#katyaromanoffpetrova

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

Trojan Horse (crime boss AU: part III)

Natasha gets sent on her most dangerous mission yet: go undercover in the drug operation of the biggest crime empress in the world and take her down. But as they grow closer, she starts to forget about the mission more and more...

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC (Katya Petrova) second pov on Ao3 • Wordcount: 6.1k (no wonder it took so long to write lol) • Warnings: PLEASE READ: murder, torture (detailed), gore, blood, dead bodies • A/N: we finally get to see Katya as you expect her to be (the warnings give it away) Masterlist Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

Something was wrong. 

Trouble. 

Hushed whispers, frequent meetings in Katya's office, weapons shipped out, girls secretly leaving the compound at night, armed to the teeth—signs that something serious was brewing.

It all started after that mysterious phone call Katya got, two days ago. Whatever news it delivered, it triggered all this ruckus. 

The air in the compound felt heavier. People were on edge, tense, waiting for something. Katya locked herself in her office. The girls from her inner circle pretended that nothing was wrong, but they moved differently. Stiffer. Conversations didn't flow.

Nobody said anything. The problem existed only in the shadows, hidden from anyone too oblivious to notice the shift in the atmosphere, the secrecy. 

But Natasha's eyes were always stuck to the shadows. 

She spent her nights lurking through the curtains of her small bedroom, making notes of everything in a small notebook she hid under the floorboards—the shipments going out, the people sneaking around—trying to piece together what was going on. 

With a business like this, the list of possible threats was endless. Ranging from anything like nosy cops to an all out gang war. 

Though Natasha doubted that Katya was this nervous about a couple cops, she was feeling increasingly restless herself, anxiety bubbling underneath her skin every waking moment. If she was in danger, she needed to know, and she wasn't used to being on the outside.

Lina, Aika, Salmah, Paola, and Ana—the woman Katya hooked up with a week ago—were people she kept a close eye on. They made multiple trips to the house, day and night, and barely interacted with anyone but each other. They were also Katya's longest serving and most loyal Ghosts. If anyone knew anything, it was them.

But straight up asking what was going on was not an option. Natasha had never spoken to them, and it's not like they would tell her anything to begin with. She hadn't earned the right to know secrets. She was just a rookie, someone insignificant until proven otherwise.

Her only option was to do what she did best; spy. Make herself invisible and come close enough to gather information the classic way, by using her ears and her eyes.

That wasn't easy in a place where everyone knew everyone. Where guards walked their rounds day and night, their eyes peeled for suspicious activity. Where even in the dark, every corner was well-lit and provided no cover.

It required a perfect balance of risk and patience. Something Natasha mastered through all her years of undercover work. But never had the stakes been so high.

On a dark, moonless night, three days after the phone call, Natasha first left the safety of her bedroom. The same things as in the past two nights had been happening outside; trucks pulling up, gear loaded in, women gathering around. She'd already written down everything she could see from a distance—which wasn't much—and so in order to know more, she needed to get closer.

Braiding her hair down her back and slipping on her jacket, Natasha snuck out of her room, armed with nothing but a knife hidden in her boot. The building was exceptionally silent, her footsteps bouncing off the white walls and orange tiles as she passed rows of bedrooms, filled with sleeping Ghosts. The outer door creaked when it opened. Natasha cringed, quickly shutting it and putting as much distance between it and herself as she could.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she rounded the back of the building. She was near the front of the property now, only a few rows of trees and bushes separating her from the tall fence and front gate. Slowly, she crept closer, pressed against the wall, leaning forward enough to see around the corner of the building.

The fountain, located in the dead center of the square, was blocked from Natasha's view by two cars. Black SUV's, tinted windows. Multiple women were busy loading them, communicating mostly silently by hand gestures and nods that Natasha couldn't decipher. 

From her point of view, she couldn't see what they were putting in the back of the cars. Too many legs were in her way, and the car was parked with its nose in her direction. She also couldn't make out if Katya was with them. A quick headcount gave her seven women, the darkness hiding most of their identities.

Natasha clenched her jaw in frustration, shifting her weight back to conceal herself again. This wasn't a helpful stakeout at all. Way too much risk, way too little results. She was going to need to find another spot.

A sharp branch of a bush nicked her neck when she crawled backwards. Cursing quietly, she straightened up as soon as she could, brushing dirt off her knees and hands as she quickly walked to the other side of the building, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. 

Having to relocate was a bad idea. If she were any smarter, she would have called her plan off. Her new spot lacked cover, and was twice as bright as her previous one had been. 

Instead of some bushes, she was now standing between the building that housed the sleeping quarters, and another building. Dressed in all black like she was, her figure showed up against the white walls around her like an ink blot on paper.

But curiosity and anxiety gnawed at her chest. This was too good of an opportunity to let slide. So, she pressed her back to the wall and shuffled to the edge, gravel grinding beneath her boots.

In the time it took her to move, nothing significant changed in the square. She still counted seven women, surrounding two cars. But the backs of the vehicles were now pointed in her direction, the trunk doors open wide.

Squinting through the faint light, Natasha tried to make out the shapes and boxes in the back. They weren't unlike the boxes they loaded in the past two nights. Hard shell, black, standard. Probably weapons. She couldn't be sure without reading the letters on top. 

Next to the boxes were large duffel bags that could be holding anything. Clothes, money, drugs. She couldn't rule anything out with Katya. The woman had her toes dipped in so many different types of crime.

Then there were more things scattered around, but it was too dark to make out what they were. Probably more war related things. Tech, maybe. The Ghosts kept blocking Natasha's view, their voices too soft to make out any actual words, the surroundings too dark to read lips.

Time continued to tick away. This wasn't the high risk, high reward night Natasha was hoping for. So far, she'd gotten no rewards, and taken too much risk. If only she had some of SHIELD's tech at hand. A listening device or a GPS tracker that she could stick to one of the cars.

Just as she contemplated her next move, a boom of thunder sounded behind her. 

Natasha flew backwards, but she was too late. The sound had drawn the attention of the women in the square, turning their heads in its direction—Natasha's direction—before the redhead could hide.

"Hey!"

Natasha had to make a split second decision. She couldn't be sure if they saw her face, and she didn't know how they'd react to her presence here, but she decided to take a chance. She was desperate for information, and had hit a dead end by just watching from a distance.

When she stepped out of her hiding spot, one of the women from the group, Paola, was already stalking towards her with big steps. Her scowl made even Natasha falter in her plans. For a moment, she felt like a kid who got caught pushing over their little sister. 

When faced with these situations, Natasha did what she did best; act innocent and small. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be nosy, but I heard noise, and—"

''What are you doing here?'' Paola demanded, one of her hands pressing against the machine gun at her hip. She was tough, firm, one of those people allergic to bullshit. Her eyes bore into Natasha.

''I couldn't sleep, I– I just wanted to go for a walk to clear my head," Natasha stammered through her words.

''You seem to go on night walks a lot.''

Natasha glanced at the floor, making herself look small. She shifted in her spot. ''I have a hard time sleeping. Every time I close my eyes, I'm back in that truck.'' She clenched her fingers into fists. ''It's—''

''Paola, give her a break." 

That calm, controlled voice… 

Tension fell off Natasha's shoulders. She looked up, Paola glanced over her shoulder. Katya emerged from the dark, her fingers wrapped around the gun holster around her chest. 

It was the first time in three days that Natasha saw her, and she looked nothing like she expected. Katya's relaxed posture didn't reflect the nervous activity in the compound at all, as if she wasn't worried, but her outfit signaled that something was indeed going on. 

She'd traded her heels for flat boots, her silk blouse for a simple t-shirt, and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Functional. A simple handgun sat snuggled against her left breast, held in place by the holster. She may look in control, but she expected trouble, or a fight.

Natasha swallowed harshly as Katya's eyes found hers. Under her gaze, she felt exposed, strangely vulnerable. While she stood here as Nadia, she couldn't help but feel like Katya saw Natasha instead. It scared her less than it should.

"The transition isn't easy, but you seem to be handling it well," Katya complimented, tilting her head as she studied the redhead before her. Natasha grew slightly uneasy. That look usually meant people had plans for her. "Why don't you come with us tonight?''

Natasha's eyes widened. Part of her surprise wasn't faked, and neither was Paola's. ''What?''

A flicker of amusement flashed across Katya's face. ''I'm going out to handle a problem in one of the warehouses. You should see what it is that we really do.''

Just like that. Paola's expression turned sour. Natasha didn't blame her. She acted weird and suspicious, and Katya basically handed her a promotion.

''Okay,'' Natasha agreed, taken aback. This was working out way better than she could have planned it herself.

Katya gave a satisfied nod. She looked over her shoulder, calling out a name. ''Marta.'' A stern-looking, tan woman with a short, dark ponytail stepped over to her boss. ''Nadia is coming with us. She's your responsibility tonight. Get her ready.''

''Yes, ma'am.'' Marta nodded. She beckoned Natasha to follow her, and the redhead politely pushed past Katya. 

The back of the truck was full of weapons and gear, exactly like Natasha thought. All neatly organized, locked in black boxes and secured onto the wall. It was the first time she got a glimpse of Katya's arsenal, and she let her eyes travel over everything as Marta gathered some stuff together, cataloguing it, calculating numbers.

Machine guns, shotguns, sniper rifles, grenades, knives, night vision goggles, helmets, bulletproof vests…the list went on. An impressive range. Intimidating, and undoubtedly only a fragment of the whole collection. Enough to take out a village.

Marta helped her into a bulletproof vest—like Natasha couldn't put one on in her sleep—and then equipped her with the same machine gun Paola had on her. She gave no instructions on how to use it, but shoved an extra magazine into the back pocket of her jeans. 

"So, what am I supposed to do?'' Natasha asked. 

Marta slammed the trunk door shut and turned to her with an expression so severe that Natasha truly felt like a clueless rookie. ''Our objective is to keep the boss safe. You stay with her, at all times. Shoot back at anything that shoots at us. Understood?"

Natasha nodded. "I understand." Keeping Katya alive was also high on her own, secret to do list.

"Good. Keep your eyes up, stay sharp. Danger can linger anywhere."

Everyone seemed to be ready. Bulletproof vests were on, guns were loaded. There were nine of them in total, now. Natasha wasn't sure where they were going or what they were going to do—only that it involved a warehouse of some sort—but nine people were not enough to fight a gang war.

She had a feeling that these eight Ghosts mostly served as protection. Protection in a place where things could go sideways in the blink of an eye.

"Let's move!" Katya called out. Everyone filed into the cars, engines starting up.

"You're in the back," Marta ordered.

Natasha nodded, turning to the backseat, and stiffening when she saw who was already in there. 

No time to hesitate. She climbed in beside Katya, sandwiching her between herself and a woman named Gianna, and shut the door.

The SUV looked spacy from the outside, but the backseat of any car would always be cramped with three people on it. Katya's thigh pressed against Natasha's, sending tingles through her leg where their bodies touched each other. Natasha shifted as far away as possible, her hip digging into the door as the car began to move. The right side of her body burned.

They drove through the gate and into the dark woods—the first time Natasha left the compound in a little under three weeks. It's when every tree started to look like a threat that she realized how safe she'd felt inside those gates. With the security it had, she'd only had to worry about the threats inside the walls, and those were incredibly low so far.

She didn't ask where they were going. Marta sat in the front, stoically staring through the windshield, and Katya had pulled out a tablet, reading through things Natasha couldn't make out. The car was too shaky and the text too small. 

The forest was so disorienting that she had no idea how long they had been driving for when they pulled up to another guarded gate. Two heavily armed women walked up to the car, doing a quick scan before letting them pass. Behind the gates seemed to be nothing but more darkness, but Natasha made out the faint shape of a building.

She tried not to show how on edge she was. This outpost, or whatever it was, was in none of the files. New territory she hadn't prepared for. Aerial pictures she hadn't studied. She went in blind.

The cars stopped. Everyone filed out of them, and then someone finally turned on some lights. 

A helicopter.

So that's how Katya could be places so quickly. Natasha understood why nobody had ever seen this place on satellite imaging. The trees were still huddled together here, the roof of the hangar hidden underneath the blanket of leaves. There was only a gap wide enough to fit the helicopter, and nothing more. 

The vehicle itself was military grade. Long, dark grey, and held space for twenty people in the back. Or twenty crates of drugs.

Natasha followed the others inside, unsure if she was supposed to stay at Katya's side, but a spot was left open for her, so she took it as a sign to do so. They strapped in and rose into the air a minute later, filling Natasha's ears with nothing but the sound of the engine and the blades circling around above her head. 

Katya's perfume burned in her nose, the glow of her tablet illuminating her face as she read and tapped and swiped on it. Natasha wanted to ask her where they were going, but something stopped her from doing so. She had to trust her not to lead them into a situation too dangerous. The woman was too smart to do so.

They flew for a while. Natasha's guess was around fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. She tried to recall a map of the area, but without knowing which direction they went, the possibilities were useless. Eventually, they lowered to the ground, and she stuck to Katya's side when the door slid open.

The helicopter had landed in a field in the middle of nowhere. Three cars waited for them a short distance away, same make and model as the SUV's they left behind earlier. Each one had two women flanking it, their hands wrapped around some serious looking machine guns. Ghosts.

Katya didn't hesitate to approach. One woman peeled away from the other five and met her halfway, their hands meeting in a formal greeting. Katya's eyebrows pulled together with sorrow as she addressed her. "I'm sorry for your loss."

The woman bowed her head. "Me too."

The interaction only fueled Natasha's confusion. She went wherever Katya went, so she ended up beside her in the back of an SUV again, looking out the window as they drove off the field and started down a road. 

Pretty soon, the first buildings showed up, and Natasha finally knew where they were; the large city—a metropolis—that bordered the forest which housed Katya's compound, sixty-two miles away. 

It was known for its poor communities that formed a ring around the rich city center. The slums were dirty, dangerous, but twenty-five percent of all inhabitants of this city lived in it. It was breeding grounds for crime, drugs, and gangs. 

At least it used to be.

"I have warehouses in places like this all over." Katya's voice startled Natasha. She hadn't spoken or acknowledged her for an hour, but now Katya looked straight at her as she started explaining. "Fragile, poor communities with no prospects. I sweep in, clear their streets of petty crime, provide them with basic necessities like clean water, electricity, jobs and good education."

"In exchange for?" Natasha asked.

A cunning smile tugged on Katya's lips, difficult to see in the darkness. "Money, of course. Rent, and protection." 

Natasha hummed in acknowledgment. The scenes outside the car weren't new to her. She'd been in slums like this before. Colorful but small houses, made of plastic, wood, and poor pieces of metal, huddled together and stacked on top of each other on the hill side. Trash was everywhere, holes so deep in the road that it would break any car's suspension. 

She hated the atmosphere in these places the most. Despair and hopelessness with an underlying tension.

"About eighty percent of the adults in these areas are dependent on some sort of substance. Tobacco, alcohol, cannabis, heroin, cocaine, you name it," Katya continued, her eyes skimming the dark street outside. Everyone ducked away when they saw the cars coming, eyes watching them pass from behind dark windows and tight alleys. "I monopolize all of it; take over the businesses and dealers so only my product is available. At a good price, of course." 

Natasha didn't have to look over to see the smirk on her face. It was a cruel business. Katya preyed on people's weaknesses and left them no choice. They had to buy her products, or they had nothing. They had to pay rent, or she'd kick them out of their houses. 

And, undoubtedly, if the whole neighborhood resisted her rule, she would take away the things she'd given the community, leaving space for crime again. 

As long as they did what she said, there was peace; she protected them, she provided for them. 

"Do they ever resist?"

"Sometimes. Usually, the normal folk are so eager for better living conditions that they gladly trade one evil for another." Natasha looked at her. It was the first time Katya had called herself evil. Did she agree, or did she simply echo what others called her? "But the local gangs like to struggle."

Something dark passed over Katya's features. The temperature in the car seemed to lower, a cold shiver running down Natasha's spine.

"They're dumb idiots, protecting their territory and their honor, or some shit. Giving up their power, especially to a woman, is the last thing they want to do." Katya's voice had a bite to it. "But they're not too stupid to see that they can't win. Men act tough, but the moment they look death in the eye, they cower back fast."

Natasha could only agree with her there. "And then they stay down?"

"Usually. Sometimes, they try to retaliate. Nothing serious. Small groups that we easily put back in line." Katya paused, her eyebrows knotting together. "But in this area, gang activity is still strong. I tried to root them all out, but they went underground, scheming. Three days ago, they tried to raid the warehouse. We held, but a few containers with products were set on fire."

The call she received.

"Two hours ago, they tried again." She clenched her jaw, visibly upset. Natasha had only ever seen her confident and strong, but a sadness burned in her eyes. "We lost three of our own. A few others are badly hurt. They said there must have been over thirty men. Only ten of my people guard the warehouse at all times"

Natasha may not agree with this lifestyle, with the crime and the violence, but she would never be able to turn her feelings off over dead people. "I'm so sorry," she muttered, once again surprised by how much Katya cared about her employees. 

In the grand scheme of her operation, three people was nothing. She had hundreds ready to replace them. Even the products in that warehouse couldn't matter too much. What was a million dollars on a billion?

But a fierce anger replaced Katya's sorrow. "They made a really, really big mistake," she growled. "I'm gonna hunt every last one of them down and break all their fingers before putting them in the ground."

Natasha's heart skipped a beat. 

From the outside, the warehouse looked calm. No activity, no big red lights or blaring alarms. The gate was open, and the three cars pulled up right to the building. 

Only when Natasha got out, and the large roll-up door opened, pouring light from inside the warehouse to the small driveway in the front, did she start to see signs of carnage. Blood stained the concrete beneath her boots, shell casings lying all around. Barrels had fallen over in the corner.

As Natasha followed Katya inside, things only got worse. Large pools of blood glistened underneath the fluorescents, blood splatters covered every surface; crates, barrels, boxes, walls. Things had fallen over, thrown around and blown apart. A suspicious looking substance slowly poured out of one of the crates, white dust piling up on the floor. 

It's like a tornado raged through the building.

Multiple Ghosts were on the floor, either sitting or lying down, with bandages covering different parts of their bodies. The only person not wearing black—a woman in her early fifties—tended to their injuries, her hands stained with blood. Probably a doctor from the hospital nearby, bought with drugs money. She was busy sewing a bullet wound shut on one of the Ghost's legs.

Katya went straight for them, asking the doctor for the details on all the injuries. Everyone would be fine—only two were transferred to the hospital by ambulance—but it was clear that most of these women wouldn't be working for a few weeks.

Katya put on a strong front as she stopped by every single one of her employees that was hurt in the attack. She spoke to them, calmed them down, and gave them her condolences on the loss of their colleagues. They looked glad to see her, giving her sad smiles that she mirrored with one of her own.

When she'd talked to all of them, she could no longer ignore the three dark blue pieces of tarp on the floor in the back of the room. Pain crossed her face as she crouched by the first one, slowly pulling the plastic back to reveal a young blonde woman with pale, grey skin. Someone had closed her eyes, but that didn't make it any better. 

Natasha watched with a mix of interest and sadness how Katya placed her hand on the woman's head and closed her eyes, muttering something under her breath before opening them again. She looked at the lifeless face a moment longer before sliding the tarp back in place. Then she stood and repeated the same process with the other two bodies, like a ritual.

Natasha felt like she was intruding on something, but she couldn't look away. The gesture was so gentle, so human, and she saw that these deaths truly touched Katya, the untouchable woman. 

"Marta," Katya looked straight at the woman who had been next to Natasha the entire time. "Get a few people to put these women into a truck. They'll be given a proper burial at home."

"Yes, ma'am."

Katya waited until she was gone to turn to the woman whose hand she shook in the abandoned field. "Where are the others?" Her voice had that angry edge again.

"Around back. Eleven bodies." Those must be the gang members these Ghosts had managed to kill before the rest of them fled. Not bad.

"Dump them in the river," Katya ordered coldly. Natasha's stomach flipped around. The other woman didn't flinch or hesitate, so this must be business as usual for them. 

"We kept one of them alive for you. He's in the back."

Katya's tense expression lightened up like someone had just given her the best news ever. A predatory, hungry look filled her eyes. "Nice work." The woman walked off, leaving just Natasha and Paola. "You two are with me."

A metal door led them to a smaller room in the back of the warehouse. It looked like a break room of sorts, with chairs and a few tables that were now pushed to the side to make room for a single chair in the middle of the space. Two Ghosts kept watch over the bloody, broken man tied to the piece of furniture, rope digging into his wrists from where they were secured to the armrests.

"Has he said anything?" Katya asked them.

"Not a word."

Malice flashed across her face as she stepped up to the man. Controlled, slow, radiating the confidence Natasha had gotten used to. If she were him, she'd have peed her pants, but he didn't even look up when her boots stopped right before his chair. 

"Eleven of your buddies are being tossed into the river as we speak. Don't get your hopes up—you will follow them, whether that's in one part or in little pieces."

The man scowled at her, blood dripping down his face and neck, staining his black shirt and pants, but he didn't speak. Katya slipped her hands into the pockets of her pants, pulling her shoulders back.

"Unfortunately for you, I'm not a very patient person. I'm used to getting what I want, so I'm only giving you one chance to come clean." 

She slowly started to circle his chair, like a predator would its prey. He tried not to show his unease, but he stiffened in his seat when she passed behind him.

Katya bent forward when she stood in front of him again, pressing him back into the seat with her aura alone. Her eyes were cold, unforgiving, as she demanded calmly; "I want names. All of them."

For a long moment, they stared at each other, the man squinting through his swollen eye. He wore an expression of pure loathing and hatred, and if he wasn't tied tightly to the chair, he probably would have lunged at her. Natasha kept her hand securely on her gun.

She knew this man wasn't going to speak without some encouragement. He was too proud to concede, too loyal, even after being beaten to a pulp.

Without warning, he bent his head and spat at Katya's feet. A thick splatter of saliva and blood landed on her boot.

Before Natasha could react, Katya backhanded him across the face. So hard that he fell over, chair and all. A strangled cry fell from his lips, more blood pouring out of his nose. With a wave of her fingers, Katya signaled the girls to put him upright.

"Enough," she said harshly, leaning over him again, her face only inches from his. She reached into her belt and pulled out a knife. "No more playing nice. I want names, now."

Adrenaline pulsed through Natasha's veins. She would never admit that she was enjoying this, but she was.

The man's chest heaved. From pain, from being slapped around, from anger. Blood stained his lips as he opened them to speak. "Fuck you."

A bone chilling scream rang through the air. Natasha's eyes widened. The man's pointer finger, previously snugly attached to his hand, now lay on the floor by his feet. Katya's expression hadn't changed.

"Let's try that again."

This. This was the Katya that Natasha had expected from the beginning. Merciless, violent, cruel.

She should feel disgusted, shouldn't she? Repulsion? Katya had just cut off a man's finger without blinking twice. An action that was far from humane. And Natasha didn't doubt that she would go—and had gone—so much further than that.

But the reality was; Natasha wasn't the purest either. Her hands were stained too. Was she honestly in any position to judge? Were her own actions justifiable, just because she did it with the right intentions? Because she worked for the "right" side. In Katya's eyes, she worked for the right side too. 

It was all a matter of perspective. And as Natasha watched the scene before her, she came to the realization that she felt something way stronger than aversion; a twisted form of admiration. Again. Katya crossed all the lines to protect her business and avenge the people she cared about.

Natasha couldn't look away. She told herself that it was to keep her cover intact, but the truth was; Katya captivated her. She was, by far, the most intricate, fascinating person she'd ever met.

The man thrashed in his chair, struggling against the ropes to get free. Blood dripped from his hand, down the armrest, onto the floor. He wanted to kill Katya, but he could only sit and drown in his pain. 

"Names," she demanded. 

The only thing that came from his mouth were muffled cries of agony. He wasn't focused on her, only the pain radiating up his arm.

With a sigh, Katya switched the knife from one hand to the other. He didn't have time to protest before the knife slashed through his other pointer finger, the bone cracking satisfyingly.

He screamed out, blood gushing from the stump. Suddenly, he could speak, profanities in a thousand languages flying off his tongue. He trashed harder, reminding Natasha of a leashed feral dog that had its prey in sight. 

Pain had taken over his brain, taking away the rational part of him. All he saw was red while his face turned more and more pale. Katya took a step back, letting him rage for a while. When she stroked the blood off her knife, Natasha noticed her hands were steady as ever.

"Someone get something to write the names down," she said. Nobody questioned her. She waited until he had calmed down to approach him again. His body was slumped, sweat shining on his forehead, only half aware of reality.

Katya didn't place her knife on a finger this time. Instead, she stood behind him, her free hand grabbing onto his hair to keep his head still, while the other placed the knife on the skin where his ear was attached to his head. 

She pushed down only an eighth of an inch from the top, but the searing pain was enough to shock him back to reality. He cried out again, his blurry eyes focusing. "Stop! Stop!" 

Katya didn't stop. "Start calling out names, and maybe you'll be fast enough to spare your ear."

Natasha realized her heart was pounding in her ears when she had trouble hearing the first names he called out. Paola dotted them down rapidly, but Natasha couldn't be of any help. She couldn't look away from the psychotic calmness that was Katya as she sliced the man's ear off.

He wasn't done naming his crewmembers when his ear fell onto the floor, so Katya moved onto the other as motivation. In some miracle, he didn't pass out. Every inch of his skin was covered in blood. A puddle had collected underneath his chair by the time the second ear joined the first.

"That's all! I don't know any more! I swear!" He begged, his body shaking with weak sobs.

Katya believed him, or she figured that fourteen names was enough. She let his head go, and it slumped forwards onto his chest. She buzzed with energy when she rounded the chair, pulling her gun from her holster. He didn't see her point it at his head and click a bullet into place. 

"I'll tell your friends you said hi."

The gunshot rang out. His head snapped back, the life draining from his eyes until they were nothing but empty voids. He'd served his purpose.

The silence that followed was overwhelming. Nobody spoke as Katya holstered her weapon, stunned by what had happened. They all just stared at the body, the drops of blood falling onto the floor.

Natasha's thoughts went in a million different directions. Part of her brain analyzed the situation from a SHIELD agent's perspective. She'd witnessed Katya torture and murder a man; the evidence they needed to pin her down. She could add a whole list of characteristics to Katya's SHIELD file from just her behavior today.

And then there was the part of her brain that couldn't think about missions and government agencies right now. What she'd just witnessed was too real. It wasn't a game. Her whole body was alight with adrenaline. And for the first time, there was a flicker of doubt. She pushed it away before she could name it.

"Nadia. What are we going to do with the body?"

She startled out of her thoughts. Katya stared at her, expectantly, curiously. She was gauging Natasha's reaction to what she'd just seen. It was test.

Natasha wrecked her brain for everything she knew about gang wars. There were no rules. Cruelty was expected, not an exception. Nobody was spared, and fear was used as a weapon. The most inhumane murders she'd seen were at the hands of gangs. Slit throats, cut off hands and heads, carved up torsos and backs. They worked as an example.

An example. 

"Leave him in the street for all to see."

Approval glistened in Katya's hungry eyes. "Where?" She asked eagerly.

Natasha's heart beat out of her chest. Not from nerves. From the thrill. She felt sick with herself. 

"Isn't it a Sunday tomorrow?"

The body wiggled back and forth in the back of the pickup truck as Paola drove through the tight streets. The cool, midnight air blew over Natasha's warm skin as she pressed a foot to the covered body to keep it still. She felt sweaty, and a little uneasy to be dragging a maimed corpse around, but Katya loved her idea. So here they were.

She felt people's eyes on them as they passed dark houses. Their destination wasn't far, but danger lurked everywhere in these parts. Natasha was glad to see the building Katya described emerge in the truck's headlights. 

Unlike the houses, it was made of brick, and twice as high. Yellow, with a painted cross on the front. People were very religious here. Sunday morning church visits were almost mandatory, and attended by people of all kinds. 

It wasn't Natasha's intention to stain anything sacred. She just needed the busiest place in the neighborhood to make the most out of this statement of hers. It just so happened to be the church.

Paola stopped the truck and helped Natasha pull out the body. There was a stone bench right in front of the building. They rolled the man out of the tarp and propped him up against it, adjusting his hair and hands so it was obvious what was done to him. Then, Paola pulled out a rose and dropped it in his lap.

Everyone would know who did this. Let it be a warning for people who had delusional dreams of overthrowing the woman who ruled these streets.

"Let's go," Paola said. Natasha didn't protest. She was tired, and the night was far from over. They had the whole journey back to the compound to go. 

She climbed into the front of the truck and let Paola drive, her heart calming the further they got from the church. If she ever made it out of this, she had one hell of a story to tell Clint.

[milfs69420]

You belong with me - Part II

Natasha ran from her home country when she was 18, and has since been working at a stripclub in NYC. One night she spots a woman who seems all too familiar and turns out to be her childhood lover. While getting to know each other all over again, they discover new truths and old lies.

-Natasha Romanoff x Katya Petrova -Wordcount: 5,33K -Warnings: mentions of violence -A/N: I know it took a while but it's finally here, enjoy. Once again borrowed @katyaromanoffpetrova her babies, please note that Katya is a character she created, you can find the story through her page. I might actually hate this, but I hope you guys don't :)

We shall ignore any spelling or grammar errors for the sake of my sanity.

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!!

It took until Friday night, for Natasha to realise she had absolutely no clue where Katya was taking her. She spent the whole week thinking about seeing the brunette again, but she hadn’t thought much about the details of it all. Since she didn’t know where they were going, Natasha had no idea what to wear. Would it be cold or warm? Did it call for casual clothes or something fancy? Whatever she would wear, it had to impress Katya, but she couldn’t try too hard, obviously.

Natasha was going insane. She felt like a teenage girl all over again, worrying about impressing someone with her looks. Someone she hadn’t seen in years, no less. This whole situation took over far more thoughts than she would’ve liked, so she spent the rest of the night doing chores to distract herself, until she ended up falling asleep on the couch with Liho on her lap.

The next morning, she immediately regretted having ended up in that position. Her back was aching and her neck was stiff. She made her way to the kitchen and did some stretches while waiting on her coffee, when she noticed a box on the table. Packages were delivered downstairs, so Clint or Maria must have brought it here earlier in the morning. She went to take a closer look at it and spotted the label.

Natasha Romanoff

There was no address on the box, only her name, so someone had personally dropped it off here. Someone with very fancy handwriting, it seemed, and it got Natasha’s hopes up for the contents of the package. Before she could open it though, Maria walked through the kitchen door.

“You got a secret admirer, Romanoff?” The dark haired woman smiled at her teasingly.

Natasha decided it was best to ignore the comment for now, it was far too early in the morning to be explaining an entire story about her childhood lover. “Did you see who dropped it off?”

“Some odd guy, took himself much too serious. He was wearing a suit and everything.”

The Russian hated the disappointment she felt upon learning that it wasn’t Katya who had brought it. She suspected that whoever this mystery man was, had been there on behalf of the brunette. First, she tells her that she’s having a car pick the redhead up, now this. It seemed Katya was very well off these days, how she made a life for herself though, Natasha had no clue.

After talking to Maria some more, she made her way back to her own space and set the box down on her table. It seemed Natasha wasn’t the only one curious about the mysterious box, seeing as Liho hopped onto the table as soon as she had set it down. The cat inspected the package before sitting down next to it, as if to tell the redhead to hurry up and open it already.

“Okay fine, I’ll open it. Stop staring at me you little shit.”

Natasha could swear she saw the cat’s sharp claws make an appearance out of her soft paws, and decided it would be best to get on with opening the box. Not wanting to mess around with the cardboard for too long, she simply decided to stick a knife into top and drag it all the way to the bottom. In hindsight, that could have turned out quite badly, but lucky for her whatever was in the package was protected by another box. This second box was incredibly fancy, adorned with her name written in gold on the lid of it, and whatever was in there must be worth a sizeable amount of money.

She threw the cardboard to the side and opened up the package still on the table. Inside was a semi transparant kind of wrapping paper, with a note on top. As Natasha picked up the card, she saw yet another box on top of the paper. This one was small and flat, and the redhead had a hunch for what was inside. Before opening anything though, she flipped over the card to see what it said.

Dear Natalia,

I sincerely hope, that you look as good in this, as I pictured you would.

K.

The redhead wanted to be annoyed about Katya simply refusing to use her new name, she really did. But the idea that the brunette had been thinking about her, picturing what she looked like in whatever was hiding in that package, that idea drove her slightly insane.

She put the card aside and opened the small box, inside was some of the most gorgeous jewellery she’d ever seen. A delicate gold necklace, with an hourglass shape made out of rubies hanging off of it. The shape alone, was enough to have the gears in her head turning at a rapid pace. Memories of her teen years came back to her, when she’d received the news that she had to leave her foster family, and therefore the town she had met Katya in. The goodbye had been emotional, and the brunette had given her a ring to remember her by. A gold ring with a red hourglass symbol on it, one that Natasha couldn’t wear anymore because of its size.

Next to the necklace were several earrings and rings, all gold and some with red gemstones adorning them, and a bracelet with a charm connected to it. A small dagger, no doubt a hint to the nights they used to share, when Katya would teach her how to throw knives with unmatched precision, though she never got quite as good as the brunette. All of these reminders of their past made Natasha feel more than she had expected. Whereas she usually felt mainly sadness about that time of her life, she now felt an overwhelming sense of excitement. Hope overtook her at the thought of getting know Katya all over again.

She carefully put aside the box and removed the wrapping paper. What she found was a carefully folded garment. She picked it up and let it drop into its natural shape, and she couldn’t help but gasp. In her hands was the most beautiful slip dress she’d ever seen, smooth expensive fabric with a wonderful dark emerald green colour. There was a slit in the side of dress, one that looked to go up her leg quite high, and Natasha couldn’t be more excited to put it on.

Since it was only morning, Natasha had to use all her willpower to leave this on the table for now and go on with her day, until she had to go and get ready. With every task that she busied herself with, she glanced over at that deep green coloured dress, and she made it until seven that evening until she caved. Natasha felt utterly ridiculous, standing in front of her bed and looking at her laid out outfit. She didn’t do this. She didn’t get ready for things two hours in advance, and she sure as hell didn’t worry about needing to impress someone with her looks.

Yet here she stood, freshly showered, shaved and putting in extra effort to make her hair look soft and silky, and bring out her natural curl that she knew Katya loved. All throughout her hair routine she recalled memories from her teen years. She thought of how Katya used to play with her hair, how she would make tiny braids and how Natasha would let her do absolutely anything that she pleased. The redhead came to the realisation now that she would probably still let the other Russian do as she pleased to her, though maybe in more daring ways now, than back then.

To hint at their shared memories, Natasha made a few small braids in her hair. She knew that Katya would understand their meaning, and that made it all the more fun. The braids also helped keep the hair out of her face as she was putting on her makeup, which she wouldn’t dare to do with that expensive dress on already. She kept her look quite natural for the most part, just the way she liked it, and finished it off with a darker lip tint that she knew she could pull off in the best way. She could say that she made that decision purely because she thought the shade was pretty, but in reality she was hoping to have Katya pay extra attention to them, but she would never admit that, of course.

As she was putting on the dress and jewellery she was overly aware of how far ahead her thoughts were. Rationally thinking, she should hear the brunette out first, see why she’s here and why now. But her thoughts weren’t rational. As much as she loved Clint and Maria and everyone she had in her life, she never meant to end up here. She wanted out, out of this place, out of this job, out of her loneliness. Katya’s arrival had given her so much hope that she believed it may actually all happen. And so she found herself here, feeling like a teenager all over again, mind clouded with daydreams about what she and her childhood lover could potentially become in the future. 

….

After sitting and waiting, and feeling like a fool, for well over an hour, Natasha could finally go outside and meet whatever mystery person was picking her up. She hadn’t needed those two hours to get ready, usually she’s done well under one hour, or way less, she simply got too excited over the whole situation. She’d been right about her assumption that the slit on her right thigh went up quite high, and she was certain that Katya had chosen that on purpose. Natasha didn’t mind that at all, not because she was used to showing off her body, but because Katya was the one person who she’d gladly show all of her to. 

Right as she walked outside, a black SUV showed up at the curb, and before she was even close to the car, a man had stepped out. Dressed in a classic black suit, probably an expensive one, he walked to the other side of the car. As he turned to open the door for Natasha, she could see that he was wearing some sort of communications device in his ear, it made her wonder what kind of security measurements were present, and why they were needed.

The man hadn’t said a word, not when she got in the car, not during the drive, and he didn’t speak either when he opened the door for her to get out. As Natasha stepped out of the car she took in her surroundings, she caught a glimpse of the busy street in the city centre before she was ushered towards the building in front of her. She walked towards the entrance of the seemingly very classy restaurant, and the mystery man opened the door for her. He guided her inside, but as soon as the tables came into view she didn’t need his directions anymore. There, in the middle of an otherwise empty restaurant, sat the person who’d been keeping her up all week.

Natasha took notice of the guards standing in every corner, and she assumed there were more in the rest of the building. However wary she was of all this security, she walked towards the table with a smile. This time it wasn’t some man in a tailored suit showing manners, it was Katya who got up and pulled out the chair on the other side of the table for Natasha. Once she sat down, and the brunette had settled back in the chair opposite of her, she took a moment to observe the woman in front of her before speaking up.

“This is an awful lot of guards for a dinner date, don’t you think?” The redhead still wore that charming smile on her face. She wasn’t afraid, or hostile, and neither was Katya. She was genuinely curious about why all of this was needed, the guards, the empty restaurant, everything.

“Oh so this is a date now?” Katya’s face was adorned with that oh so captivating smirk that, if it had been on anyone else’s face, would’ve annoyed Natasha to no end. 

“Well I don’t usually dress up quite this fancy for any other occasion, do you?”

Katya took that as her cue to, unashamedly, check out the redhead opposing her. She let her eyes wander where she pleased, and she knew that Natasha didn’t mind. In fact, she was doing the exact same to the brunette. It seemed that suits were her thing these days, as she was wearing yet another, no doubt tailor made, dark suit that fit her exactly right. With all this staring back and forth, and tension growing in the air, Katya decided to tease Natasha just a bit more. She took off her blazer and put it over the back of her chair, and to finish it off she rolled up her sleeves to reveal her smooth, ink adorned skin.

“You look beyond gorgeous in that dress, Natalia. Just as I hoped you would.”

“So you’ve been thinking of me then? Picturing me all dressed up, just for you.”

The brunette didn’t admit anything, instead she just smiled at Natasha and handed her one of the menus that had been on the side of the table. 

“I suppose we should get drinks and appetizers first, before getting into the details of this whole situation.” They quietly went over their menus before a sharply dressed woman came up to them, asking for their orders. When all was said and done, and they’d put in their requests for the evening, they received their drinks and were left alone for the time being. 

“So are you going to explain all the security measures?” Natasha was getting impatient now. As fun as the banter was, she was here to get answers. Katya could sense the change in her attitude, and adjusted her own accordingly. 

“You’ll understand the details later on, for now let’s just say there’s plenty of people who’d love to get their hands on me. And not in a pleasant way.” The brunette just couldn’t help but joke around, and Natasha hated that she liked it. She had to fight the blush that tried to make an appearance on her cheeks, because she too, wanted to get her hands on Katya. Though not in a way that called for all these guards present. 

“So what have you done then? To piss off people that badly.”

At that question, Katya seemed to get slightly uncomfortable. “To get to that, we need to go back to the past first. Even before we met, hell even before I was born.”

Now this piqued the redhead’s interest. She hadn’t gone into this with any expectations, but she certainly didn’t think there would be this much history to the story. And the sorrow that seemed to take over Katya had not only made her curious, but already furious at whoever was responsible for whatever bad things had happened to her childhood lover. 

“So, as you already know, I used to live with my uncle.” She started her story. “And I’ve told you before that my mom passed shortly after my birth, and other than my uncle there wasn’t anyone to take care of me.”

So far, this was all information that Natasha knew already, but she understood that the other Russian had to make sure she was aware of the foundation for the story. She didn’t speak, and decided against interrupting Katya at any point. The look on her face made it clear that this was a serious conversation, so all banter was to be stopped for now.

“I obviously don’t know what things looked like from your side of the street, but I can say with absolute certainty that things at Dreykov’s place were worse than they seemed. I think everyone in the town was aware that he was involved in some shady stuff, many suspected some kind of mob activity going on. The truth is actually worse. You see, he didn’t deal drugs, or weapons or any of that stuff, he dealt people. Girls, to be specific.”

Natasha tried to keep her face blank, she didn’t want her expressions to affect the woman opposite of her. She had heard her fair share of theories about what went on in the building across the street, but she hadn’t known about this.

“Some girls, depending on age, were sold to disgusting creeps. However, kids like me, who didn’t have a clue about the world yet and had everything to learn, we were trained. I won’t go into details for now, but we were trained not only to fight, but to kill. We were taught about every single way you can end someone’s life, and if any of the girls failed a part of training, they became the target.”

Katya fell silent after that, and Natasha didn’t bother filling the silence either. This moment was utilised by the staff to bring over their drinks and first course. The redhead muttered a quick thank you, but didn’t take her eyes off of the somber looking brunette, who cleared her throat and pushed herself to keep going.

“You have to understand, that while I may have seemed kind and innocent to you at the time, I have seen and done things you never want to imagine. To many, I’m a monster, and I completely understand if that’s how you feel about me too.” As she said that, Katya seemed about ready to watch the other Russian leave and never come back.

“And I need you to understand something in return.” Natasha looked her in the eye to make sure that every word reached her. “You were forced to do all of that stuff, I don’t know exactly what went down but it sounds like a life or death situation. You did what you had to do to survive, Katya. You were the only person that showed me any kindness at all. I mean, I thought that my foster parents liked me, but they threw me out with the garbage. You were the only person to be honest to me, you said you loved me and you meant it. I will never think that you’re a monster.”

The brunette looked down at her still untouched food, like she was taking all of those words in, unsure of how to respond. Then, she looked up at Natasha with a sadness in her eyes that wasn’t there before.

“They liked you.”

Natasha looked up at her confused. “What?”

“Your foster parents, they liked you. They had every intention of keeping you around.”

“You’re lying, they made me pack my bags and leave without explanation.” 

This made the redhead upset, Katya was implying that she may have had a chance at the happy family she had always craved, and she didn’t take this lightly.

“Natalia, I’m deeply sorry for what I’m about to tell you, and I understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore after this.” Katya took a deep breath before continuing.

“Besides the girls and teachers, there was a load of guards involved with the organisation. I guess someone had noticed me sneaking out at night and a guard followed me when I went to meet you. I don’t know exactly what they saw but it was enough for them to know that we were more than what we were supposed to be. They couldn’t get rid of me like the other girls, not only had I become an important asset, but I’m also related to Dreykov.”

The brunette fell silent for a moment to prepare for what she had to say next. She couldn’t bear to look Natasha in the eye, knowing that she was causing all the hurt that was visible on the redhead’s face. She was fully prepared at this point, to break Natasha’s heart and watch leave.

“With some very convincing threats, and a lot of money, Dreykov got rid of you instead. He made them kick you out, and punished me in ways that made me wish he’d killed me instead. I didn’t know any of this at the time, he actually made me believe that you had been killed for the longest time. I found out a few years ago, I’m so sorry Natalia.”

“Stop calling me that.” Up until now, the name had only slightly annoyed Natasha, but in this emotional state she couldn’t handle any of it. She had to fight the emotions that seemed to get stuck in her throat, and tried her best to keep the tears from escaping. That name was a far too prominent reminder of the past, and it was too much for her to handle right now.

“I don’t want to hate you.” She looked at woman opposite of her. “I loved you, Katya. Hell, I’m half convinced I could fall in love all over again right now, so I do not want to resent you even the slightest bit. I wouldn’t change anything we did back then, even if the outcome hurts me so deeply. Right now though, I need you to work with me here. I’ve changed since we were teenagers, I had to. I needed a fresh start and that came in the form of this new person, Natasha. I need you to respect that.”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry, Natasha.” 

Katya dared to offer her a slight smile, in the hope of bringing some comfort to this situation. Natasha looked her in the eyes, like she was searching for something, anything that could help her navigate the turmoil of emotions she was experiencing. She saw a change behind Natasha’s eyes, one that indicated that she had put her emotions aside for now to keep herself together for the rest of the evening. There was no doubt though, that it would take time for her to let everything sink in, and learn to live with all that knowledge.

“I’m not saying we need to forget everything we used to know about each other, but we need to get to know each other all over again. That is, of course, if you intend on staying around to keep talking.”

Katya seemed almost surprised at how the redhead was dealing with all of this information. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d want me around after this conversation.”

It made Natasha sad, how badly the other Russian seemed to think of herself. Katya’s self worth seemed to have been crushed, and at that moment the redhead decided that it would be her mission to restore it. She needed her to see that she wasn’t a monster, she was just a human who’s been put in the most inhumane situations and did what she had to in order to survive.

“Well, I could always change my mind after you tell me the rest of the story.” She put that signature smirk on her face in an attempt to lighten the mood a bit.

“I’m guessing that you mean how I ended up here?”

“Tell me everything, what happened after I left, how you ended up in this position. It seems that you’re quite well off, with all your security and fancy clothes and everything.”

Katya smiled at her, silently agreeing with her. Firstly though, they finally finished their food and received the main course for the evening. While enjoying their food Katya shared the rest of her story. She told Natasha about the bad, painful things she had to endure after they’d been found out. She told her about how from that moment on, she started truly hating Dreykov, and started plotting against him. 

Katya had thought that he had been responsible for killing her childhood lover, and it filled her with an incredible amount of rage. So as she got older, she started looking for ways to not only put an end to this organisation, but to burn everything associated with it to the ground. Soon after she turned eighteen she had gathered all that she needed, and after a lot of violence all guards had been taken care of and all the girls had sided with her.

She told Natasha about that final encounter with Dreykov, how he had realised that this would be the end for him no matter what. In a last attempt to maintain his power he had told Katya about what had really happened to her secret girlfriend. She had smiled at him as she put her knife in his chest, not only because he was finally gone, but because she now knew that Natasha was alive. 

And so she’d gone on to lead all those girls that she has trained with. She’d downloaded all data from her uncle’s organisation and they had set off on a mission. They had a list of every organisation, government, politician and business associate of Dreykov, and the task was to eliminate them, whatever it takes. Along the way, Katya had made a name for herself and built a network. Most of those targets didn’t want to be convinced to stop what they were doing, and therefore had to be eliminated in a rather permanent manner. Now, even people in high power positions feared her, and nobody dared to mess with her.

That more or less summed up how she got to where she is now. She took money and weapons from organisations that they’d taken down, and thanks to her network of powerful people there were plenty of people investing in her cause. She’s built an army over the years, an army of people who move in the shadows, who take down anyone that stands in their way. 

“So I guess that’s the rest of that story you wanted.” Katya finished off her explanation as dessert was delivered to their table. 

“Almost, you still have to tell me how you found me, and why you showed up just now.”

“Well, finding you was actually quite easy. Your boss, Fury as he likes to call himself.”

“You mean Nick”

“Yes, I mean Nick. I also refuse to call him that ridiculous name. Anyway he got in contact with some shady people about a year ago, they tried to involve him in trafficking business to get women for his club. He wanted nothing to do with it and wanted them gone, so people from my organisation sorted it out for him. Initially I had nothing to do with it, but we do background checks on everyone that gets involved with us.” 

Natasha listened intently, she had her suspicions about her boss getting involved with something, she just hasn’t known what, or who. She’d seen him on the phone and whatever kept him busy seemingly required loads of secrecy. 

“Now this is embarrassing to admit, but here we go. I had an order communicated to everyone involved with what we do. If your name ever came up anywhere, I am to be notified right away.”

She was interrupted by laughter coming from the other side of the table. Natasha thought it was funny, utterly adorable and also more attractive than she was willing to admit, that Katya had gone to such lengths. It warmed her heart that the brunette had never forgotten about finding her. 

“Okay if you’re done laughing, I’d like to continue.”

“Oh I don’t think you need to, it’s easy. You found my name, my new one, and found out that I work and live at the club, and that’s when you decided to start lurking in the shadows to watch me on stage. I hope you enjoyed the shows, by the way.”

Natasha felt more confident now, she felt like she finally knew who was really sitting across the table. It saddened her that Katya had not expected the conversation to get this far. The love she had for the other woman back when they were teens, was the truest love that she’s experienced to date. Even with all the heavy subjects that they touched on tonight, the transition to that light, playful dynamic they were so good at was easy.

“Oh I enjoyed the shows alright, nothing beats that look on your face when I said your name though.”

After dessert had finished, they sat and talked for a little while longer, while enjoying their drinks. Neither woman could deny how much they enjoyed each other’s company. Even with all these new truths, and old lies, coming to light, there was an undeniable familiarity between them. As the night came to an end, they found themselves looking for excuses to stay right where they are. So they found themselves lingering outside on the pavement, delaying the inevitable separation.

“So, will I get any more mysterious invites like this, or can you text me like a normal woman?” 

Natasha couldn’t help but put that signature smirk on her face, just in case Katya needed a little extra convincing. She offered up her phone, and the brunette took it right away to put in her contact information. She immediately called herself with the phone so she could save the redhead’s phone number to hers as well.

“You’ll be taken back to the club with the same car, to ensure you get home safely.”

“Don’t you worry, I know how to defend myself much better than you’d expect.”

“Do I ever get to hear that story?”

Natasha smiled at her. “Sure, on our second date, darling.”

With that, she took a step towards Katya. She leaned towards her and gave the brunette a kiss on the cheek and stepped backwards again, showing that charming smile one more time before turning around and walking towards the car. It took more effort than she was willing to admit, to not turn around and stay for a little while longer. Instead, she got in the car and it took off to bring her back safely, and she immediately missed the presence of her childhood lover.

Meanwhile, Katya was left standing there on the pavement, looking at the car as it took off. This strong, powerful woman who was feared by so many, had been rendered useless because of such a simple gesture. If she had lost all self control, she might have reached out to touch her cheek right where the redhead’s lips had been. However, she was still surrounded by security guards and while she knew they had a massive amount of respect for her, she did need to uphold her image and couldn’t look like a total fool.

That night, both women let their thoughts wander to the other. Natasha was eager to rekindle the flame that had once been ablaze between them, and she could swear the sparks of it were still there like they never left. She was eager for a potential new life, where she didn’t feel this miserable and lonely so often. A life where she had someone to talk to at the end of every day, someone to share her joy with, and her sadness. If she let her mind truly get ahead of her, the future looked awfully domestic and joyful, both things she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Katya on the other hand only dared to let her thoughts go so far. Her upbringing had left her wary of people and filled with trust issues. As much as she’d love to be able to let Natasha right back in her life and go all in on exploring how good they can be together, she simply had to be sensible. But as her phone screen lit up with a goodnight and thank you text from the very person she was thinking of, she couldn’t stop a smile from appearing on her face.

[a-spes]

Dudeee I'm so honored that you reblogged my fic and that you followed me?? I've been loving your work for ages, it's so good 😭😭 Thank you so much 🩷

THERE IS NO WAYY

I should be the one being honored, I love your writing (i am planning on starting the og fic soon) 🫣

Thank you so so much 💛💛

[nataliasquote]

Midas Touch | n romanoff

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: no amount of money will ever save a broken marriage or a broken woman. But maybe the right person can turn everything she touches into gold and this time won’t be cursed to break everything she cares about.

Warnings: affair, cheating wife, forbidden love, small mention of physical abuse (a slap), age gap (N-35, R-27)

Pairings: maid!Natasha x wife!reader

wc: 7.1k 😬

Note: another AU? Why are we even surprised. But this idea fully goes to @katyaromanoffpetrova who does just fuel my need to write every AU possible. If you thought cowgirl Nat was hot… oh just you wait. Also the end got angsty, but you should learn to expect that with me now..

-⧗-

Being up before the sun wasn’t anything Natasha wasn’t used to. Even before she got this job, mornings were her favourite. The way the world looked when it was kissed by the watery sun that rose above the rooftops hours before anyone was awake to see it was one of life’s hidden gems.

And one of the many perks of being a live-in maid to one of the richest men in the America was the views from every window in the staggering mansion. The west side of the house overlooked the bustling city below, which was beautiful at night. But Natasha’s favourite was the east wing that revealed rolling countryside and the perfect place to watch the sunrise over the distant hills.

Her maid duties never started this early, but she didn’t mind being awake. It gave her a sense of peace before the mania of the day began. She wasn’t the only maid in the Barnes residence, but her task was slightly different than everyone else’s. She was Y/n Barnes’ maid and that in itself came with a whole host of other challenges.

Seven am was when her ‘day’ started, for the lady of the house was not an early riser. She usually wouldn’t be seen out of bed until at least nine, but on the days James left for work early, she would always see him off from the front door. And wherever Y/n was, Natasha was never far behind, lurking in the background with her hands clasped in front.

Y/n’s laugh was the first thing Natasha heard of her boss, before she was even seen. Her voice oozed wealth and that laugh practically dripped honey and diamonds as it echoed through the high ceilings of the stairwell. With her arm draped over her husband’s bicep, Y/n lingered on the last step, teasingly trying to tower over James’ muscular frame as he shrugged his suit jacket on.

He muttered something in her ear and Natasha watched as Y/n’s neutral expression suddenly switched to a cunning smile and her fingers fumbled with the small tie holding her feathered robe closed. The front fell open, revealing her nightwear beneath it and it was not hard to see the way James’ eyes fell to his wife’s cleavage for a couple of seconds.

These small moments cemented why they were the nation’s favourite couple, and also why Vogue was so insistent on featuring them on the cover. They were still so lovesick yet utterly perfect in a way that didn’t happen by chance. This level of perfection was almost nauseating.

Y/n stepped down off the bottom stair and looked up at James through her lashes, playing the innocent game despite being anything but.

“Goodbye, my love. Try not to murder anyone today,” she husked in her husband’s ear, draping her arms around his neck with a lazy smile. James’ hand fell to the small of her back and he pulled her into him, kissing her lips hastily.

“No promises. Be good.” Y/n was on her tip toes but hardly felt the coolness of the stone floor on her bare feet. She leaned her face into Bucky’s palm that had risen up to cup her cheek. Soft fingers straightened out the lapels of his pristine suit jacket almost habitually.

“No promises,” she mimicked with a smirk, her eyes sparkling playful up at her husband who was transfixed by her sultry gaze. She was truly a siren, luring him in with a simple glance and a smile. Her power didn’t come from her social status; it came from her. The kind that couldn’t be earned or bought, no matter how much money you had.

With another lingering kiss, James pulled away and reached for the drawer of car keys and selected from the collection of sports cars most could only fantasise about. His dark grey McLaren Senna was today’s pick and he tossed the key in his palm like it wasn’t part of a car costing close to a million dollars. His wealth really was astonishing.

Y/n watched him disappear out of the heavy iron front doors and pulled her robe tighter around her body, concealing the simple navy blue silk slip dress that hung delicately from her shoulders. Her robe matched in colour, of course, and the feathers adorning the trim and cuffs swayed as she wandered into the vast kitchen.

She was the typical rich housewife, but it didn’t look tacky on her. She suited this life. Her wrists, neck and fingers might as well have been crafted to be decked out in priceless jewels, her body to wear only the finest garments. Even just the way she moved oozed grace and elegance subconsciously. A sight for sore eyes.

“Natasha,” she called, knowing the redhead was only a few steps behind her. “I’d like my breakfast on the balcony today please.”

“Yes ma’am,” Natasha replied with a small nod of her head.

“Oh, and don’t bother bringing any of that apricot jam you brought yesterday. I only want strawberry, darling. Only strawberry.” She swept back out of the room in a flash of blue and Natasha scurried down to the kitchen to inform the chef.

Now, if it was anyone else, that pet name probably would have sent them reeling. But Y/n was extremely fond of using those names, so it was basically second nature to Natasha.

The breakfast tray was laden with food and beverages as Natasha brought it out onto the balcony. Y/n was relaxing in a chair, still in her nightwear and robe as she scowled over the newspaper in her hand.

“You know, I do find these world affairs awfully boring.” Y/n didn’t bother looking up from her newspaper as Natasha appeared with the tray. She frowned at the column she was reading before folding it away on the table. “I don’t suppose you read that kind of thing anyway.”

Natasha carefully set the coffee pot down on the table. “I try to keep up with what’s going on in the world. But not as often as I’d like.”

“Do you read the paper?”

“No, Ma’am.”

Y/n hummed. “You can have this one if you want. I don’t care for it and James only complains about the headlines. You’d make much better use of it, honey.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. I really appreciate it.”

“Natasha stop,” Y/n held her hand up, making Natasha freeze mid pour. “I’ve told you to call me Y/n. All this ‘ma’am is making me feel old!” Y/n sighed dramatically, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. “I’m not even thirty yet, don’t make me age faster.”

“I’m sorry, Ma-,” she faltered but caught herself quickly, “Y/n, it’s a force of habit.” It wasn’t so much of a habit than it just felt weird to say. This first name basis insinuated they were friends, not two people on drastically different pay grades.

“Well, luckily for you, habits were made to be broken.” There was a heavy intonation in her words, laced with hidden meaning but Natasha just busied herself with setting up the breakfast platter. Various fruits and pastries were laid out, despite Y/n always just picking at a few berries and a croissant. Natasha hung back near the french doors, admiring the scenery so she didn’t watch her boss as she ate.

Y/n slid her sunglasses back onto her nose and stood up to lean over the balcony, the gentle breeze blowing her open robe softly. “Did that package arrive yet? The one from the lingerie company?”

“Yes, it’s in your dressing room.”

“Perfect,” Y/n hummed, her eyes sparkling behind tinted lenses. “I’m going to go try it all on, I think. When you’ve taken the tray, join me, will you?”

Natasha faltered, trying not to look at the outline of her boss’s figure through the thin material of her robe. But with the sun shining through it, it was proving difficult to keep her eyes off the curve of her hips.

“Me?”

“Yes you, Natasha,” Y/n confirmed, smiling to herself. “Who else would I be talking to?”

“My apologises ma’am, I’ll take this right away.”

Y/n didn’t bother correcting Natasha that time, too busy gazing at the rolling landscape beneath her. She found comfort in nature, the way the breeze brushed over her skin and the sun kissed her cheeks making her melt slightly. It differed vastly from the heavy touch of James’ hands, ones she played through a heavy facade to enjoy.

Y/n’s dressing room was that of dreams, just like the rest of her house. But she barely noticed it anymore. Her gaze settled on a white box on the central dresser, smiling to herself. She enjoyed the luxuries of life, and that included lingerie too. She told everyone it was for James, but really it was for her.

She just wanted to feel good for herself.

But those damn feathered sleeves kept getting in the way, so she shrugged her robe off and let it pool on the floor around her feet. She barely noticed the cooler air on her exposed limbs, too busy pulling off the lid and moving the tissue paper aside to reveal the soft coloured lace and mesh, all pastel colours for spring.

Natasha rushed back upstairs as gracefully as she could, passing through the master bedroom to the dressing room at the end. The door was ajar so she knocked three times, as usual, before pushing it open. Her breathing faltered involuntarily.

Was it normal to have that kind of reaction after seeing her boss in nothing but a mini slip dress? There was so much skin and Natasha took a second to gather her thoughts before she announced her presence, keeping her eyes firmly away from the woman in front of her.

“Natasha I want your opinions on these, come here.” The redhead obeyed and joined her side, eyes widening at the items before her. “What do you think?”

This kind of underwear was probably worth Natasha’s entire salary and she was apprehensive to touch it. Her hands stayed by her sides but she tried look objectively, even if she could barely tell the difference between the sets.

“I like that one the best,” she murmured, pointing slightly to a soft pastel blue set. Y/n smiled and plucked it from the box, holding it in front of her.

“Me too, you’ve got good taste.” Y/n slipped one strap of her nightdress from her shoulder and Natasha immediately turned around, almost squeaking at the lack of warning. “You didn’t have to do that, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Except it was. Because this wasn’t just any woman’s body, it was her mistress’s and there was no way she would ever be able to erase the images burned in her mind.

“I’ll just,” she started, trying to fill the silence by picking up the discarded robe and hanging it on a hook to her right. She caught Y/n fiddling with the bra clasp on her back, the hooks not quite fitting together.

“I hate new clasps,” Y/n exclaimed through gritted teeth, the hooks slipping once again. “Natasha, would you-?”

‘Don’t look don’t look don’t look’ was all that ran through Natasha’s mind as she carefully fastened the bra. She ignored the way her fingertips brushed Y/n’s skin, this wasn’t the first time. She was her maid, for gods sake. But Y/n was usually adamant that she could get dressed by herself, so Natasha rarely found herself around her mistress in just her underwear.

With a muttered thank you, Y/n wandered over to the mirror, adjusting the way her boobs sat in the cups before admiring the set. It was perfect for spring, the baby blue mesh and complimenting white and yellow flowers sitting flush against her tanned skin. The way the material hugged her body rivalled that of a custom made piece and Y/n hummed, content with what she saw in the mirror.

“It looks- beautiful,” Natasha faltered, keeping her composure as best she could. “James will love it.”

Y/n chuckled in the mirror, her hair shaking across her back as she laughed. “You really believe I care what he thinks?”

Natasha’s brows creased. Was that not why Y/n had those underwear sets in the first place? The redhead was empathetic but she didn’t have a significant other, there was no time for that. So her judgement was skewed, and it showed.

“I thought-“

“That’s cute.”

Natasha stuttered. “I’m sorry?”

“You,” Y/n locked eyes with her in the mirror. “You’re cute. James doesn’t care about this kind of stuff, it’s all for me, darling.” She adjusted the strap of her bra and didn’t miss the way Natasha’s eyes followed her fingers. “And now you, I suppose?”

“No, I wasn’t-“

Y/n swivelled round, hands on her hips. “I’m teasing you, darling, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. Frown lines don’t look good on you.” She reached up and softly brushed her thumb between Natasha’s eyebrows, smoothing out the creases that had formed there. The redhead visibly freezed under her touch, the feeling lingering long after her fingers were removed.

“You’re a beautiful girl, Natasha. Who’s the lucky man in your life? Or lady?” Y/n’s eyes shifted, forgetting that she was still in her lingerie set. Natasha breathed out a laugh and darted her gaze to the floor, offering Y/n her robe again.

“I don’t have anyone,” she admitted, missing the look that crossed Y/n’s face. “I spend all my time here, I don’t need anyone.”

“Then I’m honoured to be the lucky lady. And lucky I am.” There was something so alluring about Natasha that Y/n had been hooked on since she laid eyes on her new maid a few months ago. Reserved at first, Natasha was exactly what Y/n needed after years of overbearing and intrusive maids. Natasha was a similar age and felt more like a friend than a maid.

With a confident air about her, Y/n tried on the rest of the lingerie, placing the ones she disliked back in the box with a sigh. Sticking with the blue theme, she slipped on a blue and white sundress, clasped a tennis bracelet around her wrist, slotted her sunglasses into her freshly combed hair and waltzed back onto the balcony. Natasha stayed behind, fumbling with the ribbon around the box before she handed it to the doorman who would organise the return.

The days when James was at work were usually slow and Natasha had some time for herself for a couple of hours whilst Y/n was occupied. Natasha took herself into the city in the late afternoon and ended up in the one store she had never set foot in before.

The lingerie store.

It was a privately owned boutique, of course it was, this neighbourhood didn’t do chain branches, and she quickly walked past the more provocative sets towards the tables at the back. A friendly store worker greeted her but Natasha just kept her head down, politely shaking it when asked if she wanted help.

She was out of her comfort zone, and painfully so, picking up a risky looking set before setting it down a little too quickly. A simple red lace bra caught her eye and she picked it up, only to glance at the price tag and lay it down gently. How could something like that cost so much? Natasha had seen heavier price tags than that of course, she spent her days around Y/n Barnes for god’s sake. But when shopping for herself, everything just seemed too expensive and far too lavish for a plain girl like her.

Natasha was anything but plain, yet she would never see it.

As she looked around the rest of the shop, her mind kept falling back to the red set. It was burned into her mind no matter how many other pieces she saw, and somehow Natasha found herself back at that table again, fingers fumbling over the delicate lace design.

She picked it up, a soft blushing rising to her cheeks at the thought of wearing something so… out there. But the phone in her pocket buzzed and she quickly grabbed it.

Mrs Barnes:

James has set up a date night. I need your help please :)

The red lace set was long forgotten, her mind shifting into work mode in an instant.

Just leaving now. I’ll be there.

When she returned, Natasha headed straight upstairs to find Y/n just leaving the bathroom. Her hair was still dripping and her skin damp, shining in the warm light of her dressing room.

Natasha got to work, drying and styling her hair almost on instinct, having done it so many times. Y/n thoroughly relaxed, adoring the way Natasha felt as she worked through her hair. She softly tugged her roots, but not enough to hurt. Just so it felt like a massage and her eyelids threatened to get heavy.

Date night outfits ranged from lavish to simple, and tonight was a simple night. A little black dress with a deceitful price tag was selected from the closet, a fan favourite of Y/n. She wriggled into the tight material, loving the way it hugged every part of her body as she pulled it up over her chest and slipped the thin straps over her shoulders.

“Where did you go today?” Y/n asked as Natasha zipped up the back of her dress, holding the fabric tight.

“Mostly just window shopping.”

At the mention of shopping, Y/n’s ears pricked up. She wasn’t just making conversation- she was invested. “Did you get anything nice?”

“Not really. Saw a couple of things but-“

“You know you can always take my card if you see something you like,” Y/n insisted, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress to straighten it out. “What store did you visit?”

“It wasn’t anything special.” Y/n shot her an unimpressed look over her shoulder. “I went to the lingerie boutique-“

“No you did not,” Y/n exclaimed, her jaw dropping in excitement as she turned around, clothes long forgotten. “And you didn’t get anything? Oh darling no, we are taking you back there tomorrow and getting you sorted out.”

Natasha moved over to the heels cupboard and selected a classic pair of black patent stilettos. She placed them in front of Y/n for her to slide her feet into, holding onto her hand for support.

“You’ve got that photoshoot tomorrow, so no, we won’t have time.”

Y/n paused, her dangling earring paused in mid air. “And you think they won’t reschedule if I ask them to?” Her brow raised in a ‘try me’ fashion.

“Y/n,” Natasha began to protest. “You don’t need to do that. It’s not like I need anything fancy like you anyway, it’s useless…” she trailed off, a pang in her chest triggering a wave of doubt to shudder down her body. “Vanity Faire won’t be too impressed if you cancel on them again.”

“If they want me, they’re going to have to work around it,” Y/n countered, silencing Natasha as she stalked over, slightly taller than the redhead thanks to her heels. “You are beautiful and you deserve to treat yourself like that. Everyone does, even James and he’s an asshole sometimes. So take this,” she reached into her bra and pulled out her black card, smirking at how Natasha’s brows shot up. “Take this and spoil yourself. I mean it, okay?”

“Thank you ma’am, I’m-“ Y/n almost plucked the card back out of her hand. “Y/n, thank you. You’re too kind to me.”

“Oh stop it, my ego is big enough already.”

The dressing room door flew open to reveal James, narrowed eyes as he stared at the proximity between the two women. Natasha took a couple of steps back but Y/n stayed put, clasping a bracelet around her wrist nonchalantly.

“Y/n, get out here,” he demanded, never one to speak any clearer than he had to. His wife rolled her eyes at Natasha but obeyed, sending her one final look over her shoulder before the door swung shut.

Now they were alone, James grabbed her wrist and shoved her against the wall, towering over her in the only way he knew how to display his power. The power he held over his wife, power that meant he could crush with a single fist if he wanted to.

“James,” Y/n grunted, wincing as his fingers dug into the tender flesh around her wrist. “What is wrong with you?”

“Flirting with the maids now, huh?” He growled, thick brows casting a shadow across his eyes menacingly. “I fire one, you move onto the next, is that how it is?”

“And what if I was?” Y/n baited, not flinching as his body trapped her between the wall and his torso. “Are you threatened? By that cute little thing in there?” She nodded her head in the direction of the dressing room where Natasha was before James gripped her jaw and pulled her face back to his.

“Don’t you dare.” But she did dare. She wasn’t sadistic, but the smile that curled the edge of her lips was downright crazy. But she knew how James was; they fought fire with fire, too stubborn to ever back down.

“Careful, James. Marks, remember?” His grip softened lightly. “Wouldn’t want the paps to spin a story now, would we?”

She saw how he wanted to retaliate, but also knew that she was right. He leaned closer before pulling away, huffing through his nose. “You’re so fucking lucky I love you,” he hissed before he let go of her jaw and allowed her to walk away. His job didn’t help his violent side but James had vowed since day one that he would never harm his wife. Y/n knew it too, and she pushed him to the very edge. Just daring him to.

“Weird way of showing it, but ok,” Y/n mumbled under her breath as she pushed the door closed and took a breath. Natasha averted her eyes, suddenly so busy with a hanger that had been placed backwards. Did she put it there on purpose? That’s not for anyone to know.

She’d seen the strained moments between the husband and wife but often kept her head down, not wanting to fall under James’ wrath. If she was invisible, it was better, but that was easier said than done with Natasha.

Y/n finished clasping her last few pieces of jewellery before accepting her fur shroud from Natasha. The redhead didn’t let on that she had heard every word said next door, but Y/n knew by the way she avoided eye contact that she had.

“You can have the night to yourself, darling,” Y/n winked, checking over her outfit in the mirror beside Natasha. “And you better buy yourself that set.” She gestured to the card in her maid’s pocket, insisting she used it. “I want proof that you did.”

“Thank you, really.”

Y/n blew an air kiss and disappeared to meet James, leaving Natasha once again alone. She felt the weight of the card in her pocket, seeming to grow heavier the more she thought about it. Y/n meant well, but could she really buy something like that with her mistress’ money?

Whilst Natasha debated with herself, Y/n had put on her ‘public’ face. The one that showed she was so madly in love with her husband, clinging onto his bicep as they moved from the car to the restaurant lobby. Paparazzi followed their every move, of course, and James’ bodyguard ushered the couple into the building as fast as he could.

Most celebrities hated the paps with a passion, but James loved them. He loved how much he manipulated them, and they snapped up pictures of the married couple like there was a drought. There was no doubt those pictures would be spattered across gossip sites by tomorrow morning, but that was only more free publicity for him. James Barnes never lost.

However, despite the perfect image they had carefully constructed, more often than not, date nights with James ended alone. He would excuse himself for a phone call just as the food arrived and Y/n could always see him in a private area of the balcony, phone pressed to his ear whilst his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. Y/n picked at her food in silence, washing every mouthful down with a sip of wine. She ignored the stares and whispers and just played her role to perfection, often sending worried glances out to James.

Tonight she had struck up a harmless conversation with one of the waiters, a young man with a far too eager smile. But she tolerated him for company, politely laughing as he tried to crack an admittedly horrible joke. He was surprisingly good company for the thirty minutes her husband had disappeared for. Although it didn’t help with how sad her situation looked. Y/n was nothing if not flirty, it was in her nature. The way she crossed her legs and looked up through her lashes with a sultry stare had every man, and woman, hooked.

Her siren tendencies didn’t end with her husband, and the waiter hovering by her table was drinking up the attention. It was a big deal for him, one of the hottest women giving up her time to talk to him. He was far too young for her, but Y/n humoured his attempts at flirting, twisting her shoulders so he had a good view from where he was standing. There was a fine line between hot and just plain sleazy, but Y/n would never cross it. She was too good at toying with people.

After a while, James came storming back in, his eyes darkening not only from the outcome of his phone call but also after seeing his wife laughing over another man. His judgement was clouded by anger and he grabbed his jacket, not even bothering to take a bite of his now-cold food. Y/n jumped at his sudden movements but smiled sweetly, thanking the waiter who had stiffened.

“Let’s go,” James growled, throwing down a wad of cash as a tip before storming towards the elevator. Y/n took a moment to gather her things before scurrying after him, her red bottomed shoes clicking loudly against the pristine floor.

“Is everything ok?” She dared to ask once the doors had closed. James looked up briefly, eyed the security camera and clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck shifting too.

“I work with imbeciles,” he grunted, his hand undoing the top button of his shirt in one fluid motion. “How was the food?”

“It was good,” Y/n stated, slightly wishing she could have finished her glass of wine.

“Good? I pay all this money and that’s the best you can do?” Bad phone calls always sent him into this mood, but Y/n had been with him long enough to know how to tame the tiger.

She stepped in front of him and ran her hands up the front of his sculpted chest, brushing over the muscle and up towards his shoulders. “It would have been better if you were there,” she spoke lowly, her hand sliding up to brush the stubble on his jaw.

James slid his hands around her waist possessively, pulling her flush against him. Anyone could walk in, the elevator wasn’t private, but they wouldn’t dare say anything to James Barnes. No one who confronted him ever walked away unharmed.

“Yeah? Even though you had your new little boy toy?” Oh he was jealous and Y/n had to tense every muscle in her body so she didn’t laugh. “I saw you.”

“You really think he had anything on you?” She asked sweetly, playing him just the way she knew. “I was just bored, baby, I missed you.”

“Damn right. I hope that fuckboy knows you’re mine, and mine only.”

“I’m yours, James, I’m yours.”

She was James’, so why did her mind drift to Natasha for a fleeting moment as she said it?

~~~

Y/n had dismissed Natasha for the night earlier than normal, letting her have the evening to herself before they went out. And she praised herself now, knowing James’ rage was just bottled up and sooner or later it would come out. She didn’t want her meek little redhead to have to see that.

And she was right. Whatever James had been feeling, he held it in until they were both nearly ready for bed. Y/n slid her rings off and placed them in the dish on her nightstand, each one clinking against the porcelain as she dropped it.

“What did you talk to him about?”

Y/n paused her movements for a second. “You’re still going on about that? I told you, it was just harmless conversation.”

“It didn’t look harmless, the way you were looking at him.”

Y/n was quite literally at the end of her tether with his accusations. “And how was that? How did I look at him?”

James rounded the bed, the single chain resting on his bare chest catching in the lamplight. “Like a slut.” His eye twitched, a sign he was pissed. “How do you think that looks for me? I step away for two seconds and my wife is whoring herself out to anyone she can find.”

“I find it laughable that you think you were away for two seconds,” she countered, stepping to the side to free herself from where he’d boxed her in. “May I remind you that I had finished my meal long before you even stepped foot back inside. He just came to talk to me and I engaged with the conversation, is that so bad?”

“Don’t use that tone with me,” James spat, his eyes following her figure as she paced around the room. “You shouldn’t-“

“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t talk? That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? A quiet little wife who only speaks when she’s spoken to and follows you around like a lost puppy.” James set his jaw, hands clenching by his sides. But Y/n carried on, spurred on by his accusations. “Well that’s not me James, and you know that!”

She paused and ran her fingers through her hair, exasperated. “How do you think it looks on you? You bring your wife out on a date but then can’t switch off from work for two minutes to actually enjoy your time with her! I’m saving your ass here, so be fucking grateful!”

That last sentence pushed him over the edge and James stormed over to her like a bull, backing her into a corner. “Grateful? Why should I be grateful? You’re a slut and-“

“Then treat me better and maybe I wouldn’t have to stray so far!”

James’ hand had connected with her cheek faster than either of them had time to process, his rings cutting into her skin painfully. They both froze. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, the sting of the slap blooming across her cheekbone. James was breathing hard, his hand still raised from the recoil.

An apology would come… wouldn’t it? It had to, he didn’t mean that. Y/n couldn’t move, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. Her stomach lurched, just urging James to say something. Anything.

A whole host of scenarios of how the next few moments might play out raced through Y/n’s mind, but she didn’t foresee her husband walking out without a word, a button up shirt in his hand.

She watched the door click shut before she sank to the floor, legs buckling beneath her. She didn’t want to cry, he wasn’t worth that, yet the tears still fell, dripping down into the carpet that pressed into her knees. It wasn’t from the pain, but from how stupid she felt.

Why was she still pretending? She played off everything he said to her, claiming it didn’t hurt when in reality it cut deep like a knife. Beneath her defences, she just wanted someone to care and not just because she was pretty. She wanted the slow mornings, the affection that wasn’t just for show. The ‘hey how was your day’ that wasn’t just one sided. But Y/n had sacrificed all of that the day she married James, naive enough to think he’d warm up over time.

The house felt eerily quiet and the blanket of night settled across every room. Ignoring how the clock chimed two, Y/n hauled herself up off the floor and trudged down to the kitchen, barely noticing the icy floor on her bare feet.

The freezer must hold ice packs or something similar, anything to stop bruising and swelling that always leads to questions. Y/n didn’t even bother to check if anyone was around before she pulled the door open and rummaged around, falling upon a bag of frozen peas. Not ideal, but it would do.

Except for the hum of appliances, the kitchen was silent and shadows appeared as the dim fridge light cast a small pool around her. No one was here at this hour, so Y/n dropped her guard and slumped her shoulders, leaning against the side of the fridge with exhaustion.

But she wasn’t alone.

A certain redhead had frozen in place, her spoonful of ice cream hovering somewhere between the pint and her mouth. Natasha was a midnight snacker and her feasts were usually undisturbed, but the sound of footsteps had her retreating into a corner.

It was only when she saw that familiar curtain of hair did she emerge, slowly, as if approaching a small animal, to not scare her off.

“Y/n?” Natasha emerged from the shadows, spoon still in her hand. Y/n did a double take but kept her face turned away, forcing her guard up in a split second.

But it was too slow for Natasha. She saw the vulnerability

“What are you doing down here?”

“I came to get a snack,” she replied with as much conviction as a toddler. Green eyes fell to the bag of peas… interesting snack choice.

“Why didn’t you call for me? I would have come myself.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Natasha.”

“Which is exactly my point, why aren’t you asleep-“

Y/n suddenly emerged from the corner and allowed the fridge light to hit her cheek. Natasha recoiled with a gasp, blinking quickly to wake her brain up. Was she hallucinating or was that what she thought it was? Y/n’s eyes were heavy and looked at the floor, too ashamed to watch Natasha’s reaction

“Did he…?”

The lack of response that followed was louder than a thousand words and Natasha felt her blood boil. She would happily be put away for battery if it meant she could get her hands on James, but she had more pressing matters to attend to.

Abandoning her spoon on the metal table with a clatter, Natasha hurried over and prised the bag of vegetables from Y/n’s hand. She wrapped them in a towel and gently pressed them to her cheek, muttering an apology as her mistress winced.

“What happened?”

Y/n chewed her lip, still avoiding eye contact. “Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Natasha nodded. “Ok,” she replied, respecting her wishes. You couldn’t push with Y/n, she had to come to you. “Here, sit up on there.” She helped Y/n hop onto the counter and her body instantly relaxed.

A comfortable silence fell between them both, somehow not affected by Y/n’s reluctance to talk. They never needed words, that’s what Y/n liked about Natasha so much. She was a comforting presence, and Y/n felt so at home around her.

With their faces so close, Y/n felt her chest warming at things she’d never noticed before. There were flecks of brown in Natasha’s clear green eyes, almost mirroring the freckles that danced faintly across her nose. The frown lines she had wiped away earlier were back and Y/n fought the urge to brush them away again.

After ten minutes, Natasha set the ice pack down on the side and helped Y/n down, the stone now digging into her butt uncomfortably. “Just let it rest for a bit before you ice it again. You don’t want to damage the skin.”

Y/n nodded, her face already numb. Their proximity was close but neither made an attempt to move. Natasha couldn’t keep her eyes off how red her cheek looked and Y/n desperately needed something to shut up the voices in her head.

Her eyes dropped down to Natasha’s lips, wanting to cry with how soft they looked. How gentle they’d feel on her skin, a stark contrast to the rough lips she was used to feeling dragging across her collarbones and neck. Natasha was soft and Y/n felt herself craving it.

“No, Y/n no.” Lost in her head, she’d failed to notice Natasha catching on, almost reading her mind. And as much as the redhead would love to reciprocate, it was inappropriate and not just because of her job.

Y/n leaned forwards, eyes glossy. “Please, Natasha-“

“You’re hurting, I won’t-“ Natasha shook her head, taking Y/n’s trembling hand in her own. She could make a pretty educated guess as to what had happened and did not want to be a part of Y/n’s inevitable. She pushed her own feelings down, stuffing them in a box and cramming the lid on tight.

But Y/n never made her life easy. She gripped Natasha’s hand, pulling it into her. “Please?”

“No, we can’t, you know that. And you’re my boss, Y/n-“

“Nat, I- I want you. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

The redhead faltered, watching the way her mistress’s chest heaved. Her head screamed at her to stop; it was so wrong. She couldn’t avoid the way her cheek burned red in the dim light, a stark contrast to the rest of her pale face. Never had she seen this much vulnerability in the woman who was full of wit and confidence.

The strength she was so used to seeing had completely disappeared and Y/n peered at her with tears on her waterline, her facade crumbling away with every second that ticked by.

Those seconds felt like an eternity before Natasha slowly reached her hand up.

But it was too soon.

Y/n flinched away, a tear escaping as she let out a whimper. Natasha quickly retreated her hand and let the woman before her turn back, not wanting to push her in any way.

“You’re safe,” Natasha whispered. Y/n’s eyes searched hers, trying to find any sign of a lie. But she came up empty. With a trembling hand, she reached for Natasha’s palm and allowed it to cup her other cheek. The touch was soft, warm, and everything she wasn’t used to. Even on instinct, Y/n couldn’t help but lean into it, eyelids fluttering closed for a split second before she forced them open.

“I’ve got you.”

Y/n glanced at Natasha’s lips and back up to her eyes. She needed to feel that warmth, she needed to kiss lips that didn’t curse her all day long.

“Natasha…”

The redhead couldn’t stop herself anymore and let Y/n lean forwards, connecting their lips in the most gentle kiss. Y/n tasted the sweet dessert on her lips as they moved against each other slowly, the hand on her cheek moving around to the back of her neck to hold her in place.

“Did you have ice cream?” Y/n mumbled against her lips, goosebumps lighting up her skin at Natasha’s touch.

“Maybe.”

The kiss wasn’t anything frantic or passionate, it couldn’t be. It was so featherlight that their lips barely touched, but the way Natasha’s blood felt like it was on fire was enough to convince her that they did touch. She let Y/n lead, moving their lips in tandem and fiddling with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

Y/n pulled away, a soft smile on her slightly swollen lips setting Natasha’s heart a flutter. The ache in her cheek was hardly noticeable in that moment; she was too fixated on the redhead in front of her.

She leaned in again, chasing that high she wasn’t ready to come down from yet. But Natasha gently pushed her back, shaking her head softly.

“Y/n, we can’t. We shouldn’t be doing this, you know that.” Y/n’s coping mechanisms were unhealthy to say the least, and as much as it pained her, Natasha couldn’t support that. Clarity had hit her like a ton of bricks and guilt settled in the bottom of her stomach, leaving a nasty taste in her mouth.

What were they doing?

Natasha’s heart shattered as she watched Y/n retreat into herself, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth slightly. Her eyes were glossy but the tears refused to spill over. Every muscle in her body was rigid, almost as if she was scared that if she moved, the dam would break and everything would come flooding out. Y/n may be good at a lot of things, but emotional confrontation was not one of those things.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She lingered for a moment, just willing Natasha to speak, to take back her words. Maybe if she closed her eyes, those lips would be on hers again. Their Midas touch, concealing the ache in her heart for a few fleeting moments was all she wanted.

But when Natasha stayed silent, Y/n turned and left, leaving the makeshift ice pack abandoned on the side. She couldn’t stay and let herself fall apart anymore. Her heart had broken twice that night, but why did it hurt so much worse now? Why did Natasha, her maid, have a stronger grip on it than her husband?

—— Part 2

[wandasaura]

https://www.tumblr.com/wandasaura/779697002925752320/honestly-if-you-have-anything-that-includes?source=share

i may have already read this one 🫣

but i would recommend it too. the author is amazing, and so is their series. i usually read only xR fics but this one was a worth exception 💛

the writer is also on AO3 and Tumblr, that is where I discovered their work!!

— 🌿

@katyaromanoffpetrova <— for anyone interested !!

i’ve been reading forgotten ghost since high school !! i’ve recommended it a million times to my best friend but i mentioned ONE instance of angst and now she refuses to touch it with a ten foot pole 😭 i NEED SOMEONE TO TALK TO ABOUT THIS

actually you know what, welcome to book club, we’re going to discuss how taylor swift being laced into chapters was done personally for ME. new chapter literally out today called please please please im sorry but that’s actually so cunt. yail 🤝 forgotten ghost representing mcu swifties

[nataliacansteponme]

@katyaromanoffpetrova actually doing my name the same as on wattpad rn

[nataliasquote]

@katyaromanoffpetrova

I support women's rights, but more importantly their wrongs. hot female villains are peak!!

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

Trojan Horse (crime boss AU: part II)

Natasha gets sent on her most dangerous mission yet: go undercover in the drug operation of the biggest crime empress in the world and take her down. But as they grow closer, she starts to forget about the mission more and more...

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC (Katya Petrova) second pov on Ao3 • Wordcount: 3k • Warnings: mentions of crimes, drugs and sex •A/N: if you didn't get it already, this will be a slowburn :) Also, I added this fic to Ao3 written in the second pov. So if you'd rather read 'you' than Katya, click here Masterlist Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

Life at Katya's estate was much calmer than Natasha expected it to be. A serenity enveloped the beautiful property day and night. Birds chirped in the early morning dew, and the evening sun cast an orange glow over the white buildings in the late afternoon. Without the criminal activities, this could have been a holiday destination, hidden away in the gorgeous forest.

Natasha had started to settle into a routine. For the past two weeks, she and the other women who chose to stay—nine in total—had been in training. Getting stronger, handling and firing weapons, learning the ins and outs of the business, and what would be expected of them as one of Katya's Ghosts—the name fondly given to her employees. 

Most days were the same. Natasha would wake up in her single room in one of the outbuildings, eat breakfast in the adjacent dining room slash kitchen, spend a whole day training, have dinner from the live-in cook, and then spend her free evening reading or writing before going to bed. 

There wasn't much she could do yet. In this stage of the mission, it was mostly important to lay low and gain trust. Go with the flow, do nothing that could raise suspicions. So she followed orders, kept her head down, and trained eagerly.

Only when less eyes were watching her around the clock, could she start to reach out. Build relationships, work her way into places that were restricted to her now. She knew that the best place to find the information she was after was the house. And Katya. Getting closer to her was the main objective. 

So far, Natasha hadn't really had the chance to learn a lot about her. Katya only showed herself occasionally. She liked to go on a stroll around the property after dinner, sauntering around alone, chatting up the people she ran into. Sometimes, she stopped by training to see how her new employees were doing. 

Natasha learned that she was very much a hands-on kind of boss. Katya knew all her employees' names, chatted with them like they were her friends, and cared well for them. The bedrooms were clean, the beds comfortable, the food rich. She shared her wealth, because they were the reason she was still alive.

In many ways, it felt like one big family. There was no hostility among the girls. They laughed and joked like sisters, bonded by trauma and fierce loyalty to the one who saved them from it. Because all of them came from human trafficking transports just like the one Natasha was on. 

Some spoke to each other in their native language, but usually, Natasha caught pieces of broken English and thick accents. 

Somehow, it was beautiful. Their pasts didn't matter here. The color of their skin, the culture and traditions they came from… And not a single man in sight. 

Katya had built the strongest army possible. These women would not hesitate to give their own lives for hers. Because she was the reason they still had one.

The sun burned down brightly on the shooting range. Natasha was grateful for the sail canopy above her head, because her pale, freckled skin wasn't made for this weather. Gunshots popped off around her, the "teacher"—which was actually just one of Katya's oldest, most talented employees—pacing behind the row of rookies to give them instructions.

Natasha barely focused on her shooting. She could shoot a moving target in her sleep, let alone a cardboard one that was barely twenty feet away from her. Child's play. 

Instead, she kept a watchful eye on her surroundings. The shooting range was on the far edge of the property, but it didn't mean there was nothing to see. She tried to identify walking patterns of the guards, a building they were particularly protective of, secret passageways... 

It's how she spotted Katya first.

The woman was dressed in a new outfit. Natasha had never seen her wear the same thing twice. This time, she'd traded the darker colors for something more neutral. Sand colored linen pants and a slouchy white tee. Katya made everything look classy.

Natasha's heart skipped an anxious beat as the brunette came closer, her brown loafers crunching the gravel. It was time to be on her A-game. No slouching. 

She straightened her back, and so did the other women down the line, the gunshots halting without anyone telling them to stop.

"Keep going." Katya smiled. An easy smile that meant to settle their nerves. "Pretend I'm not here."

That was easier said than done. Natasha was hyper aware of her presence as she started to walk behind the line of shooters, studying them silently as the shooting resumed, stopping occasionally before walking off with a quiet sound of approval. 

After pacing the line twice, Katya stopped behind her. Natasha stiffened. Katya's steady presence burned against her back as she fired another bullet, pretending not to notice the woman's sharp eye watching over her shoulder and sliding down her body. 

She expected Katya to study her for a moment before moving on, like she'd done with the others, but even after Natasha emptied her magazine and clicked a new one into place, the brunette didn't budge.

With every passing heartbeat, she expected Katya to see right through her act. Not that she doubted her own undercover acting skills, but Katya's entire life and empire depended on her ability to sniff out lies and deception. If even the smallest thing was off, sirens and alarm bells would go off in her head.

Natasha could not underestimate her. And never assume she was safe.

When she fired the last bullet in her magazine and reached for a new one, Katya's hand suddenly landed on her shoulder, squeezing lightly.

"Leave the gun, walk with me."

Natasha's stomach twisted fearfully, but she nodded as calmly as she could. 

She clicked the safety on and handed the gun back to the teacher, taking one last look at her cardboard target. All the holes were situated around the center. She could hit the red dot in the middle every time if she wanted to. It was actually harder to miss it.

The gunshots faded away as they left the shooting range behind, Katya's steps in stride with Natasha's. They took a turn down an unfamiliar path, hugging the treeline at the back of the property. It was secluded, a perfect place to tell an undercover spy that you knew who she was. Natasha fought to keep her nerves in place.

Katya was unreadable. She stared ahead as she walked, calmly and confidently. Natasha caught whiffs of her perfume. Drifting up her nose and swirling in her chest. Sunscreen, and something very rich—amber. Slightly spicy and musky but not overpowering. Strong. Sensual.

Being next to her was confusing. Natasha expected to feel small, but Katya had a natural gift of making people feel comfortable around her if she wanted to. Instead of hunching forward, Natasha's shoulders pulled back, and she had to actively remind herself not to get lured into the honey trap. Katya was not going to succeed in soothing her into a slip-up.

"You're good with a gun," she spoke eventually, side-eyeing Natasha's expression for a reaction.

Natasha nodded respectfully. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Katya is fine." She smiled. It was a reserved smile. This was her moment of evaluating her rookie, if she could trust Natasha or not. "You've shot a gun before."

Again, Natasha nodded. "I used to hunt with my father." She'd studied the background story of her undercover character Nadia so deeply, that she could make herself believe the lies she told. 

"So you're used to taking lives," Katya concluded, pleased. "Deer?"

"And foxes. Rabbits."

"And men." 

Natasha didn't miss a beat. She looked away, feigning shame to keep up her act. She was Nadia right now. Not Natasha.

Katya smiled, shaking her long hair over her shoulder. Now that she was closer, Natasha concluded that it was, in fact, dark brown. So dark it looked black. 

"I read your file, Nadia. You intrigue me. Revenged the murder of your sister by killing the man who did it. Not many have the guts to do that."

Respect laced through her words, and Natasha cautiously looked back at her. 

It was to be expected that Katya got her hands on "official" background information, received through channels that shouldn't be accessible to her. The tech guys at SHIELD did an amazing job at making Nadia look legit. They chose every detail of her life carefully, trying to appeal to the kind of person Katya was without making it too obvious. 

"He didn't deserve to walk around free after he took her from me," Natasha answered softly, mixing her grief with anger. Katya's eyes lit up curiously.

"Did you enjoy it?"

Natasha hesitated, pretending to think about it. Her type of answer was really important here. It had to keep Katya intrigued. "For a second," she admitted shamefully, avoiding the brunette's bright blue eyes. "Then I realized that his death didn't make the pain any less."

Katya nodded to herself, as if agreeing. "Anger is so powerful. It hides the true emotions that you feel once it's gone." 

For a moment, Natasha thought she saw something flicker in her eyes. Something raw. A memory? But it was gone as soon as it came, replaced with that piercing look that reminded her that she was talking to one of the most dangerous crime bosses in the world.

"Would you do it again? Kill for someone you care about?"

Natasha didn't miss the real question: 'would you kill for me?' 

"Yes."

"Why?"

"There's no better way to show someone you love them." Her character Nadia was a bit twisted, not as pure of soul, wounded by her trauma. But not crazy, and Katya saw that too.

Her expression softened, and something twinged within Natasha's chest. "I think you and I are alike. If we care, we care deeply, and we will stop at nothing to protect and avenge the people we care about." 

The words crashed into Natasha like a reality check. She was playing mind games with a real person, and she was slowly starting to realize that Katya was in no way the cruel, evil woman the world made her out to be. 

Sure, she tortured her enemies, but there was a huge heart in her chest that cared immensely for the few people she did trust. Not only were they loyal to her, she was loyal to them, willing to run through fire. It was admirable.

"Since you are part of us now, we will do the same for you."

Natasha didn't know what to answer, so she just gave her a brief, careful smile. It felt nice, to be wanted. Even though Katya welcomed Nadia, not Natasha.

"Why did you choose to stay?" Katya continued, but it sounded more like genuine curiosity than suspicion now.

"The people of the man I killed are after me, so I can't go home. And I have nowhere else to go." Natasha bit her lip, glancing down at her shoes. More desperation, more ass-kissing. She needed Katya to believe that she saved her. "I guess I just wanted a place where I belong. Where I'm safe."

Katya stopped, and so did Natasha, watching her curiously as a soft smile spread across her lips. "You are. You never have to be afraid again." Katya's hand landed on her arm, squeezing her bicep comfortingly. Warmth bloomed and spread through Natasha's body, starting at the spot where their skin met.

For a second, she was lost, staring into Katya's blue eyes in a trance. This wasn't the sweet honey trap from before, meant to catch out liars. This was genuine care. 

She'd underestimated Katya's character. Knew she had a soft heart for the women she rescued, but didn't realize her care ran this deep. It affected Natasha more than she realized.

She wanted to ask more, but undercover work came with patience, and knowing when to take the victory and walk away. This conversation went so well, she didn't want to risk ruining whatever little trust she'd managed to build with Katya.

Her hand still lay on her arm. They were near the sleeping quarters now. Natasha could almost see her room from here.

"I never said thank you, for rescuing me."

"You don't have to." Katya's hand slipped down her arm, her fingers grazing the inside of her elbow. Natasha's skin tingled. "I'm happy you found a home here. You seem to fit right in."

Standing so close, the sun illuminating Katya's pale skin, Natasha suddenly noticed there were faint, little scars all over her face. Shrapnel? Glass splinters? They were just a tad lighter than the rest of her skin.

"How can I ever repay you?"

"By working hard. And keeping your word." She looked at Natasha pointedly, and the redhead understood what she meant. 

She would kill to protect Katya. Not only to keep her cover alive, but the government couldn't prosecute a dead woman. 

"Katya!" 

They both turned to look at a woman a short distance away, a worried expression on her face as she held up a phone. Something was wrong.

Reality crashed over their bubble like a bucket of ice. Katya straightened up, the softness disappearing from her stance in favor of the businesswoman with an empire to run. Natasha tensed up herself, only realizing how close they were until she took a step back.

Katya looked at her one last time, ready to walk away. "I'm keeping my eye on you." Then she was off, leaving Natasha to celebrate on her own. 

Her boss's words weren't a threat. They were letting her know that her hard work and potential was seen and appreciated, and that she could hope for good things—promotions—in the future if she kept it up.

The things she was doing, the angles she played, were good. She was going down the right path. Hopefully soon, she was allowed into Katya's inner circle and know what crises were going on. 

With a sigh, she returned to her training.

Natasha sat on top of one of the many decorative stone walls of the estate, pretending to read as she watched the back of the main house from the corner of her eye.

Evening had come, the last streaks of orange lacing the dark blue sky. It was getting harder to see the words on the pages of her book, but she wasn't here to read anyway. 

Katya had not shown herself since the crisis earlier on. In fact, she'd called more of her employees into the house and only started letting them go about half an hour ago, when the first ones started to come out the front door. 

They didn't speak a word. Not to each other, and not to the girls who weren't invited to Katya's meeting. Natasha wouldn't get anything out of them. 

So, she relocated to the back of the house, where the pool glistened in the twilight, in the hopes that Katya would come out to make a phone call or speak in private with someone. So far, nothing. 

She told herself she'd sit here until reading became impossible. It would become suspicious if she stayed longer than that. The guards walking their regular rounds around the compound were already eyeing her weirdly.

Movement in the corner of her eye made her head snap up. There, in one of the windows on the top floor—or rather, a door leading out to a balcony—a light flicked on. She saw a part of the ceiling, white, and the edges of a beige curtain. It could be any room, but something told her it was a bedroom.

Nothing happened for a moment. Then, something crashed into the glass.

Or rather—someone. 

Natasha's eyes widened. A woman, half bare, only her bra and a pair of jeans on, was pressed with her back against the glass. 

Natasha knew that dragon tattoo on her back, that impossibly long dark hair that reached her butt. She was one of Katya's Ghosts, seen circling around in her proximity quite often. Ana, Natasha believed her name was.

Firm hands held her in place against the door, another body morphing against hers. 

Katya.

Entranced, Natasha watched the scene unfold. Katya didn't seem to care that the curtains were open. Her lips sucked at Ana's neck, her hands sliding over her bare torso until her fingers hooked into the clasp of her bra.

Natasha tore her eyes away, her pulse racing. She saw what she needed to see.

Katya hooked up with her employees. She was into women. 

This was the type of intel she would have loved to have beforehand. It changed everything. She was trained to be a master of seduction. Closer to Katya than in her bed, she couldn't get.

Euphoric with this new information, she slid off the stone wall. The scene replayed in her head as she walked back to her room and got ready for bed. 

Sleeping with a target was nothing new, but this was on another level. Natasha couldn't ignore that Katya was a very attractive woman. Exactly her type. It wouldn't be torture to eat her out for a few hours. She bet Katya was amazing in bed.

Natasha's stomach clenched, and she scolded herself strictly. If Clint was here, he would be laughing and telling her that she needed to get laid more often. It was sad that she fantasized about having sex with a target like this. Especially when it was a means to an end.

That didn't mean it couldn't be enjoyable, though…

Natasha groaned, splashing her face with ice cold water until the sinful thoughts left her head. 

Yes, she was an undercover agent on a mission, but she was also just a woman with needs. And something in Katya brought out her weakness.

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

Trojan Horse (crime boss AU: part I)

Natasha gets sent on her most dangerous mission yet: go undercover in the drug operation of the biggest crime empress in the world and take her down. But as they grow closer, she starts to forget about the mission more and more...

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC (Katya Petrova) • Wordcount: 2.9k • Warnings: mentions of crimes and drugs •A/N: ahhh I'm so excited for this series!! This part introduces the characters and sets up the story. More will happen in the next part :) Masterlist Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

Muffled cries of agony and the roaring of engines filled the darkness. The open back truck raced through the thick forest, crashing through deep holes on the muddy road that flung Natasha's body around aggressively, throwing her into the women seated beside her, and their bodies into hers. It was a tight fit. They stuffed ten of them in a space for six people, and that was without counting two guards.

Pain slashed through her spine every time it smashed against the wall of the truck, her ass sore from bumping on the hard aluminum floor. But even if Natasha wanted to scream in pain, she couldn't. The cloth they gagged her with effectively stopped any sound from making its way out of her mouth. It also tasted disgusting, like dust and filth. Every time she swallowed, she had to bite back a gag. 

Her wrists were bound in front of her with the same fabric—thin, weak. A rush job. She could easily slip out of it without ever having to dislocate her thumb. It would be all too easy to escape—kick the guards out of the truck and run away. But unlike the terrified women around her, she was right where she wanted to be. So she kept her head down and played the part of the victim as they drove further and further away from civilization.

The two guards in the back spoke rapidly with each other, hands tightly wrapped around the machine guns in their hands. Natasha couldn't make out any words, and couldn't stare at them too long without giving herself away, but it was clear to her that they were tense, on edge, their eyes continuously sweeping the trees like they were expecting a monster to jump out. Another truck, filled with more women of every race and age, followed hers, but its headlights were off. 

They were shadows moving through the darkness, doing everything to be as stealthy as possible. It made sense. Human trafficking was illegal in any country in the world, but this felt like overkill. There wasn't anything but forest for miles, let alone police or military. This was more than caution. They were afraid. And they should be. 

A drop of sweat rolled down Natasha's neck. The truck was stuffy, the night humid and warm. The arm of the woman next to her—tan skinned, dark hair, Latina-looking; the last thing Natasha saw before the flashlights were turned off—pressed against her bicep, clammy. Her sobs mingled with those of the other captives. 

They were terrified, pleading and begging for their lives until they were silenced by a slap across their face, then thrown into the trucks. Far away from home, powerless, alone, taken advantage of by people with cruel intentions and power in the form of violence. 

Natasha briefly squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the traumatic flashbacks from her youth and the panic bubbling in her chest. A truck, a train. Her own begging echoing in her ears.

A panicked yell from one of the guards snapped her back to the present. 

Then, everything happened fast.

The machine guns started firing. Bullet casings flew everywhere. The women around her screamed, toppling over each other as the truck picked up speed. Bright headlights emerged from the darkness of the forest out of nowhere. 

Natasha heard more engines than before. Way more.

She tried to look past the guards, but it was too chaotic to see anything. The headlights blinded her every time they swept across her face. There were lots of them. Several motorcycles. They had less trouble navigating the rough terrain and had the three trucks surrounded quickly.

The guards fired at everything that moved, shouting at each other and the driver in the front. It was loud. The truck moved way too fast. It was going to crash into the one in front, or into a tree. Natasha was stuck in a maze of limbs, her cheek pressed against the Latina's shoulder.

One of the guards went limp and fell off the truck. The other followed quickly after, his pained scream following him out until his body was driven over by the truck behind them. 

A door slammed. A gunshot, closer and precise. For a second, the truck swerved dangerously to the left. Natasha's stomach lurched, her muscles bracing for impact. But the truck corrected its course and started to slow down. 

Until finally, it stopped.

The silence was immense. For a moment, nobody dared to move. The women held their breaths, slowly scrambling upright as they looked around. Dazed, disoriented, confused. Their guards were still up, unsure if their abductors were gone, and if the people who had taken them out were a better or worse evil. 

Some of them cowered back when a woman appeared at the back of the truck. She was dressed in all black, her toned arms accentuated by a simple tank top, the strap of a machine gun crossed over her chest. Her black braid swung when she took off her bike helmet. Not the type of person you wanted to mess with. 

But despite her off-putting looks, the expression on her face was almost kind, sympathetic, as she scanned the scared faces in the truck. "Stay calm," she spoke with a heavy accent. "Don't be afraid. You're safe now. We got you." 

She repeated the message in a few other languages, her tone reassuring and calm as she climbed in the back of the truck. Her movements were slow as she reached to untie the first woman, like approaching a wild animal in its cage. Her lips never stopped muttering assurances. 

Her way of acting was confident. Not rushed or nervous. Calm in the way that only came with experience. Calm that Natasha felt in missions. 

This wasn't the first time this woman was doing this. It hadn't taken the new crew a lot of time to take out the gang of human traffickers either. Their ambush had been efficient and swift. They were practiced. Like a gang of Robin Hoods. 

As soon as the kidnapped woman's hands were free, the gag came out too, and she was guided towards the exit, where another woman—dressed in all black—helped her out of the truck. She stumbled a little on her feet, her face pale and scared, but she was safe. 

One done, nine left to go.

Once the others realized they were truly safe, the cries of relief started. Endless thank yous were thrown around, tears of gratitude pouring down cheeks, as the woman in black freed them one by one. They poured out of the truck like sheep, gathering in a messy circle of lost individuals. 

Natasha pretended to shake as she jumped down to the forest floor, giving the woman who supported her a cautious nod and a weak smile. Her hunched shoulders and restless eyes were interpreted as fear, her arms wrapped around herself to protect her.

"Don't be scared. You're going to be okay. You're safe now," the woman reassured her. Natasha just nodded again, joining the others at the end of the circle, keeping her head down as she tried to make out their faces now that there was some light.

The majority, by far, was colored. Both Asian and South American. One woman was black. The others were very pale white. Eastern European, like she herself was. She recognized the facial features that characterized ex-Soviet countries. But they all had the same thing in common; they were broken.

Bruises littered their faces and arms, chunks of hair were missing from their head, the gags had left burn marks in the corners of their mouth. And then that look in their eyes… dull, hopeless. Even now that they were saved, they had seen and experienced too much to have faith.

"Listen up!" A different woman, with short blonde hair, addressed the group. Everyone must be out of the trucks. Natasha counted seventeen kidnapped girls. "I know you're all scared, and hungry, and very confused. We will explain everything once we get to the compound. It is not safe to stay in these woods. Please, get into our trucks, so we can drive you to a safe place. There's food, showers, beds, medicine if you need it. But we have to go now."

The women hesitated getting into another vehicle, but they literally had nowhere else to go. Natasha moved as one with the group, blended in as she sidestepped the dead bodies of her "kidnappers", and moved towards the bigger army trucks waiting for them.

The trip wasn't long. Half an hour, tops. In these woods, with the speed of the truck, that was around twelve miles. Twelve miles deeper into the forest. There was no way for Natasha to look outside, but she knew she'd only have seen trees. Thousands of them. 

From research, she knew the "compound" was remote. No airports closeby, only one road in and out, no hills or other noticeable elevation. A perfect fortress. Easily defendable. The safety perimeter must go out for miles. Guards posted, cameras set up—infra red, probably—trigger devices, electrified fencing. 

Natasha could only guess the full extent of the safety measures, because nobody ever came close enough to see them and live to tell the tale. The FBI, CIA, SHIELD, Interpol, they barely knew anything about her target's base of operations. Agents were killed if they came looking, exploratory airplanes and spy drones shot down. 

Yet the file on the target itself was detailed and extensive. She wasn't hiding. Her past was out in the open for all to see, and her reputation preceded her. Armed robbery, arson, embezzlement, murder, drug trafficking and distribution, assault, fraud, theft; the full bingo card. 

But the way she operated, the exact numbers of her crew, and the depths of her criminal activities were unknown. It all came down to loyalty and bribery. So many policemen and politicians were on her payroll. Nobody snitched, because that meant death. And no intelligence agency could touch her because she was protected in every way.  

There were lots of blind spots. So many unknown entities that Fury barely approved the mission. If Natasha screwed up, nobody would come to save her. She was completely on her own, in enemy territory. But that's where she worked best. 

When the truck finally came to a stop, Natasha forced her thoughts away and straightened her spine. 

This was it. Time to focus.

She had some idea of what to expect when she got out of the vehicle, but her breath still caught when she set foot on the target's land. 

Calling the sight before her eyes the "compound" was too ungenerous. "Estate" came closer. Influenced by Spanish architecture, the white buildings went on beyond Natasha's field of vision, curving with archways and large windows.

Two one-story outbuildings lined up with the main home to make a large square with a round fountain in the middle. Palm trees framed the whole thing in, making it feel even grander while also more secluded. 

Gravel crunched beneath Natasha's feet as she turned subtly to note as many details as she could. 

Perfectly maintained lawns, a long driveway, a steeled guarded gate, cameras everywhere. Even in the middle of the night, the place was well lit—soft, romantic lighting that suited the characteristics of the buildings, but didn't leave a corner dark. A subtle way of security.

And then there was the main house. It was… Let's just say it was so intimidating that anybody who came here with the intention of screwing the owner over, would abruptly change their mind.

It was two stories high—though it felt much taller—with wide steps leading up to the huge wooden front door, framed by four tall columns. A large balcony protruded in the center, typical orange-red roof tiles gleaming in the moonlight at the very top of the building. From one end to the other, it had to be eighty feet. 

It screamed status, money, even with minimal decorations, but Natasha had an inkling suspicion that the inside was even grander. Anything to intimidate guests. 

Trust didn't exist in the criminal world, so fear was the next best thing. 

All those hours of research, of planning, of prepping her background story, and now she was standing in the belly of the beast.

All the kidnapped women had gathered into a group, lost, their wide eyes flickering around anxiously as they waited for someone to tell them what to do next. Nothing happened for a while. The women dressed in black just stood around them, watching.

Just as Natasha started to wonder what they were waiting for, the front doors of the house swung open. Nobody told them to look that way, but all the women turned, pulled in by some force that tapped into their subconscious.

Natasha held her breath. A figure slowly emerged from the house, stopping at the top of the steps with a final click of her heels.

It was her.

Katariina Petrova. Her target.

Natasha's first instinct was to cower back. Several women around her did, shrinking into themselves.

Even from a distance, Katariina—Katya, as she preferred to be called—radiated authority, power. 

A wide stance, her hands slid into the pockets of her pants, a confident look in her eyes—giving off a kind of calmness that could only come from a woman who knew that nothing and nobody could touch her.

She was remarkably striking. Beautiful in a classic way. Long hair flowed down her back in a tight ponytail. Dark brown, or even black. She was petite but lean. Fit. Despite the humidity, she was dressed in wide leg navy suit pants and a pristine white button up that looked like it was made from the finest silk. 

As she stared at her, Natasha felt a pang of admiration. Katya came from nothing. An orphan who built an empire from scratch, with only her intelligence and resolution to fuel her.

She made a name for herself in a man's world, demanded respect from people who laughed at her when she first started out. Her drug operation was one of—if not the—biggest in the world. Billions and billions of dollars made every year. And her résumé didn't end there. 

Katya dealt in anything that brought her those dollar bills. Weapons, medicine, real estate, art, stolen ancient artifacts. But never humans. Never.

For a reason that no intelligence agency could figure out, Katya hated human trafficking. So much so, that she actually went out of her way to stop it, ambushing every transport in the area and freeing the prisoners. Like tonight. 

It didn't fit her MO as a ruthless crime boss, which was why it bothered Natasha so much. That part of Katya showed her humanity. Humanity everybody expected her not to have. A weak spot.

"First of all, I want to say that I'm sorry for what happened to you."

Natasha was completely taken aback. An apology was the last thing she ever expected to come out of Katya's mouth first thing, spoken with a true Russian accent.

"I'm sorry your trust was abused by men who felt they had a right to take away your integrity, your power." Her calm, confident voice captivated everyone on the driveway below. "It wasn't your fault."

She pulled her shoulders back, and Natasha saw more of the businesswoman she expected to see.

"But I'm offering you a choice. You can go back to the life you had…" Her pause was intentional. These women didn't have a life to go back to. They fell for false promises of money and safety for a reason. "Or you can work for me."

The group around Natasha shifted restlessly, glancing at each other. 

"You are safe here, protected. You'll have a home, a job, money. We take care of each other." 

Natasha glanced at one of Katya's employees. Her back seemed to straighten with pride at her boss's words, a faint smile on her lips as she watched her speak. They were proud to work for her. Katya must treat them right. 

"In exchange, you do some…risky work for me. If that is not something you want, I understand. If you'd like to leave right now, get back into the truck and Stefania will take you to the nearest airport. I'll take care of your flight back home. There is no judgement."

Only a lifetime of fear, knowing if they said so much as a single word about this whole experience, they would end up very dead. Her offer seemed genuine, though.

"If you choose to stay, you are welcomed with open arms. But make no mistake; it'll be a life contact. Leaving is not an option."

Right then, her eyes caught Natasha's. 

Natasha didn't waver, but her heart jumped into her throat. Her beauty fooled people, but Katya was one of the smartest, sharpest women in the world. Her empire wouldn't have survived this long without her watchful eye and general mistrust in people. Natasha felt like she stared straight into her soul and saw all her lies. 

But after lingering for a moment, a spark of curiosity in her eyes, they moved onto the next person.

Natasha exhaled in relief, but she wasn't safe. She would never be safe as long as she worked this mission. She could never let her guard down, not even in her sleep. The tiniest slip up would earn her a bullet to the head.

Everything she said, everything she did, had to be perfect. It had to fit the cover she created for herself perfectly. 

This mission was going to test her like she'd never been tested before. And that scared her, but it was also thrilling. 

Stage one was complete. She got in. Now, it was completely up to her to do the rest. On her own. Starting tomorrow.

~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you thought, and please consider reblogging if you liked it. It really helps me :)

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

What if...they met in college? (1)

Instead of being forced into espionage, Kat and Nat grew up in society like normal kids. But fate always forces them together. As roommates in college this time. One popular girl and one nerdy girl.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 4.7k • Warnings: none • A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @nataliasquote !!! This one is for you. The college AU you are so obsessed with. More parts to follow :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

Katya

The hallways of the campus' dormitories were chaos. Bags, suitcases, instruments, and people, lots of people, blocked Katya's way as she tried to navigate her way to room 415. They bumped into her left and right, and screamed things in her ear as she parkoured over their stuff, yanking on the handle of her suitcase aggressively whenever it got stuck. 

Move-in day was busy, really busy. She meant to avoid rush hour by arriving early, but she'd gotten stuck in traffic. For two hours. Now her roommate had gotten to their room before she did and undoubtedly claimed the good side, probably leaving her with very little space and very possibly decorating the floor with the world's ugliest rug. 

Katya stopped halfway down the hall to catch her breath, dropping her heavy sports bag to the floor to give her poor, aching shoulder a break. With the back of her hand, she pushed her glasses up her nose and brushed some hair from her forehead. It would have been great to have some help. At the end of the hall, a girl had a whole team to help her move in. Parents, sister or friend, boyfriend or brother. But Katya didn't have anyone, so she had to take three roundtrips to the parking lot by herself.

With a sigh, she hoisted the bag up again and watched the room numbers climb the further she walked down the hall. The girls in room 410 had their door open, a song from fifteen years ago blasting from a portable speaker on their desks. They must know each other, because both their sides of the room were in coordinating colors. One of them caught Katya's nosy eye and gave her an awkward smile.

411, 412, 413, 414…

The door to room 415 was open. Katya stopped and took one last, deep breath before stepping into the doorway. 

She was right. Her roommate had already decorated her part of the room. Her eye immediately fell on the large rug between the beds. A fluffy, really soft looking beige one that looked very tempting for a nap. It suited the rest of the surprisingly calm decorations. 

White bed sheets with various neutral colored pillows on top, the subtle black and white prints on the wall, the beige colored plant pots, the fairylights that emitted a soft yellow glow, and the beige curtains that Katya also wasn't mad about. The only thing that held some color were the pictures on the corkboard above her headboard.

Whoever this girl was, she had good taste.

Katya dumped her suitcase by the unoccupied bed and threw her duffel bag on top, careful to avoid the rug with her shoes. The knot in her stomach unraveled a little bit. Maybe her worries about her roommate had been invalid. She had definitely been overthinking too much. It even smelled nice in here, like her roommate had lit a vanilla scented candle.

''Oh, you're here!'' A cheerful voice came from behind Katya. ''I went to pick up two muffins from downstairs because I was hungry and I figured you would be too.'' 

Katya turned around… and was met with the most stunning woman she'd ever seen in her entire life. 

The same height as her, lean build, fair skin—but that wasn't what Katya's gaze was drawn to. A pair of full, pink lips framed a beautiful wide smile that reached all the way up to her even more beautiful, sparkling green eyes. Her eyelashes were so long they nearly touched her perfectly defined eyebrows, and when she blinked, they brushed over her sharp cheekbones. Her nose wasn't small or pointy, and had a little bump that would make most people self-conscious, but fit her face so well that everyone would be jealous of it anyway.

But somehow, like that wasn't already enough to turn heads, this all paled in comparison to the long, slightly curly hair that fell down her shoulders. It was that kind of bright, deep red that non-redheads tried to achieve but never could. The kind that naturally looked darker in the winter and lit up slightly orange in the summer sun. Everchanging and unique, and part of the reason why Katya's heart was hammering in her chest. 

''I'm Natasha.''

Oh. My. God. 

Katya could not form a single thought. Her mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert in the middle of the summer. She could only stare. Stare at her roommate while she tried to fight off the gay panic that reduced her to a completely useless human being. 

This could not be happening. The girl she had to live with for a year could not be this excruciatingly attractive. Freshman year would be her end. 

Awkwardly, she cleared her throat when she saw that Natasha was waiting for a response, an amused eyebrow quirked up on her forehead. God, she was already making a fool of herself. ''Katya Petrova,'' she said shortly, her smile filled with embarrassment as she accepted the blueberry muffin Natasha kindly got her. Get yourself together, or she's gonna get tired of your weirdness quickly.

It wasn't physically possible, but Natasha's perfect eyes lit up even more. ''Russian?''

''Yeah.''

Her smile turned into a mysterious smirk that sent tingles down Katya's spine. ''Then we're gonna get along just fine,'' she said, and Katya couldn't help but feel like there was some sort of double meaning she was missing. Natasha looked at her like she was a meal, and her nerves intensified.

''Uh, thank you for the muffin,'' she blurted out.

''You're welcome,'' Natasha mused, totally cool as she leaned back against her desk. It was unfair, how she turned Katya into a complete mess while she remained confident and calm. But it was so attractive. Katya shivered as Natasha's green eyes slowly looked her up and down. ''I think I picked right. You look like a blueberry muffin girl.''

An awkward chuckle slipped past Katya's lips. She wanted to get away from that piercing gaze desperately, anything to think clearly again, but it wouldn't let her move. ''What does that mean?''

''I don't know.'' With a smirk—and intense eye contact—Natasha brought her ring finger to her lips and sucked the muffin crumbs off. Casually, she repeated the motion with her other fingers, her entire thumb disappearing in her mouth.

Katya felt her eyes widen, more gay panic flushing her veins until her heart thudded loudly in her chest. Images, ones she would never say out loud, filled her mind. Her lower stomach turned into knots while a blush covered her cheeks. She turned away, pretending to be really busy with unpacking. She swore she heard a soft chuckle behind her.

''I hope you don't mind the rug and the curtains. I took the liberty to decorate.''

''That's okay," Katya answered, having trouble remembering what the curtains even looked like. They were the very last thing on her mind as she rummaged aimlessly through her bag, hoping Natasha didn't notice that she wasn't doing anything.

''Is that all your stuff?''

Katya shook her head, risking a glance over her shoulder. She was relieved to see that Natasha's flirty expression had turned into something more puzzled. ''No, the rest is in my car.''

It wasn't hard to put two and two together. Natasha's eyes visibly softened. ''Are you here alone?''

''Yes," Katya answered casually, ignoring the stab in her heart.

It stayed quiet a moment longer than normal, painfully so. These silences were nothing new. She'd started to expect them. On Mother's day, on Father's day, on Christmas, on Thanksgiving, but also moments like these, where she didn't know she would be missing parents until she was in the moment. 

''Does your family live far away?'' Natasha asked carefully.

''Sort of.''

She put her muffin down and uncrossed her arms. ''Let me help you carry the rest up. I can't possibly let you walk back and forth countless times while I take a nap,'' she joked lightheartedly.

''Oh, no, it's okay. Really. You don't have to help me," Katya refused, not in the mood for pity. But Natasha stood up straight and tied her beautiful hair into a perfect messy bun.

''Well, I want to," she said with a tone so definitive that Katya lost all her will to protest. "And I'm not taking no for an answer.'' She looked ready to tackle a big job. Hands on her Lululemon shorts-clad hips, sports shoes on her feet. And those lean arms…they could surely carry a few boxes.

Katya considered it for a moment, and then nodded. It would be nice to have some help. ''Okay then.'' Natasha flashed her a big smile.

Somehow, she faced none of the struggles from before—having to parkour her way through the halls. People seemed to get out of their way for Natasha, driven by some invisible force that must have been her confident aura.

Katya felt entirely unworthy to be walking next to her. They attracted lots of eyes, and the reason they looked at them certainly wasn't her red, sweaty face. Nobody noticed a dull brunette next to a redheaded goddess in gym shorts and a crop top. 

Natasha didn't seem to notice anything. She kept talking to Katya, completely comfortable yapping to someone she'd only met five minutes ago, while Katya tried not to let her gay panic turn into real, uncontrollable panic. She only heard half of what her roommate was saying.

''Hey, Nat!''

They were in the quad, a huge field of grass between the main campus buildings. Today, the main path was lined with stalls full of information and help. If someone couldn't find their dorm or there was another problem, they could visit here. 

A guy, looking older than her, had called Natasha's name from one of the stands, his hand in the air to grab her attention. Katya's first instinct was; football player. He had the build for it.

''Jason!" She smiled, not stopping to talk to him. "How are you?''

He was the fourth guy to greet her like that. Like he knew her. They all looked vastly different—though good-looking—and they all looked older. Some closer to twenty-four than eighteen. It was odd. Where did she know all of them from? Katya was starting to gain suspicions that her roommate may be more well-known around here than she thought.

"So, what's your thing?" Natasha asked suddenly. Katya had been brooding over her roommate's popularity so hard that she didn't realize she'd fallen silent. Or that they were close to the parking lot. 

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"What are you here for?" Natasha clarified, smiling when she still saw the confusion on Katya's face. "Law and dance, that's my thing. Studying law, and I'll be trying out for the dance team."

Katya didn't find this surprising at all. Natasha looked like that kind of person who could do it both. Arts and literature. Body and brains. Someone good at absolutely everything. It also explained her subtle muscles and lean figure. Of course, the gorgeous, popular girl was a dancer. What were the chances she was a cheerleader in high school?

"Of course, you are." Katya paled when she realized the words had escaped her.

Natasha smirked amusedly. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Katya said quickly. Her roommate's need to fluster her all the time was starting to get on her nerves. She fiddled with her car keys, smiling nervously. "I'm not as interesting as you, I'm afraid."

Natasha tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with something flirty. "You interest me."

Heat rose on Katya's cheeks once more. She kept getting caught off guard by Natasha's simple yet effective smooth-talking. Everything she said seemed to have some sort of double meaning. Her body could not keep up with its reactions.

"History is my thing. History and literature. But the literature is just a hobby," she said awkwardly, trying to hide her red cheeks. Her studies and hobbies always sounded boring to begin with, but next to Natasha's they looked even worse. Katya grimaced. "I told you it's boring."

"No, it's not!" Natasha rushed to reassure her. "I've always envied people who could quote Hemmingway off the top of their heads. Are you one of those people?"

"Kind of." Katya smiled shyly when she realized that Natasha was being genuine. 

"That's cool." The redhead smiled. "Everyone has their own interests, don't be embarrassed of yours."

Katya wasn't used to the conversation going this way. It was a breath of fresh air. "Most people think it's lame," she said as she popped the trunk of her terribly plain and old Honda Civic.

Natasha shrugged, picking up the first box she saw. "People will always have opinions, so you are better off just doing what you like."

"Can't disagree." Katya smiled at her. Would things finally be different? Would she finally fit in somewhere? The day started off with lots of frustration but now the future looked very hopeful. Maybe she would finally feel at home somewhere.

It took the both of them three trips to get everything upstairs, after which Katya bought Natasha an iced coffee to thank her. She was drinking that as she scrolled on her phone and absentmindedly talked to Katya while Katya unpacked her stuff. 

Everything she had was in these boxes, her whole life. She had no family to store anything with, so all of it had to fit within the four walls of this room. There was some odd stuff in some of these boxes. But Natasha didn't ask her about anything. Overall, she had been nothing but considerate and an amazing roommate.

"This campus is full of disgusting boys."

Katya jumped. She had her back turned to the door, and with the business in the hallway hadn't heard someone stop in their doorway. It was a small blonde with her hands in her pockets. She looked annoyed, bored and disgusted all at the same time, like a moody teenager. Questionably, Katya looked at Natasha.

The woman sighed and put her phone down. "Kat, meet my little sister, Yelena. Yelena, this is Katya, my roommate."

As if she was only now realizing there was another person in the room, the blonde—Yelena—looked at Katya. Then she let out the loudest gasp. "Oh my god, they put you with a nerd." She laughed.

Katya blushed and looked away. That's not the first time she's heard that. In fact, people all throughout her life had taken the liberty of calling her that. It wasn't her looks per se—she didn't wear braces, outdated clothes, or thick-rimmed glasses. She was a normal kid, in normal clothes, with a delicate, modern-looking pair of glasses balancing on her nose. And, if Katya might say so herself, she wasn't ugly.

No, it was the things she did and liked that put a sticker on her. First of all, her introvertness and her shyness. It had gotten a lot better with age. She didn't stutter or stumble over her words as much anymore, but her shy nature stayed. It made that she never quite fit in with anyone. She didn't have big friend groups or hang around the popular kids. She usually had one good friend who she could sit in peaceful silence with.

Then there were the books, the literature, the movies she watched. Katya realized very young that she was different from the other girls in her class. She preferred the works of writers long gone, liked her movies black and white, and would rather spend her Friday afternoon reading than going to parties. They bullied her for having her lunch break in the library, reading alone, for getting an A on every test. Her interest lay with history, not with the latest Hollywood gossip. 

It shouldn't get to her, but in their cores, everyone wanted to belong, to be liked. She couldn't simply turn off her human instinct.

Natasha's hands curled into fists, and it looked like she was going to explode on her sister, until an older woman stepped into the room. Her hair was so dark brown it nearly looked black, and her face held a stern expression. She was also incredibly gorgeous. "Yelena Belova! That is not how I raised you!"

Yelena cringed. "Sorry, Mama," she muttered.

The woman's scowl disappeared as she turned to Katya, a warm, motherly smile appearing on her face instead. "Hello, my dear. I'm Melina, Natasha's mother. Please excuse my rude daughter. I promise I raised them both better than that."

A warm feeling flushed through Katya's body. "It's okay, ma'am. Natasha helped me carry the rest of my stuff up from my car."

"Good girl." Melina smiled proudly at her daughter. Natasha rolled her eyes, clearly not at ease with her family around a stranger. "If you don't need us anymore, Yelena and I will be leaving."

"Yes, please take her out of here." 

Anger flashed across Yelena's face. "I sacrificed my free day for you, you ungrateful—"

"Girls!" Melina sighed, shaking her head. With pity, she looked at Katya. "I wish you luck with her, my dear—"

"What does that mean?" Natasha exclaimed.

"---and be nice to each other. Natasha, if you need me, I'm just a call away."

"And just a town away." She rolled her green eyes again. "No need for emotional goodbyes."

"Well, I am gonna miss you."

"I'm not," Yelena mumbled under her breath, smiling innocently when her mother glared at her.

Natasha sighed and started to walk them out the door. Like a dog herding sheep. Katya tried not to laugh as Melina and Yelena stumbled over each other into the hallway. "Mhm, goodbye now. Thank you for helping me today." Natasha closed the door in their faces, locking it for good measure. A pleasant silence filled the room. "I'm sorry about her."

"It's alright." Katya shrugged, though her brain was still trying to process what just happened. "I'm used to being called a nerd. It's not an insult."

"She meant it as one. She's a dick." Natasha chewed on her lip, clearly ashamed and embarrassed of her sister's behavior. It meant a lot to Katya that it mattered so much to her.

"It's okay, Natasha, really." 

The redhead smiled carefully. "Melina is probably yelling at her now, though."

Katya laughed. "Their faces as you pushed them out the door..."

"If I hadn't, they would still be standing here, arguing." Natasha returned to her bed, falling back into the same position as before they were rudely interrupted. It already felt so domestic, so comfortable. They could exist together and do their own thing without bothering the other.

"Your sister is completely different from you, isn't she?" Katya asked as she continued her unpacking.

"Yes and no. She's more moody, sassy, rude." Katya chuckled when Natasha rolled her eyes. "But she's driven, hard working, and incredibly loyal to the people she loves. She will fight someone for you... Literally… She loves punching people."

Katya laughed. "She sounds like a good sister to have."

"She'll do." Natasha suddenly perked up, like someone flipped the switch of focus in her brain. Smirking, she studied the boxes on Katya's side of the room. "So, in which one of those is your lingerie?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Orientation had broken Katya's brain. She'd gotten so much information at once that she literally had a headache. A bad one. Add that to a bad night of sleep—only four hours in total because of her new surroundings and anxiety—and she was ready to crash.

She unlocked her door and stumbled into the room, not surprised to see it empty. Natasha's shoes were gone and her bed was made. From what Katya learned yesterday, she seemed to know a lot of people, so she was undoubtedly chatting with every person she ran into. Maybe she wouldn't even return until late. At least Katya had her number.

She took advantage of Natasha's absence to take a long shower. Then she drew the curtains closed and laid down for a nap, her headache already subsiding after chugging two glasses of water. Her eyelids were so heavy, sleep tugged on her brain… 

When her phone rang. 

Katya let out the loudest groan, hurting her head in the process. Who dared to interrupt her nap? Ideally, she would have ignored it, but it could be Natasha or somebody else important. Blindly, she felt around until her fingers wrapped around her phone, her eyes squinting against the bright light to read the name on the screen. 

Tony.

Yep, that made sense. That man always had the worst timing. 

"What?" Katya snapped.

"What a way to greet me. Are you busy?" He gasped dramatically, then lowered his voice. "Wait, are you finally getting laid?"

Katya sighed, the tips of her ears burning. Ever since he stopped seeing her as a kid, he was trying to get her laid. Unsuccessfully. "No."

"Then you got time for me. Did you get settled in?" 

"If you were actually here to help me, you would have known," she said accusingly. "But you're too busy slutting yourself out in Miami."

"Going on holidays is important," Tony said casually. Katya rolled her eyes. He wasn't vacationing, he was partying and drinking. Club music boomed in the background of the call. His classes didn't start for another week. "You know what's also important? If your roommate is hot."

Katya groaned, reaching for the curtain to tug it open. She was so glad this was not a FaceTime call, or he would have seen how red her face was. "I'm not entertaining you with an answer."

"So she is." His stupid grin could be heard in his voice. She wanted to slap him. "What's her name?"

Katya hesitated. Whenever she told him about her crushes, Tony would go and mingle. It wouldn't be the first time he scared one away, but if she didn't tell him now, he would show up next week on her doorstep. Even worse. "Natasha," she answered reluctantly. "You wouldn't like her, she's ginger."

"Wait. A Natasha with red hair? Does she have big tits and a great ass?"

As much as Katya wanted to yell at him for objectifying women, she couldn't help but blush. Of course, her gay ass had not been able to resist taking a look at Natasha's body. Subtly and respectfully, of course. Her thoughts had not been subtle or respectful though, but they were safely inside her head so it was okay. She wasn't that kind of person.

"She looks great, yes."

Exactly at that moment, Natasha freaking Romanoff herself burst through the door, looking incredible as always. Denim shorts, tank top, messy ponytail—Katya's heart skipped a beat. Nobody should look that good after a full day of walking around in the late summer heat. God, she was a mess for her. 

"Who looks great?" Natasha smirked, dropping her bag to the ground. "Some girl at orientation already grabbed your attention?"

"Uh—I…no. There's nobody," Katya stammered, watching wide-eyed as Natasha took the hair tie out her hair and shook all those gorgeous curls loose. Her biceps flexed subtly when she fluffed it up.

"Uhu. Better give me a chance too before you set your sights on someone," Natasha teased.

Katya's breath caught in her throat. Was she dreaming? "Y-You?"

"Yeah. Unless you're not into girls." Natasha smiled smugly when she glanced at Katya's stunned expression. "I thought so. Me too."

If this were a cartoon, Katya's eyeballs would have bulged out of her head. Surely, she was dreaming now. There was no way this was reality. "You're gay?"

Natasha shrugged, grabbing a towel from the cabinet. "I'm a little bit of everything. As long as it's hot and kissable, I'm kissing it." She smirked, and then she closed the bathroom door behind her like she hadn't just turned Katya's whole world upside down.

There was an error in her brain. Her brain had flatlined. Open-mouthed, Katya stared at the door her roommate had disappeared through. She was sweating. Did Natasha seriously just say that she is into girls and she wants a shot with her? Was her headache actually a stroke and was she hallucinating? 

"Shut the fuck up. Your roommate is Natasha Romanoff?" 

Katya jumped. She'd completely forgotten that she was on the phone with Tony, and that he just heard everything. Her heart was racing in her chest. "Is that supposed to mean anything to me?"

He sighed. "You're hopeless. You need to get out more. She has a reputation for crashing college parties since she was 15. She's basically a legend."

It all made sense now. The guys who knew her, her popularity, why she knew her way around campus so well. She cuddled up with college guys while she was still in high school. 

How in the world did Katya, a nerd, get matched up with someone like what? Some funny forces were at play here. Someone up there must be laughing very hard.

"Okay, bye now." She just caught the start of Tony's protests when she cut off the call. She loved him, but she needed a moment to process these developments, and his endless yapping in her ear did not let her think clearly. 

He came into her life at a time where she needed someone the most. Orphaned since birth, Katya grew up in orphanages across the country. The last one she lived in, from age thirteen to literally last week, she met him. He'd protected her on the first day, when some older guys bullied her, and from there, he'd become her big brother. She saw him as that, too; family. Did he know Natasha personally?

Katya panicked when the shower turned off in the other room. Like, had a full-on silent panic attack. Not enough time had passed to process anything or to calm down. She couldn't face Natasha again. Not yet. What if she continued the conversation where it left off?

Quickly, she dived for her laptop and headphones, and put on the first TV show she could find. When Natasha came out of the bathroom, she didn't even spare her a glance. It was possibly the best performance of her life, pretending she was interested in her show and her heart wasn't pounding in her ears.

But Katya looked at her from the corner of her eye whenever she could, trying to figure out what the hell she was doing. Natasha seemed to be getting ready for something. She did her makeup and spent at least ten minutes in front of her closet, trying to figure out what to wear. Katya's eyes widened when she came out of the bathroom in a short, tight party dress later. There were curves and skin everywhere.

Frowning, Katya slid her headphones off. "Are you going somewhere?"

Natasha smiled over her shoulder, slipping her earrings in. Her eyes looked incredibly bright with the dark eyeshadow around it. Mesmerizing. "There's a welcome-back party in the Kappa Delta Psi house." 

"Aren't those for older students?"

Amusement flickered across the redhead's face. "I have a fake ID." She grabbed a pair of heels from under her bed and slipped those on too. They made her toned legs look incredible, miles long. Katya tried not to drool. "You should come."

Katya quickly shook her head, her anxiety surging at the thought of a college party. "Oh, no, thank you. Parties are not really my thing."

Natasha chuckled, a beautiful sound that sent the butterflies in Katya's stomach into a frenzy. "Alright. I'll be back late. Don't wait up." She swung her small purse over her shoulder and set out for the door. Her beautiful hair swung left and right over her exposed back, her pale skin glowing in the light of the setting sun. She looked ethereal. Katya called her name before she decided to.

"Nat?"

With her hand hovering above the doorknob, Natasha looked back. "Yes?"

Katya wanted to tell her that she looked beautiful. That her hair was amazing, that her makeup was flawless, that the dress fit her perfectly. That she was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. But the moment she opened her mouth, she chickened out. "Have fun."

A bright smile curled on her dark red lips. "Thanks."

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

Is this the end? (part I)

Katya is new at SHIELD. When she messes up during her probation, she thinks Fury will send her away. To ease the pain, she distances herself from Nat.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 2.6k • Warnings: angst, mentions of self-harm (not detailed) •A/N: I couldn't fit everything into one post, so there will be a part two in a few day's time :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

2007

The Triskelion slowly emerged in the distance. Tall, massive, impressive. A building fit for a strong organization like SHIELD. A statement to scare off their enemies.

It used to intimidate Katya too, back when she worked for that enemy. All Hydra agents were warned to stay far away from SHIELD HQ, unless they wanted to die. 

But in the past few months, it had amazingly become her safe space. A place where she could breathe for the first time in her life. A place she eagerly returned to.

Not right now, though. 

On this sunny, late afternoon in cold November, Katya dreaded landing the Quinjet on the flight deck and getting out. Her hands shook as she pressed the buttons and flipped the switches, forcing her breathing to stay normal so the SHIELD agent in the co-pilot seat wasn't alerted of her anxiety. 

She failed her mission. She messed up. Badly. She let Fury down. 

And she was still on probation. 

Her boss was very clear; make one mistake and she's out. And Fury always meant what he said. Always.

Katya didn't think she could keep going if she was kicked out of the one place that showed her kindness. If she was forced to say goodbye to the love of her life once more. 

That was the worst of it all; her failure would come back on Natasha. Natasha who was responsible for her. Natasha who promised Fury that Katya was fit for duty. Natasha who had faith in her to become a better person.

Not only had Katya let herself, the safety of the world, and her boss down, she had disappointed the woman she loved. And that stung more than anything.

The Quinjet barely wobbled as it touched the ground—at least she could do one thing right—and Katya helped her co-pilot with the shutdown procedure before lifting her heavy body out of the pilot seat. 

She didn't want to go out there. As long as she was in the jet, she was safe from being fired. Or she could pretend that she was safe, at least. So Katya took her sweet time collecting her things, triple checking that the Quinjet was ready for its next use before reluctantly making her way outside. 

Her anxiety was miles high as she crossed the flight deck. She felt like a pig being led to the slaughter. Every step of her booted feet took more effort than the last. Katya kept her gaze ahead and avoided the scared agents that jumped out of her way, refusing to let them see the fear in her eyes. 

She thought about running. It was her first instinct after she managed to escape her mission earlier today. It shouldn't have taken her fifteen minutes to decide to call in a SHIELD pickup, but it did, and she felt so ashamed about it. 

That part of her life was supposed to be over. Done. But it tempted her like a line of coke tempted a drug addict. 

Being on the run, being alone, it was so much easier. The only responsibilities she had were to herself. The only person she could disappoint was herself. If she messed up on a shady deal, they would be hunting her for a while, but only her. 

Having people who counted on her was harder than she thought it would be. Emotions were harder than she thought they would be. Her default setting was to isolate and be alone. To run when things were bad.

But she wouldn't take the easy way out this time. She refused to. With a deep inhale, Katya stepped inside the building.

To her surprise, nothing happened. She expected some agent to materialize and take her to Fury, or for people to stare and gossip about her failure. She had even imagined Natasha standing there, a disappointed frown on her face. But life inside SHIELD HQ went on as usual. They barely spared her a glance.

Without further hesitation, Katya mixed with the group heading for the elevators. Maybe if she blended in, she could hide and avoid having her soul broken for a little longer. Maybe, if she was fast enough, she could make it to her room and hide from Natasha as long as possible. 

The agents around her should know how hard her heart pounded as they shuffled away from her. How scared she was. It could be the last time they saw her face. It could be her last day in this building. Her last time riding this elevator. 

Katya's throat closed up. The tiny room suddenly felt extremely crowded. Panic pressed on her lungs. When she arrived at her floor, she bumped some shoulders in her rush to get out. As soon as she crashed through her apartment door, she sank to the floor, shaking.

The silence inside her apartment was terrible. The thoughts in her head sounded ten times as loud in the silence. They were overwhelming. The angry voices screamed at her, calling her a failure, a loser, that she would be better off dead.

She wrapped her arms around her knees in search of comfort. Comfort that she didn't deserve from anyone else.

How did she manage to mess up this badly? The mission Fury gave her was so simple, nothing she hadn't done before. Infiltrate a Hydra building—one Katya had marked as one—and steal some information. In and out. 

But somehow, they spotted her. Katya still didn't know how. She knew nobody could have heard her, or seen her. But the alarms went off and all the exits were blocked. She was trapped with no way out.

It took her locking herself into a room and hotwiring one of the alarm boxes on the walls, to lift the blockades and escape. She ran for five miles through the hills and hid before calling a SHIELD jet to pick her up. 

Now they had seen her face, knew she worked for SHIELD, knew their facility was compromised, and knew what information they were after.

It was the worst thing she could have ever done. She might as well have sent them an email. Fury would not be taking this lightly. 

Katya only noticed she was hyperventilating when someone slammed a door shut down the hall that made her jump. 

She felt ridiculous, rocking back and forth like a baby on the floor of her apartment, but it was her apartment, her safe space. She felt in her bones that she started to belong here, that this was where she should be. So it hurt a million times more, knowing she herself was the reason she would lose it all.

Katya sat on the floor for hours, digging her nails into her arms until welts started to form. Only when dusk set in did she pick herself off the floor, exhausted and covered in cold sweat. Nobody had come to check on her. 

She did her coming-home routine on autopilot. Shower, unpack, turn on her phone that she couldn't take with her on the mission, eat something—even though her stomach was in knots and she felt nauseous.

She had four missed texts from Natasha, each more worried than the last.

Nat (3:44 PM): Welcome back. Hope the mission went according to plan :)

Nat (3:46 PM): Are you okay?

Nat (4:18 PM): Can't get out of this meeting, so I can't check in. Can you let me know if you're alright?

Nat (5:52 PM): I hope you fell asleep. Dinner later? My last meeting ends at 7. If I don't hear anything from you, I'm taking it as a yes.

Guilt started to pile up on Katya's shoulders. She couldn't tell Natasha what happened. She couldn't handle letting her down. She couldn't handle breaking her heart. She couldn't handle having her own heart broken again.

Katya left the messages unanswered. Maybe Natasha would take that as a sign to not come and find her later. 

She didn't. When she showed up at 7 PM and knocked on the door, Katya pretended to be asleep. She stayed "asleep" for the rest of the night and never answered the texts in the morning.

This streak of avoidance continued throughout the week. Katya woke up earlier on purpose, so she finished breakfast right when Natasha walked into the cafeteria. She changed her workout schedule from early mornings to the late evenings to avoid Natasha, who trained in the morning. She walked the other way when she saw Natasha in the hallway. She didn't answer texts, or answered very late. 

When Natasha did manage to talk to her long enough to make plans, Katya canceled them last minute with some lame excuse. 

It stung. It hurt every fiber of Katya's being to ignore Natasha like that. The woman didn't deserve it. She should be getting angry with her, but instead Katya triggered her insecurities too.

When she asked if Katya didn't want her around anymore, the blonde swore she heard her heart shatter.

But this was necessary. Even though Fury still hadn't called her in, Katya knew her exit from SHIELD was close. She needed to create a distance between herself and Natasha beforehand, so it would hurt less when that time came.

"Stop avoiding me."

It was lunchtime, Tuesday, and Natasha had finally managed to corner Katya. Literally. She'd grabbed her wrist in passing and forced her into a random supply closet in the hallway. Her body pressed Katya's against the wall, a fire in her green eyes.

"I'm not. I'm busy," Katya answered with a hint of annoyance, impatiently eyeing the door. She had places to be, people to avoid. 

"Don't lie to me," Natasha bit back, vulnerability in the back of her voice. "We're beyond that."

"Nat." Katya tried, avoiding her gaze at any cost. She didn't want to do this.

"What is going on? You better tell me right now," Natasha demanded.

Katya scowled. "Nothing. Let me go."

"Kat—"

"I said, let me go."

Slowly, Natasha stepped back, giving Katya enough space to escape. The brunette eagerly took advantage of that and slipped back into the hallway. They may not be in a good place, but they always respected each other's boundaries.

Natasha was at a complete loss. The only thing she knew was that everything changed after that mission. If she wanted to know why Katya was avoiding her, the key lay at that mission.

The problem was; her clearance wasn't high enough to get any information. She'd tried to get into the system, but it blocked her. The only thing left to try was going to the person who knew it all.

"I need to know what happened. And no confidentiality bullshit." 

Natasha stood in front of Fury's desk, her arms crossed over her chest. She was angry. At Katya, at herself, at the secrets. She was tired of the emotional rollercoaster, of being left in the dark. She wanted answers, now.

Fury lazily gazed up at her, unimpressed and calm. "It's simple. Petrova failed her mission."

A wave of nausea hit Natasha. Deep down, she wasn't surprised to hear this. She suspected something like this. But actually having it confirmed was something else. She, too, knew what it meant if Katya failed.

"Lots of us fail our missions."

"Correct. But we've also never had a Hydra deserter join us before," Fury said casually, reorganizing some folders on his desk.

Something clicked for Natasha. She didn't know the magnitude of the mission, or Katya's failure. But if Fury was this calm about it, and if Katya was still here, a week later, something else must be going on. As always, the Director of SHIELD had ulterior motives.

"You set her up," she realized with disgust. "You set her up to fail."

Fury didn't blink an eye at her accusation, only proving that she was right. "Only when they face death do people show their true faces."

Natasha boiled with anger, clenching her fists to keep herself contained. He really sent the woman she loved into a building full of hostiles just to prove her loyalty. "She could have died!"

"I knew she could get herself out of that situation."

Natasha had never felt as protective over someone as she did right now. "Katya doesn't deserve your mistrust. She's been loyal since she set foot inside this building. She hasn't lied about anything."

"Loyalty runs deep. We shouldn't underestimate her ties to her former employer."

Natasha swallowed back some nasty words. To call the Director of SHIELD an asshole was risky, even for her. Maybe especially for her.

"If your goal was to make her terrified of losing everything good she found, then you succeeded."

Fury sharply glanced up at her with his one good eye. "We are not a charity, Agent Romanoff. Petrova needs to understand that her stay here isn't guaranteed."

Natasha clenched her teeth together. What an outrageous way to prove a point. "If she has to go, I'm going with her. Just so you understand that too."

"Message received," Fury said dryly, returning his gaze to the desk. "Loud and clear."

A mess of emotions raged in her body as Natasha left his office and legged towards Katya's apartment. It was false hope that sent her there. Hope that her small, meaningless conversation with Fury would calm Katya down enough to talk to her. 

She was still furious at him. Furious for sending Katya into a trap, for mistrusting her, and for being the perfect director. She was angry because she couldn't be angry at him. In his position, it was a logical move to test Katya's loyalty.

But Natasha's love for the woman clouded her judgment. Funnily enough. 

"Open up." Her knocks were fast and impatient on Katya's door. "It's me, and I'm not leaving until you hear me out." She was determined this time, willing to kick the door in, now that she knew why Katya acted so strangely.

To her surprise, Katya opened the door. Her body shielded Natasha's wandering eyes from seeing her apartment. She had dark circles under her eyes, pale skin, and a slow way of moving about her. "What is it?"

Natasha pushed past her before Katya could stop her. It had been a while since she had been in the apartment, and what she saw broke her heart. "Why do you have everything packed?" Katya didn't answer. All her personal belongings were in bags. "You don't have to leave. It was a test. And I think you passed it."

Katya snapped her head up, her eyes suddenly wide awake. "How do you— Ты говорил с ним (You went and talked to him)?"

Natasha was taken aback by her sharp tone. "I—"

"мне не нужна няня (I don't need a babysitter)!" The brunette raised her voice. "I made a mistake during probation. He has every right to send me off, test or not!"

"But it's not a fair test if he set you up to fail!"

"That doesn't matter! Failing still isn't an option! Test or not!"

Natasha thought she would be easing Katya's mind. But the woman only saw failure, clouded by fear. Katya was too terrified to lose everything to think rationally. "You're being too hard on yourself," Natasha continued gently. "You're an amazing agent. All your other missions went perfectly."

Katya huffed, raising her arm to scratch her head. "You can save 20 people, but we both know you only remember the one you killed."

Natasha barely heard her words. When Katya lifted her arm, her short sleeve lifted enough to show red welts on her arms in the form of nails. Clearly self-inflicted. Pointedly, Natasha looked at that arm, the spots now carefully covered. "Nothing is worth doing that to yourself."

Katya watched her go with a broken look in her eyes.

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

A deceitful Valentine's

It's Valentine's Day and Natasha is on a mission. Katya won't let the day pass by without seeing her.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC (Katya Petrova) • Wordcount: 1.9k • Warnings: sexual talk (they're horny lesbians) •A/N: not proofread because it's 1AM and i'm tired :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

''No, I'm not helping you so you can fuck each other's brains out in a hotel room. Or whatever it is that you lesbians do.''

''Wow,'' Katya breathed, an amused smile lingering on her lips as she watched her appalled friend shake his head. ''I thought you were a romantic.''

''Me?'' Clint scoffed, shuffling through the papers on his messy desk. He hadn't been able to look at her since she asked her question, a red tint on his cheeks. Obviously, it made him uncomfortable. Katya loved making men uncomfortable. ''Valentine's Day is a ridiculous product of capitalism, created to make us spend more money on things we don't need.''

Katya hummed knowingly, placing her hands on his desk. ''Is that why you bought Laura that perfume she's been obsessed with for months? And, oh, what is this?'' With a smirk, she plucked a Valentine's card from underneath a stack of papers on his desk. 

Swift like a cobra, Clint snatched it from her hand before she could open it. His cheeks burned as he stashed the red and pink paper deep in a desk drawer, slamming it shut loudly. ''You Russian dickheads need to stay out of my business,'' he grumbled. Natasha had been sitting next to him when he ordered that perfume, and while he thought he'd been sneaky, obviously she saw. And then told Katya.

The brunette had to fight off a malicious laugh, in the depths of her element. ''Hm… Natalia will be thrilled to hear about that card.'' She tilted her head, pursing her lips as she pretended to think hard. ''What did it read on the front, again? 'A man like me has a lot to be thankful for'?'' 

''Okay, okay!'' Clint looked like he was about to scream in frustration, slamming the papers in his hands down. He knew she was completely serious in her threats—she would tell Natasha. But Katya could keep a secret if he helped her out. ''Fine, I'll help with your plan.'' He pointed a warning finger at her. ''But if I face serious consequences because I tempered with an agent's mission, it's your responsibility.''

''Absolutely.'' Katya nodded sternly, her eyebrows knitted together. ''I'll tell them I blackmailed you with a Valentine's Day card.''

Spotting the amused glint in her eyes, Clint shook his head with exasperation. One of these days, either Katya or Natasha was going to cause him a mental breakdown because they were just so good at emotional manipulation. ''You need serious help,'' he muttered, grabbing his laptop.

~~~~

The hotel bar wasn't too busy. Most people were still enjoying their late dinner or were spending the evening with their lover, holed up in a bedroom. Natasha had seen enough of them today; couples. It's the one day of the year where people suddenly seem to remember to show affection to their partners. Dinners, movies, gifts—they were all talking about the same things, all day.

She didn't really care about Valentine's Day as a holiday. Sure, she and Katya bought a little something for each other, and tried to do something together if they got the chance to—not including the evening sex, of course—but she did it because it made Katya happy. Natasha was a moreso a believer of showing her appreciation all year 'round. Leaving a sweet note, taking her out for dinner, planning a movie night with snacks, running Katya a bath, giving her a massage. 

But Natasha would be lying if she said that she didn't miss her a little more today. This mission had been dragging on for three weeks. And while she had hoped to be home tonight, she was sitting in a five star hotel's fancy bar, all dressed up, sipping on her Dirty Martini, because Clint had given her new intel. Seducing a man, of all things, when she had a sexy, attractive woman waiting for her at home, must be the universe's type of karma. 

Lazily, she stirred her drink, seeing the bartender move around in her peripheral vision. The stools beside her were empty, the atmosphere calm; soft, classical music playing in the background. It was boring. Clint didn't say what time her target's ''business associate'' would arrive. She could be sitting there for hours. Her mind wasn't as focused as it should be, her thoughts drifting away from her.

It took her a moment too long to realize that somebody was sitting down on her left, gracefully settling down on the high stool with a quiet rustle. There was a flash of red silk, and then a whiff of a deep, sensual perfume. 

Natasha stiffened, her body already knowing what her mind didn't want to believe yet. Slowly, from the corner of her eye, she looked her neighbor up and down, her gaze lingering on their chest and exposed neck. It was the most elegant, exquisite picture she'd ever seen, the red silk dress draping around her figure like liquid. Most of her back was exposed, a decent amount of cleavage showing while the fabric ran all the way to her ankles in loose waves, accentuating the curves Natasha could draw with her eyes closed. 

This was the type of woman men used to go to war for.

Natasha's heart started to race in her chest. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath as she averted her eyes forward again, fighting to keep her cool. Preferably, she'd rip that dress off her body right here, right now, but she had a mission to run. Although she was starting to get an inkling that she might have been misled. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Would you like something to drink, ma'am?" The bartender had materialized in front of them.

Katya smiled charmingly and placed her clutch on the bar. "A Vodka-Martini, please."

''Coming right up.''

Natasha followed the man with her eyes as he walked off to make her order. Next to her, Katya casually touched up her lipstick. Fuck, it was her favorite. "I'm assuming there's no "business associate" I'm meeting tonight?"

"I thought you'd rather have me instead,'' Katya said, tapping at her lip with her ring finger. Her complete lack of fucks given about interrupting her mission and using Clint to lure her here with a lie was both annoying and amusing. Natasha wanted to be more pissed, but in reality, she was really happy to see her.

"You're not wrong, but I am supposed to be on duty around the clock."

"Screw the mission,'' Katya declared, tossing her lipstick and mirror back in her clutch before turning to face her girlfriend. She tilted her head, a smile on her perfectly kissable lips. ''It's Valentine's Day. We're not supposed to be apart."

Part of Natasha's brain wasn't working correctly. Katya's alluring appearance had hypnotized her. She wasn't sure if she wanted to sculpt her beauty into marble for all eternity to see, or worship her body all night until it was covered in drops of sweat. "So you sabotaged my mission because you missed me too much?" She smirked, finally giving in and turning her body in Katya's direction.

The brunette shrugged, something mischievous flashing across her face. "Maybe I'm just incredibly horny."

Caught off guard by her bold statement, Natasha nearly lost her composure. "Are you?" She mused, ignoring the twitch low in her stomach.

Instead of answering, Katya smirked confidently. "Are you?"

"Definitely." She couldn't lie—or joke—about the impact Katya had on her, her teasing demeanor fading into an intense, lustful one as she took the time to take in Katya's appearance once more. "You look fucking incredible," she muttered, noting how Katya shifted on her stool at the desire in her voice.

In that dress, she was an expensive, rich wine from France and Natasha was the alcoholic who hadn't had a drop in three weeks. It took every ounce of self-control to stay seated. Her throat was dry, her hands were itching. 

Reluctantly tearing her gaze away, Natasha reached for her drink and took a big sip. It didn't fix her burning throat, but the sensation brought her back to Earth. "Maybe I should leave more often so you can interrupt my missions looking like this," she joked.

Katya chuckled, slowly circling the rim of her Martini glass with her finger. "Or, you can take me out to dinner sometime, give me a reason to dress up." Her gaze met Natasha's. "Maybe to one of those posh restaurants where I would actually have to wear underwear to."

Natasha's fingers tightened around her glass, her wide eyes flickering to Katya's hips. "Baby…" Katya had prepared for this night to end one way, and with how she was working her up, Natasha knew it was going to be good. She smiled to herself, excitement flooding her veins. "I'm gonna buy Clint such a big bottle of Vodka when I get back."

"I don't think he's gonna be able to look at us for a while. It's pretty obvious what I was planning when I asked him to help us meet up. At night. In a hotel."

"Oh, yeah?" Natasha smirked.

Katya raised an eyebrow. "If I'm still able to walk out of here by myself tomorrow, I'm gonna make you pay for this dress."

Natasha chuckled, reaching out and slowly trailing her fingertips up Katya's arm. They left a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "How about this: I ruin your pretty makeup, your ability to walk, and I pay for the dress?"

"That better be a promise." Katya's lips held a daring smirk, her body still as Natasha's fingers had reached her collarbone. "My mascara is waterproof."

"Do you doubt me?" Natasha asked, her hand ghosting over Katya's throat. A shiver ran through the brunette's body as her pupils dilated. 

"I know you like to talk big."

Natasha pulled her hand away to place it over her heart. "Katariina, you're breaking my heart."

"I didn't know you had one to break," Katya mused.

"It's a little messed up, but it's yours."

Between all the flirting and sexual tension, this half-hearted, soft joke came out of nowhere. Katya had to take a second to switch around. "Where did you learn to sweet-talk like that?''

Natasha shrugged, turning away to take another sip of her drink. ''A place where I met this girl.''

Katya's smile turned knowingly, warmth swirling in her chest. She loved it whenever Natasha spoke about falling in love with her. ''There's always a girl."

''This one was special. She cared. And nobody had ever cared about me." Their eyes met. Natasha's started to sparkle with a amusement. "Oh, and she had the most beautiful blue eyes.''

Katya fought the urge to roll them. ''She sounds nice.''

''She's more than just nice." Placing a hand on her thigh, Natasha leaned in more with every word, until their faces were only inches apart. Her breath fanned over Katya's chin. "She's brave, and kind, and stunning, and so incredibly smart…''

A low hum fell from Katya's lips, her gaze flickering from the redhead's mouth to her eyes. Her heart raced in her chest. ''You're trying to get in my pants.''

''I thought you weren't wearing any.''

Katya smiled amusedly, her thigh tensing up when Natasha's hand started to creep higher. This was exactly how she hoped this night would go. ''So, how did things end with that girl?''

Her breath hitched when she caught the look on Natasha's face. So lustful. If all of that was going to be released tonight, then her girlfriend would for sure make good on her promise. 

Katya's stomach swirled heavy with anticipation as Natasha brought her mouth to her ear. ''With her underneath me, naked, in a hotel room, her pretty dress on the floor, screaming my name as I make her cum for the sixth time in one night.''

And then they have bed-breaking, wall-shaking, earth-shattering sex

A/N: Please consider reblogging if you liked this fic. It really helps me :)

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

The only fool on April Fools'

Natasha thought she came up with the best prank ever. But she forgot exactly who she was trying to prank.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 2.7k • Warnings: suggestive talk Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

A/N: a late birthday post from me :)

2028

Natasha could not stop looking at her hands on the steering wheel. More specifically, she couldn't stop looking at her nails. Every time they caught her eye when she went to change the song on the radio or flick her blinker, the smuggest smirk took over her entire face.

She'd been thinking long and hard about this year's prank. April Fools' Day was a serious occasion for her and Katya, a holiday they planned for for months. It started in 2010 when Natasha had been brave enough to prank her girlfriend at the time, and it developed from there. The only rule they had was that the pranks shouldn't be too humiliating. Just funny. So there was a lot of creative freedom.

This year, she really nailed it. It was hilarious. She was hilarious, and Katya was going to be so pissed. She thought Natasha had just gone to get a haircut, but she'd be getting the worst surprise of her life when she showed her what she'd actually been doing in the city.

Was it cruel? Yes. But Katya replaced all the Oreo cookie filling with toothpaste last year. Natasha's Oreo cookies. And she filled a donut with mayo. So Natasha wanted to let her feel that same pain. Only more subtly.

When she walked into the house, pushing her smirk aside for the sake of the prank, the smell of cake filled her nostrils. It smelled delicious, like chocolate and butter. A special recipe that Katya had been meaning to try. Too bad that Natasha wouldn't be eating a single piece of it, considering there was probably salt in it instead of sugar, but at least she knew where to find her darling wife. 

Prepared to feel incredibly smug and pleased, she strolled into the kitchen. Katya stood with her back turned, softly singing a song as she mixed something with the handheld electronic mixer. The noise drowned out the sound of Natasha's footsteps, so she didn't hear her come in. It only prolonged the excitement. "Smells good in here."

Katya jumped, quickly turning off the mixer. "Oh. Hi, baby!" An adoring smile spread across her lips as she turned around. Natasha almost felt bad for her upcoming prank. Almost. "Let me see your hair." A crease formed between her brows as she studied Natasha's long red locks. "It doesn't look any different," she said carefully, as if she was afraid to offend her new haircut.

Natasha smiled sheepishly, glancing down at her hands. "Yeah, well, you know… I was planning on getting my hair done, but then I passed a nail salon, and, well…" Instead of explaining, she simply brought her hands up, holding her nails out for Katya to see.

When the nail stylist asked her what shape she wanted, Natasha told her to go for the pointest, most stabby looking nail she could do, and she hadn't disappointed. Two inches long, all of them ended in a point that could seriously poke somebody's eye out. The deep red color and the black details turned them into the sexiest murder weapons she'd ever had. The sexiest, most inconvenient weapons ever. They were lowkey homophobic.

She saw the different emotions cross Katya's face one by one. Excitement, at first. Probably because she was happy Natasha spoiled herself, or she liked the nails. Then hesitation. Then realization. Then anger, which manifested with a slight twitch of her brows. And lastly…

Actually, Natasha couldn't decipher the emotion that slid over the anger. It was like Katya mentally paused before she could get really angry, and then decided on a different course. All of it happened within a second. Her brain was just that fast at assessing a situation.

An excited gasp flew from her lips. "They look so good, honey!" Katya exclaimed, carefully taking Natasha's hands in her own to see her nails better. "The design is so simple yet so elegant. It really suits you!"

Natasha inwardly frowned, her smugness plummeting. This was not the reaction she had been hoping for. Not by miles. But she wasn't giving up yet. "What do you think about the length?" She smiled, mirroring Katya's excitement. "I wanted to go even longer, but I've never had nails before so I didn't want to overdo it."

"No, I love it! It suits your hand shape really well." 

To Natasha's even bigger surprise, Katya let her hands go to grab her cheeks instead, pulling her close to press a sweet kiss to her lips. Her blue eyes sparkled joyfully. "I'm so glad you treated yourself to something nice. You deserve it."

Then she turned around and went back to making the icing for her cake. 

Natasha stood there, lost, wondering how this had gone completely the opposite way of how she wanted. Katya was supposed to be upset, asking her what she was thinking, getting long ass nails as a woman in a lesbian relationship. With those weapons on her fingers, she could not use them for her favorite activity whatsoever. 

But instead of getting pissed, Katya got the opposite. She happily sang, swaying her body as she finished mixing her icing. Not a care in the world.

Natasha's prank had dramatically failed.

"Look how good this looks." Katya suddenly turned around, a big scoop of chocolate icing on her pointer finger. Slowly, she brought it to her lips, sucking her finger into her mouth and pulling it out. "Hmm, so good," she moaned.

The very bottom part of Natasha's stomach twisted into knots. She couldn't find her words as she watched Katya lick off the icing in a way that was incredibly sensual. And not by accident.

''Yep, that's done!" She beamed. Katya covered the bowl with some foil and put it in the fridge, happily twirling around to a still frozen Natasha. ''I'm going to lift some weights. Could use a spotter.''

''I—'' Natasha mentally slapped herself, swallowing thickly. ''Sure.''

Katya perked up. ''Okay. Give me a minute to change.''

She wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what those nails meant. It meant her wife was an ass. An ass who didn't want to get laid for a few weeks, apparently. 

Her first instinct was to get pissed. Get pissed at Natasha for partly ruining their sex life. Because while they owned many replacements, Natasha's fingers would always be her favorite, and they were not going up there looking like that. 

But then Katya realized that getting angry was exactly what her wife was after. And what better way to ruin a prank by pretending not to see it? In fact, she was going to throw Natasha's own prank right back at her, make her miserable. Show her that getting these nails would come back to bite her in the ass. Fast.

Nobody messed with her.

Choosing her smallest sports bra and tightest cycling shorts, Katya threw her hair up and returned to Natasha. The woman seemed to be disoriented, or at least deep in thought. She was in the exact spot Katya left her ten minutes earlier, frowning at the countertop. When she did look up, Katya purposely flexed her biceps as she tightened her ponytail, drawing Natasha's gaze directly to her arms.

Her green eyes darkened as they took in Katya's figure. Everything that wasn't bare skin was skin-tight. And while her body didn't look the way it did when she was twenty-four—duh—Natasha still thought it was hot as hell. She wanted to grab it, bend it over the counter—

''Earth to Nat.''

Natasha rapidly blinked, pulling her head out of the clouds. ''Hm?''

Katya had a huge grin on her face that she tried to hide. ''I said; are you coming?''

''Oh, yes.''

She didn't even try to not stare at Katya's ass as the brunette walked in front of her. It was right there, shaking in those spandex shorts. The urge to grab it and press her nails—oh. With a frown, Natasha looked down at her pointy nails. She couldn't grab Katya's butt and press the top of her nails down at the same time.

''Hmm…'' Katya stopped in the doorframe of the garage—their home gym. ''What do you reckon I should do first?''

''Ass.'' Natasha was just in time to bring her gaze upwards when Katya spun around, staring straight into her raised eyebrow. Her cheeks heated up when she realized what her half-horny brain had thrown out. ''I meant squats.''

''Squats it is.'' Katya smiled.

Even the process of setting it all up drove Natasha up the wall. To get the weights on the bar, Katya had to lift them, and because she barely wore a shirt, her back, shoulder, and arm muscles visibly flexed for Natasha to see. Her hands itched, but she suspected Katya was playing a game, and she wasn't going to give in.

They both weren't going to give in. So it was going to be a game of who can hold out the longest.

If things progressed this way, Natasha was one hundred percent sure she was going to lose.

''Okay.'' Katya excessively bent over to put her resistance band down. She'd warmed her muscles—doing some very deep deep squats—and secured her ponytail once more. ''I'm ready.''

Natasha knew it was going to be a mistake when she stepped behind Katya. She knew she was digging her own grave. The brunette pressed her ass into her front and flexed her muscles way more than necessary as she adjusted her grip on the bar resting on her shoulders. Natasha clenched her jaw to keep still and quiet, but the frustration started to build. 

Down Katya went for the first squat, pausing a few seconds before she went up again. Natasha squatted along with her, forcing herself to pay attention to the bar and only the bar. She wondered if she could even close her hands around it in case Katya needed her help. Those damn claws of her were probably in the way. 

She was about to breathe out in relief when Katya didn't pull any stunts on the way up. 

Then she let out the sexiest grunt ever. 

Natasha nearly collapsed through her knees. Dirty memories of times where Katya grunted like that flashed through her head. Half an hour of teasing and she was on the very edge of damning it all to hell. Screw her dignity. She wanted something else to screw, and fast.

Down, Katya went again, audibly breathing out as she went down, and grunting when she straightened up. Down, breathing out. Up, grunting. 

Three times, Natasha kept herself together with great difficulty. On the forth grunt, her sexual frustration snapped.

''Put it down.''

Katya smirked to herself. She expected her wife to keep it together a bit longer, but obviously her plan was working. ''What? Why? I've just started,'' she said innocently, pretending to be extremely confused the same way she'd been pretending to be stupid.

''Put the thing down.''

Carefully, Katya racked the bar, furrowing her brows as she turned to face the fuming redhead. Before she could blink, Natasha had her pinned against one of the squat rack's poles. She felt all that frustration in the way her spine bumped against the metal. ''What's going on?'' Her eyes widened like that of a deer in headlights.

''Stop playing dumb.''

''Playing dumb?''

Natasha took one good look at her and knew she wasn't going to give in. Katya could play the innocent persona as long as she wished to, no matter what threat Natasha would sling at her head. Torture training as a kid clearly worked better for her. The only thing she had to do was grunt a bit and Natasha was a goner.

A groan of frustration filled the garage. This was cruelty in the most ruthless way. Dangling the richest, most tasteful, most expensive wine in front of an alcoholic but not letting them have a taste. Collecting all her self-control, Natasha backed away, stalking off without so much as another word.

Katya snickered proudly, smirking as she turned back to the squat rack. Her plan was going amazingly so far. These weren't the only tricks up her sleeve. 

The torture continued throughout the day. She was doing the dishes? She accidentally got the front of her shirt all wet, and didn't happen to wear a bra. The dinner table needed a good clean? She was bent all over that thing trying to get the spots in the middle. She was vacuuming? She was on her hands and knees on the floor trying to vacuum underneath the couch.

Wherever Natasha went, she also miraculously had to be. The redhead could not escape her. It was torture training. But in a way she'd never been tortured before.

The weapons on her hands had gone from ''the funniest things ever'' to ''I'm going to rip my whole nail off if it means I get to stuff my hand down her pants''. She couldn't take it anymore. Sexual frustration built and built until her stomach was in a permanent knot and her hands were constantly sweaty.

Two hours before Maya was meant to be coming home, Natasha couldn't take it anymore. The groans, grunts, and sighs, and the positions Katya bent her body in finally pushed her over the edge. 

Fine, her wife had won. But taking a hit to her ego and pride was worth it if she could finally get her hands between those legs.

She didn't even bother soaking her nails off. She simply took nail cutters to them and cut them all off as short as possible. Then she filed them down roughly, paying extra attention to the middle three fingers of her left hand, and tossed everything in the trash.

Katya heard her coming from miles away, her rushed footsteps before Natasha cornered her in the laundry room. She saw them immediately; her nails. Or the lack thereof. 

Concerned, she dropped a t-shirt back in the laundry basket, trying to reach for her hands. ''Oh, no, what did you do to your nails?''

But Natasha wasn't taking this innocent bullshit anymore. ''You drive me absolutely nuts. You pest,'' she grumbled. Her voice lacked serious anger as she slowly backed Katya up against the washing machine. Instead, it was laced with reluctant defeat and annoyance. Annoyance at herself.

A sly smile overtook Katya's features as she gripped the edge of the machine for stability. It looked like her wife had been through it. ''Ready to admit you made a mistake then?''

''I hate you.'' 

Katya chuckled softly. ''You dug your own grave, babe. Worst prank ever. Well, for you then. It was so much fun for me.'' She smirked teasingly as she slowly trailed her fingers up Natasha's arm. The game was still going on. Even now. The glare Natasha sent her was weak at most. ''Don't forget who you're messing with.'' 

Natasha rolled her eyes, leaning forward to connect their lips, thinking this was it. But Katya jerked her head back, amusement swimming in her eyes. 

''Nuh-uh. Say it.''

''Say it?'' The redhead grumbled impatiently, seconds away from throwing a fit. 

Katya nodded smugly, her fingers slowly trailing down Natasha's arm. ''I need to hear it. I…''

Natasha clenched her teeth together to swallow back the vile words and accusations that Katya would only laugh at. She didn't think she would be this cruel, giving her dignity another slap in the face by making her vocally admit her mistake like a child. Unfortunately, Natasha didn't have another option. 

She squinted her eyes, placing as much displeasure in her words as she could. ''I made a mistake thinking I could outsmart my mean, cruel wife.''

Happy, Katya grinned, grabbing Natasha's hips to pull them flush against her own. This victory tasted sweeter than her chocolate cake downstairs. She won April Fools'. And she didn't even have to do anything for it. ''You know, it's really not my fault you get so riled up.''

Natasha usually loved to bicker, but she couldn't take it anymore. Her gaze kept drifting down from Katya's eyes to her lips when she talked, and if she wouldn't get her mouth or hands on her body right this instant, she was going to explode. ''Respectfully, shut up. You had your fun, now it's time for mine.''

''Yeah, those nails aren't going up there looking like that.''

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

It's a sign

Kat and Nat come back from shopping to find something very special in the kitchen.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 602 words • Warnings: none • A/N: hope this was something like you imagined @drama2005 :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

Natasha grunted as she lifted two heavy shopping bags from the trunk of the car, the handles digging painfully into her red palms. She was glad to be back from the store. Not only because getting groceries was tiring and overwhelming, but mostly because Katya was an unfocused, hyper mess this time. 

They knew Brooklyn would be picking Maya up for their first date while they were gone, so that's all the woman could think and talk about. When Natasha asked her to get apples, she came back with oranges, and instead of milk, she picked up wine. Wine.

Katya jumped out of the passenger's seat, tying half her hair up in a messy bun as she rounded the car. Natasha watched with an indignant frown as she only took the pack of toilet paper from the trunk and stalked off towards the house, leaving her with the two overflowing bags. 

"Do you plan on helping me carry these?" Natasha called after her, slamming the trunk shut.

"Why?" Katya smirked over her shoulder. "You're doing such a good job, honey."

Natasha rolled her eyes, adjusting her grip on the terrifyingly heavy shopping bags before setting after her wife. She felt—and probably looked—like a modern day slave, her shoulders and arms burning and aching as she treaded up the gravel path, her shoes dragging on the stones. God, were these things filled with bricks? 

"Doesn't it make more sense for you to carry these instead?" She managed to squeeze out, her voice strained with effort.

"Because I'm twice as strong as you are?" Katya grinned, unlocking the front door in the distance. 

"That's an exaggeration, but yes."

Katya's soft chuckle just managed to reach Natasha's ears. "You're being a gentleman by carrying that for me, honey," she teased, her happy eyes squeezing shut with a bright smile. Natasha rolled her own again, but Katya had already disappeared into the house. With a sigh, the redhead continued, slow steps leading her to the porch. 

Before she climbed the steps, she dropped the bags to take a break, flexing her aching hands. That's when she heard the gasp. It came from inside the house. A surprised, shocked gasp that she couldn't fully place as either good or bad.

Before she could act, Katya came running out the front door, her eyes wide. "Come see this! You have to see this!" She snatched Natasha's wrist and dragged her along, up the porch steps, through the hallway, into the kitchen. Natasha's feet could barely keep up. "Look!"

It was immediately clear where Natasha was supposed to look. In the middle of the kitchen island, in a tall glass, stood a single rose. A red rose. The symbolism was incredible.

"A rose! A red rose! Can you believe it? The same flowers you got me for our first date." Katya was buzzing in her spot next to Natasha. "It's history repeating itself. It's a sign."

Natasha smiled fondly at her wife's enthusiasm. It wasn't as if she herself didn't believe in signs, but her superstition didn't go as far as Katya's. "You think everything is a sign."

"Because it is!" Katya held tightly onto her hand. "I knew they were right for each other, but this just confirms they are soulmates."

Years ago, Natasha learned to just go with Katya's view on things like these. Who was she to keep her from believing in them? "It seems both our and her story started with a red rose then."

Katya's face lit up, her twinkling eyes darting from the rose to the redhead's face. "See, now you're getting it."

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

Emoji, questionmark

Katya receives a special text from Natasha, who is very... appreciative of her muscles.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 3.1k • Warnings: suggestive • A/N: thank you so much for your patience as I took a bit of a break from writing! I hope to post more now :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

Katya

"Thanks again, Kat!"

The last of Katya's students left the training room, taking their water bottles and positive energy with them. 

It had been another good day at the women-only gym, and Katya lingered around to clean up, in no rush to get home. She looked up and smiled at the goodbye, giving a small wave to Sandra, who got more confident in her own skin every week. 

"Till next week!"

When the room was empty, Katya did a small lap around to look for any forgotten items or water spills, ending up where she started; at the portable speaker nestled in the corner. Her phone lay next to it, connected to the bluetooth device. 

Pulling the hair tie from her sweaty, oily hair, Katya picked it up. It unlocked to several missed messages from the last two hours—she rarely checked messages between classes, and not at all in classes. That's not the type of vibe she wanted to give off.

There were some notifications from her social media, a text from Laura thanking her for the flowers she sent for her and Clint's wedding anniversary, one from Maya saying she picked up cat food. 

And, of course, a text from her wife.

They were so… pathetically connected that they missed the other instantly when they were apart. 

Natasha had some errands to run in the city? Katya sat on the couch, sulking, anticipating her return. Katya was at work all day? Natasha texted her more often than usual about stuff that didn't matter in the slightest just because she was thinking about her the whole time. 

The only time they were ever fully at ease was when they were together. Maya made fun of them for it, but Katya was quick to point out that the past had given them enough reason to feel that way. Unexpectant time apart, years where they thought the other was dead. It left deep scars in their fragile hearts and separation anxiety in their stomachs.

For obvious reasons, Katya had message previews for Natasha's chats off, in case anyone needed to use her phone. She only saw what her wife texted her when she opened the chat. 

Katya snorted out loud in the empty room. Caught off guard by the embarrassed sound that came out of her own mouth, she quickly looked around, but the only one staring at her was the reflection of herself in the large mirror wall.

Smugness drew a smirk across her mouth, ego puffing out her chest. Natasha was the best hypewoman, even when her reasons were entirely selfish. Nobody loved Katya's physique more than her, and she made sure to let her know every chance she got, both verbal and non-verbal. The non-verbal worshipping was both their favorite. 

Natasha's message consisted of one emoji and one punctuation mark. Not an uncommon thing in itself. A food item with a question mark meant; can you pick this up, or can we have this for dinner? A cat or a ginger-haired girl with a question mark meant; where is the cat, and where is Maya? Any of those things with an exclamation mark meant; don't forget to pick it up. 

It was an important distinction. 

But there were no doubts on what Natasha meant this time. It was very, very clear what she wanted. Shamelessly too.

The flexed arm emoji combined with the question mark meant she was most probably horny, and most definitely mentally drifting.

Katya snickered as she locked and pocketed her phone, collecting the last of her stuff before closing the door of the training room behind her. Usually, she would head straight for the office or to the car, but now she took a detour to the machines. 

Smiling and greeting people, she did a few quick stretches before grabbing a set of weights. With no pre-workout taken, no warmup of any kind, she sat down and started a quick bicep and shoulder routine. 

The goal today wasn't to get a correct workout in. The goal was to pump her muscles so her wife could get her fix. 

She was barely sweaty by the time she stopped, but she had no patience to continue. By now, Natasha would have seen that she'd been left on delivered and would be waiting on what she asked for. The woman was a lot of things, but patient wasn't high up in that list. 

Katya was in and out of the machine room within fifteen minutes, hurrying to find a mirror before her hard work was lost. Luckily, there was another pro to an all-women gym: incredible bathroom lighting. None of that dark, mysterious stuff where you feel like you're in a cave. No, the mirrors on the walls were huge and lined with lights. 

Katya made sure the stalls were empty before propping her phone up on the sink, next to the gym-provided perfumes and deodorant. Quickly, she took her hoodie off and turned with her back to the camera, redoing her ponytail to ensure a maximal view of her shoulders and back.

It felt odd in the beginning to take pics like these, when Natasha first started asking for them. But Katya quickly found out that it wasn't very different from the nudes she sent her. Natasha found her sexy and hot no matter what pose or position she was in, as long as she could see what she wanted to see. Don't overthink it.

She snapped some pictures from different angles, capturing different muscle groups, and tried some new poses she found online from the fitgirls she followed. They didn't turn out amazing, but they would satiate Natasha for now. When footsteps approached the bathroom door, Katya hid the evidence of her activities by snatching her phone off the sink, but Brianna took one look at her and smiled knowingly.

"Documenting your progress?" She asked, picking the sink next to Katya's to wash her hands. Her hair wasn't in box braids this time, instead in a bun on the back of her head. She looked gorgeous whatever way she wore it. 

"They're not for me," Katya answered distractedly, flipping through the photos to pick the best ones, deleting some that were too mediocre. She had to admit, her body looked good.

"Ah." Brianna smirked, taking a quick peek at the phone screen. "What the wife wants, the wife gets."

"Exactly." Katya mirrored her expression and sent the three best pics off to Natasha without any context, then she pocketed her phone and turned to her boss. "I think this means I have to get home ASAP."

"Get some."

Katya snickered. "I think I will."

Natasha

Natasha had been feeling like this all day; clingy, needy. Usually, she was the first one out of bed in the mornings. Today, she wouldn't let Katya get up to go to work. It almost made her late.

These phases of hers came and went. One week, she followed Katya everywhere like a baby duck. The next, she sought out solitude in her office upstairs. 

They made it work no matter what mood she was in, but Natasha couldn't help but dread the moments she was alone when she felt clingy. With Maya at school, and no distractions, she started to think about stupid stuff, like if this was how it felt to be on your period. Emotional and needy. 

She just missed Katya. Like a dog misses its owner. She wanted hugs; a warm, strong body to nestle into. She wanted to be taken care of; for Katya to bring her tea and wrap a blanket around her. 

She would tell her all of this, but Natasha didn't like to bother her too much when she was at work. It was only eight hours, and she was a big girl. 

Nevertheless, after trying everything to put her mind off it, Natasha wound up looking through her camera roll for pictures of her wife. If anyone ever found or hacked her phone, they'd think she was a stalker. She had folders for everything, sorted alphabetically, and filled to the brim with pictures of Katya.

'Kat on holiday'. 'Family'. 'Kat doing stuff'. 'Kat candid pics'. Natasha even had a 'this is my wife'-folder, because she always managed to work Katya into any conversation and would then proudly show her off to anyone. This folder was filled with Katya's prettiest pictures. 

Natasha paused with her thumb hovering above the last folder, hidden at the bottom of the screen. Going into her camera roll, her goal was simply to daydream innocently and to fill that Katya-shaped hole in her day. But if she clicked on that folder, her brain was going to take a very aggressive U-turn onto a road that steered straight off a cliff.

Oh well, it'd give her something to do.

'Kat's muscle pics', was, obviously, filled with pictures of Katya's muscles; ones the brunette sent herself, posed, or quick snaps Natasha took. Most of them were lucky shots. Candid pics turned muscle pics. Katya's strong legs in shorts, her arms in a tank top, her abs in a bikini, her back in a strapless dress. Anything where her incredible muscles were highlighted.

If Maya didn't have the code to her phone, Natasha would have named the folder something more worthy. 'Muscle mommy', maybe. 

But the mediocre name didn't stop Natasha from enjoying the content thoroughly. She stopped at every pic, took her time, zoomed in, shifted in her seat if one really got to her. But they didn't seem to be hitting like they usually did. With a frown, she scrolled back to the most recent picture, finding the date to confirm her thoughts. 

It dated back 3 weeks. 3 weeks! Way too long. 

Upset—and a bit pissed—she backed out of the app and found her chat with Katya. It was truly outrageous that she hadn't been supplied with fresh content for twenty-one whole days. Shocking that she had to ask for it herself. Part of her was too proud to, but the bigger part needed new pics right now. 

Quickly, she found the arm emoji—which wasn't even in her recents anymore, unlike the peach and the scissors—and threw a big, fat question mark behind it. Only one, because she wanted to tell Katya in person how pissed she was. Then she sent the text.

Waiting was torture. Natasha even went on a run to pass the time, music blasting in her eardrums instead of the usual audiobook or podcast. But there were no notifications when she came back home, or showered, or made herself a snack. 

She was ready to throw her phone across the room and roll up into a blanket ball on the couch when the status of her text changed from 'delivered' to 'seen'. Hopeful and excited, Natasha sat up, intently staring at the screen. She wasn't disheartened when Katya went offline again without replying. Her wife never ignored her, so something must be coming soon.

She fumbled for her phone when it chimed, her heart racing as she opened the pictures Katya finally sent her. It wasn't just one. It wasn't two. It was three.

Saliva pooled in her mouth as she studied them. Closely. Every ridge, every rounding, every curve of Katya's upper body. Her phone was only inches away from her face, too scared to miss anything like she didn't have free access to those muscles 24/7.

The pictures were perfect. They were sexy, so sexy. They were feminine yet masculine. Elegant yet tough. The perfect combination. A woman who could rock a dress and be a gentlewoman, and strangle a man to protect her. 

The need to feel the muscles underneath her fingertips slowly grew. It was a weird mix of horniness and loneliness. To have those strong arms around her in a hug, or to desperately hold them as Katya ruined her? 

Liho meowed as she jumped on the couch, sniffing Natasha's phone as if she wanted a piece of Katya too.

"Look at your other mom," Natasha said to her in her baby-voice full of awe, showing the cat the pictures like Liho had any clue what she should be looking at. The animal just meowed again. "I agree, baby. So gorgeous. So sexy. And all mine."

Natasha's thumb drifted towards the call-button—she needed to hear Katya's voice. She couldn't keep staring at the pictures that were sent without any context. She needed more. Anything. But right before she tapped, three dots appeared at the bottom of her screen. 

Kat: Leaving now. See you soon x.

Katya

Katya walked into the house with caution like the spy she once was, dropping her shoes and bag along the way. 

When Natasha didn't reply to the pictures, she knew what time it was. Actually, she knew what time it was when she asked for muscle pictures. Only a needy Natasha would do that. And Katya knew, based on the millions of Instagram Reels her wife had also sent her today, that it wasn't just a regular horny episode either. Natasha was lonely.

The thought made her heart swell. They'd been together for most of their lives, yet Natasha still wanted to spend all of their time together if they could. Only then did she feel completely content and happy. She wasn't very good at verbally telling Katya that, but there were huge signs if you knew where to look. Like her behavior today.

Just in time, Katya stopped herself from chuckling when she stepped into the living room. Natasha sat on the couch like an angry child, scowling pettily and refusing to look away from the TV. She clearly wasn't happy with Katya's lack of attention today and wanted to teach her a lesson for it. Silent treatment was therein her lesson of choice.

"Привет, милая (Hello, honey)," Katya said slowly, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorpost. The Russian was on purpose and came as a complete surprise to Natasha, who stiffened slightly. The words always hit just a little deeper if Katya switched back to their first language. "Почему ты дуешься (Why are you pouting)?"

Natasha looked conflicted, not sure what emotion to act on. One, anger; two, horniness; three, clinginess. She thought long and hard about her answer, not moving an inch as she did, pretending her wife was air. 

"I've been neglected," she accused Katya coldly. A good answer. It covered all three of her emotions.

Katya pushed away from the doorpost, slowly approaching her frozen wife. Like one would a scared cat. "I'm sorry, baby. That was never my intention." If Natasha listened closely—and Katya knew she did—then she could hear the amusement in her voice. That's probably the reason for the side-eye Natasha gave her when she sat down next to her. "How can I make it up to you?"

It didn't appear as if Natasha was going to answer. She stayed silent for so long, her steel expression directed at the TV, that Katya nearly gave up. A minute longer and she'd have stood up to prepare some sweet gesture. But then Natasha slowly leaned into her. 

It was barely noticeable if Katya wasn't hyper aware of her to begin with. But slowly, very slowly, her wife's body tilted her way. When Katya opened her arms, it went faster, until Natasha was fully resting against her chest. Eagerly, Katya wrapped her arms around her body. Natasha didn't fully relax; silent protest.

"For now," she said warningly, before Katya got too happy.

The brunette frowned. She was still happy, don't get her wrong, but hugs weren't exactly what she expected when she drove home. "Does—"

"Sex later."

Of course, Natasha read her mind. 

Katya hummed in acknowledgement, like it didn't make her incredibly excited. Natasha would push her off the couch if she set one foot wrong. Instead, she rubbed her shoulder carefully while Natasha kept pretending to watch the TV. If the redhead wanted to be stubborn a little longer, then Katya was going to let her. She could contain her own neediness for a long, long time.

Natasha's phone was safely tucked between her thighs, anxiously. How big were the chances that Katya's pictures would pop up if she unlocked it? She was too scared for her hand to find out. 

"Did you like them?" She asked, failing to hide the smugness in her voice. The thin ice she tread on cracked beneath her feet.

"They'll do," Natasha answered, uninterested.

Katya nearly snorted, but she settled for a half smirk Natasha couldn't even see. "You know, there's nothing wrong with admitting that you like them.''

"I said, they'll do," the redhead corrected sharply.

"Okay."

Natasha's scowl deepened when she heard how sarcastic that answer was. Anyone walking in would think the TV personally offended her. "Stop being so cocky."

"You don't think I have a reason to be?"

"I didn't say that."

"You don't like it?"

"You're putting words in my mouth."

"I wish I was putting something else in—" Natasha's death glare cut her off. It was brief, but powerful, and the woman settled right back into Katya's chest afterwards.

"You have the right to be cocky, but you still irritate me," Natasha mumbled through gritted teeth. 

Katya dared to smile after the fear left her system. "Why?"

"Because you know damn well what it does to me, and it's unfair to have so much power over me."

It took all her willpower not to chuckle. Katya magically managed to keep her body still too. But it was going to be her words that would trigger Natasha. "Aw, is this your power struggle-struggle again?"

It was finally too much. With an angry huff, the woman pushed away from her, a dangerous fire flickering behind her eyes that matched the fiery color of her hair. She was absolutely stunning. "I would be very careful if I were you. What you say or do next could determine your near future and if you'll still have one."

This would be terrifying for anybody else in Katya's position. Even Clint would think this was a good time to shut up, but it was Katya's goal to rile her up as much as she could. Because the only way Natasha was going to let it out was by destroying her later. In a good way. Upstairs. 

She shrugged indifferently, scooting to the edge of her seat. "You want to live the rest of your life alone? Okay.'' Before she could lift her butt off the couch, she was yanked down by the front of her shirt. One blink of her eyes and Natasha was on top of her, her fingers digging into the tight muscles of her arms. Katya bit back a smirk. She knew the pictures hit her hard.

''You're not going anywhere.''

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

Is this the end? (part III)

Katya is new at SHIELD. When she messes up during her probation, she thinks Fury will send her away. To ease the pain, she distances herself from Nat.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 4.8k • Warnings: angst, mentions of self-harm and (sexual) abuse (both not detailed) •A/N: The final part!! Sorry it took me over a month to finish... Hope you enjoy! Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

"Another lap! Keep going! Keep going!"

Katya's head still spun from the psychological tests they drowned her in this morning, and now they had her doing a military physical test in the Maryland afternoon rain. She completed the obstacle course in record time—as expected—and was now running laps around a muddy track with her lungs burning in her chest.

"Come on! I've seen kids go faster than that!"

Katya clenched her teeth, refraining from yelling anything back to the stupid woman in the middle of the track, with her stupid stopwatch and her stupid clipboard. There were two intimidating looking SHIELD agents, one at the south gate and one at the north, with pistols strapped to their legs, that wouldn't appreciate an outburst like that. 

She knew for a fact that she was going twenty percent faster than the fastest human being. Twenty percent smarter, twenty percent stronger, twenty percent faster. At least, that's what she was told. Who knows how true that all was. 

There were more things she didn't know about herself than she did know. This morning's tests had proven that once again. 

Besides the puzzles, the riddles, the IQ tests, the personality test, and the lie detector loyalty test—the one SHIELD knew she could beat if she wanted to—there was the shrink, the therapist. Katya hated them. Always pretending to understand what she felt, the sympathetic look, the invasive questions; those people could never help her. She didn't want their help.

But answering their questions was a part of this weird test day that she didn't fully understand, but she felt she had to behave for.

So she acted like nothing the shrink said bothered her, talked around things, and tried to fight off the pit of despair in her stomach when he asked her the most basic questions.

"Where were you born?"

"I don't know."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"No idea."

"What are the names of your parents?"

"Couldn't tell you."

Lucky for her, Katya didn't have time to dwell on them like she usually would. She was ordered to put on sports clothes and shoved in the back of a SHIELD van right after the interview ended. And now she was here, trying very hard not to think about them again as all the laps she ran blurred into one.

Instead, she tried to figure out what this testing thing was all about. Because last night, she was still one-hundred percent convinced she would have to leave SHIELD. No doubts. Her bags were packed. She had made peace with it. 

But then they pulled her out of bed at 6 this morning. First to put her in a room with all these tests; figural reasoning, logic-based reasoning, situational judgement. And now to test her physical fitness. All stuff to determine how good of a spy she'd be. 

Why?

Katya mulled over that single question on the journey here, to this SHIELD training facility. 

Why would they be testing her if they were sending her off?

That question spun around and around in her head. It was there as she climbed the rope net, there as she crawled through the mud—inches below barbed wire, there as she dashed across a slim beam, and there as her feet splashed tirelessly in the puddles on the oval track. 

She still didn't have a solid answer. 

She didn't dare to think about the positive answer. 

Nothing in her life had ever turned out good. Her stay at SHIELD—it had felt finite from the start. Too good to be true. She was a tool, one that was meant to work and function. Worthless if it didn't. There was no way SHIELD was going to keep her if she didn't function. The organizations she was a part of before didn't. Why would SHIELD be different? Even here, there must be no space for leniency.

No, they were definitely going to throw her by the side of the road like trash. 

Or—and this possibility started to claw at Katya's heaving chest with terror—they were selling her again. Back to the Russians. Back to whatever party wanted to have her.

Katya hadn't noticed her rhythmic steps had started to falter until a loud voice called across the field.

"Come on! Don't stop! Keep going!"

But she was heaving now, panic slashing through her body when she couldn't catch her breath. She stumbled clumsily, her heart racing in her chest. The ground rushed towards her. 

They were making her go back to Russia.

"Hey! Petrova!"

She wasn't gonna let them. Another life of abuse, of torture. She couldn't do it. She wouldn't do it.

"Are you hearing me?!"

She'd die before going back there. If she was going to be handed off, she was going to make a run for it. Either she'd make it out alive, or they'd shoot her dead. A win either way. 

"Are you hearing me? I said: keep going!"

Katya abruptly shot up, her eyes spitting fire as she turned around with newfound energy. "Shut up!" She screamed, so loudly her aching lungs burned. "I'm trying! Can't you see I'm trying!" 

Her supervisor blinked a few times, her thumb frozen on the start/stop button of the old-fashioned stopwatch. She didn't look surprised as Katya glared at her. That must not be a good thing.

Immediately knowing she fucked up, Katya turned around again and ran off as fast as her numb legs could carry her. Through the mud, through the soppy grass, with no real destination in mind. There was no way out of this fenced complex, but she didn't stop until she collapsed against the wall of an electricity cabin, black spots dancing across her vision. 

Tears burned behind her eyes. Her breath came and went in short bursts as she tried to fight off an even intenser panic attack. 

Everything was officially over. Yelling at her supervisor definitely closed the book of a life at SHIELD for good. And it was all her own fault. Her fault for not being good enough, and that was a completely new thing for her. She'd always been the best.

Katya turned her face up to the sky, the cold raindrops refreshing on her burning skin. She used them to ground herself, counting them one by one to gain control of her panicked body.

Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine.

Strangely enough, she longed for Natasha. The woman had no clue of her panic attacks, but Katya suddenly felt a strong need to have her by her side, helping her through this one.

Thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two.

Her chest ached, but not because of her lungs this time. She would have to say goodbye to Natasha again soon. 

Thirty-three, thirty-four.

Her tears mixed with the rain. All her emotions surrounding the redhead were a confusing mess. Where her whole life and future felt unsure and scary, Natasha was the center of calmness. If Katya thought of her, she felt strong, safe, able to do anything.

Thirty-five, thirty-six.

Natasha brought up emotions within her that Katya hadn't felt in ten years. Genuine happiness, affection, purpose, but most of all, that incredibly dangerous four-letter word.

Thirty-seven, thirty-eight.

But there was also fear, and guilt, and anger, and grief. One minute, Katya was confident of what she felt and wanted. The next, she was sure everything was doomed and nobody ever loved her.

Thirty-nine, forty.

"Petrova!" A voice called from the distance. Katya turned her head away from the sky, squinting through the rain. "We're done for today! Let's go! We're leaving!"

Forty-one, forty-two.

This was the end. But her life at SHIELD was doomed to end the day it started, so what did anything still matter?

~~~~

She didn't apologize for her outburst when she got into the car. The concept of a genuine apology was foreign to her. Nobody had ever said sorry to her. Not for touching her, not for beating her up, and not for starving her to death. So she never apologized either.

Rain, sweat, and mud dripped from her body onto the leather seats and the floor mats down below. Katya felt disgustingly gross, if that was even a thing. Her socks were wet, she stank, her skin felt gross, and her nails were black with mud. It only added to her emotional misery. 

She wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Her life had known very deep lows, but this must be one of the most painful moments of all. Right when everything was at the tips of her fingers, it fell out of reach. And that happened while she looked and felt like a drowned rat.

Shivering and shaking, Katya crawled out of the car an hour later, eager to take a shower. 

She decided not to wait any longer. After getting clean, she was going to pack her bags and leave. She had waited long enough. This had dragged out long enough. If they weren't going to make the decision, then she would, walking out of the best thing that ever happened to her.

"Fury wants to see you in this office."

That sentence should have instilled more fear into her than it did, but Katya felt physically nothing as she nodded once, turning to the lifts to freshen up before facing the most important man of the Western world.

"Right now."

She stopped and turned back to her supervisor, raising her eyebrows. Some dried mud cracked on her forehead. "Can't I shower first?"

"Now," the woman ordered, striding off with big steps.

Katya suppressed a scoff, sighing deeply as she dragged her feet to the elevators. What a way to get fired. She didn't blame the people that shuffled away from her in the elevator this time. In the reflection of the doors, she caught sight of herself and completely understood their disgust.

"What the hell happened to you?"

Those were not the first words Katya had expected to hear from her boss when she stepped into his office, but she hadn't missed the hint of amusement in his voice and in the glint of his eye. She couldn't blame him either.

Awkwardly, she pushed her damp hair behind her ears. "Maryland rain, sir," she answered stupidly, too paralyzed to come up with anything better.

Fury scoffed a laugh, rustling through the papers on his desk. "You better not drag any of that on my carpet."

"I'll try not to," Katya answered, standing even more still.

It appeared Fury had no rush, because he kept searching for something in the silence that settled into the room. She hoped he couldn't see her anxiety. Because despite her acceptance of the future, Katya's heart pounded in her chest with nerves. She hated it. There was only one emotion that could persist after all this: 

Hope.

Her mouth opened before she could stop it.

"Before you send me away, sir, I would like to say something, if I can." 

Blankly, Fury looked up. He couldn't be thrilled about an interruption, but Katya took his sudden attention and silence as a yes. She cleared her throat and felt the corners of her mouth turn up.

"I just want to say thank you. I know it wasn't generosity that allowed me to stay. It wasn't pity either. I don't know what it was. But you gave me an opportunity to become better, to turn my life around… and that means more to me than you'll ever know."

Now, she was ready to leave. Thanking him was the last thing on her to-do list before she could peacefully go. He was, after all, the first man who had ever protected her.

"Who said anything about sending you away?" 

Katya blinked—once, twice—trying to grasp the meaning of his words. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the world started to spin.

Fury sighed, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach. "I had Romanoff storm into my office on Monday. She's very… protective of you. Said I had no reason to doubt you. That you hadn't lied about anything. Was she wrong?"

"No, sir," Katya answered on autopilot. Her brain was numb, too confused trying to understand what the hell was going on. She was only half aware of what he was saying.

Fury calmly studied her. "I assume she told you that the mission was a test? A test of loyalty."

Katya nodded once. It had felt so unimportant when Natasha told her that. She failed her mission, test or not. End of story.

"See, I can never be certain of the choices someone makes until they are in a life or death situation," Fury continued. "When you joined our fine organization, you were locked up, literally chained to the floor with nowhere to go. It's easy to give up your loyalty that way."

His leather chair squeaked when he sat up straight, folding his hands together on his messy desk. His one eye pierced her skin until it stared straight into her soul. Katya had never felt more like a kid.

"So, I wanted to see if you'd do the same thing again. If choosing to join SHIELD was just a way to save your own ass, or that you really wanted a second chance."

A drop of rain water trickled down Katya's temple and cheek.

"The easy way out would have been to surrender to Hydra, convince them you joined us with the goal to spy on us and report back later. But you didn't. You fought for your freedom, for your return to us."

Part of Katya was hurt and furious that he put her through that. That he emotionally broke her by letting her believe that she messed up. But the bigger, rational part of her completely understood. Fury wasn't the director for nothing. He made smart choices—hard choices—in order to keep his organization safe. 

She wouldn't have trusted herself either if she was in his shoes. She had all the odds against her. Russian, a spy. She'd killed dozens of good guys, grown up brainwashed and indoctrinated. She'd been physically, mentally, emotionally and sexually abused her whole life, making her the most unstable, traumatized person on the planet.

The only reason she was standing here was because of Natasha. And because of that small, tiny spot in Fury's heart that was soft for lost, broken people like her.

Fury picked up the iPad in front of him, swiping and tapping on it until he started to read from it. "See, today, you gave me the best scores I've seen since Romanoff did the same military course. In dry weather." 

Surprised, Katya's lips parted. Her performance today didn't feel like anything special.

"You ran multiple track records forty minutes in. You're stronger than the strongest guy we have, you are more intelligent than most of the scientists we have down at the lab, with zero mistakes on the tests from this morning. Your aim is impeccable, and your situational judgement is excellent." Fury lowered the iPad, pointedly looking at her. "I would be extremely stupid to let a good spy like that walk out of my building."

Katya could hardly hear anything over the pounding in her ears. She was shaking so violently she feared she was spraying drops of water everywhere like a wet dog. "What are you saying?" She asked, suppressing the hope in her voice.

"That I'm taking a big leap—no a huge leap, by making you an official Agent of SHIELD, but I believe that you won't break my trust."

Katya squared her shoulders, ignoring the huge wave of relief that crashed into her. "I'll be the best, most loyal spy you've ever had."

Something flickered behind Fury's eyes. A smile? He reached for the drawer of his desk, pulling something out. "Somehow, I don't doubt that." 

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed something on the far side of his desk. Curious, Katya took a step closer, stretching out to see what it was.

Her own face stared back at her. 

Katariina Alina Petrova. Level 1.

"Welcome to SHIELD, Agent Petrova."

~~~~

Katya pulled her knees tighter to her chest, closing her eyes and enjoying the hot water that cascaded down her body. It wasn't only cleansing her skin, but her heavy soul, slowly washing away all these months of insecurity and tension, revealing the person that she forgot existed underneath. It felt freeing, like a rebirth.

Another violent tremble shook her so badly that her teeth clattered. For this reason, she had to sit down to shower. It started once she realized she was safe, shedding her muddy clothes on the bathroom floor. First, she'd thrown up her lunch in the toilet and nearly fainted, and then the trembles started. It was just her body's way of getting rid of all the tension.

Katya didn't even mind it. She was too ecstatic to be bothered. Her sobs bounced off the tiled walls in relief, in disbelief, in happiness. She sobbed until her lungs hurt. It felt so good.

There was only one person on her mind who she desperately wanted to share the news with. The only reason she hadn't stormed over there immediately after getting her SHIELD ID was because of the way she looked and smelled. And because of the way Katya had been treating her these past few weeks… 

It took an hour for her body to calm down enough that it was safe to stand up. Katya got out of the shower on shaky legs, made herself look presentable, and then snuck to the kitchen. Her stomach felt queasy, her throat raw and dry. She chugged a whole bottle of water and stuffed a sandwich down before stealing something out of the special cabinet.

Even the hallways of SHIELD HQ felt different as she walked through them. She saw things she'd never seen before because she had been too anxious, too focused to see them. She'd never fully taken in all the details, because why would she do that if she wasn't sure that she could get to stay? Like a foster kid that didn't dare unpack their clothes until a few months later because they weren't sure if their foster parents would want to keep them.

Katya sat outside, by the river, on one of the only recreational benches that were placed there. HQ was built on such a small island that there wasn't much space around it. And all the space that was there, was used efficiently. Agents that wanted to go on a stroll in the fresh air had to cross the bridge. 

But Katya wasn't looking for exercise. She was looking for a quiet place to drink. Was that a smart idea on a sensitive stomach? No. Probably a very bad idea. But even though she felt on top of the world, the reality of her actions also came down on her in this sudden clarity of emotions. 

She'd treated Natasha like shit. Avoided her, yelled at her, ignored her. And the redhead had deserved none of those things. 

Katya's heart ached when she thought about it. She couldn't help how dark things got when she fell into a depression like that, but it didn't mean she shouldn't take responsibility for her actions. It wasn't an excuse to behave like she did. 

But it was so, so hard to talk about. Emotions, feelings, they weren't supposed to be spoken about. They were supposed to be hidden. She was supposed to be stronger than those raging feelings in her body. Look where it brought her if she gave in.

Katya shook her head strictly and took another sip of vodka. Those were toxic thoughts. Things they programmed her with. She was human, and humans had feelings, and feelings were meant to be felt. What she was about to do went against everything she was taught.

She was going to apologize to Natasha. 

By the time she managed to muster up the courage to knock on Natasha's apartment door, she'd finished half the bottle of vodka. It had done little to nothing to ease her nerves. Her hands still shook as she pushed her ID deeper into the back pocket of her jeans and fiddled with the cap of the vodka bottle.

Katya was prepared for anything. If Natasha wanted to slam the door in her face and yell mean things at her, then she deserved that. Honestly, she expected it. Anything slightly better than that would be too generous.

Her heart threatened to burst out of her throat when she heard shuffling on the other side of the wooden door. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she should just send a text message. But before she could actually bail, the door swung open.

Natasha froze in place, her eyes widening. "Kat," she breathed in surprise. It must have come out different than she wanted to, because she shifted her weight around and added a more casual, ''Hey.''

She must have seen the difference in Katya's demeanor right away, right when she laid eyes on her. The dark war flag had been taken down for one of surrender. Usually, it was a shame to wave a white flag. But in this case, it was bravery.

"Hey," Katya answered with a trembling half smile, avoiding Natasha's gaze in a way that was meant to be nonchalant. Stupidly, she hadn't thought of what to say. Who the hell came up to give an apology and didn't rehearse what to say first? "I have something for you."

As disoriented as she was, Natasha took the bottle of vodka without thinking. When she held it up to study it, Katya realized what an incredibly stupid gift it was, and how she deserved a slap in the face for this terrible attempt at an apology. It's just as soon as she was in front of Natasha, all the words left her brain.

"Yeah, sorry, I drank half of it," Katya said sheepishly when she saw the odd look on Natasha's face. "I needed some courage to come talk to you.''

Her vulnerable confession came as a surprise to both of them. Natasha's expression visibly softened while Katya fought the urge to run away or make a joke to cover it up. She'd never felt this uncomfortable, but she rooted her boots into the floor and refused to give in to it.

Natasha turned the bottle over in her hand, reading the label on the back. "Where did you get this?" Katya was grateful she didn't comment on her confession.

"The kitchen."

The redhead's head snapped up. "You stole this?" Her eyes flickered left and right into the hallway, the blood draining from her face. She looked afraid. "Kat, one foot wrong and you're out—"

"Yeah, I wouldn't worry about that anymore." With a sly smile, Katya pulled her new SHIELD ID from her pocket and held it up. 

The rest of Natasha's scolding words died in her throat. Her mouth closed, and she slowly raised her free hand to take the ID. It was obvious that Katya had surprised her. So many different emotions crossed over her face but they were gone too quickly to nail down. She was too hard to read. Even for Katya right now.

"When did you get this?'' She asked distractedly, reading the words on the very plain, very boring ID. Katya's headshot wasn't even pretty. They took it right as she came out of the isolation cell, when she had barely seen the sun in weeks. 

''Two hours ago?'' She nervously chewed on her lip. She couldn't tell if Natasha was happy about it. What if she didn't want her to stay anymore after this week? Oh gosh, what then?

But then, right as Katya couldn't take it anymore, a smile broke through on Natasha's face. ''Well, shit.'' She gave a disbelieving chuckle, her green eyes sparkling proudly as she looked her childhood friend in the eye. ''Congrats. I knew you could do it.''

Katya felt tingly all over. The first person to believe in her wasn't herself, it was Natasha. For a long time, it was only Natasha. It made her want to hold her chin up a bit higher, and try a little bit harder. For her. 

''Thank you.'' She ignored the heat in her cheeks as she stuck the ID back in her pocket. Receiving compliments was an art she didn't master, so she covered it up with a joke. "A lot of people aren't going to be happy with this decision."

Natasha scoffed cockily, stepping aside to let Katya into her apartment. "Screw that. You belong with m—us now. I always knew, but now it's on paper too." She shrugged her shoulders after she closed the door, placing the vodka on a cabinet to the side. "Or on plastic, I guess."

Puzzle pieces fell into place. Peace settled over Katya like a warm blanket in the winter as she looked around Natasha's plain apartment. This was her home now. She was officially safe. She had friends who had her back. She belonged somewhere. She could breathe.

The emotions were so overwhelming. The urge to curl up into a ball on the floor and cry happily was so strong. Twenty-three years of living and she finally had a place in this world.

"Natalia.'' 

Natasha was already looking at her, but Katya felt the need to say her name, to make sure she was listening. That she knew something serious was coming. Uneasily, the blonde shuffled in her spot, staring at Natasha's stomach instead of looking into her eyes. She wouldn't be able to say what she wanted to say.

''I'm sorry.'' Her throat felt tight. The words were hard to get out. But Katya pushed them out and threw her heart at Natasha's feet. ''I really thought Fury was going to send me away. I tried to make it easier for myself by distancing myself from you, to try and make the heartbreak hurt less. It was stupid, and unfair, and I hurt you, and I'm really sorry for that."

She sucked in a shallow breath. That was the most open she'd been her whole life. But it felt good to get that off her chest.

"It was stupid," Natasha said. Shocked by her bluntness, Katya forgot her nerves and looked up. "Stupid to think I wouldn't follow you out that door if you left."

Katya quickly shook her head, refusing to acknowledge the weight of those words. "I would never want you to give all this up for me. It's the reason I didn't come to find you in the first place.''

''Looks like I don't have to give up anything now.'' Natasha looked so sure about her decision that Katya didn't even try to argue any more. She just observed the woman standing in front of her. The one she didn't deserve in every lifetime.

"I'm sorry, Talia. Again. I fell into old habits."

"Don't beat yourself up. You're already forgiven,'' Natasha said softly. She glanced at the floor, sliding her hands into her back pockets. ''I also want to say sorry, for the way I reacted when I found you in the shooting range.'' She shook her head, as if she disapproved of herself. ''That could've been done way better. I was just—you scared me.''

Katya mirrored her depressing mood, shame washing over her in waves. She was so far away from that state of mind right now, that it was hard to understand why she wanted to dig that knife into herself to begin with. ''That was the first time somebody was there to stop me,'' she muttered, immediately beating herself up over saying that when Natasha's face saddened further. 

''I'm sorry.''

Katya shook her head. ''I don't want you to feel like you have to keep me alive or something.''

''I don't feel like that,'' Natasha answered with conviction. ''But when you ever feel that urge again, will you come to me?''

''I can try.''

The redhead nodded once, then straightened up and took the vodka from the cabinet. ''Enough of the heavy stuff. We should celebrate. Have you been to the roof?'' She asked mysteriously, a smug sparkle in her bright eyes. And just like that, the conversation was over and they were all good again.

''No…?'' Katya answered warily.

Natasha smiled, swinging the door open. ''Let's go then, Agent Petrova.''

Katya chuckled as she passed through, watching Natasha take a big swig of the liquor as they walked down the hallway. ''You do realize you're going to be stuck with me forever now, right?''

''It's the only way I wanted it.''