#Red Room

[gravepeople]

I want a red room series so bad. Like give an episode or two each to younger Natasha, Yelena, Antonia, Melina, even Dotty following their red room experiences and how it changes over time. I know Dotty got some of that in agent Carter but idc I want more for all of them. Like that really is one of the mcu’s most interesting but least explored parts and it enrages me a little.

[inthedarktrees]

Sheryl Lee | Twin Peaks

[daikunart]

RWRB

[themoonhauntedmyillusionss]

𝑶𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓 (𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑭𝒐𝒖𝒓)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫, 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝟑𝟒 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝟐𝟎, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐬, 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 5.4𝒌

𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚛: 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝚁𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝, 𝙸 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜.

“I should’ve been the one to tell her.”

“I know that, but she came here already knowing about most of the stuff. Yet, I didn’t tell her anything.”

“Yet here she is, upset.”

“Well, Natasha, that is on you.”

“I did what was best for her! You have no idea what Yelena and I had to—

“Stop it, now. Both of you. You’re startling her; go out. Now.”

You had slowly started to wake up, but as soon as your brain started to register what was happening around you, you realized someone was fighting, and you were positive it was your fault. You could hear the voices rising, finally recognizing one as your mother’s and one as Pepper’s. You could hear the way your mother was worried and disappointed; you could also hear a light wave of regret in her voice; your heart ached, wanting nothing more than to tell her it was okay, that you still loved her. You wanted to tell her you just needed some explanations; you needed to know more, but you would never leave her. You wanted to comfort her and to be comforted back, but you couldn’t face the idea of letting them know you had woken up, that you had listened to their fight. Your heart hurt more and more with each word; you could feel it clenching in your chest, your breath was becoming heavy, and you felt the need to cry. You just wanted to be comforted back to reality.

And that was when you heard her, Wanda’s voice. Her voice was soft but firm, and you felt like the softness in that lovely sound was more directed towards you than towards them. You suddenly felt complete silence around you, and your heart slowly started to beat normally, to feel normal again. You wondered if it was just her tone of voice and her words that convinced your mother and Pepper to leave; you wondered what the look on Wanda’s face was; you knew she could be very protective about the ones she loved, but you had never seen that side of her revolving around you. A part of you wished you had opened your eyes, that you had seen the look on her face. A part of you wished you had seen and known if she had been looking at them or at you, that you had seen how close she actually was to you. 

You still didn’t move a muscle; even if you knew that your mother and Pepper weren’t in the room anymore, you still didn’t feel safe. You felt the mattress of the bed lower as someone, probably Wanda, sat next to you. Your heart fluttered at the thought of Wanda wanting to be close to you, to comfort you and reassure you. You could feel your cheeks getting warm, the need for closeness becoming more intense as you pictured her in your mind, sitting close to you, looking at you with those mesmerizing green eyes. Yet, you didn’t move; you knew she was aware you were awake, but you didn’t want to be the one starting the conversation. 

“Moya dorogoya, I’m so sorry you had to hear that. I wish I had noticed sooner you were waking up.” Her voice was soft and gentle, comfort washing over you at her words. You stayed still, not wanting to react yet; your thoughts were still overwhelming you. Finding out about their job took a number on you: the worry, the disappointment. No one ever told you anything; how many times were they risking their life without you knowing? “Detka, please. Can I come closer?”

You heard her voice as a whisper; you slowly opened your eyes, taking her in, her sweet green eyes looking at you worriedly, her beautiful smile trying to warm you up. You then noticed her outfit; she still hadn’t changed. She looked like the pictures you saw online, but… your eyes widened and you sat up immediately.

“What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Your voice was filled with worry as you saw the red outfit all teared up. What had they done to her? Your eyes started welling up with tears at the thought of her being hurt, of her getting hurt by someone. Your mind started spinning once again, your thoughts clouded in pictures of who, or what, they were fighting, of what that thing could have possibly done to them, to her. You wondered about her pain in that moment, the way she could have been scared, hurt, the way she had reacted. You suddenly felt the need to have been there, to have been able to be there for her, to have been able to have hugged her and healed her somehow. You felt comfort and reassurance as her hand came to rest on your cheek, her eyes locking into yours, looking at you sweetly, supportively. Your words filled her ears, her smile widening ever so slightly, her heart soaring with how genuine your concern sounded... She loved this.

“Everything’s okay; don’t worry. I’m used to it, but look.” Her voice was soft as you looked at her, her hands swirling around in the air, her fingers moving slowly as red energy strings flew out from her fingers. You looked at her in awe, wondering what she was doing, but soon you realized it; her outfit changed, and she was now wearing soft, comfy clothes. All the tears on her outfit were gone, and her skin looked as fresh as it would have after a shower: no scars, no cuts, nothing at all. You smiled relieved, and you sighed, leaning into her touch. 

”Was that...?" Your voice was curious and excited; you couldn’t believe what you had seen was real. You knew she had something magical; she could hear your thoughts, after all. However, to actually see magic come from her fingers was just… shockingly beautiful. 

“Magic, yes.” She chuckled softly at the awe in your voice, her eyes softening further with adoration at your reaction. It had been several years since she started showing her powers, and now they felt completely normal to her, but seeing your enchanted reaction to them made her feel like she was using them for the first time. Her voice was still soft, smiling at you tenderly, the hand on your cheek caressing it gently; you sighed in relief, awe, and adoration. “How are you feeling now?” 

“A bit better. I still want answers, though.” Your voice was a bit stern; you knew she probably wasn’t at fault. From what you had gathered so far, it was your mother’s decision to keep everything from you; so Wanda had just probably been trying to respect your mother's wishes. However, a part of you wished she had been the one to tell you the truth. That she had loved you enough to fail at being supportive to your mother and just caved in telling you everything. You knew your thoughts weren’t fair to her or to your mother; you knew they had developed a bond, but you still wished you had known. The redhead nodded her head, not saying anything; her hand kept caressing your cheek, her face leaned closer to you, and you could feel her breath on your skin. You swallowed heavily, your need for answers slowly fading away as another need, more primal, more desperate, filled you. Her mouth landed on your other cheek, her lips soft and warm. You closed your eyes at the feeling, embracing every moment. 

“I’m going to call your mother, okay? We’ll see each other later; Tony has decided we need to have lunch here today.” You could hear the small groan leaving her lips at the idea, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about having to eat lunch at Tony’s. Not if it meant being able to spend more time with Wanda, even if you couldn’t be alone, which was probably for the best. You nodded your head; disappointment showed on your features as her lips pulled away from your skin and she stood up from the bed. Her hand on your cheek squeezed a little bit, the touch ever so comforting to you, as you waited for your mother to come in. 

You sat up straight on the bed, your back leaning against the headboard as you looked at the door slowly opening. You saw your mother making her way into the room, a look of utter regret on her face. You tried to smile at her, but the disappointment you felt towards the way she acted with you during all those years made it hard to do. Your mother sat on the bed next to you, a part of you thinking about mere moments before, when in that same spot Wanda had been sitting, comforting you. However, you knew you needed this; you knew it would have been good for both you and your mother to talk about everything. You knew this was something you absolutely wanted; you needed to know all the things she had been keeping from you. 

“I’m sorry, y/n. I know you deserved to know, but I was protecting you.” You knew she was going to explain it like that, but that did not make you feel any better. Part of you knew she was telling the truth, that all she ever wanted to do was raise you safely and protect you from everything that could ever harm you. The other part, though, was upset at the fact that she had put her own life at risk so many times and you knew nothing about it. You always thought of your relationship with your mother as being completely founded on trust, on telling each other the truth; especially about things as important as that. 

“Well, Morgan was raised properly, yet she knows about everything.” Your tone was stern, hurt even, but you couldn’t help it. The fact of you not knowing was already upsetting you before knowing that Morgan, a 14-year-old, knew things of such importance and you didn’t. Knowing that it was your mother’s choice not to let you know about it made it even worse from your point of view. You noticed her eyes narrowing at your words; you knew she probably had her reasons for keeping you out of what she had been doing, to keep you out from the risks she had to face, but you still couldn’t quite forgive her yet. 

“Morgan wasn’t at risk like you were.” Your ears perked up at that, wondering what your mother was on about. You were sure she and Tony were on the same side, on the same team, which meant that everything that could have harmed you would’ve harmed Morgan too. You looked at your mother, confused, your expression telling her to keep talking, to explain to you what she meant by that. Your mother sighed. “I guess I should start by telling you about how I was raised. I was taken away from my parents when I was a child, and I was forced to attend a training involving every aspect of my life. I had no childhood; I had no real parents. I had teachers and coaches who were abusing me all of my childhood and teenage years. I was trained to become a deadly spy and assassin. I was trained in hand-to-hand combat, marksmanship, and espionage; I was brainwashed and manipulated from a young age. I won’t tell you specifics because it’s a lot to talk about emotionally, but if you want, from time to time I can tell you bits here and there. The important part I need you to understand is that we thought I had managed to destroy everything about that organization, yet someone followed the footsteps of the man who did this to me and tracked you down as my daughter. They wanted to do to you what they did to me; I couldn’t let that happen.” Your eyes never left your mother’s; both of you were tearing up, knowing your mother had suffered so much during her life made you want to scream, to throw things, to punch something. You felt a rage inside you that you were having a hard time controlling. How could someone ever do something like that to a person? To a child? You found your hand on her arm before you could think about it, but you would’ve done it either way; she suffered so much, so many horrible things, and she had wanted to spare you the same fate. 

“I’m so, so sorry, Mom. I… I know it’s hard to talk about it; I understand why you didn’t. Part of me still wishes I had known, if only to have been able to be there for you.” You felt a tear slide down your cheek; you wished your mother never had to hurt like that; you wished she could have had the same beautiful childhood you had. It was difficult to spend so many years in hiding, but the bond you had created with your mother made everything worth it. “I wish you had someone, the same way I had you, to protect you.”

Your mother shook her head, placing her hand over the one you had on her arm, stroking it lightly. 

“I probably wouldn’t have you with me now if that were the case. You’re more important than everything that ever happened to me.” You flew into her arms; you needed to feel her close, to feel her embrace and her comfort. You wanted her to know that you loved her no matter what, that you were never going to leave her, whatever was going on between the two of you. 

“Tell me about them, Mom. The Avengers: how it started, who are they, even though I think I know all of them.” You smiled at her; you were sure that talking about them would lighten her a bit. With them, she had been saving the world, doing the exact opposite of what she was trained to do, which probably made her feel worth something in the end. 

Your mother smiled at you, her hand wiped away her tears as she nodded. You listened carefully, as if you were a child and your mom was telling you a fairytale to make you sleep. You listened as she told you how she managed to escape, how she came to the realization of what that organization really was. You listened carefully as she told you how she finally found a way to use everything she had learned in a good way, how she understood how she could save people with her abilities. You listened in adoration as she told you about the Avengers, about the way she slowly bonded with all of them. You would've listened to the story of her life forever.

“About Wanda, I can only tell you she stole my jacket.” You furrow your eyebrows at that; a confused expression paints your face as your mother softly chuckles. “Wanda joined us when she was 16. She has a very rough story about her childhood, too, but I believe she should be the one to tell you that.” You nodded slowly at her words, your heart clenched a bit knowing that Wanda also struggled as a child; no one should struggle as a child, and you wish you could've rescued her the same way they rescued you. “She was our enemy at first, quite a feisty little one, too.” Your eyes almost popped out of your face as she told you Wanda was their enemy, but your expression softened as soon as you heard her call the redhead a feisty little one, wishing you could've seen her when she joined them.

“She was?” You asked her, your voice full of curiosity, wonder, and awe at the idea of Wanda being their enemy and then joining them. You saw your mother nod and smile; you could sense that she was reliving the memories in her mind, and you chose not to bother her. The two of you stayed there, sitting in complete silence; you were trying to process everything your mother had just told you, from the way she was raised to how she tried to protect you from the same fate. From the way she probably killed an enormous amount of people to the way she found out she could help people with the same abilities she had killed them with. Your mind felt like a mess, but you didn't feel that way. You recognized the amount of information that was circling in your head, but you didn't feel as overwhelmed by it as you expected to.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and both you and your mother turned around to face it as Wanda made her way into the room. You felt a flutter of excitement in your chest as Wanda entered the room. Your heart quickened its rhythm, your fingers subconsciously playing with each other as if to seek comfort. Her gaze lingered on you a beat too long, and you instinctively desired to be alone with her, to hold her close and capture her lips with yours. You desired to hold her close, to kiss her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, and, finally, her lips. You desired to hold her close, to run your hands on her skin, to feel her body shiver under your touch, under your attention. You desired to touch every part of her, to kiss every part of her. Yet, you swiftly reminded yourself to focus on the conversation at hand.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but Tony has already told me three times that they’re all waiting in the dining room for lunch, so I figured it was best to tell you before he came in for himself.” As Wanda delivered the message from Tony, you could sense her frustration towards him, likely stemming from some undisclosed tension. You knew she didn’t like him very much; you knew she had some kind of resentment towards him, but you had no idea about what had actually happened between the two of them. You looked at the way she was almost shy at the idea of interrupting your time with your mother, and you wanted to tell her that everything was okay, that you were more than happy to see her, to feel her close in some way.

You noticed her face light up suddenly, even though not a single word had been spoken. You were about to look at her and then at your mother, confused, but as you saw Wanda looking at you with eyes full of sweetness and gratitude, you realized: your thoughts. 

“Don’t worry, Wanda, it’s okay. As for Tony, you know how he is, and I do too, so I wouldn't worry too much about interrupting us because of him. I definitely understand.” You saw how Wanda’s shoulders relaxed even more at your mother’s words, and your heart warmed a bit knowing how much of a comfort they could be to each other. You still didn’t know much about their friendship, how it started, and when the deep bond actually made its first appearance, but you could see the way they acted towards each other, and it made you feel lighter knowing they had each other when things probably were messy. You looked at your mother and then at Wanda; nodding your head and standing up, you didn’t trust your words, not when you knew the feelings towards the redhead were still washing over you again and again each time your eyes met hers.

You had been sitting down at the table for the past couple of hours; you had decided to sit next to your mother to feel the comfort she always seemed to be able to give you. You already knew all the people at that table, but getting to know them on a deeper level made you feel uneasy; getting to know how they became Avengers made you feel glad that they were sharing those parts of their lives with you but also sad about all the awful things they had to endure. When they started telling you bits and pieces of their missions, you found yourself being mesmerized as you listened to them; a part of you was also relieved as you understood how well-organized they were and how good they actually were at what they did. You slowly also started to understand how good your mom was, the way she had no powers at all, no ability to fly or super strength, but she was just as amazing at everything as anyone else, if not even more. As they were telling you about your mother, your eyes drifted to Pepper, smiling at her genuinely, knowing all that was exactly what she was trying to tell you hours earlier to calm you down.

“I must say, Wanda, with everything going on between us at the moment, I had almost forgotten how good of a team we are while fighting.” Your eyes shot back up from your plate as you heard that comment; your gaze drifted from Wanda, who was sitting in front of your mother, to the owner of that voice, Vision. You noticed his eyes were sparkling as he was looking at the redhead, a somewhat smug grin plastered across his face; you felt your own face grimace at the sight. You still hadn’t wrapped your head around the fact that Vision was not the blond man you had met but was, in fact, a red marker’s long-lost sibling. You couldn’t even believe the fact that he was probably the most indestructible one, which made you even more furious. Why couldn’t your mother or Wanda be made out of vibranium? As you were focusing on Vision and what he had said, you heard a soft chuckle come from the other end of the table. Your eyes drifted again and landed on Wanda; you noticed her cheeks were a light shade of pinkish, and she was almost giggling. Your eyes lingered on her for a few seconds; you watched the way her green eyes were squinting a bit as she giggled, the way you could almost feel through your gaze that those beautiful cheeks were getting warmer, the way that shade of pink made her even more beautiful in your eyes. Your heart missed a few beats at that sight before you realized that reaction wasn’t directed to you. You could feel blood boil inside your veins as you took in her reaction to his words, knowing how much she was hurting lately because of him. You couldn’t believe the way she was so nonchalantly reacting to him as if she hadn't almost let herself freeze in her own house and starved herself because of him. Something inside you was convinced that whatever happened between the two of them, that sight before your eyes was the proof that she was willing to move past it. Your hands turned into fists under the table as your eyes bore into her figure, anger rising rapidly at the exchange between the woman you loved and her ex-husband; the disappointment for how quick she was to set you aside for him washed over you. Your eyes were glued to your plate for the rest of lunch; you could hear everyone talking about missions and other things, but your head was so wrapped in the way Wanda had reacted to Vision, your heart felt heavy as every little thing she had told you in those weeks suddenly seemed fake and pointless. You thought about every little moment between the two of you, every little touch, every wish and desire for something more, for something bigger, for something with everything. You thought about how much you loved her and how much she had probably loved him, how many years of her life she had probably spent with him. How much you just didn’t stand a chance against him. 

“So, little one, what’s the next exam?” You were forced to move your gaze from your plate when you heard Tony address you; you tried your best to avoid Wanda’s eyes as you felt her looking intensely at you. You didn’t want to look into her eyes; you didn’t want to lose yourself in those beautiful green orbs. You were once again finding yourself not wanting to feel everything she could make you feel with just her presence. You finally managed to set your eyes on Tony and smiled shyly at him. 

“Oh, luckily it’s an easy one; I have a Russian exam.” You said confidently that, thanks to your mother, you were quite fluent in Russian, which meant you weren’t too stressed about the exam. You had thought about going over everything with Wanda, but now you had no idea if that would’ve even been possible. The brief exchange between her and Vision had sent your head into a deep journey through your insecurities; you were already picturing the two of them getting back together and raising the twins as the perfect little family. Your heart was hurting more and more each second that passed; your eyes had not once met hers, but you could still feel her intense gaze on you. You knew she probably had sensed everything that was going through your mind and was clearly feeling guilty about it because you knew everything you were thinking was true. You started fidgeting with your hands once again, trying to find comfort in them, trying to find something, anything else to think about.

Once lunch was finally over, your mother decided to go back home, glad you had brought the car with you, wanting nothing more than to rest in her own bed. The ride back home was filled with memories your mother had decided to share with you about her missions with The Avengers, the funny moments they had spent together, and the way they had always been there for each other. You couldn’t help but smile as she was so lost in her stories, your mind wondering about the way her heart felt about them, how light it must’ve felt when she realized she could do something good for the world, for herself. A part of you wished you had got to see her when she joined the Avengers, to have had the pleasure of seeing your mother grow into the beautiful person who had saved you. 

As your mother started to talk about the bonds between the members of the team, you waited for the inevitable; your heart clenched just at the thought of her telling you about Wanda and Vision’s love story. You could already feel your eyes watering at the thought, the idea of knowing how much Wanda had probably loved him, how much she had grown with him, how much she knew him, and how much she had discovered about herself through him. 

To your surprise, however, your mother never mentioned either of them, not even once. You tried your best not to look at her with a shocked expression as relief and gratitude filled your heart; you could definitely live another day without knowing anything about Wanda loving someone who wasn’t you. 

“Mom, you told me that Wanda joined you when she was 16, but when did she get together with Vision? And why did it end?” Suddenly you had decided to hurt yourself even more; the relief wasn’t as strong as the need to know, the need to know exactly how much Wanda had loved him, how much she had been his. You needed to know what had brought them to decide to get a divorce, what had been so serious and difficult that they couldn’t work it out after all those years together, after having had the twins. You needed to know if there could be a chance for them to get back together, which was a doubt that was slowly killing you even before that day. You saw your mother looking at you a bit confused, and you tried to hide your blush as you started to feel embarrassed because of her confusion at your sudden interest. “Well, you were talking about the different bonds in the team, and you didn’t even mention once the only relationship there was besides Tony and Pepper.” You tried your best to find some sort of excuse for your curiosity about the ex-couple, but something in your mother’s expression told you she didn’t quite believe you.

“Their relationship has always been a bit complicated, my dear. Starting from the fact that Wanda was really young and she was quite overwhelmed with everything that had already happened in her life. Vision was a new creation; technically he was even younger, but of course his mind had always been almost completely developed; however, he didn’t really know what love was like, and I don’t know how much it could be possible for him to really find out. As for their breakup… I do think it would be better for Wanda to tell you; it’s really personal and serious. It involves her magic and so much pain and sorrow; it wouldn’t be fair for me to tell you.” Your mother replied to you softly; of course her explanation didn’t satisfy you at all, but you also knew you couldn’t force her to tell you things that did not concern her. You nodded your head slowly, sighing a bit as you got out of the car. You leaned against the front door as you reached inside your bag to light a cigarette. For a brief moment, each puff you were making seemed to be able to take away everything you were feeling; for a few moments, you felt as if you were numb, which was obviously better than hurt. Your eyes were glued to the sky; the sun was going down, and the sky looked like a beautiful and romantic painting. Your mind drifted off to a world where you and Wanda could lay together on the grass, looking up at the sky and admiring the breathtaking colors giving it life. You dreamed briefly of a world where you could cuddle her as the both of you relaxed in each other’s embrace. You quickly wiped away a lonely tear that was falling onto your cheek as you made your way inside the house, suddenly drowning yourself in the silence there was inside since your mother had wanted to go to rest for a while. You couldn't find it in yourself to blame her; you were sure she must’ve been exhausted from the mission.

Trying your best not to dwell on your thoughts and desires about Wanda since you had found yourself alone, you had decided to study some more, cursing again at yourself as you realized you had missed an entire day because of everything that had happened. 

You grabbed a soft and comfy blanket and made your way to the couch, bringing your knees to your chest as you put the blanket over yourself, placing the notes on the table in front of you.

After what felt like hours on end while repeating out loud the essay you had written for the exam, you got up from the couch and made your way to the kitchen, the blanket wrapped tightly around your body. Your mind was set on making yourself a cup of tea; it was obviously an excuse to take a break from your notes as well as a way to find some kind of comfort since your mind had not stopped for a second racing about Wanda and Vision. You opened the kitchen cabinet to look at the types of tea you had but jumped out of your skin as your phone rang suddenly; you placed the mug on the counter and grabbed the device, furrowing your eyebrows. 

Wanda. 

You stare at the incoming call for a bit, wondering what you really wanted to do. Obviously, you wanted to talk to her; you wanted to hear her voice, to hear the sweet tone she always addressed you with. However, a part of you was afraid. You were afraid she was calling you to end whatever there was between the two of you at that moment; you were afraid she was calling you to let you know she had realized she still had deep feelings for Vision and that they had a family together and were going to sort things out. You were worried that, while trying to fix her marriage to Vision, she was going to distance herself from you. 

Your hand shook slightly as you picked up the phone, slowly accepting the incoming call. 

“Hello, malyshka. Can you do me a favor? Open the door for me, please.”

𝚃𝚊𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @imaginaryblogger01 @unique0003 @ciaoooooo111 @franfineashell @blueredg52 @lesbiansweet @nattysgirl @invictiusstuff @vlansy @blamelessgaynonbinary @reginassecretlover @iwantlizziebad @reignvoltage @beggingonmykneesforher @wandasglf @xxsekhmet @chiar4anna @dorabledewdroop @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow @wandasslut3000 @bella423 @ivysbitcx @unadulteratedballoonduck @ppbc3 @theo-the-raven @trullykomtrikru

𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨!

[deadmotelsusa]

Can we bring back monochromatic interior design? This might be an unpopular opinion but I love the concept of picking one color and making the entire room shades of that color only. Am I the only one?

[maxyartwork]

🩰✨ yelena belova commission for @/chundrchld on twitter!

[buckys-baby-boy]

I love the headcanon that Bucky trained the Black Widows in the MCU because like it fits into canon pretty neatly.

Most headcanons that are that big and important or whatever often have trouble fitting into canon because "why wouldn't character A mention that character B blah blah blah" but Natasha and Bucky are the types of characters to not mention that kind of thing to anyone including Steve.

Like, imagine:

*Bucky and Nat sparring, Bucky gets hit.*

Bucky: "Really!? You hit harder when you were twelve."

Steve, drawing on a nearby bench: "Natasha hit harder when she was what?"

[fog-world]

[inthedarktrees]

Sheryl Lee & Kyle MacLachlan | Twin Peaks

[glorystark]

His Saviour | Part 1

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You disobey one of Steve's orders in a mission but you don't think about the consequences...

Warnings: (TRIGGER WARNING!) mentions of self harm and suicide, mentions of killing and torturing, pure Angst no happy ending, mentions of injures, dark!Steve Rogers, swearing, minor spoilers of Black Widow, Steve being an asshole in general

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Featuring: The original 6

Disclaimer: please don't read this if you're not comfortable with any of the topics below or/and if they trigger you. This is just a fiction and it's never ok to act like this. I'm not romanticizing any of these topics and this behaviour!

You are sitting in the Quinjet, observing everyone who is injured in different ways. Natasha has been stabbed in her right thigh, Clint’s left ankle has been twisted, and Bruce, although not injured, appears exhausted due to a significant code green call, during which Nat almost lost him trying to retrieve him. Thor has a few scratches on his face. Everyone’s faces show bruising in different areas, and their bodies are still aching. But you, you have been injured the most. Your right wrist is broken, and you have been shot in your left leg, though the bullet wasn’t deep and didn't cause major damage; otherwise, you probably would have passed out by now. You still have trouble breathing, and your voice is sore because one of the HYDRA agents almost choked you to death. Your face is bruised, you can only open your right eye halfway, and your lips are swollen. The numbness has made it so you can barely feel any pain. When everyone saw you upon returning to the jet, they were extremely worried. You didn’t possess inhuman powers and weren't a super soldier, but you used to be a well-trained assassin and spy in the Red Room, closely partnered with Natasha Romanoff before joining S.H.I.E.L.D. So, it was surprising for the team to see you so battered, though they understood the mission was challenging.

Everyone needed a break upon returning to the tower. Initially, everyone thought it was a straightforward mission: infiltrate a high-security HYDRA base, get two flash drives containing vital and dangerous information, and exit. What no one knew was that it was a trap, with far more agents present than expected. Eventually, you managed to escape, but only securing one of the flash drives.

As everyone settled back in the jet, Bruce finished removing the bullet from your leg and bandaging Nat’s thigh. Thor bragged to Tony about his usual lack of injuries on missions, joking that he could have taken down all the HYDRA agents that day if he hadn’t been 'unlucky', which elicited laughter from Tony. Clint checked on Nat while she recounted a memory from Budapest. Meanwhile, you contemplated going home for a long shower until you noticed Steve, whose eyes were fixed on you with intensity. Confused, you assumed he was lost in thought, but you were wrong.

“How could you be so reckless?!" Steve's voice boomed through the jet as he stood up from his seat, his gaze piercing into yours. Everyone stopped what they were doing, surprised by his uncharacteristically loud tone, given his usually calm demeanor, even when upset. You looked at him, uncertain of what to say. You understood why he was angry; you had disobeyed an order. However, if not for your 'disobedience,' you wouldn't have acquired half the information you have now. To you, this seemed like Steve Rogers throwing a typical Captain America tantrum.

“Well, are you going to answer, or are you too stupid to respond to a simple question?" he growled, advancing toward your seat.

“I wasn't being-" you began to mutter, only to be interrupted by Steve.

“Speak up," he demanded, his voice cutting you off. You met his gaze, puzzled by his demeanor.

“I wasn't being reckless; I was being thoughtful. The-" you tried to explain, but Steve interrupted again.

"Thoughtful?! You call that thoughtful?! Really, Y/n? It's clear you don't understand the difference between stupidity and thoughtfulness.” he retorted.

“Will you stop interrupting me?" you interjected, your voice growing louder as you rose from your seat. You locked eyes with Steve, standing almost chest to chest in front of each other.

“I wouldn't have interrupted you if I knew any useful words were going to come out of your mouth," he countered, finally yelling, causing everyone but you to flinch.

“You have no right to yell at me like this, Steve.” you asserted, standing up for yourself.

"I have EVERY right to yell at you, you-" he began, but you cut him off this time.

"Why are you making it seem like I committed a crime? Yes, I agree it was wrong for me to enter that room alone, but I retrieved the flash drive we needed, didn't I?" you challenged.

“That is not the point right now. The point is, I'm your captain, and I gave a strict, direct order not to enter that room, and you disobeyed me.” he stated firmly.

That was all true. When you disobeyed his order, you knew he would be angry, but not to this extent.

You sprinted down the hallway, incapacitating every HYDRA agent in your path. You tried not to use your gun too often, knowing there would likely be guards in the room.

"Steve, I found the room," you said through your earpiece. You subdued the agent guarding the room where the flash drives were, and as the door swung open, more than twenty HYDRA agents stood before you, blocking your view of the drives on the computer table.

“Y/n, what did you just say? Get out of there now! Do you even know how many agents are in there?" Steve's urgent voice echoed in your ear.

“I do now," you replied, still facing the agents, who were also eyeing you cautiously.

"Y/n, this is an order. Get. Out. Of. There. Now.” Steve commanded, his tone almost a shout.

“Sorry, Steve, but people's lives depend on this.” you declared, charging toward the agents, disregarding Steve's pleas for you to retreat.

“Steve, I really don't understand what the big deal is. I got one of the drives, and yes, I went alone, but at least I obtained something that will help us.” you reasoned, taking a seat.

“Alright, y/n, I'm definitely sure now that you are deaf. You entered a room with so many HYDRA agents-" he began, only to be cut off by you.

“They were like 10 and they were really weak-" you defended.

“They were 27 trained assassins!” he corrected, making you widen your eyes.

"And do I need to remind you that your leg has been shot, and you can barely keep your eyes open, not to mention the rest of your injuries." he added mockingly.

“Okay, Steve, I get it, and I'm sorry for being reckless. Can we let this go now?" you pleaded, sitting down.

“Let this go?!" he started laughing, though his laugh lacked any humor. Everyone looked at Steve, unable to believe his behavior. They never expected him to speak to you this way, especially in front of the whole team.

You and Steve had been friends since meeting during the Battle of New York. You had a lot in common and quickly connected. A few months later, at one of Tony's parties, he kissed you, and the following day, he asked you out. It had been six months since then, and Steve treated you like a princess. He called you his savior because you helped him adjust to life after being thawed from the ice. He adored you. You had a few minor disagreements, but they were hardly fights, more like disagreements. You could never stay mad at each other, and now you couldn't believe the man who was laughing at you and humiliating you was the same person.

"Steve, I think that's enough," Nat finally intervened, her voice calm yet firm.

"Is it really? I think baby y/n hasn't learned her lesson yet.” Steve retorted sarcastically.

“Fuck you, Steve. You can't speak to me like that. I'm not a kid. If it wasn't for me, we wouldn't even have that one drive, and god knows how many people could have died. But you can't even realize that because I disobeyed ‘Captain America's orders,' and no one is allowed to disobey America's 'hero.' The only kid between us is you!” you shot back, your voice rising, though not as loud as Steve's had been.

“I'm a kid, y/n? Really? And what are you, a hero? Do you expect me to thank you now? Do you expect all of us to be on our knees thanking you?!" Steve challenged.

“That is not what I said!" you finally snapped.

The tension in the room escalated, and the team grew more uncomfortable by the second.

Steve smirked at your angered state.

“What's the matter, y/n? You seem a little bit defensive. I thought you liked being a hero. You know, because of the guilt, since you started killing and torturing people at the age of 8.”he said, still wearing the hurtful smirk on his face.

The whole team gasped, especially Natasha, whose story paralleled yours. You looked at Steve, unable to believe what he had just said.

“You seem shocked, Agent y/l/n. Oh, and Natasha, don't take this the wrong way. We all make mistakes in our life, but at least after we realize our mistakes, we try to make them up as soon as we can and not run away like a coward.” Steve continued, ignoring your reaction. You and Natasha widened your eyes, understanding what Steve was referring to."Steve..." Nat began, but Steve cut her off.

“I'm not done yet. Some of y'all look confused, well, let me explain it for you," Steve said, addressing the rest of the team.

"Steve, don't." you murmured, your voice weak now. You weren't even sure if anyone heard you, and you were right. No one heard you, but Steve who chose to ignore you.

“Our dear y/n y/l/n was a well-trained assassin back in the years with Natasha Romanoff in a place called the Red Room, which I'm sure you've heard about. Before even Natasha was out of there, Agent y/l/n found a way to leave the Red Room, a way to save every girl, from children to adults, who were mind-controlled into killing, and even worse. But do you know what she did instead?" he turned around the room, looking at everyone as if it was a show. No one said anything; they just kept looking between you and Steve. It was getting harder for you to focus on your breathing.

“Well, in case you haven't guessed yet, she just left everyone who could've been saved, even her best friend who is sitting right here with us.” he said, pointing at Nat.

“And even though she could've killed Dreykov, who was the leader by the way, with her genius plan, she didn't because she was a coward.” he said, emphasizing the word coward.

You've never felt so small and betrayed. You couldn’t believe he was using your awful past against you. When you confided in him, he comforted you, assuring you it wasn't your fault. That you’ve been through a lot and you took the only chance you had to save yourself. And now… now he was a different person.

“Cap that’s enough, it’s not our business what she did in the past. We all did something in some point that we aren’t proud of. She made up for that mistake many times now, since the battle of New York until today’s mission. I’m sure she still feels guilty and you’re just making it worse.” Tony looked at your trembling sight, standing up from his seat and walked towards Steve. The rest of the team nodding along, glad that Tony stood up for you because they were frozen themselves.

“Oh yeah Tony, you’re right I’m sure she feels guilty, don’t you y/l/n?” He looked at you as if you were a kid

Everything about him was hurting you right now. His voice tone that humiliated you in every way, his eyes that sent daggers to your way, his body that was intimidatingly towering yours, his smile which always made you happy and now it was only mocking you. Your throat is dry, your eyes are wet and you feel like your heart is going to come out of your chest in any second. You were hurt and unwell, and everyone could see that, everyone but Steve.

“Agent y/I/n do you feel guilty about your past?" He repeated his sarcastic question.

"I wouldn't worry about that too much since you have a good way to cope with your guilt right?" He continued.

You looked up at him frighteningly, understanding where he was going.

“Steve don't you dare." you whispered, finally being able to say something.

Everyone was confused since they had no idea what you both were talking about.

“you seem scared agent." Steve smirked at you sending shivers down your spine. It hurts so much more that he wasn't even using your name anymore, he felt like a stranger to you.

“SHUT UP!" you had never yelled so loud in your life, the whole jet shook. Everyone flinched but Steve. It seemed like he was waiting for this.

“Come on y/n are you that afraid of everyone knowing how you used to deal with your problems, or do you still do it?"

Everyone was quite once again, something in them wanted to know what Steve was talking about but they also didn't because of the way you reacted.

You looked at him not saying anything but your eyes were begging him to stop. You've never been in such a vulnerable position, especially considering everything you’ve been through.

“oh don't tell me you're gonna cut your wrists open again because you feel guilty you didn't get the second driver."

Everyone froze and widened their eyes, silence filling the jet. No one knew that you used to harm yourself until you started dating Steve, he was the first person to ever know. You felt so comfortable around him that you didn't want to have any untold secrets.

You thought about what if you guys break up but you convinced yourself that even if you guys separate your ways from each other at some point, you're definitely going to stay friends and he's never going to tell your secret to anyone because you believed he was a good man. You trusted him more than yourself and now he proved you all wrong.

You didn't cut anymore, because you found a way to save people. If it wasn't for Nick Fury, making you join the team you'd be long gone by now. But you didn't have a reason anymore, you were happy you had a new family and a new job, everything was perfect for you. Now you felt alone all over again and you didn't even blame Steve, you blamed yourself. You failed.

You started trembling more and started to see black spots. The team walked towards you to see if you were okay. Thor pushed Steve away, "Stay away from her," he warned, before walking to you. You heard Tony and Natasha yelling at Steve, Clint trying to calm them down but looking angry himself, Bruce and Thor asking you if you were alright, but you couldn’t hear anything anymore. It was so loud, but you only heard annoying mumbles. You let out a sob before passing out in the strong arms of the god, the last thing you saw being Steve's worried eyes…

A/N: This was my first (published) fan fiction. I apologise for any writing and/or grammar mistakes considering that English isn’t my first language. Feel free to correct me! If you enjoyed this, please let me know and let me know if you want to be tagged in the upcoming posts! (This fic will make a twist;))

[leesromanova]

natasha romanoff HC's

sooo i've never written anything like this before but i literally have a doc full of little HCs i have for nat, stuff like how she treats her partner and little quirks she has and wanted to publish them here let me know if i should do a pt. 2 or if i should do any one-shots with these little HCs :)

tags: natasha x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, angst, some alluding to smut, lol just some thoughts i've got, mentions of red room and some things i imagine she's gone through, I JUST LOVER HER SM I WANT HER TO FEEL SAFE AND LOVED AND PROTECTED AGHHH

also i didn’t have time to revise to ignore mistakes lol

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physical touch:

she was so used to being "independent" she would often ignore her urges to feel close to someone. she was very hesitant with physical touch, it was hard for her to get used to having someone with her especially when it came to dating. when it came to you, she would shy away from hugs or even holding hands, not because she didn't want to, but because she didn't know how you would feel holding someone like her in your embrace. i picture her being all stoic and cold on the outside but truly, deeply, wholeheartedly craving to feel love and connection with someone. once you noticed her hesitation you talked to her, letting her know that no matter what she thought of herself, none of it was true and that she deserved to feel loved and cherished, just like everyone else. that was the first time nat realized just how much she loved being held and holding someone.

it was morning and although it was early, it was all too late for natasha's routine. she didn't care, she just couldn't let go of you. your face so calm, and your chest rising up into her arm that was wrapped around your torso. her eyes traced the lines of your features. "are you going to keep staring or should i stay still so you take a picture?" she blushed and released you, grabbing a pillow from behind her to smack you with it, making you release a laugh. "i can't even look at my girlfriend lovingly in the mornings without being teased anymore" she'd pout and turn away from you. "aw, i'm sorry, come'ere" you'd scoop your arm around her and bring her closer to your chest. "isn't it a little late for you?" you'd ask as she'd settle under your chin and wrapped her arm over your own, lacing your fingers together. "yes it is, but it's fine, i want to soak this in a little more" you smiled as she released a content sigh.

⋆｡°✩

being protective:

i think nat would definitely be the kind of girlfriend to just want to make you feel protected and safe and would go out of her way to do so, she'd probably do tiny things to show this like; always walking on the outside of the sidewalk, holding your hand or putting her hand on the small of your back in crowds, she loves handing you her jacket as soon as you shiver or if you even rub your arms to keep warm and if you'd argue saying how she must also be cold she'd respond something like "russian's don't get cold" with a raised brow, but would secretly be freezing just to be able to know that you're warm. you'd obviously know she was cold and would hold her and say "okay chilly russian, get over here".

⋆｡°✩

wearing her clothes:

going back to her sharing her jacket with you, she'd love seeing you in her clothes. it was something about seeing you, the person she loved wearing something that was hers, and later would wear the same clothes only to find them doused in your perfume, mingled with something that was so you. you two would often steal pieces of each other's closets, wearing them without realizing until the other asked "is that mine?" you had a thing for stealing nat's leather jackets when she was out on missions.

once, she came home to an empty apartment and washed herself up, she was sitting on your shared couch, watching some random james bond movie you'd rented for her. munching some of her favorite snacks, as she heard your keys in the door and saw you come in. your eyes widened once you took her in and dropped your keys on the counter. "natasha! when did you get home? i thought you were going to be gone for another week?" she looked at you dumbfounded, focusing on the leather piece on your body and how it made your eyes sparkle just the right way and accentuated every part of you that she liked, she was picturing what you'd look like in nothing but the jacket- "nat?" you closed the door behind you, reaching to take off the jacket and get closer to your girlfriend. "oh no, no, no, leave it on. i'd much rather be the one taking it off." you would laugh at the smirk she had on, rushing to meet her lips against your own in a fit of giggles. "you're ridiculous, natasha romanoff" you'd say as she pulled back to take you in once again, "oh, but you love me y/n".

⋆｡°✩

playing with your hair:

she would loveee playing with your hair, whether it was brushing her fingers through it or combing it after you'd gotten out of the shower, or simply braiding it when she had the chance, she loved the feeling of being able to replace memories from her past with moments like these with you. i assume the red room was strict with what they allowed the widow's to wear, and do as well as being extremely competitive between all the girls. she probably had to learn how to braid her own hair by watching how the other girls would do so, being afraid to be put against them in combat for trying to "make friends" with her competition. she was glad to have someone who, instead of pushing her to open up, would allow her to share what she could about her past while being a soothing balm for her trauma and making her excited for her future.

⋆｡°✩

nightmares:

her fears and memories only came at night when she closed her eyes and those tortures of her past would come flooding back. i'd assume that when she joined SHEILD mandatory therapy and counseling would be necessary. being diagnosed with PTSD among other things, she'd probably learned how to not let her past get to her and how to stable herself in the present, but all that faded away when it came to times when she couldn't escape her dreams. she sometimes didn't even remember what plagued her nights when she awoke, feeling like she'd been put through the ringer. her scars, fully healed and forgotten, would sting, and her head would be pounding, as trickles of sweat littered her body. she'd awake after trashing and fighting invisible demons in bed, struggling or crying out for help. but you'd always be there to calm her.

"nat- nat!" you shook her awake. her eyes shot open with a gasp, she saw red. "get away from me!" she screamed and got up from bed, falling to the ground and huddled herself away in the corner. her face between her knees, her whole body shaking in fear. you'd talked with Bruce about this, he said the best move would be to turn on the lights and approach slowly, letting her see her surroundings and view you, to take in the fact that you weren't a threat. you got up and turn on your lamps. "nat, natty baby, it's me- it's y/n" you would grab some water and would approach her with caution, watching as her eyes shot around the room as she fully wakes up from her nightmares. as soon as she realized where she was and who she was with, the tears would come faster. "i'm sorry- i-i'm so sorry for waking you, i had no idea- i couldn't-" you scurried up to her side "hey, hey, hey" she'd stop and turn to look at you, sniffling as she lowered her knees. "none of that baby, are you okay? i got some water, here drink" she'd take a sip and put the glass down, zoning out and dissociating from her surroundings. you grab her chin and turn her to face you, her eyes meeting your own. "where'd you go?" her lip would start trembling as tears welled in her eyes. "th-they were all around me, looking at me like a piece of meat- i couldn't even defend myself, i was powerless- they-" her eyes would look away and began to focus on something else, you could sense her getting lost in the memory again. "nat, nat hey, hey. it's okay- you're here now, you're with me, you're away from him- from them. you're safe" she'd snap out of it and would wrap her arms around you suddenly, clinging on to you like a vice. "let's get you into the shower, yeah? let's wash you up and drink some tea yeah?" she'd only nod into your neck, and you'd lift her, taking her to the bathroom to help wash away the painful remnants of a rough night.

⋆｡°✩

the end! i was planning to add more but i thought i should see how this does first and then make another addition, if you guys would like! please let me know and if you have any constructive criticism, feel free to message me! :)

[maxyartwork]

🩰✨ black widow

[loveisonlyforthebrave8]

Look, I know I owe you an explanation. My behaviour was appalling-

[jasmines-library]

Batfamily headcanons with batsis that used to be a Black Widow please?

Note: Thank you for requesting, I hope this is okay as I don't tend to write headcanons a lot, but I had fun with this and I thought that the idea was so cool!

The first time they met you, you had taken them by surprise, which was unusual for them as being vigilantes meant that they were always on high alert.

⛤ They were on patrol and you had snuck past them, taking out the criminals before they even had time to blink and then pinning them down from behind.

⛤ Although they were skeptical at first, it hadn't taken long for the four boys to develop a liking for you, especially Damian who was in complete awe of the way fought and slunk around the streets, although you would be lying if you said that he wasn't the teeniest bit jealous.

⛤ They saw you a few times after that. Your training made you hard to track down, but they were skilled to and with some digging, Tim had managed to find you.

⛤ You all became thick as thieves after that, often going out on patrol with each other.

⛤ And soon Bruce invited you to stay.

⛤ At first, you were hesitant. Your time in the Red Room had lead you to develop some trust issues but you took a leap and boy were you glad you did.

⛤ There is always something to do with the vigilantes; training, reading, watching movies. and you quickly became a part of their weekly routines.

⛤They love having you around too, often asking you to help them with their stealth and training.

⛤ You had to work around the assassinations with Bruce because they broke his 'no killing rule.', but after discussing with him and Jason, the three of you came to a suitable compromise and you become a huge part of protecting Gotham and of their lives.

⛤ You would do anything to protect them as they would for you.

[jay-ce01]

“A new chapter”

Natasha x Fem!Reader

Warning : Pregnancy ?

Words : 2k

The early morning light filtered through the sheer curtains of their bedroom, casting a soft, golden hue over the room. Natasha Romanoff lay sprawled beneath the sheets, her red hair spilling over the pillow like a fiery halo. Beside her, you stirred gently, feeling the warmth of the sunlight kissing your skin. Instinctively, your hand drifted to the small bump on your stomach, a tiny life that had grown inside you over the past five months.

Natasha, who was never much of a morning person unless it involved a mission, shifted slightly and wrapped her arm around your waist. “You’re awake,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

“Mmm,” you responded softly, resting your hand over hers. “So are you.”

A lazy smile tugged at Natasha’s lips as she blinked her eyes open, catching sight of you, her wife, the love of her life, and now the soon-to-be mother of her child. It was a sight she would never tire of. “How are you feeling today?” she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Better,” you replied, leaning into her touch. “Not as queasy as yesterday. I think the worst of the morning sickness is finally behind me.”

Natasha’s green eyes softened with relief. Though she was known for her cool, composed demeanor in the field, you had seen a different side of her throughout this pregnancy. She had been attentive, caring, and fiercely protective, never missing a beat when it came to making sure you were comfortable and healthy.

“Good,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I’m glad.”

You turned to face her, cupping her cheek in your hand. “You’re going to make a great mom, you know.”

Natasha laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “I hope so,” she said. “I’m still learning how to do this.”

“You don’t have to know everything right away,” you reassured her. “We’ll figure it out together.”

She nodded, though you could tell she still carried the weight of her insecurities. Natasha’s past had been riddled with pain and loss, her childhood stolen away by the Red Room, where she had been trained to be a weapon rather than a person. The idea of being a mother—of nurturing and caring for another human being—was new and terrifying to her. But she was trying, for you, for your family.

“Come on,” you said, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. “Let’s get some breakfast.”

Natasha groaned, reluctantly letting go of you as you stood. She stretched her arms above her head, her muscles rippling beneath her skin. Even in her most relaxed moments, there was an edge to Natasha, a constant readiness that came from years of espionage and survival.

As you made your way to the kitchen, you couldn’t help but smile at the simplicity of it all. Your life with Natasha had been filled with ups and downs, from the chaos of her missions with the Avengers to the quiet moments like these. But it was the quiet moments you cherished most—the times when it was just the two of you, no world to save, no battles to fight, just love and each other.

In the kitchen, you busied yourself preparing breakfast. The smell of fresh coffee filled the air, and you reached for the pancake mix, suddenly craving something sweet.

Natasha appeared behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder. “You’re making pancakes?” she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Yep,” you replied, grinning. “Pancakes for me and the baby.”

Natasha chuckled softly, placing a gentle kiss on your neck. “I’ll never understand how your cravings work.”

“Neither will I,” you admitted, laughing. “But I’m going with it.”

As you cooked, Natasha helped where she could, setting the table and making sure everything was just right. It was moments like these that reminded you how far you had come together. Years ago, when you had first met, Natasha had been guarded, distant even. She had built walls around herself to protect her heart, but somehow, you had broken through.

It hadn’t been easy. Your relationship had faced its fair share of challenges, from Natasha’s past to the unpredictable nature of her work. But through it all, you had loved each other fiercely, and that love had grown into something beautiful. Now, with a child on the way, your bond felt stronger than ever.

Over breakfast, you and Natasha talked about everything and nothing—the baby’s nursery, possible names, and how much your lives were about to change. Natasha still had that familiar look in her eyes, that subtle mix of excitement and fear.

As you cleared the table, Natasha caught your wrist gently, her touch feather-light. "Y/N..." she began, her voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "What if I... what if I don't know how to be a mother?"

You paused, setting the dishes down and turning to face her fully. This was a conversation you knew was coming, but it still made your heart ache to see the vulnerability in her expression. Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, rarely let her guard down, and when she did, it was only with you.

You took her hands in yours, squeezing them softly. "Tasha, you are going to be a wonderful mother."

She shook her head slightly, her eyes downcast. "I wasn't raised with love or warmth. I don’t know what a normal family looks like."

Your heart broke for her. You knew Natasha's past haunted her, the trauma of the Red Room, the years spent as a spy, the lives she had taken. But you also knew the woman she had become—the woman who had fought so hard to make amends, who had chosen love over isolation, who had made a life with you.

"You’re not defined by your past," you said softly, lifting her chin so her eyes met yours. "You’re kind, caring, and protective. You’ve already shown me what kind of mother you’ll be, just by how you love me. You don’t have to know everything right away. We’ll learn together. We’ll make mistakes, sure. But we’ll figure it out. Together."

Natasha's lips quirked into a small, uncertain smile. "Together," she repeated, her voice soft.

You leaned in, kissing her gently, your hands resting against her chest. “Besides,” you whispered against her lips, “I have complete faith in you. You're one of the strongest people I know, and if anyone can do this, it's you."

Natasha’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as she buried her face in the crook of your neck. Her breath was warm against your skin, and you felt her relax, the tension easing from her body.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll always be here for you, Tasha. Always.”

---

As the weeks passed, your pregnancy progressed steadily, and Natasha became more and more involved in preparing for the baby’s arrival. She threw herself into the task with the same dedication she had for her missions, researching parenting techniques, attending every doctor’s appointment with you, and even reading baby books at night.

Despite her initial reservations, Natasha had embraced the idea of becoming a mother with a quiet determination. You watched with pride as she grew more confident, though there were still moments of doubt. Whenever those moments arose, you were there to remind her that you were in this together.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you and Natasha sat on the couch, the soft glow of the TV illuminating the room as an old movie played in the background. Your head rested on her lap, and she absentmindedly ran her fingers through your hair. You felt peaceful, content, and safe.

“I can’t believe we’re going to be parents soon,” you mused, your hand resting on your growing belly.

Natasha smiled down at you, her eyes soft with affection. “It’s still surreal to me too,” she admitted. “But in a good way.”

You chuckled. “I hope our kid has your determination. And your sense of justice.”

“And your kindness,” Natasha added. “Your warmth. They’ll need that.”

Your heart swelled at her words, and you turned slightly to meet her gaze. “They’re going to be lucky to have you as a mom, Natasha.”

Natasha brushed a strand of hair from your face, her touch tender. “And they’ll be lucky to have you too, Y/N.”

---

The months flew by, and soon, you were in your final trimester. The nursery was finished, the tiny clothes neatly folded, and the crib assembled. Natasha had even painted the room herself, a soft shade of lavender that filled the space with a sense of calm and tranquility.

One night, as you lay in bed together, you felt a sudden, sharp kick from the baby. You gasped softly, your hand flying to your stomach.

Natasha immediately sat up, her eyes wide with concern. “What? What is it? Are you okay?”

You smiled, taking her hand and placing it on your belly. “Feel that.”

Natasha’s eyes widened as she felt the movement beneath her palm. Her face lit up with wonder and awe as she felt another kick. “Wow…” she breathed, her voice filled with emotion.

“She’s strong,” you whispered, grinning.

Natasha’s lips curved into a soft smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She leaned down, pressing her cheek against your belly. “Hey, little one,” she whispered. “It’s your mama. I can’t wait to meet you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at the sight of Natasha speaking to your child, her voice filled with so much love and tenderness. This was the side of her that only you saw—the side of Natasha that was vulnerable, open, and full of love.

As the days passed and the due date drew closer, the anticipation built. You and Natasha continued to support each other through the final stages of the pregnancy, and with each passing day, the reality of becoming parents became more and more tangible.

---

The night your water broke, it was raining outside, a heavy downpour that soaked the streets. Natasha had been pacing the living room, her nerves getting the best of her, when you suddenly gasped, clutching your stomach.

“Tasha,” you breathed, “it’s time.”

Natasha’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she froze. Then, in typical Natasha fashion, she sprang into action, grabbing your hospital bag and helping you to the car.

The drive to the hospital was a blur, but Natasha never left your side. She held your hand through every contraction, whispered words of encouragement, and reassured you when the pain became overwhelming.

Hours passed, but Natasha remained steadfast, her love and support unwavering. And when the baby was finally born, when the tiny cry filled the room, both of you were overcome with emotion.

Tears streamed down Natasha’s face as the nurse placed your daughter in her arms. She looked down at the tiny, perfect face, her eyes wide with wonder. You watched as Natasha’s tough exterior crumbled, replaced by a softness you had never seen before.

“She’s beautiful,” Natasha whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Just like you.”

You smiled through your own tears, your heart overflowing with love. “We did it, Tasha.”

Natasha looked at you, her eyes filled with so much love it took your breath away. “We did,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss you gently. “And I couldn’t have done it without you.”

As you gazed down at your daughter, now resting peacefully in Natasha’s arms, you knew that this was the beginning of a new chapter. A chapter filled with love, laughter, and the beautiful chaos of parenthood.

And no matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew that you and Natasha would face them together, as a family.