’t just wash it off.

The soft sound of your sneakers on the concrete fill the silence of dusk. The distant view of the city skyline makes you swallow thickly; you don’t hate many things—but you won’t hesitate to feel hatred toward this city. Towards the Avengers. Towards yourself.

The dark silhouettes of oak trees tower over you as you near the edge of the driveway. Several jets sit unattended on the small tarmac, but you know better than to take one. Not only would the loud engine wake everyone up, but each one has a tracking device. Your exact path pinned up for everyone to see doesn’t really support the whole ‘disappear’ part of your plan.

As you begin to trek down the long road ahead, it’s hard to stop your mind from wandering. A cacophony of what if’s steal your attention. Maybe, if you weren’t such a try-hard, he wouldn’t have died. How did you ever believe you could be a superhero? Superheroes don’t kill their own. If you had just agreed to let him stay home, he’d still be alive. It’s all your fault.

You’re so lost in your despair that a sudden noise makes you flinch. “You have ten seconds to explain what you’re doing here.” A voice appears behind you, the dissonant thoughts now scrambling away. You turn abruptly, a scowling face with red hair greeting you. It’s Natasha.

“Going for a walk, leave me alone.” You brush her off, turning back on your charted path. The last thing you need right now is for another Avenger to give you some speech about how great you are, how you’re destined to be a hero. Last time they said that, you ended up killing your brother. Those words are just empty lies now.

A part of you expected Natasha to relent, but you know better than to doubt the most headstrong woman you’ve ever met. She doesn’t speak, but instead walks alongside you in silence. You eye her with furrowed brows, and she seems unbothered while gazing at the tall trees and starry sky.

“What are you doing?” You question, slightly picking up the pace. She matches your speed easily.

“You said you’re going for a walk,” Natasha shrugs. “Am I not allowed to join?” Now you understand, the Widow knows something’s up. It was naive of you to believe you could fool her. Everyone knew how close you were with your brother, it’s only natural that when he died you’d be beside yourself. But what you hoped no one saw was the undying urge to run. Maybe if you ran far enough, you could forget any of this ever happened.

“I just want to be alone, please Nat.” You breathe, using everything in your power to stay calm. You can’t show your anger, that would only make her even more suspicious of your plans for tonight.

She’s silent for a moment. “Why, so you can sit in self pity?” Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. Natasha’s always been blunt, valuing tough love instead of coddling. But right now it stings even more than usual.

“So I can think. Just get some air and clear my head.” You partially lie. That’s practically why you’re running away, to fully clear your head of this nightmare. You just left out the ‘never coming back’ part.

“No, you’re running from your problems.” Natasha states without even looking your way. Your heart skips a beat, does she know? You don’t want to give yourself away, so you opt to dance around the subject.

“I’ll deal with my problems how I want. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of night air and some alone time.”

She chuckles, which makes the anger rise inside you. How is any of this funny to her? “There’s a difference between dealing with your problems and locking them away forever. There’s a difference between alone time and full isolation. You can’t live like this.” She stops walking, turning to face you.

You slow down, avoiding eye contact. You try to speak, but she’s not done yet. “I know you lost someone extremely important, but you can’t let yourself suffer just because he had to.”

“If you’re going to tell me that this isn’t what he’d want, I don’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to fight that day and I made him!” You cry out, the tears brimming in your eyes. For a split second, you can almost see a matching glint of mist in Natasha’s eyes under the moonlight.

“You blame yourself.” She says softly. You can hear the pang of heartache in her voice.

“I do,” You admit with tears now rolling down your cheeks. “I know you do too, for everything in your past. But you can’t use that as a reason now, not for this.”

“I’m not saying it’s the same, I’m saying that you don’t have to confine yourself to a life of misery. Just because he’s dead doesn’t mean you have to be too.” All the air in your lungs suddenly disappears. The anger, the grief, the overwhelming-never ending terror—it all washes over you at once.

Sobs escape your lips as your knees buckle beneath you. Natasha’s right there, grabbing your arms as you both lower to the ground. He’s dead, but that doesn’t mean you are too.

As your world continues to crash down, you see the reality of what you were planning to do. Running away to some far off city, to do what? To sulk, to isolate yourself, to sit in sorrow for the rest of your life? That’s as close to dead as someone can get while still being alive.

You don’t know how much time has passed when the initial tsunami of emotions finally subsides, but you find yourself buried into Natasha’s chest, her arms wrapped around you tightly as her hand caresses the back of your head.

Sniffing away the remaining tears, you think about moving—standing up and walking farther and farther away from any sign of support or love. But you don’t. It feels too good. After weeks without it, you long for it. You didn’t even know that what you truly needed was right in front of you this whole time.

So, you sit in silence. You let Natasha hold you. And you let yourself stay stationary, feeling the emotions you’ve suppressed for days on end. Because you don’t need to run when all you need is right here with you.

After a while, Natasha shifts. “Why don’t we get into bed?” She proposes, still refusing to be the one to pull back first. The idea of laying down and turning your mind off sounds wonderful, so you nod. 

As you stand up with Nat’s help, she looks at you with a saddened smile. “I’m glad you’re choosing to stay. I don’t know what I’d do if you ever left.”

She’s known this whole time, and you’re not even surprised.

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Multitudes Chapter One - The Sins of a Spider...

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Please read the tags, and proceed with caution. Disclaimer - this work is a reflection of our own experiences with negative self-image, self-harm, eating disorders, and suicidal ideation. It is not a portrayal of any other individual's experiences and should not be taken as such. Natasha Romanoff was subjected to horrible things from others as a child. Natasha Romanoff was subjected to horrible things from others as an adult. And now, Natasha Romanoff is subjected to horrible things by her own mind. The mind is never quiet, and she may never escape. CW: unhealthy attitudes to food and exercise, negative internal voice, self-harm.

Check it out below, or on AO3 here! This snazzy divider comes from @firefly-graphics and I love it <3 Next Chapter (2/72) ->

Natasha Romanoff.

Renowned assassin.

Expatriate of Soviet Russia.

Fucking disaster.

I growled at my reflection, wholly dissatisfied with the person I saw in the mirror.

“How are you ever supposed to be of use?” I muttered under my breath, digging my fingernails into the bare, expansive flesh on the back of my arms, the edges falling into semi-permanent ruts formed through similar ministrations.

“Natasha? Nat, come on. We’re almost back at base.”

My partner’s knuckles rapped smartly on the pokey bathroom door, and I rolled my eyes, releasing my grasp on myself.

If I didn’t love Clint so much, I’d throw him from this goddamn jet.

The quinjet didn’t give much room for emotional breakdowns – particularly with my well-meaning, but overly invested, teammate aboard.

By the time I slipped from the bathroom, tight leather pressed firm to the gouges in the back of my arm – fat/disgusting/fat/notenough – the jet was already in its descent, the sprawling complex that constituted the Avenger’s Compound spread before us.

“Everything ok?” Clint pressed, knocking his knee with mine to draw my gaze. I nodded once, wordless, and he frowned with concern as I looked away once more.

What was I supposed to tell him? That he saved me all those years ago – but that I still thought of running back? That, every day, it got harder and harder to resist the call to the predictability, the safety, I knew was waiting for me?

No, I noted, an imperceptible shake of my head clearing the thought before it could fully form. Clint can understand many things… But he could never understand this.

He was, mercifully, the one most accepting of my silences – knowing without words that sometimes, I just needed the quiet, needed some time. He never pushed me into speaking, content to either leave me to my silence, or else communicate through sign language, when I was willing and able. He never asked, and I never offered, but I knew how he looked at me. How they all looked at me.

Fucking disaster. 

It was in that way that I found myself sat at a table full of my rambunctious teammates, each speaking louder than the next. I couldn’t help the weak smile that tugged at my lips as I saw Clint reach up surreptitiously, turning off his hearing aids with a wince. The others rarely noticed this motion, but I found it impossible to miss – he had, in some ways, a superpower, and it was one I had found myself envious of on more than one occasion. I could speak, or not speak – but I couldn’t turn off all of the sound, too.

It was always quiet there.

That’s not true. Sometimes… Sometimes it was very not quiet.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the images flashing before my eyes – hands on soft thighs, whip lines on soft backs – my nails unconsciously seeking the backs of my arms, stopping just short as I remembered where I was.

When my lids parted once more, it was to the aquamarine of Clint’s gaze boring into mine.

What? I signed indignantly, irritated by the puppy-like concern on his face.

Are you okay? he asked, barely recoiling from my palpable annoyance. I nodded sharply, tired of his watching. It seemed more and more common these days – the closer and closer I got to fleeing. I pushed my chair back from the table, effectively silencing the din of the collected men.

“You good, Nat?” Tony asked, chopsticks paused halfway to his open mouth, the noodles sliding slowly in their own juices and making my stomach roil.

“Don’t feel well. Early night,” I muttered, inclining my head toward my own, mostly-full plate. “Help yourselves.”

The group of men – boys, really, if their bad manners were anything to go on – paused only as a courtesy, waiting for me to step away before falling upon my discarded meal. Only Clint stayed sat back, and I could feel his eyes on me as I left, scanning the soft curves of my body.

No doubt thinking that you could afford to miss a meal or two.

My wristwatch flashed in alarm, vibrating harshly – an alert, a warning, but it only pushed me to run harder, further, faster. I knew my body; weak as it was, it could handle a few minutes at a pulse rate in the two hundreds.

By the time I skidded to a halt, dirt spraying up around my feet, I was dripping with sweat, my hands shaking. I couldn’t help but glance once more at the watch, finding a sick, perverse pleasure it watching the numbers stutter and struggle to drop. They stayed raised longer each time, now – no doubt a testimony to how shitty I’d gotten, how poor I’d become at maintaining my training, but I couldn’t help but think of the extra calories burnt during that prolonged period of tachycardia.

1,343.

Not enough. Run faster. Run further.

I nodded obligingly to the duality in my head, an obedient servant, tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth through dehydration and mutism as I kicked the speed back up.

Sweat stuck the suit to my back, clinging the suffocating leather to my suffocating flesh, but I didn’t dare slow down. I’d been too lax for too long, and finally, finally, I had someone who could bring me back up to scratch. How could I even think about disobeying?

That’s right, you disgusting creature. You owe me everything. I’m the reason that they might not kill you when they get you back. Don’t be ungrateful.

I nodded again, spurring myself on to the backing track of insults. Who needs music when you have your own mind? I noted dryly, letting out a soft, strained chuckle.

I’d pushed too far before I had chance to realise it.

I should have known, really. I should have been able to tell by the lightness in my feet, my bones hollow as a bird's.

The highs were always the highest right before the fall. It was a lesson I’d been taught time and again, but still too stupid, it seemed, to actually learn anything.

It was in that way that I became distantly aware of my body crumbling, this useless sack of flabby flesh, soft and undisciplined, giving way beneath me as my mind was enveloped in impenetrable fog.

The gravel flew up to meet me, fingers barely splaying beneath my face in time to prevent a broken nose, and I rolled with the impact, finding myself sprawled on my back, vision dark around the edges as I panted.

It was here that Clint found me, his brow creased with concern and he lent over my body, sweat pouring from my forehead, fitness tracker beeping with alarm.

[munariplans]

Hiii thank you for updating on your recent story! I enjoyed it!!💓 could I request Natasha x reader in a situationship & there’s a avengers wedding and they both get invited separately only for reader to see Nat in a different way and suddenly realised they had feelings all this time for her 🥹

the arrangement | natasha romanoff

synopsis: based on the request above!

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 5.6k words

a/n: i really do have a fondness for writing pining and angst, enjoy hehehehe

masterlist

in a rare instance in the years you’ve known natasha, it was her that awoke first that morning, shaking you awake as yelena pounded on the door to her room.

“hey, hey,” natasha whispered-yelled, prompting you to get up while opening your eyes blearily, “you have to go. yelena’s here.”

yawning, you gave her an “OK” signal as you gathered your surroundings. you had once again fallen asleep in her room after last night. gathering your clothes and fixing your hair then, you spared a look at her mirror first before leaving, and what you saw almost made you want to laugh out loud. 

“how the fuck did you manage to cover me in this many hickeys?” 

natasha turned to you, halfway through freshening herself up as well. the redness in her cheeks grew prominent as she saw the many purple and red bruises littering all around your neck. cursing, she threw you a turtleneck from her wardrobe and pointed at the window. yelena was asking her why she was taking so long now.

but just before you climbed out, she thought about it, and risked it for a few more seconds, before pulling you in to press a kiss to your lips. “that girl that was hitting you up at the party last night was being annoying. had to show her you weren’t interested.”

you grinned, shaking your head at her ridiculousness. 

and right as you shut the window and slipped out, yelena barged in and threw her several wedding dress options onto natasha’s bed, demanding for her sister to decide which one looked best. but natasha hated to admit she was still distracted from the way your ass swayed right as you sultrily sneaked out of her window. 

–

later that same afternoon, you were walking with your friend, accompanying him ring-shopping, when the question first came up. 

“aren’t you ever interested in marriage? or, at the very least, finding a partner?” he half-joked. everyone knew you had been single for a while now. “we’re not so young anymore, you know.”

in response, you shrugged. “i don’t see a point.”

“in loving someone?”

“in being with someone, at all. the domesticity, the mundaneness, it’s all so…boring, after a while. i don’t see why you, and so many others, would want to be tied down by all of that, forever.”

“...so you don’t see a forever?”

“right now, with just one person, i don’t,” you said, your eyes drifting off to the street across, where a girl in braids of red hair reminded you of a certain someone you had begun sleeping with in the past few months. 

–

you called natasha on the way home, asking if she had company for the night, and if not, whether she wanted yours. 

she replied that she was frustrated, and that yelena was being a bitch about her wedding planning. natasha had insisted that a band would have been a better musical accompaniment, yelena had wanted to allow tony and clint to get drunk enough to sing for her.

you came to yelena’s rescue, apparently. because right as you arrived right back at natasha’s apartment, where the two women were clearly at each other’s throats and yelena had literally picked up a butter knife to threaten her sister, you caught natasha from lunging at her and wiping the stupid smirk off her face entirely. she thrashed in your arms, but with a few reassuring words and a promise to let yelena have a taste of her own medicine later, she relented. 

“can you believe how stupid she is sounding? wanting the drunkards to sing for her?!” natasha pointed out then, to which yelena took offence once more. 

“i’m sorry i want my wedding to be fun!” she screamed, “you can’t help it if god made your sister boring!”

“why, you–”

you held natasha firmer by your side, at the feeling of her nearly jumping to strangle her sister. “–natasha, enough. let it go.”

“she was being–”

“–it’s her choice, her wedding. let it go, will you? we can discuss this another time, when you two are less…riled up,” then, you leaned in closer, and whispered, “if you behave now, i’ll let you try fucking me against the glass of that window you like seeing me escape out of so much later.” 

her breath hitched, you knew you had struck a deal with natasha. she backed off, and even stopped herself from retaliating at yelena’s middle finger and stuck-out tongue.

but when yelena had left for the day and the two of you were alone, natasha found herself being strapped to the passenger seat of your car, as you drove her to her favourite ice cream parlour nearby.

a pout on her face, natasha asked as you parked, “i thought we were going to have sex after she left.”

you nodded understandingly. “we are, but i think i need to cool you down with ice cream first. i don’t want to get myself injured from your wrath with yelena earlier.”

the truth had been because you thought natasha needed a space to calm down and process her feelings first, and not to bottle it up and shove it away from sex. plus, you thought that the treat would cheer her up a little as well, putting aside how hot you found angry sex was with natasha.

of course, with your little quip, you could only expect natasha elbowing you as hard as she could, as you laughed and opened the door for her to the parlour.

–

“they have a new flavour here,” natasha pointed against the display, “apple pie.”

“you won’t like it.” you thought about natasha’s preferences for ice cream, and while they were boring, they were safe. “they have your usual today.”

but she took it as a challenge, apparently. “i’m going to try it.”

and as the cashier took both your orders, natasha noticed you place an order for her usual flavour. while it was odd that you would deviate from anything even remotely far from cookies and cream, she chose not to speak of it. 

you watched as natasha took her seat in front of you, then taking one bite of her apple pie scoop, before her face morphed into one of doubt, then slight discomfort, and finally, disgust. still, she tried to hide it from you, putting on a straight face as you asked her how it tasted. 

“fine,” she said, but her disdain said otherwise. 

in response, you smirked, offering her a bite of your own scoop. she was persistent in not wanting to at first, but as you offered her again, she took a bite, then another, and another, and oh well by that point you had given her your entire scoop and taken hers away from her. 

you tasted the apple pie scoop. it had cinnamon, something natasha clearly disliked. there was no wonder, you thought, smiling to yourself as you watched her finish the last of her usual order of vanilla with chocolate sprinkles. 

–

you were at the bachelor’s party of yelena’s fiancé when natasha’s call came in. she had dropped you a string of drunk texts that night, a product of her own consequences from attending yelena’s bachelorette party.

“hello, natty?” you answered, moving away from the noisy atmosphere of the club to a secluded side. you caught the groom giving you a confused look, you gestured that it was natasha on the line, and he gave you a weird smirk. 

“hellooo,” she drunkenly slurred. in the background, you could hear yelena asking for more shots. “my lovely, lovely, friend. where–are–you? i want to go home nowww…”

you moved further away from the club, bringing your phone closer to your ear. “i’ll come pick you up. are you sober enough to text me the address?”

just then, the phone was brought to maria’s side, and you could hear her shrieking for natasha to let you enjoy the party, and that there were designated drivers to bring her home if she needed to. natasha yelled back that she wanted you to come pick her up. 

you got the address from the groom, as he and the other people in the party boo-ed you for leaving so soon. you still had a line of shots to finish and a karaoke match that you would be missing, but you had already picked up your jacket and began finding your car keys to pick up natasha then. 

when you found her, she was slumped over the bar counter, in a conversation with the bartender, who was clearly wanting to serve the other customers to earn his keep. you approached, and natasha immediately went to your side as she hung off of you, smiling from ear to ear. her smile made your own lips turn up in amusement. 

“are you the one she’s been talking my head off all night?” the bartender asked, and you chuckled. 

“i guess so,” you thanked him for taking care of her, and left the bar after saying a round of goodbyes to the people in yelena’s party as well. 

– 

you helped natasha to the passenger seat of the car, but right as you reached over her body to help fasten her seatbelt, her hand caught your wrist, forcing you to look up at her. 

her eyes met yours, and in a clear split second of momentary sobriety, you saw sincerity in them. she whispered, “you’re so pretty,  i think i might be in love with you.”

you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled in your throat, as your first reaction was to snicker, then look away from her. then, when you heard her groan behind you, the snickers became full-blown chuckles as you laughed in her face at the drunken confession. “oh, i have so much blackmail material against you when you’re drunk.”

natasha hit you frustratedly as you returned to the driver’s seat, but you caught her hand as you continued, “you’re drunk, natasha. you’re saying things you don’t mean.”

you helped her out of the car again as you reached her apartment, her leaning her body on yours as she stumbled finding her way through the building. using the extra set of keys she had given you, you unlocked the door and set her down on her sofa. 

guiding her to her bedroom, you felt natasha’s hands then start travelling up and down your body, and while in any normal circumstance you would have indulged her, and perhaps initiated more, you knew she was drunk. you weren’t going to be the asshole who took advantage of their friend, with benefits, when it was unclear even to her what she was doing. 

you removed her hands, and let her lie down on the bed. she pouted. “do you not want me?” 

she saw you disappear into her bathroom for a minute, before returning with her toiletries. “i do. you know i always do. just not when you’re drunk.”

“but i want youuu,” she slurred, “and i’m so horny nowww.”

you smirked, but still refused. instead, you rested on top of her, slowly removing her false eyelashes, then wiping off her makeup, and finally helping her carefully wash her face. she sighed at the gentle massage and warm water. “you know, anyone else would have said yes. anyone else would have been dying for natasha romanoff, me, to sleep with them like this.”

“but i’m not anyone else, aren’t i?” you quipped, taking off her clothes and rejecting yet another advancement for her to take yours off as well. you went to her dresser to find her pyjamas. 

natasha rolled her eyes, turning her body away from you as you dressed her up again in protest. you smiled to yourself at her cuteness, tucking her in and pressing a kiss on her forehead. “tomorrow, when you’re sober and still up for it, call me. i’ll be here right away.”

she watched you place a strip of advil and a glass of water for her hangover tomorrow, before gathering your things again. “...you’re not going to stay? where are you going?” 

drunk natasha really was clingy natasha, you thought. “i have another hookup i need to get to. need to make the most of my nights, you know?”

in truth, you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries you and natasha had set up for yourselves when you first got into this…arrangement. she was clear on not wanting any feelings to be involved, and with how things were turning out tonight, you were afraid that if you stayed, there would be a blurring of some lines from her end on her feelings; lines that she would reenforce the morning after even more strictly. and while you didn’t generally have a problem with that, you had felt that you had gotten natasha to lower her walls down enough to enjoy your company beyond your flings; you didn’t want to risk all that just for a night where she could possibly tell you her drunken feelings about you. you treasured your friendship too much for that. 

and so you left, leaving natasha slightly stung and hurt with the implication that you had someone else, or a lot of someone elses, waiting for you if she wasn’t sleeping with you, and strangely, it affected her more than she thought it would, even drunk as she was. watching you leave, she thought selfishly about how she hadn’t slept with anyone since she began sleeping with you, so was it only fair that you had the decency not to as well?

but you and her were just friends, she had to remind herself. it was not like she had power to dictate who you were seeing, and who you slept with, anyway. it was not like you two were exclusive, or in a relationship at all, which was precisely what natasha hadn’t wanted at the start. now, she was wondering why she even uttered those words at all. 

little did she know, you were doing nothing of the sort. instead, you had gone straight home, put up a romantic comedy on the TV, heated yourself some leftovers, and sighed as you pondered over your own early end to the night.

– 

everyone who knew you and natasha, knew however, that whatever relationship you two had, was more than just friends. that the two of you had crossed the line of just friends about twenty late-night hookups and rendezvouses ago, no matter what either of you claimed about the other. 

it was clear in the way you cared for natasha more than any other friend you had, it was clear in the way natasha sought out for you more than she even initiated a conversation with anyone else. 

which was what made it so incredulous; that you would allow anyone else try to court natasha before you did. 

everyone had warned bucky that what you and natasha shared was more than just a surface friendship, and relations ran deeper than what he thought was possible. but still, it didn’t stop him from taking your own words against yourself, and confronting you about it one day.

“you’re just friends, right?” he asked haughtily, interrupting you as you were helping yelena sort out the final touches to her wedding venue arrangement. you dismissed him with a quick grunt and agreement. 

but he followed you. “then you wouldn’t mind helping me get to know her, would you? or better, helping her fall for me?”

you paused in that moment, yelena, overhearing the conversation, consequently giving him a weird look as well. surely not, she thought, turning her attention to you, but you seemed to contemplate his request. 

and she nearly choked in disbelief, when surprisingly, you agreed to help him out in chasing natasha.

you shared with him that natasha’s birthday was approaching, and when he asked what kind of gifts she would like, you wanted to say something small, heartfelt. but then you realised it was probably only in your case she would like it so. from anyone else, you thought she deserved the world. 

“something big, extravagant,” you told bucky, “natasha deserves only the best, you see.”

he happily lapped up any information you gave him about natasha, the person who knew her best. 

and when her birthday did arrive, you watched by the sidelines as bucky shyly presented his gift to her, an outlandish, extravagant display of just his infatuation for the woman. everyone had thought it was well-thought out, very well suited to what she liked, and you patted yourself on the back at the comments. it was you, after all, who had accompanied bucky to get her gift. 

natasha looked flustered, admittedly, at the surprise of someone knowing what she wanted so well. it wasn’t everyday that she told the people around her what she wanted for her birthday, after all. and to think about it, she had only told you, of her wishlist upon her birthday. 

when she found a moment with you alone that night, as the party winded down and everyone began to leave, she was interrupted by bucky hanging around foolishly, almost as if he was waiting for something to happen between them. she kindly gave him a kiss on the cheek, and promised him she would call him the next day. she needed to get to you first.

you were by the bar as you watched their interaction, the giddy look on bucky’s face as he left and gave you a thumbs-up making you chuckle. 

then, natasha appeared by your side, asking you what was so funny. you didn’t have the heart to tell her. 

“i didn’t forget to get you a gift, by the way,” you told her when she had coaxed you up to her bedroom, “i just…didn’t want the others to see. saved you the embarrassment of the teases and accusations in front of everyone.”

“oh god,” natasha replied, “you’re going to gift me a sex toy, aren’t you? i just know it.”

“you are such an addict,” you snickered, “what do you take me for?!”

then, you pulled out a small box from your jacket, tied in a tiffany blue ribbon with her name written in an accompanying card alongside the box. natasha’s fingers trembled as she received your gift.

to my natasha, my bestest friend. 

she didn’t know why her heart dropped a little in disappointment at the note. but she kept up her unwavering smile, and pulled on the ribbon. 

it was a silver necklace, with a flower pendant right in front. it was neither tacky, nor extravagant and luxurious, like bucky’s gift had been. and while his gift was definitely something natasha liked, and was surprised by, your gift had been the one that almost sent her to tears. 

“because you’re beautiful like the flowers,” you said, a little uncertain as you watched tears well up in her eyes, “natty, are you okay?”

she tried to reel in the tears, but to no avail. worried, you said, “if you don’t like it, i can return it, it’s okay. i can probably get back a half-refund for it, and get you the voucher to spend on something else. oh god, you’re crying because of me, is it that bad…?”

but then, suddenly she was throwing herself onto you, arms wrapped around your neck as she sobbed hysterically. she had never known someone who knew her so well. you wrapped your arms around her body, still confused, when she choked out, “i-it’s perfect. thank you.”

she asked you to help her put it on, and when the clasp was tightened and natasha felt the pendant rest on the base of her collarbones, she held it as if she was holding it close to her heart. it was the best birthday gift she had ever gotten. 

“i’m sorry it’s a little small, and kind of lame,” you professed later, as she laid on top of you, spending the last few moments of her birthday together. it was also the rare few times the both of you were fully clothed while laying on that bed. “i know you deserve so much better, but i…i saw the pendant, and it reminded me of you.”

natasha listened to your heartbeat quicken as she reached out for your hand, interlacing her fingers with yours. “i loved it. you don’t have to apologise. thank you, for today as well. steve told me you planned the party from start to finish. called the caterers to make sure they had what i liked, arranged the drinks from the bar, even nearly having a fight over the cake decorations with the bakery. it must’ve been so much trouble.”

your laugh this time was warm, rumbling from your diaphragm. “not at all. not if it’s for you.”

your eyes met hers, and when natasha readjusted her face just so that she could be closer, to give you a perfect opportunity to lean down and kiss her, to give her the perfect end to her birthday night, you stupidly looked away, and told her you couldn’t stay. 

as you left, you reminded her to call bucky again, and natasha nearly threw her own phone at you in frustration. 

– 

natasha had unwillingly agreed to a lunch date with bucky, upon your suggestion that he was a nice guy, and that she was the only one left to go to yelena’s wedding without a date. she made you promise to pick her up right after, and while you feigned that she was so troublesome for asking for such, you were happy to do it for her. 

“well, how was it?” you asked. you had been driving for a good fifteen minutes after picking her up, and natasha still had not said one word about him. she had only been talking to you about your day up until then. 

she shrugged, almost as if not giving a care for it. “it was okay. he paid for the lunch. we talked about yelena’s wedding.” 

“okay enough for a second date?”

she looked away to the window. you thought you said something wrong, when she replied, “what do you think about him?”

“well, i don’t know,” you said, “when he came to me, asking for help to get you to like him, i thought he seemed genuine enough. so…i helped him.”

“wait,” natasha suddenly sat up, shooting you a glare, “you were helping him? to get to me?”

your gaze met hers for a brief moment, before returning to the road. “...yes? is there anything wrong with that?”

she stayed quiet for a moment, but you knew she was seething. you offered to explain yourself, to tell her that you just wanted the best for her, that’s all, and that bucky seemed like a good partner for her, when natasha held up a hand to stop you. 

then, she demanded for you to stop the car and let her out.

“what?” you asked, puzzled. “it’s still half an hour to your apartment, natty. and it’s about five degrees out, you’ll freeze to death if you get out.”

“i said, stop the car!” she argued back defiantly, “stop the car or i’m opening the door right now and throwing myself out!”

you knew not to take natasha’s words lightly, as you stopped finally. then, you watched with even more disbelief, as she unbuckled her seatbelt, got out, and slammed the door shut again. 

when she began walking her route home, you followed her with your car and pleaded, “come on, natty, are you mad at me?”

she refused to make eye contact or acknowledge you. 

“fine, i was wrong. i never should’ve helped him, and i won’t help him anymore. i just…i wanted what was best for you, you know? come on, get back in the car, it’s cold outside, and you still have so far to go if you walk.”

“what’s best for me…” she said under her breath, “...how do you know what’s best for me?”

“natty, i said i’m sorry!” you begged this time, but natasha suddenly took a turn to the right, leading up to a row of shops where the roads didn’t allow for cars in, and you knew it was your sign to leave her alone. she still didn’t acknowledge you when you said you were sorry for the third time. 

–

the next time bucky came up in a conversation between you both (you had been very careful not to tread upon it since that day), natasha told you that she had let him down and told him to try again when she was more ready for a relationship.

you were afraid of asking why, in fear that she would ignore you and get upset all over again, but she invited you to do so. so you asked, and she said that she had her eye on someone else the whole time, so it was unwelcomed at the thought of you trying to set her up with bucky.

you had wanted to ask who it was, your curiosity piqued, when you were interrupted by wanda asking you for a dance. it had been at another friend’s wedding, after all. 

natasha found herself digging her fingernails into her palms when you took wanda’s hand and danced with her.

–

the woman showed you just how jealous she had been of wanda hours later in your bedroom. with the knowledge that her and bucky were no longer a thing, you no longer had to respect your boundaries with her as a friend, and the both of you returned to sleeping together again. to say that you missed natasha’s touch had been an understatement.

“you look so pretty with my hands around your neck,” natasha whispered harshly. there it was again. the last time she called you so pretty, she was drunk. now, she was sober, and you were still finding it hard to believe her words. perhaps it was just something she said in the heat of the moment.

you moaned as her fingers plunged harder, and deeper, within you, letting your eyes roll to the back of your head as natasha ravaged you for the night. in the morning you would wake in her bed again, and it would be okay, because you had her back, finally. the red, raw trails on your back from her fingers wouldn’t feel so sore, the hickeys around your neck and jaw no longer a nuisance. because you had her back, and it was all that mattered. 

–

leading up to yelena’s wedding, the two of you returned to a shared normalcy that was similar to before the bucky incident; something both you and natasha were grateful for.

you would pick her up for lunch at her favourite restaurants most days, and on more than one occasion, you would catch natasha taking pictures of you when the both of you were alone. she thought you looked too good, in the natural sunlight of the restaurant window, and in the scarf that she had bought for you for your birthday. 

when you would ask to see the photos later on, you found it hard to disagree that the world did look better in natasha’s eyes. 

away from your prying eyes later, natasha would set the photos she took of you as her phone wallpaper. 

– 

with natasha as the maid of honour and you being one of the grooms (wo)men, natasha was the one who insisted that you at least knew how to dance properly when the slow songs came about. you had whined that you wouldn’t be dancing anyway, since you didn’t have a date, and you weren’t looking to find a date, but the woman was insistent, and you could never really say no to her. 

“it’s easy, just follow me, and try not to step on my feet,” she reminded you, fixing the turntable to an elvis record. you watched in adoration at the warm lighting of the room, and how, even in her pyjamas and her hair tied in a messy bun, natasha still managed to look beautiful even in her apartment’s living room. 

she took your hands in hers, placing it on her waist, as she laid her head on your shoulder. “breathe. and follow me.”

the music played. it was easy enough keeping up with natasha, following her footsteps and swaying to the music. but what was not easy, was having her breath fanning out against your neck, the smell of wine in her mouth, and the music, oh the music. it was a huge mistake to dance with natasha when elvis’ can’t help falling in love was playing in the background.

the both of you softly, slowly danced, natasha taking comfort in your touch, while the music accompanied all that you were feeling for the night.

shall i stay? would it be, would it be a sin? if i can't help falling in love with you 

would it be a sin if you fell for natasha? you could only hold her closer, relishing in the fact that in that brief moment, where the two of you were dancing, no one else mattered, and nothing else was there, except for your two souls, beating as one. once the song was over, it would be back to being just friends for you both, but in that moment, you were infinite, and you were natasha’s. 

when she felt you let go first as the song ended, natasha resisted the urge to hold on tighter and ask for a second song. 

– 

on the morning of the wedding, you woke natasha up first, pressing kisses all over her cheeks and face as she giggled and wrestled you off. then, she tried sneaking her hand past the band of your panties, to which you reluctantly pulled her out of, mentioning how you couldn’t be late to yelena’s wedding, of all events. she groaned and kissed you for a consolation prize. 

the both of you got ready together. in the bathroom mirror, when the two of you were brushing your teeth, you made eye contact with natasha and she did with you. she smiled shyly, and you realised you didn’t mind spending the rest of your mornings brushing your teeth beside her for a lifetime. 

she sat on your lap as she did your makeup, and you did the same doing hers. the both of you must have had a silent agreement to not look into the other’s eyes for too long in those moments, because you knew natasha wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss her when she got too close. 

and when the both of you arrived and separated into your respective sides of the venue, you wished natasha the best of luck with a kiss to her cheek. she hugged you back in reassurance, telling you would do well in the slowdance later. 

when the guests were seated and ready, and natasha and you standing in the opposite sides of the bride and groom, you caught her eye again, watching yelena walk in. she looked absolutely radiating, and you knew she was thanking natasha secretly for convincing her that a band was a better musical accompaniment than whatever she had planned for herself. 

you look beautiful, you mouthed to natasha. she hid her blush in the bridesmaid beside her, as she mouthed the same back to you. 

but when elvis’ song came on again, as yelena walked down the aisle, your eyes were still transfixed on each other. it didn’t matter, because everyone else’s eyes were on the bride then. only you and natasha had each other.

and suddenly, you realised that forever with someone, didn’t seem so bad at all. not if it’s with her. not if it’s natasha. 

 the domesticity, the mundaneness, it wasn’t all so boring if it was with her. you realised you would relive the thousands of days of doing nothing, if it was spent by her side. 

you realised you would do anything for her, even go out to get a ring for her right then, propose and then marry her in a chapel, if that was what she wanted. if it meant forever with her. 

you realised that maybe you loved her, more than just friends. and loving her meant realising that you didn’t have to make a wish ever again because you already had everything you could ever want with her. 

– 

you wanted to ask for her hand when it was time to slow dance. you wanted to ask her to be yours. you wanted to ask her if it hurt to breathe while you loved her as much as she loved you. 

but when you found her, and went to her side to ask her, you were interrupted by bucky once again, who patted you on the back and diverted his attention to natasha. 

he asked her to dance first. and the smile on your face fell, natasha noticed. she halted him, turning to you to ask what was wrong, but then you shook your head, telling her you were fine. she asked again, but you insisted that she dance with him. you would tell her later.

you didn’t know if you were too late. you didn’t know if there were good reasons natasha had established boundaries between the two of you, and whether breaking them meant losing her forever. what were you thinking, that just because you caught feelings, meant she would catch them too? 

you wouldn’t risk what you have with her just because of your feelings. you treasured natasha too much for that. 

and so when she slow danced with the man on the dance floor and tried catching your eye to dance with her instead, you only gave her a small smile and left the ballroom first. 

because you weren’t hers and she wasn’t yours. that had been the arrangement from the start.