#natasha romanoff x sibling reader

[romanoffsbish]

A Beautiful Mess

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

College AU; Nat x Yelena x Sibling!R

Warnings: Wanda is a bit of a Fuckboy, aka, Angst -> Fluff | Themes of Insecurity | Violence/Injury. |

Smut: Switches. Mommy(Slip) (W), Detka/Good Girl (R) Oral/Fingering (W), Face Riding (R). Tribbing. Degradation. Praise. Overstim. Marking.

When Valkyrie had invited you out tonight you were hesitant to accept the offer, and when she simply reiterated her words with an emphasis on date you were stunned into breathlessness.

You weren't known as a party person, you were a homebody that joined at the most random of times, as in when forced by Yelena or Wanda.

——

Your little sister always wanted to keep you included, because she loved having you around, and well, you made her feel safe. Instead of saying this, she'd get you to go by telling you that staying home with your books and studies made you too boring like Natasha and she couldn't stand to have another her.

You knew, without a shadow of doubt, that Yelena would not approve of this date, she is a fan of vetting your potential suitors—all one of them that you've had, and she's good at the job. She expressly warned you just how bad news that devilish woman was. You brushed her off though, and by the following weekend you were ugly sobbing over a pint of ice cream with your sisters. Natasha held you, and Yelena held a smug grin until the redhead swatted it away.

Doubling down, the blonde had sworn you off from her Rugby teammates, she knew how they got down, and she'd warned you of their severe inability to commit to a game plan most days, let alone to another human being. So trusting the woman tonight was a gamble, you'd always been told that that was what love was. It was meant to, hypothetically, be well worth the risk. Your mother Melina's lengthy divorce an example of the potential fallout, but even with the odds stacked against you, you're gonna try.

Which is probably why you don't gamble much.

Then there's the problem of Wanda Maximoff, the woman that makes your heart beat wildly in your chest. Like now, just the thought of her gets you excited beyond words, but you've got no right to feel this way, she wasn't yours. At least not the way you want, you were merely friends with exponential benefits, like sex. 

You trust her wholly, you've known her since middle school, she was Nat's best friend, so the unwelcome feelings of love sadly made sense.

You'd always been just as close as you were all in the same grade, but where their relationship was a strong platonic field of friendship that was oh so easy to navigate, the two of yours was more like a shakily crafted dance, there was an obvious mutual attraction, but it was usually disregarded for the sake of peace. Nat was fiercely protective of you along with Lena, and truth be told so was Wanda, you were too nice, so they always had to look out for you.

It was exactly why when you set off for college, instead of the military like Natasha, that you'd ended up with the woman as a dorm mate. Nat had pleaded with the school to make it happen, and though Wanda was nonchalant about the whole making it happen part, she was ecstatic when move in day came. After the first set of frat parties you'd all attended there was a shift between the two of you, it was as if with your minds clouded that invisible barrier fell away.

The following morning came with headaches, and before you could express how happy you were that this finally happened Wanda spoke up first, and made you grateful you never did.

It was well known to you that she enjoyed her freedom, and that included being able to sleep with whomever, whenever she pleased. You also knew that no one else got to cuddle her afterwards, so you took that as a win, she clearly loved you, she just didn't know how to.

She came from a broken family too, her father died when she was younger, and her mother eventually remarried an asshole for his surplus of money, she couldn't fathom finding love if it was so easily lost, and the way her mother tried to replace her dad left a bitterness in her heart.

So for a little over two years now the two of you've been sleeping together casually, well as casual as two people can be when ignoring the glaring truth. The feelings you have for her continue to grow by the day, but you expertly keep them locked away in a vault located beneath your heart. Ignorance is bliss right?

Most importantly though, neither of your sisters know about the sex. They loved Wanda, but they loved you a hell of a lot more. You knew if your sisters figured it out the whole thing would come crashing down, and you couldn't risk that. You'll take Wanda in whatever way she presents herself to you.

The only problem you face here though is the brunette's jealousy, she tries to mask it when she sees you swiping on apps, but you see it. Every time without fail she'd find a way to wave off the people on the app, "They're too ugly for a pretty girl like you Y/N," or "I know them, trust me, you're not missing much," and her favorite is, "Aren't we having enough fun?"

It was usually then that you'd lock your phone and leave the dorm in a hurry. The last thing you wanted was to blow up on her, but it also hurt to be treated this way by the one you love.

As if you were meant to rely on her for all your affection, but she could seek it out elsewhere.

Wanda was good at making you forget the hurt when you'd return, she'd pout at you as soon as you entered the dorm, then without words she would apologize. Usually with dinner, and a movie that led to you beneath her, her plans of one sided exclusivity working once again. But in this scenario she wasn't able to stop the ball from rolling as your majors were opposite.

Wanda couldn't keep Valkyrie from getting to you when she was unaware of her interest, and as you told her about it in a rush to get ready she was left stunned on her lumpy mattress.

"Y/N/N," she whined, "I had a movie set up, and all the junk food in the world for us!"

Wanda was missing you like crazy as of late, you'd been neglecting her insatiable need for you without intending to as midterm season set in. Nearly every day now you'd stumble in a little after midnight truly exhausted, and she'd have to watch you slump into your bed with hardly a mumble of good night before snores filled the dreadfully boring room, she hated it.

She hated the way you overworked yourself, but she found she hated this much more. Val knew, hell, majority of the campus knew you were logistically unspoken for, but you were not, you were Wanda's. "I love you Wands, but I am not skipping a date for the Barbie movie."

"I'll have you know this is part of a feminist movement!" She gasped as she threw a pack of little bites at your head, it was her last chance to reel you in, but it failed as you set it back on her tray of snacks. You offered her a sad smile, "I'll be back around 12am if I don't get lucky, if that's the case we can gorge out and watch it."

Wanda watched you leave with a scowl, you most certainly wouldn't be getting lucky tonight if she had anything to do with it, there's not a chance in hell someone else gets to have you when you fit so perfectly in her arms.

—

Wanda didn't have much to worry about it turned out, as not even fifteen minutes into the party did you find yourself all alone. Nobody paid you any mind as they brushed by, except for the few sleazy guys sizing you up, probably determining if you'd give it up or were a prude.

After a few more moments of solitude you left the table of drinks Valkyrie left you at, and awkwardly went in search of her only to find out Yelena was right. Valkyrie wasn't to be trusted, and you learned that as you witnessed her tongue down the throat of an innocent bystander, Darcy Lewis, while sat in the lap of her smirking ex girlfriend Carol Danvers lap.

"Um, can you tell me where you left my coat?"

Valkyrie turned to you with a dazed expression, clearly she held no regrets. But it just as soon morphed into one of terror at the unconsidered realization when she'd asked you out, the idea of Yelena finding out was a tad worrisome.

Val had every intention of showing you a good time, then she saw Carol flirting with Darcy and left you at the table in a jealous rage.

"Y/N, I," she lazily began to defend herself as she clamored off her tumultuous lovers lap, and you watched with pity as the science nerd from your Wednesday course scrambled off.

"Save it Valkyrie, I knew you were a sleaze, but I needed the distraction so I accepted the date," you spat, "What a shame I didn't get any head."

"There's still time," Carol offered, chuckling softly to herself when you only flipped her off.

"Please, don't tell Yelena," she tried to appeal to you, she knew from high school experience that you were the more gentle of your sisters.

You snorted, "We both know it doesn't matter, she always finds out, you're already doomed."

"You have to have some pull," Carol tried, she appeared calm, but you could see the sweat on her brows. "Cute, how much of a pushover do you take me to be Danvers? I'll let her find out, and I'll make sure to cry really good for her."

Before the jocks could catch you by the arm to try and plead their case you'd slipped through the crowd of sweaty bodies, and out the front door. Aimless as you were the day you were born as you quickly left the fraternity house.

You sniffled as you walked across the dimly lit football field of your campus, an after effect of streaming tears that had since dried up under the influence of the brisk winter wind. Dread filled you at the prospect of going home, you knew that if you went to Mama Melina's your sisters would be at the frat house in seconds.

That made you grimace just at the thought, sure they hurt you, however your heart will mend in due time, but you fear that if your sisters got to the jocks their bones wouldn't.

You also knew that if you returned to your dorm before two am, the one you share with your sometimes lover, she'd still be awake. Then she would be doing much of the same.

Neither option suited your fancy, so after you used the sleeve of your worn down hoodie to wipe at your raw to the touch nose you pulled out your phone to try for Kate. But as if fate had a funny way of working its magic you met not only the aforementioned woman, but also the grassy ground as you tumbled over her.

"Sestra, what's happened? Why are you crying? Why are you out wandering all alone this late?! Do you have no sense of safety? Hello??"

Great, Yelena was here too, you found out as she now hovered over you. It was hard to make out her features as her curled hair shielded her face from the stadium lights, but you could see her bright eyes full of concern. "I-I," you tried to give her some excuse, but when you saw her pouting down at you empathetically you lost your resolve; the shifty dam broke once more.

Yelena looked to Kate in a panic, the archer jumped into gear when she heard your sobs. The couple rearranged you so that Yelena could sit down and hold you tightly from behind, one of the few fond memories you held close to your heart from your time in the orphanage.

Kate sat down beside you two, settling down to the left of your bodies. Ever the prepared one she had reached into her bag and pulled out some tissues, water, and some chewing gum.

After you practically melted into your sister, you felt Kate dabbing away the tears and snot that now dripped down your face, and neck. The embarrassment you felt was immense, but as if she knew—she always did, she shushed you like a mother hen does her hoard of chicks.

"Shhh honey, it's okay, trust me, I've dealt with so much worse when your little sister is sick," Kate coo'd softly with a silly smirk following her words, and to both of the women's delight you giggled hoarsely.

"I'm not little."

Your sisters serious grumbling from behind you caused you to cackle brokenly, as funny as she was your throat was far too parched to produce the proper sounds. Kate took that as her sign to lift the bottle to your lips, and you gulped it down appreciatively, and so she tilted it with you to ensure you got every last dribble.

"All better?" Yelena asked concernedly from behind to which you nodded while smiling at her girlfriend who extended you a piece of gum, "Can you tell us what happened sestra?"

Kate sent her lover a glare as she watched your lip wobble again, tears once again brimmed, and you spun in your sisters arms to try and offer her an explanation, but she could see by the guilty look in your eyes you'd broken rules.

"Who did it?" her voice was level, there was a lilt of danger to it though, and you shivered.

You nearly said Wanda, because though it was Valkyrie who set you off tonight, it was Wanda that you saw with every intrusive thought.

"Valkyrie," you hiccup, "a-and Carol."

"Ya ub'yu ikh," the blonde growled, her arms now significantly tighter around you. "Net."

(I will kill them / No)

"What do you mean no? They knew better!"

"So did I," you remind her with a heavy sigh, "You warned me, and I still accepted the date."

Yelena didn't plan on fully letting this go, but for the sake of your happiness she dropped it for now and with the help of Kate she got you back on your feet, "Where were you going?"

You shrugged, and the blonde was perplexed. This obviously wasn't the way to your dorm, she once again brushed passed the unknown though, and instead she pulled you in close to keep you warm, "We'll go to mama's then, I know how much you have missed Natasha."

"Okay," you smiled softly as you agreed with her, Natasha only just returned from her tour in Germany, and you were all going home next weekend to see her, but sooner sounded better.

You quietly walked in the middle of the couple, both of them holding your hand in a protective manner that made you feel so warm that the frigid cold air stopped bothering you as much.

Natasha was posted at the front door, her arms opened a mile away and you sprinted up the driveway until you were sobbing into her chest.

"What am I? Chopped liver?" Yelena groaned, but she smiled at your older sister who nodded to her that she was safe to take Kate to bed.

Their plans of partying long over, and as Kate had always wanted, they were cuddled up watching cheap reality television while you were right next door in Natasha's bed.

"Wanna talk about it krolick?" You nodded against her arm, moving to sit up so you could properly look at her as you poured your heart out. "I just want someone to love me Natty."

Natasha instantly frowned. "Lena, Mama, Kate, Wanda, and I all love you Y/N. Like, a lot!"

You wanted to scoff, to tell your sister that the only reason this mess exists is because the one person you wish loved you didn't. The same one she listed off, but that wasn't fair to the redhead who was just trying to comfort you.

"I know you guys do Natty, but I want more."

"Well, there's no rush on that," Natasha tried to reason with you. "Love takes time, and I think college frat parties are the worst place to go looking for the real thing. Let it find you."

"That's easy enough for you to say Nat," you sighed. "Lena has Kate, and you found Maria. There's always been someone waiting for you guys, I've never had that, nobody wants me."

"That isn't true Y/N, you're wanted."

"By my family, sure." You grimaced at the thought of seeming so pathetic. "When does someone want me for more than sex? When am I someones person to come home to, huh? To tell about their day? To miss? To love!!!"

"I don't know Y/N," Natasha confessed as she shrugged, then she pulled you back down onto her bed, and you instinctively tucked into her warm side. She smiled with the offer of hope as she went on, "All I do know is that they'll find you when it's the right time. Not everyone falls in love in their twenties, and that's okay."

"I sure hope you're right Natty, because I'm tired of longing for someone who'll never want me the same way that I've always wanted her."

The redhead's brows furrowed, but you were gone before she could seek clarity. As far as she'd been concerned this was the first attempt on the dating scene since Riley Thompson, that retched strawberry blonde from your first year. She knows that's a foolish train of thought, but still, it also makes no sense for you to be this torn up over Valkyrie, who'd been a grade A douche ever since she won the puberty lottery.

Once she knew you were out, in true protective big sister (by three months) fashion, she found a way to make it better as she called the uni cops on the jocks. Mutual friends of yours on social media began to post snippets of flashing lights and she beamed at the mess she made.

If she couldn't knock their lights out she'd introduce them to an array of red and blue.

Feeling content with the situation she settled her phone down, along with her glasses before clapping to get the bedside lamp to turn off.

"Goodnight krolick," she whispered, the sweet release of sleep had nearly consumed her too, but then a loud knocking came from the front door and she figured it was the jocks with silly plans of retaliation. So she gently left your side, grabbed her high tech taser batons she built in high school, then swung the front door open.

"Wanda?" Natasha stepped out into the cold winter night with a deep scowl at the sight of her distraught friend, "Why are you here knocking so loudly at three in the morning?"

"Where is she Nat? She didn't come home, then she left me on delivered, an-and I-I saw the." Wanda paused suddenly as she tried to refrain from leaving and punching the jocks again. Natasha saw the way her bruising hands reflexively fisted, and she knew what'd likely happened here. "You know what happened?"

Wanda nods, "Yeah, and I handled them."

"You could lose your scholarship Wanda," Natasha scolds the girl halfheartedly, she knew that you'd say the same, so she mentioned it.

"I couldn't give a fuck less Natasha."

Natasha nodded in understanding, she too was one sob of yours away from knocking their teeth in, but she couldn't risk losing her job.

"I need to see her, please," Wanda grabbed her best friends shoulders in a panic, their eyes met and in a flash Natasha saw the secrets unfolding, and for a moment she felt betrayed.

Why would you both keep this a secret?

Then she saw the love the woman held for you, and part of her wonders if your groveling over heartache was rooted in your clearly hidden relationship with the brunette more so than it had been any of Valkyrie and Carol's doing.

Natasha was about to speak, to deny her access to you, at least for tonight in her frazzled state, because you didn't need anymore grief tonight. She however didn't get the chance as the front door opened and cast a light upon her back. Your soft sniffles an indicator on who it was, and Wanda wasted no time shoving passed her to get to you. The sight of you so sad broke her, but she didn't give that away, you needed her.

So with shaky hands she cupped your cheeks, she continuously wiped away the tears that ran from an unending well, she smiled so softly at you that you momentarily forgot the audience.

It reminded you of all the times she'd held you as you cried in your dorm. When you were overwhelmed with your classes, and she'd spend the entire day trying to make it better. Cracking lame jokes, and holding you extra close just to hopefully make you smile.

So for a fleeting moment you leaned into her touch as you slipped into your delusional fantasy that this was more than sex, then you looked at your gobsmacked sister and took a step back as you remembered the harsh truth.

"What are you doing here Wanda?"

The question came off almost accusingly, as if she were a stranger, but she paid it no mind, you had every right to feel the way you did.

"I had to see you, I was worried sick detka," she rushed forward to bridge the gap, and wrapped her arms around you to hug you close to her, "You didn't come home, or answer my calls."

"It was late, and I didn't want to disturb you."

Wanda stiffened as you lied, you'd never lied to her before, and she can't understand why now.

"You could never disturb me Y/N, I promise you that much," she instantly moved to squash the intrusive thought that kept you away, "You should also know better than to lie to me."

"Wa—."

"No, I saw the party Y/N, I went through story after story looking for a sign of you, and I grew worried when there was none; after awhile I stumbled upon your date locking lips with that skank ex girlfriend of hers, your absence there made sense, but it didn't back at home. Why?"

"It was embarrassing, okay?" You practically shouted as you ripped yourself out of her hold, "My first date since Riley and I couldn't even manage to keep this dates attention either."

Wanda instantly frowned at your outburst, she desperately tried to reach for you but you held her away with a firm grip on her shoulders.

"Do you know what it's like Wanda?" You stared right into her soul, "To be the girl everyone is down to fuck, but never to love?"

Wanda's eyes filled with tears, because sure you were speaking in generalizations with Nat stood only a few paces away, but she knew you were speaking to her directly at this juncture.

"Who am I kidding, of course you don't," you shook your head with incredulous laughter, "When you walk in a room everyone's eyes are on you, they want a shot with you, they want to win your affection, and that's where we differ."

Your hold on her fell as you picked up the blanket to rewrap it around you, you were about to ask her to leave, loud enough so that Nat would make her, then your eyes fell to her clenched fists and you gasped, your face etched with concern, "Wanda, what did you do?"

"What needed to be done," she replied with a venom in her tone you were unfamiliar with, "Nobody hurts you without consequence."

The brunette lifted her gaze to send you a soft smile, but when you peered into her eyes all you saw was guilt. Something you now felt sorry for causing. "I'll see you back at home."

Wanda walked away too fast for you to even say anything, let alone stop her, but Natasha saw the panic steadily building in your gaze.

"How did you get here Wan?" Natasha asks as she gently placed a hand on her to stop her.

"I walked here," she shrugs the redhead off, and once again she tries to walk away, but Natasha grabs her shirt from behind and pulls her towards the house, "You'll have the couch."

Natasha lightly shoved Wanda passed the threshold, the animosity clear in her gesture, then she pulled your stunned form indoors and into her much warmer body for a brief hug, "Go back to bed krolick," she kissed your cheek, then silently ushered you up the stairs.

As soon as you were gone the redhead sat across from her best friend with a stern glare, "How long have you been fucking my sister?"

Wanda grimaced, it sounded so dirty when she said it like that, and you were anything but. Engaging with you sinfully was never a dirty experience, it was always a heartwarming one.

"Don't say it like that," she spat, and met her glare with one of her own, "It's not like that."

"How is it not?" Natasha pressed, "People don't let their girlfriend go on dates with other girls."

"She's not my girlfriend," Wanda's tone was much quieter now, she was clearly ashamed, and that was enough to settle Nat's worries.

"Fix this mess Wanda. You're my bestfriend, but Y/N is." Wanda cut her off, "Everything."

"Da," Natasha nodded as she stood, glad they could come to such an agreement. Nat quietly moved towards a chest near the stairs and pulled a blanket from it to give to the brunette, "Get some rest Wanda, tomorrow's a new day."

Natasha returned to her room, and upon seeing it empty of you she couldn't help but to smile. Of course you couldn't just wait for tomorrow.

You initially did return to her bed, but you were restless the more you thought about the way this night had played out. As much as you tried to remember your agreement, you could not shake the fact that Wanda was here for you. She walked here in the dead of night just to get to you, she recklessly paid no mind to her future's stability when she punched those girls, nor to her safety when she walked here alone.

The image of her busted hands is what made you leave the comfort of your sister's bed as you went to collect the first aid kit, and once you heard Natasha's door close you descended to make your way to the living room. With a cautious step you entered to see Wanda with her eyes closed, but you knew she was awake. You'd spent too many mornings trapped in her arms to not know when she's merely resting.

"Wands," you lightly brushed your fingers over the arm that now laid over her closed eyes, "You need to sit up for me." She slid her arm up so that she could peak up at you, "Why?"

You sighed through your nose as you held up the kit, she softened her eyes, but she didn't move, she felt too undeserving, "I'm okay Y/N, you should go to sleep, you must be tired."

"I'm not," you relayed a half truth, because you were truly exhausted, but you couldn't sleep, not with her hurting just a floor below you.

When Wanda realized you weren't going to give up she sat up, pulling her legs to her chest in a protective position and you settled down next to her and began to unpack what you needed.

After her hands were disinfected and wrapped you looked into her eyes, and momentarily melted. Then, under the dim lighting in the living room you finally noticed Wanda's busted lip, and the deep cut overlaying her eyebrow.

It infuriated you to think that they'd retaliated so brutally, "They look worse detka," Wanda cockily muttered, her green eyes had yet to leave your face, so she easily read your troubled thoughts. You rolled your eyes at the sight of her smug, ego inflating smile.

"Doesn't help," you grumbled, with a clenched jaw you reached up to trace a soaked gauze pad over her brow, her eyes fluttered shut, and your heart broke further at the soft breath she sucked between her teeth. She was trying to downplay the hurt, but it wasn't working.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, and her eyes shot open within an instant. It was easy enough to believe you meant it over the first aid, but she knew you well enough to know it went deeper.

"Don't," she warned, "You have no reason to be. I never should've let you go out with her."

"Wanda," you sighed softly, "I'm not yours."

Her lip wobbled as you spoke the truth, it was her biggest regret to date. "Do you want to be?"

"Goodnight Wanda," you easily deflected, standing up to retreat, you suddenly felt overexposed under her gaze, but she rounded the couch and blocked you from leaving. Far too desperate to let you just slip away again.

"Y/N," she pleaded, "Don't run, I'm begging."

"Wanda please move, I'm tired."

"You just said you weren't," she challenged, and you whined in frustration, "Now I am."

"Y/N.."

"People can change their minds Wanda," you spat while brushing passed her, as guilty as you felt over her physical state, you weren't going to just give her a pass for her transgressions.

"Yeah, I know, that's what I'm trying to do."

"Until the next pretty girl traipses passed you in a skirt at a party, then you'll go fuck her."

"No," Wanda rejected, dulled eyes now glazed over, it's true what they say, the truth hurts.

You scoffed, "Oh, sorry, does she fuck you?"

Wanda looked up at you in disbelief, you were getting bold here, and as much as she deserved it that one especially hurt. Because the truth was no, she never let anyone but you touch her.

"Of course not, Y/N, I-I," she tried to tell you, but it was proving hard. Vulnerability wasn't exactly her strong suit, not romantically that is.

"I can't do it anymore Wands," you admitted, the fury in your tone replaced with exhaustion.

"Wait, what are you saying?"

"I talked to Mama, she said I can move back in, my old room is still the same," you smiled at her sadly, "I think this is best for us both."

"No," she was now clinging to your shirt, you saw the way she winced while gripping your shirt and it hurt you to see her so broken. It was all your doing, she was truly better off.

"I love you," the words flew out of her mouth desperately, she clung to you even harder, and continued to whisper the hypnotizing words.

"Wanda, I love you too, but—."

"No, I mean it in the sickening way in which I wake up before our alarms go off just to watch you sleep," she rushed the words out in a panic, failing to see the slight twitch at the corner of your lips. "An-and sometimes I want to dance with you in the middle of the street, like after one of Lena's games because you just always look so damn pretty under the street lights."

You cut her off with a kiss, it was fleeting, and earned you whimpers of disappointment as you pulled away, "Do you mean it Wanda? This isn't just some weird way to get me to stay?"

She instantly shook her head, "I've never meant anything like I do this Y/N, I want you."

"Ask me again." Your lips ghosted dangerously over hers, teasing her with the possibility for more if she'd just speak her heart. "Marry me?"

"Woah, Wanda chill," you cackled in a whisper, "You're skipping like so many of the steps."

The brunette smirked at you, "Why play by the fixed rules when I know how it ends detka?"

"Oh, so you are a fortune teller now?" She nodded. "Yeah, let me tell you how this goes." Her smile was wicked as she lowered her tone, "Tonight, you're going to take me to bed, and hopefully you'll make the wedding bells ring."

Wanda squealed quietly when you lunged forward and attached your lips to hers. Convenience was on your side tonight as you walked Wanda back until she met a door, you opened it with ease, and she stumbled as she lost the support of the wood as you pushed her passed the threshold and onto your mattress.

Wanda giggled maniacally, effectively breaking the kiss. "What's so funny?" You questioned with a smirk as you stared down at her, you very much understood her amused expression.

"Barney is staring into my soul," she mused, truth be told the idea of you making love to her in your childhood room wasn't a fantasy she ever indulged in back in high school, but it was one she repeatedly had, especially after one of your softball games. It always got her heated.

"He'd approve," you reasoned and she quirked a brow at you, "What? I love you, and you love me, and that's like his entire monologue."

She slapped your shoulder and gasped, "Y/N!"

"Shall I stop then?" You began to lift off of her but she shook her head in the negatory so fast you moved your lips to the soft skin of her neck instead. "Good, because I didn't want to."

"Never do," she whimpered, her body shaking with excitement as you lightly touched her.

Wanda was wearing a zip up jacket, as you marked up the sensitive skin of her throat your hand wandered up to the zipper. She clasped her hand over yours in a pleading manner, her not so subtle attempt to urge you on quicker. She guided your hand down, unzipping the grey jacket that you now recognize to be your own only to reveal her bare chest to you.

A wave of arousal surged through you seeing that she wore nothing beneath your jacket. "Fucking hell Wanda," you groaned a moment later as you removed a pair of your sweats to find the same reality. You realize now that she must've been waiting for you to return to your dorm in only one of her many oversized shirts.

You chuckled, "Oh you are such a fucking slut." Wanda whimpered affectedly, you always knew just how to get the brunette going with your taunts, as well as your touches. She squirmed as you focused in on her breasts with your mouth. Swirling your hot tongue around the cooled metal that pierced through her extremely sensitive nubs, all while your hands were feather light as they roamed her body.

"Please," Wanda hadn't even been a prisoner to your teasing touches for a minute before she was canting her hips up and begging for more. "I need you detka, please! No one else can touch me like you do Y/N... Only you..."

Wanda smiled insecurely as you stared at her a bit dumbfounded. The answer to your question was in her glistening eyes, she's being honest.

A new wave of pride surged through your chest at the knowledge. Something almost feral took over your mind at the idea that only you've had Wanda beneath you. Nobody else will ever get to see her like this, a total beauty to marvel at with her hair splayed across the sheets as she desperately sought your touch. They'll never know what it's like to kiss her breathless, or to taste her divined nectar, or get to masterfully bring her over that edge of bliss like you do.

Wanda's body trembled with delight as you sloppily kissed down it, you were moving at a speed she wasn't accustomed to. Normally you were slow, and teasing, but it was as if a switch went off and you lost control of your urges.

You stopped just as you reached her cunt, hot breaths fanning over her mound from your nose after each stuttered inhale you took in. Saliva slowly accumulated in your mouth as you breathed her aromatic arousal in. It was like second nature the way you moved, surging forward and licking up her juices, trailing your tongue up the entirety of her slit with a moan.

You used your tongue to part her folds, exposing her stuttering entrance to you, it amused you to no end to see her this desperate.

Wanda Maximoff, the campuses notoriously known player has fallen for you. Even with her endless supply of girls to fuck she chose you. It doesn't sound all that romantic to an outsider, but to you, someone who knew Wanda wholly, you knew this was the best possible outcome.

Thoughts tumbled around your head as you worked out what to do next, you took a deep breath, and upon release you bit your lip as Wanda's back arched at the cool sensation.

"Y/N, detka, please stop teasing me..."

After a brief moment of silence you shocked her as you entered her with three fingers, there was no resistance either as she was slicked up.

Wanda rocked her hips in unison with your fingers thrusts, she was dripping down your palm in only a matter of seconds. Had you not had her feeling so euphoric she might've even been embarrassed, but she admittedly wasn't.

All she felt was bliss, and she expressed as such when she screamed your name aloud as you sucked her clit between your lips. You began softly nibbling the bundle of raging nerves to urge her release on. Wanda absolutely lost her mind, frantically thrusting off the bed to meet your fingers, which is something you'd usually control with a hand on her hip, but tonight you felt generous, her desperation was welcomed.

Her slick smeared across your lower face as you continued to shower her clit with attention as your fingers pace picked up. Wanda's tears and drool soaked through your pillowcases as she lost herself to the building pleasure inside.

"Is my precious little slut close?" You asked the question, but with the way her walls gripped you into a state of near stillness was already enough of an answer. Still, you wanted her reply, but she was a bit too lost in the pleasure so you slapped her thigh. "Answer me slut!"

Wanda mewled shakily, "Fuck, yes, 'm so close, please detka." You couldn't deny how much her breathless pleadings turned you on, it was so damn hot and you were consequently dripping.

"Go on then baby, let go for me like the whore we both know you are," you commanded this right above her clit, offering a subtle vibration that drove her up the wall. Her thighs tensed, and she gushed around your fingers as they curled within her just right, her back arched off the bed, and the two of you moaned in unison.

No amount of sex with Wanda would ever leave you bored, the sight of her with those hazy eyes and mouth agape as you continued to thrust into her was a sight worthy of the Louvre.

"You taste so good baby," At the sight of your glistening smirk, the brunette smiled wide, Wanda absolutely adored your cockier side.

"Come here please," she rasped, her hands lazily reached for you, and you obliged. Leaving love bites on her sweaty skin before you were kissing her languidly. Wanda sighed, "Perfect."

"Yeah?" You chuckled, effectively breaking the kiss to show her your amusement with a smile. Wanda nodded, her hands quickly fell to rest atop of your ass, and that's when she frowned.

So lost in the throes of pleasure she'd never gotten you out of your clothes. Her greatest joy is to feel your skin against hers, your warmth grounding her as she gives into pleasure, and it was taken away by her overtly needy nature.

"Take it off detka!" She commanded, her hands harshly gripped your ass cheeks, softly wincing as it caused her injured hands pain, but she ignored that ache because you moaned, she only continued to massage the covered skin.

"Now," the low, domineering grumble of her voice shook you, it felt like your wetness was seeping through your sleep shorts, and as you stood up you saw it did as her thigh glistened.

Wanda leaned up on her elbows, watching you with lust blown eyes as you hastily slid out of your bottoms. A raspy cackle came from her as you nearly fell flat on your face, "Careful love."

"Bite me," you grumbled as you slowly pulled the fabric from your body, in part because you wanted to tease her. “Oh sweetheart, I will.”

She threw her had back with laughter, her abs more defined as she tensed with each inhale. Your face was priceless, you might be topping right now, but she always had to remind you just how easily the script could be flipped.

Then she fell silent when she looked back at you, her chest rose unsteadily as the light of the moon casted over your bareness. Fuck, nobody would ever compare to you, you were the woman of her every fantasy. Her body and mind craved you in different ways, something that had never happened to her before you.

"Come on detka, I want to feel you up."

“Nope.” Wanda scowled as you told her she couldn't use her hands, you’d informed her of as you crawled up to hover her. She went to protest, but it died on her tongue as she felt your pert nipples brush over her hot skin. It became apparent that it didn't matter how she had you when she needed you this bad; more than a man stranded in a desert needed water.

"Then ride my face instead," she panted, clearly affected by the feel of your slicked cunt. She found herself feeling a bit too impatient to have to wait to have you another moment longer with your warmth all over her milky thigh.

She nearly melted into a puddle when she saw your concerned orbs staring into hers, "I don't want to hurt you Wan, maybe we wait for you to heal, and until then I'll tend to your needs."

"Y/N, I need you," she sternly stated, "I might combust if I can't taste you, please detka?!"

"Okay," you acquiesced easily, it wasn't like you weren't equally as desperate for the relief.

Wanda licked her lips once your cunt hovered over her mouth, as if she'd been served a five star Michelin meal. Traces of your slick befell her lips, and she breathed a sigh through her nose as she finally got a taste of you. In her expert opinion your divined essence exceeds such notorious perfection. Wagyu steak, and stuffed lobster could never compare here.

Now that you hovered over her you worried about her overall safety. This was like a godsend to the brunette, the one who's begged you for months to try this, but you always had an excuse. Primarily being the twin mattress.

You both always knew it was more than that, but you never had to voice that before. But as you knelt on your queen size mattress with the squeaky boxsprings you found you were still nervous. Riding her felt like an exhilarating idea, but you weren’t ever really one for an adrenaline rush. You liked to play it safe.

Wanda’s never been safe. You loved her for who she was, but who she was, was a mess. With that chaos though came new experiences. New, pleasure filled worlds. Taking your vanilla experience and leaving it in your past. Just to bring you to nirvana almost every night.

Obviously you could say no, but disappointing Wanda was the last thing you wanted to do. It also appeared disappointing to you as well.

You didn’t want to hurt her. You’d never forgive yourself. You knew she would.

"Don't be scared," she whispers against the skin of your tense thigh, "Just lower yourself onto my face and I'll make you feel so good." Wanda saw hesitation flicker in your eyes, and she smiled softly upwards. "Please detka."

Wanda sighed in defeat, "It's okay." She tapped your thigh tenderly, waving her metaphorical white flag so you didn't feel any pressure. That made you panic though, "No, I-I can do it."

"Only if you want to," Wanda reaffirmed. "I'd love for you to ride my face, using me for your pleasure, but I can eat you regardless. I'd never want you to do something you didn't want to." She looked deeply into your curious eyes, her honest disposition settled most of the doubt.

"I do want to," you whimpered, "Just, promise me you'll tell me if I'm too much, I—."

"None of that," Wanda tutted, "You'll never be too much of anything detka." Her arms looped around your thighs, and she grinned. "God, you smell so delicious," she groaned as the scent of your arousal increased as she tugged you down.

"Feel free to suffocate me darling," she teased with an attractive wink before she pulled you down the rest of the way and plunged her tongue right on in to your pulsing heat.

Wanda was dripping unendingly onto the mattress as you moaned, and took over almost instantly. She wanted to be in control, but she was far too thrilled to see your fears had faded with the pleasure she offered you to take it.

With every hurried thrust of your hips the tip of Wanda's nose would brush your clit, and you'd mewl, she felt like she was in a porno. It became apparent you were close, handling Wanda earlier had left you teetering. Your hips would still at random now, usually spurred on by a swish of her tongue. Her expertise left you immobilized by a blinding pleasure, it pooled low in your abdomen, you were at the edge.

Wanda's tongue slid from within you, she ran it up your slit, flicking over your clit teasingly. You pressed down, hopeful for more relief, and the brunette appeased you with a hum. The vibration sending you crashing into your orgasm hard. You'd instantly lost your balance, falling into the oak headboard with a deep moan as your slick trickled down her throat.

A deep growl of dissatisfaction left your lovers lips as you fell beside her on the mattress. She wasn't done with you, not even in the slightest. However, she knew neither of your bodies had much left to give after such a draining day.

Still, she found the strength to hold herself up with an elbow on either side of your head. You were so lost in the haze of your afterglow that you couldn’t even hear her. You saw a blurry mouth moving, but didn’t come to until you felt her barely pressing her pelvis into yours.

Wanda pleaded with crazy eyes, “Fuck, detka, can I try something?" You blinked up at her, trying to see through your bleary eyes as you were definitely still coming back down. "I just," she paused, unable to stop herself from kissing the pout that formed on your face. "I know you're tired, but can I rub our pussies together, please? I’ll be quick" Her eyes darkened as she saw the flicker of desire return to your eyes.

"Yes." Wanda smirked. "Such a smart girl, this will feel so damn good, I promise you detka."

Wanda pressed her cunt into yours with more force, you watched her mouth fall agape with rapt attention. She always looked so gorgeous when she was coming close. It turned you on to think that this had been a fantasy of hers. Just like the one you’d had floating in your mind.

“Shit,” you breathed, “Mommy please…”

Wanda’s hips stuttered, “Fuck,” she felt a gush of wetness on her thighs, your Freudian slip aroused her beyond normalcy. “You’re such a good girl,” she coo’d, “Letting your mommy use you likes this.” She sighed, “You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you mommy,” you beamed, genuinely flattered at her tenderness. You’d barely got the words out before her lips slammed into yours.

With her tongue down your throat you went mindless. Hips moving on autopilot against your lovers as you got closer to bliss. Wanda was meeting you with the same fervor. Her lips had moved to your throat now as she’d needed something to bite, her teeth sunk into the juncture between your throat and collarbone.

“Need to cum,” you choked out, “Mommy you feel so good, please, can I cum for you?”

Wanda’s breath hitched, she wasn’t used to it yet, but fuck, it was growing on her fast.

“Go on, be a good girl and cum with me,” she groaned, the vibration against your throat made you feel exponentially dizzy. “Mommy!”

“Oh shit,” she brokenly sobbed, “Mommy’s good girl,” her lips laid a trembling kiss over the bruising juncture, “So fucking beautiful…”

“Don’t stop,” you cried. She wheezed, “I won’t.”

The both of you cried from the overstimulation, but neither of you stopped as you lazily spread your wetnesses around. Wanda’s hot tongue soothed your new indents, the taste of copper telling her just how deeply she’d claimed you.

Her lips softened their intent, gentle kisses being left behind on your face. Feeling as your cheek shook beneath her lips as you tried to stifle a laugh. Then you lost your resolved and giggled as she continued subtly tickling you.

Wanda loved your laugh, so she kept it up for a few minutes before her tired arms gave out. Her body collapsed into yours, and she just spent the next five minutes breathing heavily against your neck. Her hair boxing her in, and leaving behind a sparing layer of condensation.

With your eyes closed, and body still you began to drift into a state of mid-sleep. Then you felt a not so gentle tug of your skin between teeth.

Your girlfriend was insatiable… Girlfriend?

Wanda leaned back up with reinvigorated strength. Her wrapped hand lay awkwardly against your throat as she began to ramble, “As soon as these bruises yellow I'm grabbing you by the throat and fucking you against the wall of our dorm." Her eyes were wild with lust, there was no doubt that she was being honest. "Gotta consummate the fact that you're mine."

You’re sure that confirms you’re girlfriends.

Your heart fluttered joyously. She was yours.

Arousal that lingered in your belly pulsated as her eyes filled with possession. You are hers. All she wants is to claim you wholly. "If I wasn't so tired I'd slip the harness on now and fuck you dumb." You felt your pussy throb, body lightly writhing and catching her attention as it jolted her numb pussy back to life. She was considering powering through, then she turned to check the time and saw the morning sun was filtering through the sides of the curtains.

Distorted, bright red lines flashed: 6:00AM.

On a Monday, both of your busiest school day.

Wanda chuckled tiredly against your shoulder, “This is why you don’t party on Sunday’s silly girl.” She turned back to face you after seeing the time. "Mr. Coulson is going to throw a fit."

"Oh shit, I can't miss another Biology lecture," you groaned in realization and the beauty on your chest laughed shortly. "Mrs. Potts will understand detka, I was her TA last semester, and I'll just tell her that I gave you the flu."

"Dishonesty is grounds for expulsion Wanda."

Wanda snorted, "Then let's hope we don't get caught." You frowned further, hand holding her wrapped one. "What if they tell on you?"

"They won't," she murmured with confidence. "They got their licks in too, if anything, the assholes probably found the fight arousing."

"I sure did," you breathlessly say, regretting it just as soon as her smirking face hovers yours, warm lips pressed into yours gently, starkly contradicting her tongues electrifying touch.

The kiss ends with a soft pop, Wanda gazes at you with sparkling eyes, and an adoring smile.

"You still shouldn't have done it," you remind her, and she merely shakes her head. "Listen close Y/N. I will never let anyone disrespect what I hold dear to my heart. Defending you against creeps is the easiest decision ever."

"Our future depends upon you graduating."

Wanda beams at your words. "Is this you accepting my proposal?" You giggled softly when her face fell as you shook your head.

"Conditionally," you decide. "If you want to marry me, then you have to show me that you're serious about our future. Less partying, no more other people, and no more violence."

Wanda sighs with perceptible conviction, "I promise you Y/N, there's no way in hell I'm ever watching you leave. We're endgame." Then after she watches understanding flash through your gaze she kisses your lips once more before burrowing into your chest.

"I'm all in then." Wanda's body relaxed as you followed your words with a kiss to her cheek.

Then in a blink she was fast asleep.

Just as you were about to fall asleep, drooping eyes trained on Wanda's beautiful face your phone dinged, and you picked it up, only to see your group chat with your sisters was active.

*Natasha, make it stop! My ears are bleeding*

*Yelena, turn on some music like I did every time you and Kate did this in HS and sleep.*

*You're lucky Mama's out of town,* Natasha wrote, directed at you, *Good problem solving skills, glad you're learning something in school, but please, leave sex for your dorm.*

*Tell Wanda to sleep with one eye open!*

Yelena's message wasn't as cordial, it was a clear threat, and enough to make you snort. Somehow Wanda remained asleep, soft snores blowing across your chest a direct reassurance.

You were thankful for that, the poor girl was wiped, and didn't need the embarrassment, you'd save that for the awkward breakfast.

*I love you guys. I’ll buy donuts, okay, bye.*

*2 dozen! Mostly maple bars, obviously! 👀*

*We love you too. (Cherry danish please) ❤️*

You smiled, shaking your head free of any surges of embarrassment. For now you’d decided to close your eyes, forget all the noise, and slip into a world of endless possibilities.

Snoring in tandem with your girlfriend.

Wanda Maximoff was your girlfriend.

If only teenage you could see you now. She’d be so excited, she’d likely faint. Then wake up hours later concussed, wearing a dopy smile with a thumbs up. You finally took the risk.

It paid off—you won the lottery.

——

9,198 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥹

[lizziesangelgirlblog]

siblings in marvel

[delulu-with-wandanat]

Natasha’s 15 year old shameless sibling has a crush on her girlfriend, Wanda.

Wanda: I’m 30 and I'm literally dating your sister-

Y/n, with a squeaky voice: You’RE 30?!

Wanda: Ya…

Y/n:

Y/n: Its okayy, no one has to know bb gworl…

Wanda: DOOONTT-

Natasha: DONT call her bby girl! She’s not your fuckin Spanish teacher-

Y/n: Hola- Hola como estas.

[atlasthegreatest]

Breaking the Chains / Natasha Romanoff x Brother!Male Reader

Which, the Avengers embark on a mission to dismantle a sinister facility—a male version of the Red Room, designed to turn young men into weapons. Natasha Romanoff leads the charge, determined to save her younger brother— Y/n, who has been trapped in this program for years.

Word count: 2191

Warnings: PTSD. Red Room.

A/n: This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it!

The facility was crumbling around them, fire and dust mixing into the heavy air. The sounds of gunfire and explosions echoed in the background, but Natasha Romanoff’s focus was singular. Her feet moved with purpose as she scanned the darkened hallway. She knew what to look for—the same signs she once wore on her face and carried in her posture.

In this mission, the Avengers were not after weapons or secrets. They were after people—boys who had been subjected to something eerily familiar to Natasha. A male counterpart to the Red Room, hidden deep in the underbelly of the world. They had lived in the shadows for years, unnoticed, until an intercepted transmission tipped the Avengers off to the existence of this twisted program.

She pushed through the shattered remnants of a metal door and stepped into a cold, dimly lit cell block. A dozen pairs of frightened eyes met hers, boys barely in their teens and men no older than twenty-five.

Natasha scanned each face until she found the one she had been looking for: Y/n.

He sat huddled in the far corner of the cell, knees drawn to his chest, body folded in on itself as if trying to disappear into the cracked concrete wall behind him. His clothes hung loosely from his thin frame, and his hands trembled as they gripped his knees.

“Hey,” Natasha whispered, kneeling in front of him.

At first, Y/n didn’t respond. The years of training had taught him to suppress everything—fear, trust, and hope. But when he finally lifted his gaze, recognition flickered in his eyes. Y/n knew her, though not personally. She had been the ghost story among the instructors. The Black Widow—traitor to the cause, the one who escaped.

“I’ve got you,” Natasha said gently, her gloved hand hovering over Y/n's but not touching, waiting for him to make the first move. “We’re getting you out of here.”

Y/n flinched slightly at the sound of her voice but didn’t pull away when she rested a hand lightly on his arm. Her touch was steady—grounding.

“It’s over,” she said, her voice low and sure, like an unbreakable promise. “No more orders. No more missions.”

Y/n's lips parted, but no words came out. It was hard to believe it was real after everything. Freedom was a foreign concept, a dream too fragile to trust. But Natasha didn’t rush him. She crouched there, keeping her voice steady and calm as the chaos raged behind her.

“I know it’s scary,” she admitted. “But you’re not alone anymore. I’m here, and so are the others.”

When he didn’t resist, Natasha helped him to his feet. Y/n was shaky, each step slow, as if his body had forgotten what it was like to move without orders directing his every action. Natasha kept a careful hold on her arm—not tight, just enough to remind him she was there.

Together, they made their way through the collapsing facility, the flickering lights casting erratic shadows on the walls. Outside, the Avengers had cleared the area, and a Quinjet waited, its ramp lowered. Steve Rogers gave a tight nod to Natasha as she guided Y/n aboard, but the others knew better than to approach.

Natasha’s expression warned them all: Give him space.

————————-

The Avengers’ compound was vast, bright, and open—everything the cold, sterile facility had not been. But for Y/n, it was too much. Too big, too noisy, too unfamiliar.

Y/n rarely left the room they had set up for him, and when he did, it was always with Natasha at his side. The others tried to welcome him gently—Bruce offered books, Steve always nodded with quiet reassurance, and even Tony kept his quips subdued. But it was Natasha who knew how to reach him, because she had been where he was.

She didn’t push. When the others asked too many questions, Natasha would step in, redirecting the conversation with a subtle ease. She became Y/n's anchor, a quiet, constant presence that didn’t demand anything from him.

At night, when the nightmares came—and they always did—Natasha was there. The first time Y/n woke up gasping, covered in cold sweat, he thought she might be angry at being disturbed. But instead, she sat on the edge of his bed, her voice calm and low.

“Breathe,” she whispered. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

When Y/n couldn’t sleep, she stayed up with him. Some nights, she talked about her own past, sharing bits and pieces she thought he might understand. Other nights, the two of them sat in silence, watching the night bleed into dawn.

She never asked him to talk about what happened—not until Y/n was ready.

————————-

It was weeks before Y/n said more than a few words at a time. The trauma ran deep, and trust was a hard-earned currency. But Natasha noticed the small changes. The way he started sitting with the others in the common room, though he always kept a little distance. The way his gaze softened when Sam told a joke or when Clint teased him about beating him at chess.

One afternoon, while sitting with Natasha on the balcony, Y/n surprised himself by speaking.

“They made us fight each other,” He said quietly, his voice brittle and uneven. “If you won, you got food. If you lost… you didn’t.”

Natasha didn’t flinch. She just nodded, her gaze steady. “I know.”

“They told us it made us stronger,” he added, bitterness creeping into his tone. “Made us perfect.”

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line. “They were wrong.”

For a moment, Y/n looked out over the horizon, the sky painted in hues of gold and pink. He felt the weight of her words settle in his chest—not just the words, but the way she said them, with the conviction of someone who knew exactly what he’d been through.

“You’re not what they made you,” Natasha said softly. “You’re more than that.”

Y/n swallowed hard, emotions swelling in his throat, but for the first time in years, he didn’t feel the need to shove them down. Natasha’s presence was a reminder that he didn’t have to carry everything alone.

————————-

Day by day, the Avengers helped Y/n find pieces of himself that he thought had been lost forever. Steve taught him how to cook—simple things, like pancakes and scrambled eggs. Sam dragged him into a movie marathon, making Y/n laugh for the first time in what felt like forever.

And Natasha? Natasha stayed by his side through all of it, giving him the space to heal at his own pace.

One evening, after a quiet dinner with the team, Y/n found yourself sitting beside Natasha on the couch, Clint sprawled out on the floor in front of them.

“See?” Natasha said, nudging Y/n's shoulder lightly. “They’re not so bad.”

Y/n gave a small, tentative smile. It felt strange on his face, but not unwelcome.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice soft but genuine. “They’re not.”

Natasha smiled too—gentle, patient, and proud. And for the first time in a long time, Y/n felt like maybe, just maybe, he belonged.

————————-

The Avengers became a rhythm—steady, sometimes chaotic, but reliable. Y/n was still learning how to navigate the whirl of personalities and noise, but Natasha was always a steady guide. She seemed to know exactly when to push and when to pull back, letting him stumble without ever letting him fall.

The nightmares didn’t stop, but Y/n got better at managing them. On nights when the darkness crept too close, he didn’t feel ashamed to knock softly on Natasha’s door. Sometimes, the two of them talked. Other times, Y/n sat quietly on the floor beside her bed until sleep returned. It didn’t matter—Natasha was patient, always patient.

But adjusting to life with the Avengers was harder than it looked from the outside. Even though they gave him space, their camaraderie felt foreign. Trusting them—really trusting them—was an uphill battle, but Natasha reassured him that it was okay to take his time.

“You don’t have to be anyone other than yourself,” she had said. “They’ll wait.”

————————-

It was Sam who cracked Y/n's defenses first, though it took him weeks of gentle persistence. He had a way of being both laid-back and direct, not giving him much room to overthink. One afternoon, Y/n found himself sitting across from him at the compound’s kitchen island, awkwardly holding a controller as he taught Y/n how to play some old-school racing game.

“Don’t worry,” Sam grinned. “I’ll go easy on you.”

He didn’t. Y/n lost every race, but he didn’t mind. For once, losing didn’t come with consequences. Sam’s laugh was loud and infectious, and before Y/n realized it, he found himself chuckling along.

“See?” Sam said, nudging his shoulder lightly. “You’ve got a sense of humor in there somewhere.”

It was a small moment, but it was the first time Y/n’d felt… normal.

————————-

Training sessions with Steve Rogers were a different kind of therapy. He never barked orders or pushed Y/n beyond his limits. Instead, he treated each session like a lesson in self-control—teaching him to use his skills in ways that didn’t make him feel like a weapon.

“Strength is more than just force,” Steve would say. “It’s about knowing when not to fight.”

At first, it was hard to fight the reflex to be perfect, to push through every ache and bruise just to meet some invisible standard. But Steve never expected perfection. If Y/n faltered, he’d just nod and say, “Good. Now let’s try that again.”

One day, after a sparring match, Y/n hesitated as Steve packed up the training mats. “Thanks,” he muttered, the word feeling foreign but genuine.

Steve gave him that easy, reassuring smile of his. “Anytime.”

————————-

It was during one of Tony’s infamous pizza nights that Y/n realized how far he’d come. The team gathered in the common room, laughing and teasing each other over slices of greasy pepperoni. Y/n sat between Natasha and Clint, feeling oddly at ease even though he hadn’t said much all night.

At some point, Tony tried to rope him into a debate about who the best James Bond was. Y/n blinked, unsure if he was joking or not.

“C’mon, kid,” Tony said, grinning. “Tell me you’ve got an opinion on this. You have to.”

Before he could answer, Natasha smirked. “He’s still deciding if he likes any of us, Stark. Don’t scare him off with your movie rants.”

The team burst out laughing, and to Y/n's surprise, he found himself grinning too. Not because he had to, but because it felt right.

Natasha glanced at her brother from the corner of her eye, her expression soft and knowing. She didn’t say anything, but her small smile told him she was proud—and she realized he was too.

Bonus chapter:

Not every day was easy. Some mornings, the weight of the past dragged Y/n down like lead in his chest. Y/n still flinched at unexpected noises. Some nights, the nightmares left him breathless and paralyzed. But with Natasha, it didn’t feel like he had to face it alone.

One particularly bad night, Y/n couldn’t keep it all bottled up anymore. It was late—well past midnight—when the panic took over. Y/n found himself in Natasha’s room, pacing back and forth as he tried to control his breathing.

“They made us hurt each other,” he whispered, the words tumbling out faster than he could stop them. “Every day, every mission. If you hesitated, they punished you. They—”

Y/n's voice cracked, and he clenched his fists, furious at himself for breaking down. But Natasha didn’t look at Y/n with pity. She stepped closer, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

“They wanted you to believe it was the only way,” Natasha said softly. “But it’s not.”

The anger, the shame, the guilt—it all poured out in a rush, and Natasha let him feel every bit of it without judgment. When Y/n finally sank to the floor, exhausted and drained, she sat beside him.

“You’re not what they made you,” she repeated gently. “And you’re not alone.”

————————-

Months passed, and slowly, Y/n found himself carving out a place among the Avengers. It wasn’t perfect—he still had hard days, and some wounds ran too deep to ever fully heal. But he was learning that it was okay to not be okay all the time.

Natasha stayed close, always ready to catch him if he stumbled. But she also gave him room to grow. Y/n started spending more time with the others—training with Steve, playing video games with Sam, and even laughing at Tony’s terrible jokes. They weren’t just teammates anymore. They were friends.

And one day, as the team gathered for another chaotic dinner, Y/n realized something that hit him harder than any punch he’d ever taken: he wasn’t just surviving. He was living.

The thought was strange, almost surreal, but when Natasha met his gaze across the table and gave him a subtle, knowing nod, Y/n knew it was real.

He was home.

Any grammar mistakes will be fixed later

[m0nsterqzzz]

✪ In This Universe ✪

paring: Natasha Romanoff, Yelena Belova, and their older brother

summary: when Yelena accidently gets hurt, her older brother is there to help her have fun again. and Natasha is just laughing at her brother.

warnings: i don't think any, it's just fluff/comfort

a/n: got this idea cuz last year my class went to the younger kids school and this little girl came up to me and pulled a children's makeup kit, and asked to do my makeup so i could, and i quote, "be a pretty boy" as i trans man, I wanted to cry but like, anyway. I wore that makeup look for the entire day. also, nicknames are ones my family members call me and they are definitely my favorites that people call me. kind of a weird ending but i just wanted to remind yall the pain that is Natasha knew her family was fake the entire time she was there and had to live with that.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

With one sister on your shoulders and the other cradled in your arms, you walk away from the playground and back to your house. Yelena hit her head on a tree, and after comforting her, you put Natalia on your shoulders and picked up the little blonde to take them home. It’s easy to hold the light girls, so you do the entire neighborhood block walk.

Your mother sees you guys from the kitchen window where she’s washing dishes, and signs before walking outside and taking Yelena from your arms. The little girl is always getting hurt, which a lot of people think proves your mother and father aren’t good parents. They aren’t wrong, but you got kicked out of your old middle school for fighting with other kids who talked crap way too often. It wasn’t about defending your reputation, but your younger sisters. Your reputation is long gone, being known as Strings in hydra due to your ability to control minds. But Natalia and Yelena, they shouldn’t have to deal with that yet. Natalia already has, and now that you guys can live in semi peace in Ohio you are determined to let her keep that peace.

You lean down a bit so Natasha doesn’t hit her head as you walk through the front door, following your mother to the living room and setting the blue haired girl down on the couch and making your way to the kitchen for an ice pack.

“What happened? Your mom asks you. “We were playing tag and she didn't notice the tree in front of her because she was focused on me behind her.” You say, and the older woman sighs and orders, “you need to start taking better care of your sisters alright?” you quietly scoff and mumble, “Right.” Being the oldest sibling and already in your teen years, it is your duty to watch over your younger sisters all day while your dad is at work and your mom simply does whatever she feels like doing that afternoon. You love the girls, but sometimes you wish you could go off and have fun like all the kids in your school get to do. But you would never complain, just out of fear that Melina- your mother- would send you back to Hydra to be locked up in a cell once again to only be used when they need you.

Yelena holds the ice pack to her own forehead and gives you a small smile. “I'm okay солнечный свет.” Sunshine. That's what the small blonde said in Russian. When you and Natasha first moved to Ohio- Yelena coming soon after that- the little girl's were the only ones who could get through your stone cold heart. That earned you the title, “Sunshine” in Russian from them, and they became known to you as: “Пчелка” and “конфеты”.

“little bee” and “candy”

Yelena is little bee, simply for the fact that she loves bees. and Natalia is candy because she loves to dye her hair different colors. It's basically just a shortened version of the nickname cotton candy.

Your mom goes back to the dishes, and you pick each little girl up in each arm and carry them to your room over your shoulders like they're sacks of potatoes. This earns you loud laughs from the children as you throw them down on your bed.

The girls have lots of their own personal stuff in your room, because they spend most nights in your bed, making you read them stories and watch cartoons with them. You're always happy to spend time with your siblings, and you try your best not to let the little voice inside your head saying, “they're not your real family and they never will be” take over. 

Both girls get comfortable on your bed, and you open a book as you lay in the middle of them. Suddenly Yelena's little voice speaks up, “солнечный свет?” you hum in acknowledgement and glance up from the book for a quick second. “Can I do your makeup?” Her question catches you a bit off guard and you giggle. “Mine? Why mine?” She shrugs. “Because you let me run into a tree.” She states casually, and Natalia chuckles at the gaslighting. The little girl is learning so much from her two older siblings.

You sigh, sending her a smile and putting your book down. “Of course you can little bee. Go grab your stuff.” She runs to her own room with a giggle, and comes back with a sparkly pink children's makeup kit. Your mother got it for her a bit ago, but Yelenas never really been too interested in stuff like makeup- unless she's putting it on you of course. 

She settles into Natalia's lap, and opens the kit. “So big brother, what color eyeshadow do you want?” The little girl asks, and you quickly reply with an answer you know she'll love, “The brightest pink you got kid.” Natalia helps her scan through the colors until they eventually settle on one. She uses the tiny brush to begin putting it on your now closed eyelids, and you try your best to not flinch away every time she presses the brush too hard into your eyes.

She then moves onto blush, and you peak one eye open when Natalia giggles. Yelena is pushing the makeup brush into a shimmery blue, and then draws a small circle on the middle of both your cheeks. She grabs one of the lipstick tubes, and you're just praying it isn't the one she used to draw on a tree the other day.

Natalia won't stop laughing the whole time, you open your eyes to glare at the eleven year old for a few seconds which only makes her laugh harder. 

A few minutes later, Yelena says, “And…….done! you look so pretty солнечный свет!” She hands you a small mirror, and you take a moment to look at yourself in the blurry plastic. You have bright pink on your eyelids that messily goes onto your eyebrows, small blue circles acting as blush like an old timey doll, purple lipstick that barely covers your lip and goes onto the rest of your face, and a random red blob on your chin. 

Even with this terrible makeup, you smile at your little sister. “I look amazing Lena!” you half lie, because it truly does look good because it was done by your sister. Anything she could do in life would be amazing to you.

Her smile grows, and you can't help but burst into laughter at the way Natalia is looking at you. Her eyes are scanning your face, and she doesn't say anything for a moment before she begins laughing too. Yelena doesn't seem to care, as she presses a kiss to your nose and giggles when you scrunch it.

Your mother calls for Yelena to come pick up her toys in the living room, and there is silence between you and Natalia until she mumbles, “Why do you love us? We're not your real siblings.” There is no harshness to her words, just curiosity. “Because it's real in another universe. And it's real to her.” She looks up at you confused, so you elaborate, “The multiverse. In another universe, we are all blood related. None of our pasts ever happened. No red room, no hydra, no Dreykov. Just us.” She smiles, a bit of hope in her eyes. “Is the multiverse real солнечный свет?” She asks. You sigh. “I don't know Tasha…..but if it was….would you rather spend an eternity searching for the perfect one, or stay in this one where we have okay lifes?” She takes a moment to think about it before she nods, “I'd rather stay here. Lena's happy, I'm pretty happy, and I think you're happy.” You chuckle and press a kiss to her forehead. “I'm very happy candy…..so happy.”

[togrowoldinv]

One day I’ll write a fic I’ve had in my mind about mama Natasha watching her kids play high school basketball and being absolutely way too into the game

[katethewriter]

What do you think Clint’s letter was like in “last wish” and his reaction to her death

Oooooo I actually thought a lot about this while building the story, sooooo..........

here's a little drabble in bullet format :)

Clint's Letter

words: 850

If you haven't read Last Wish, you should probably read it first :)

Clint tried to call you immediately after getting off the phone with Wanda.

When you didn't answer, worry gnawed at his stomach.

He immediately grabbed his keys.

He’s almost there when Bruce calls and tells him to come to the compound.

When he got there, Clint saw Nat sitting in the common area with her head in her hands.

He was actually happy to see her for like 0.0001 second before he realized she was crying...

crying like she did when Wanda was dusted

His heart falls to his stomach. He’s too scared to ask.

Bruce enters with a very broken Wanda lingering in the doorway.

“Where is Y/n?”

No one speaks. The two women only cry harder at the sound of your name.

“Where is my sister?!?!”

Bruce is the one to answer him, "she brought Nat back.”

"How?"

The green gentle giant looks up regretfully, "she traded herself."

Clint turns to the widow.

All she can say between sobs is “I’m sorry.” She repeats it over and over again. "I'm so sorry."

He shakes his head in disbelief, “no.”

He didn't want to believe it. You wouldn't leave him. You wouldn't leave your family.

Would you?

But here Nat is, and Clint knows the constant, excruciating pain you have felt since you came back with the soul stone.

Pain tears through his body as the reality of the situation sinks in.

You're gone.

His baby sister, his teammate, his partner at game night, his best friend, all gone.

As quick as it came, the pain melted in unfiltered rage. He turns to Wanda standing in the doorway,

and the screaming begins...

"YOU DID THIS!"

"You resented her from the moment you came back!"

"What did you say to her?!"

"SHE LOVED YOU, and you hated her!"

"HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO HER?"

"She did this for you! YOU MADE HER DO THIS!!!"

"ARE YOU HAPPY NOW!?!?!"

Bruce has to grab him before he does something he can't take back.

"If I ever see you again-"

Bruce drags him out of the room to cool off.

Once they're alone in the conference room, Clint collapses onto the floor. Lying on his back, he stairs up at the ceiling.

Grief overcomes him, and he sobs, crying your name every so often.

Eventually, he works up the courage to go home with your unopened letter shoved in his pocket.

He refuses to read it.

Reading it means accepting them as your final words, and he's not ready to do that.

He wants to destroy the letter, but you wrote it for him. It's the last thing you'll ever write for him.

So, he tosses it in a drawer in his bedroom and leaves it there.

... until the day Nat shows up on his doorstep looking for a place to stay.

She tells him about the fight, about the memory Wanda shared, about the guilt and pain on your face when Wanda blamed you for Natasha's death.

How nothing is worse than the moment Wanda said she'd trade you for Nat.

She tells him about your letter to her. How she's trying to honor your wishes by forgiving the witch, but she's not sure she can.

Clint's anger returns, but more so, does the pain.

The regret of knowing you were hurting so much, and there was nothing he could have done to stop it.

That night, he finally opens your letter.

There are so many "I'm sorry"s.

Sorry for leaving him. Sorry for not being strong enough. Sorry for not telling him your plans. Sorry for not saying a proper goodbye.

There are equally as many "thank you"s.

Thank you for being my big brother. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for always being there when you needed him.

Then you make a request.

You ask him not to blame Wanda. You love her deeply, and you made this decision, not her.

You ask him to look after your girls. You don't want them to be alone. You want them to be happy together. You plead for him to help them get through this.

You end with an "I love you" and "until we meet again"

Clint cries that night..... and for several nights after that.

but he makes a promise to do as you ask.

He starts with Natasha, building her back up while she stays with him. He can't fill the hole that's missing, but he can help her learn to live with it.

Several times he tries convincing her to reach out to Wanda, but every time, she says that she is not ready yet. He respects that.

Eventually, he works up the courage to check on Wanda himself.

It's not easy, but she has to check that she's ok. He promised.

When he learns of her desperate plans, he runs home to get Nat. She's the only one that can pull Wanda out of this.

He's the one to finally convince her to go back to the house.

He's the one to bring them back together.

Now, for the really hard part:

the healing,

and he'll help them through that too.

[inkblot-inc]

Fury and Hill come to realize pretty quickly that their orders mean basically nothing to Jaws. There’s nothing they can threaten jaws with either to get them to comply. But simply asking Natasha or Wanda if they could get Jaws to do it will always get them results. Jaws might be dramatic and grumble a bit but they would do it. That’s why 95% of Jaws’ missions have Natasha or Wanda on the team as well.

mhm precisely

There's not much you can do to intimidate Jaws into doing something they don't plan on doing themselves.

It took two times when Jaws was finally able to go on missions for them to be like, "Well this is gonna be an issue."

You had an instance where Jaws is just beating a target till their two inches from death for information even though they're a public figure and their instructions were to incapacitate him and bring him in for questioning.

The thing is: Jaws is efficient at getting the job done, it's the specifics of what they have to do that they pass over. "Let's skip the song and dance. I can get the answers you want right now, gimme five minutes."

Jaws works best in strike missions or those with high threat level since they get shit done. Jaws definitely has to be with Natasha or Wanda for something like and intelligence or recon mission though. Again, you wanna guarantee Jaws will listen? Bring Natasha and/or Wanda *shrugs*

[scarlethexelove]

Growing A Family

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Milf!Reader

Word Count: 1451

Warnings: Smut, Intersex!Natasha, P in V, Nat really wants a baby, a bit of a breeding kink, Belly bulge, kitchen sex, Unprotected sex obviously, maybe other things.

Pt 2, Pt 3, Pt 4

A/n: Been sitting on this idea for a while. Just Nat being cute and deserving a family. This is just nice and cute and soft. Did I mention Nat is adorable.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

Your soft hums fill Natasha’s ears as she enters the kitchen. She leans against the door frame admiring your form as you clean up. Your jeans hugging your hips perfectly, your plush thighs, and how they accentuating your ass deliciously. You haven’t even noticed her return as your mind stays focused on the task in front of you. Nat pushes herself off the frame and makes her way over to you. She tightly grips your hips as she presses her front against your back. You gasp in surprise but relax in her hold. “Mmm your ass looks delicious in these jeans.” Nat kisses your shoulder as she pulls you impossibly close. “Thank you baby.” You giggle as a blush spreads across your cheeks. 

Nat has just returned from dropping off your daughter at Yelena’s place wanting to give you a break and spend some quality time together. Setting her plan in motion. Her lips trail to your neck nipping at the skin as her hands slide up under shirt cupping your clothed breast. “Natty.” You try to swat her away but the moan you let out as she sucks harshly on your pulse point has you faltering. “Have a baby with me.” She whispers in your ear as she pulls your bra down causing your breast to spill out giving her access to squeeze them. 

A whimper falls from your lips but you try to compose yourself. “N-Natty. We talked about t-this.” You stutter slightly. You two have had this conversation before, no kids until she retires. You’ve been a single parent before and said you wouldn’t add another child to your family if you had to do it again. Nat understood this and accepted your conditions. She wasn’t ready to give up that life before but now she was ready. She wanted to settle down with you and raise a family together. She loves your daughter as if she was her own and wanted nothing more than to give her a sibling. 

“I had a meeting with Fury this morning.” Nat mumbles against the skin of your shoulder. You give her a hum, encouraging her to continue knowing she is leading this somewhere. “I’m done detka. No more missions, no more being gone for weeks on end. I want to be here with you, with Elizabeth, to grow our family. He offered for me to train recruits as needed, so I’ll only have to be there a couple days a week.” She kisses your shoulder softly as she speaks and softly massages your breast. You try to turn around in her hold, but she holds you tighter, pushing you further, pinning you between her body and the counter. 

“I’m going to put a baby in you.” Nat bites down on your neck. You can’t help the moan that slips past your lips wanting nothing more than to feel your wife filling you up. You can feel her already hardened cock pressing against your ass. “Please.” You whimper. One of Nat’s arms wraps around you tightly as the other moves down. Her fingers find the button to your pants and undo them, the zipper following soon after. Her fingers hook into the waistband of both your jeans and panties as she pulls them down. You help shimmy them down until they are around your knees. 

Nat then moves that hand between your bodies, pushing her sweatpants and boxers down to her thighs. She nips and sucks at the skin of your neck and shoulders. Her cock slaps against your ass before she humps you slightly. Her cock already getting coated in your arousal as she does so. “Fuck printsessa you're so wet for me already.” You nod. “Please Natty want you to fill me.” Nat groans. “Oh detka I’m going to keep filling you until you're pregnant with my baby.” She lines her member up with your entrance slowly pushing into you. 

When the head of her cock fully presses in, Nat moves her hands back cupping your breast in each hand. She tweaks your nipples the further she presses into you. Both of you moan at the feeling of her filling you up. “Always so tight for me printsessa no matter how many times I fuck you.” Your walls deliciously squeezing her the further she pushes in until she is fully sheathed inside of you. You let out a gasp at the feeling of being so full. 

Nat lets you get used to her size as she continues to massage your breast. “Fuck I can’t wait to see these grow. Your belly swollen with my baby. You will look so fucking hot.” Nat mumbles against your skin. You nod along with her words. “F-fuck, please Natty want it so bad.” You start pressing back into her letting her know that she can move. She starts to slowly pull out before pushing back in. Her thrust starts off at a slower pace as she builds up speed. You let out small gasps and whines as her pace builds. 

You let your head fall to the side giving Nat more access. One of your hands moves up and behind you as you lace your fingers through Nat’s hair as she litters marks on your skin. Her thrust finds a steady pace as her cock plunges into your hole. Your walls are sucking her in with every thrust of her hips. Your moans grow louder as they bounce off the walls of the kitchen. Your body is still pressed against the counter as Nat holds you up. “So good.” You slur your words as the pleasure courses through you. Your grip on Nat’s hair tightens, causing the woman to moan and bite down harder on your skin. 

As Nat thrusts into you, you press your body back into hers, matching her pace. Her cock reached depths that you didn’t know where possible. One of Nat’s hands slides down your stomach until she feels how her cock fills you up. With every thrust pressing lightly into her hand has her moaning loudly in your ear. She presses down on the spot causing a gush of arousal and your mouth to hang open in a silent scream. “Feel how deep I’m inside you. My big cock filling your tiny little hole to the brim.” You nod and moan. “Y-Yes, fuck.” She smirks. 

The closer you grow to your release, your walls squeeze and suck Nat in. Her thrust are starting to become more erratic as she chases her high. She presses down harder on your abdomen, causing your grip on her hair to tighten her scalp, burning with a mix of pleasure and pain. You don’t know how it is possible as her thrust speeds up. Your orgasm is quickly approaching, and so is Nats. “Mmm wanna cum.” You whine already teetering on the edge. Nat’s thrust are sloppy and you can feel her cock twitching inside of you. “Hold it printsessa.” She murmurs in your ear. 

It takes everything in you to comply with her words. You're so close to letting go that you don’t know how it hasn’t washed over you yet. Nat keeps thrusting as your walls clamp around her, desperate for release. It doesn’t take long before Nat is also on the edge. “Cum detka.” She presses down again on where her cock fills you causing you to let out a scream of pleasure. The pressure causes you to release all over her cock. Your whole body trembling in her hold as the powerful orgasm washes over you. Her hips stutter at the same time as she releases inside of you. She paints your walls white with her cum, filling you even fuller than you already were. She groans as your walls milk her dry. Nat ruts into you to prolong both of your orgasms. She slowly comes to a stop when you whimper a bit from how sensitive you are. She doesn’t pull out wanting to keep her cum inside of you for as long as possible. 

“Are you okay detka?” Nat asks as she holds you gently in her arms, keeping you upright as your legs shake. You hum as your head falls back on her shoulder and you relax back into her. She peppers you with soft kisses as you both calm down. “I love you.” You mumble tiredly. Nat smiles. “I love you to printsessa.” 

A peaceful bliss washes over you as your mind wanders to the future. Growing your family with the woman that you love seems to come at the perfect time. A new journey for you to take together, but you're both excited for it. To finally have all that you could have ever wanted with the perfect woman.

[just-aake]

Who Would Sit at Your Grave the Longest?

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Who would ever mourn the life of a trained spy and assassin?

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, violence, mention of death, scenes from Marvel movies, multiple time skips

Words: 11,010

Red Room, Unknown — 2002

“If you passed away, who would sit at your grave the longest?”

It was a strange question, posed by one of the girls in the Red Room. The answers from the others are what one would expect – mom, dad, siblings, friends. 

People they remembered from their lives before. 

People who loved them.

With so many choices, it was difficult for some to decide who would fill that position.

Natasha, however, didn’t need any time to consider her answer.

She raises the gun in her hand and fires multiple shots at the practice target, each one hitting a fatal area. After the last bullet, she removes the empty magazine with practiced ease, reloads the gun, and aims at the target once again.

“Who would sit at her grave the longest?”

Her grip wavers slightly at the thought, but Natasha takes a short, steadying breath before steeling herself. 

Consecutive shots ring out in the room, hitting the target with perfect precision and demonstrating why she is one of the most feared assassins in the world.

For Natasha, the answer was clear.

“No one.” 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Abandoned Building, Budapest - 2003

With a tired sigh, Natasha leans her head against the wall of the abandoned building. She lifts her hand from her side, grimacing at the sight of blood covering her palm.

With a slight wince, she presses it against the wound again and glances at the person sitting across from her. 

His head hangs limply against his chest, his own hand pressing against a wound on his stomach. If not for his shallow breathing, Natasha would have thought he was already dead.

Taking a deep breath, she nudges him with her boot. “Hey, Barton, you still with me?”

He stirs slightly at her words, becoming more alert, and chuckles softly. “I knew you had a heart, Romanoff.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at his comment, turning her gaze to the distance, searching for any sign of backup from his organization. 

Clint Barton had been the first to see something different in her—something better—and had offered her a way out of her previous life. 

Now, the one person who might actually care about her existence was dying right in front of her.

A coughing fit seizes Clint at that moment, and a trickle of blood escapes his lips.

“If your people don’t arrive here soon—”

Before she could finish, the sound of an engine fills the air as a quinjet lands nearby, kicking up a whirl of dust. 

Spotting the SHIELD logo, Natasha quickly stands, grunting as she pulls Clint up and slings his arm over her shoulder, dragging him toward the plane.

“Over here!” she shouts to the disembarking crew.

The agents at the front eye her warily, cautiously raising their weapons until they recognize Barton and realize his condition. They quickly rushed to help, taking her place and carrying him onto the quinjet.

Natasha shuffles forward slowly, keeping a close eye on them to ensure they’re handling him carefully.

Suddenly, a hand brushes her side, startling her. Instinctively, she grips the wrist and yanks it away, only to find herself locking eyes with you, surprise evident on your face.

Her glare is sharp, a silent warning, but you furrow your brows and pull your hand free, undeterred by her reaction. 

“You’re injured too,” you point out, trying to examine the wound on her side.

“I’m fine,” Natasha grits out, swallowing hard against the pain. “You should be taking care of Agent Barton.” 

She tries to sidestep you, but her strength falters as the adrenaline starts to fade, and she stumbles. Bracing herself for a hard landing, she’s surprised when a pair of arms catches her before she can fall.

Leaning her head on your shoulder, Natasha takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself and shake off the wave of dizziness.

“He has enough people,” you say firmly, your voice resolute. “I can focus on taking care of you.”

With that, you adjust her gently in your arms and start guiding her toward the quinjet.

“Come on, you’re not dying today.”

You say it with such certainty and determination that Natasha can’t help but believe you.

As you walk, she glances at the side of your face, her curiosity piqued.

“How strange,” Natasha muses to herself, “to have found another person who seems to care about her existence.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Stark Mansion, Malibu - 2010

After pretending to be impressed by Stark’s demonstration of the Iron Man armored glove and its repulsor beam, Natasha quietly slips away as Miss Potts confronts him for his reckless behavior.

At the private bar, Natasha prepares more drinks, anticipating Tony’s inevitable request for another round.

“This is quite the birthday party,” a voice comments from behind.

Natasha turns her head to find you leaning casually on the opposite side of the bar countertop, giving her a friendly smile. 

Since her initial encounter with you after joining SHIELD, Natasha hasn’t had the opportunity to work with you again, only spotting you in passing until now. 

She raises a questioning brow at you, curious about your presence and wondering how she missed you being part of the team for this mission.

“It seems you’ve gained Mr. Stark’s trust pretty well,” you remark, referring to her little performance earlier.

Returning to her task, Natasha responds as she continues to pour the drinks. 

“It’s not hard. He’s a textbook narcissist.” 

A loud clatter erupts from the other room and interrupts the conversation, prompting both of you to look at the sound in alertness.  

Tony picks himself up from where he stumbled into the DJ booth, then throws his arms up in the air with a cheer, eliciting an excited response from the crowd.

Spotting how he leans heavily on the table for support, Natasha shakes her head and continues her observations.

“His condition is worsening, though. He’ll need something to take the edge off soon.”

From the corner of her eyes, Natasha notices your expression become contemplative as you tilt your head and observe her curiously. 

“What?” she asks.

“Nothing,” you reply with a small shake of your head. “It’s just nice of you to worry about your new friend.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at that. 

Tony Stark is just a potential candidate for the Avenger Initiative that she’s been assigned to assess. From what she’s seen, he cares less about being her friend than she does.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Natasha asserts, turning around with the tray of finished drinks.

You smoothly pluck a glass from the tray before Natasha can stop you and sip it nonchalantly, unbothered by her glare. Still, Natasha can’t help but smirk slightly, amused by your bold action. 

Setting the empty glass down, you glance at Tony, who is still playing to the crowd.

“No harm in building genuine friendships,” you comment before nodding at the billionaire. 

“Anyway, lucky for him, Fury agrees. He wants to meet with Mr. Stark soon,” you reveal.

Natasha’s brows knit together in confusion.

“Fury sent you just to tell me that?” 

You turn your gaze back to her, a small grin tugging at the corner of your lips as you push yourself off the counter. 

“Me coming here was more of a personal choice.”

Her eyes narrow in suspicion, still puzzled by your answer.

“Why would you do that?” 

With a light chuckle, you meet her gaze, a slight smirk playing on your lips. 

“Maybe I just wanted to see the legendary Black Widow in action,” you admit, your tone teasing, before turning to walk away.

For a moment, Natasha is left stunned, her mind racing to make sense of your reasoning. But as you disappear from view, a sudden sensation tightens in her chest. She quickly sets the tray down and moves around the counter, her instincts urging her to follow you. 

Just as she takes a step forward, a deafening crash reverberates through the building. 

Whirling toward the source of the noise, Natasha’s eyes widen as she spots Tony, now clad in his Iron Man armor, locked in a fierce struggle with one of his other mech suits.

Natasha groans, rolling her eyes as she braces herself to clean up yet another one of Stark’s infamous messes. 

She wonders how you could think this man could ever be among those she’d considered a friend.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Stark Tower, New York City - 2012

With the portal closed and the battle over, Natasha and the other newly assembled Avengers gather on the top floor of the Stark Tower to complete the final task of apprehending Loki.

“Alright, get him on his feet,” Tony says, gesturing at the defeated god sprawled on the floor. His Iron Man suit begins to disengage from his body as he walks away. 

“Oh, and by the way, feel free to clean up,” he remarks to the others, waving at the destroyed room left in the aftermath of the battle. 

Natasha rolls her eyes at his words before focusing on the piece of metal in her hands. She taps Loki’s scepter gently against her palm and asks, “So, who gets the magic wand?”

Standing near the shelves filled with various bottles of alcohol, Clint retrieves two glass cups and answers, “Strike team’s coming to secure it.”

As he finishes speaking, the strike team steps out of the elevator, carrying a large case. 

“We can take that,” an agent offers, heading towards her.

“By all means,” Natasha replies, handing it to them and walking toward Clint. Out of the corner of her eyes, she notices one of the agents examining the staff’s point with their hand. 

“Careful with that thing,” she warns.

Clint nods in agreement as he hands her a glass, “Unless you want your mind erased, and not the fun way.”

As they both turn around toward the bar, the cups are taken from their hands.

“And I’ll take these,” you declare, placing them on the counter. 

“Medical team is also here,” you announce with a smirk, placing your hands on your hips. “Which means the agent with blood dripping from their head should have a seat.”

Natasha and Clint exchange glances to see who you’re referring to.

“Looks like you’re going first,” Clint declares happily, patting Natasha on her shoulder and stepping around you–not before sneakily taking back his cup. 

When Natasha doesn’t move, you cross your arms and tilt your head at her with a raised brow. 

“Well, are you going to sit, or do I need to wait until you fall on me again?”

Natasha huffs in amusement at the reminder before taking a seat on the barstool, giving you space to come closer. 

Stepping forward, you place yourself between her legs and gently brush back her hair as you examine her forehead. 

“Doesn’t look like you’ll need stitches, so that’s good,” you comment.

Natasha clicks her tongue in mock disappointment. 

“No scar? That’s a shame.”

Your lips twitch upward slightly at her words, and Natasha grins proudly, knowing she almost made you smile. 

As you clean her wound, your hands move delicately across her skin, treating her with the utmost care.

Noticing your closeness, Natasha takes a moment to observe you, intrigued at how comfortable you are around her. She was so absorbed in watching you that she almost missed your next words. 

“You all make a good team.”

At the mention of the others, Natasha glances over at them across the room, talking and jostling each other in a friendly fashion. 

It’s admittedly an odd bunch that Fury managed to assemble: a demi-god, a super soldier, a billionaire tech genius, a scientist with an angry alter ego, and a couple of master assassins.

“Not what I imagined, but surprisingly, it turned out okay,” Natasha admits. 

After finishing the bandages, your hand drifts from her hair to gently cup her face, lifting it to meet your eyes. 

“You came together, trusted each other, and had each other’s backs—all within just a few days,” you say, your voice steady with conviction. “That’s more than just okay.”

You give her a soft smile, tilting your head lightly. 

“It’s actually pretty incredible…and so are you.”

Natasha’s eyes widen at your words, leaving her speechless.

A familiar warmth stirs in her chest, similar to the sensation she felt the last time she met you—a subtle yet undeniable pull towards you. 

The intensity of your gaze draws her in, making her feel connected to you in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

Her fingers fidget in her lap as she considers bridging the small gap between you. She raises her hand hesitantly, about to reach out—

“Romanoff!” Tony calls, causing Natasha to withdraw her hand and turn her head, inadvertently making your hand fall from her face, much to her disappointment.

He and the others are gathered by the elevator, looking in her direction. Tony waves his hand in a hurried gesture.

“Hurry it up with the doctor-patient roleplay! The shawarma’s going to get cold.”

Natasha glares at him for the interruption before returning her attention to you. 

“Shawarma?” you ask with a questioning tilt of your head.

She shakes her head exasperatedly. 

“I don’t know. Tony wants to try it.”

You hum in understanding and take a step back. 

“Well, that bandage should be fine for now, but you’ll need a more thorough check-up when you return.”

Natasha leans forward slightly, a small smirk playing on her lips as she teases, “By you?”

You meet her smirk with an amused smile. “We’ll see.”

Accepting that she won’t get a definitive answer, Natasha nods and stands. As she’s about to pass by you, a thought crosses her mind, and she pauses beside you.

“What about you?” she asks.

You look up from where you’re packing your things. “What about me?”

Natasha huffs lightly at your evasiveness, ready to respond, but she hesitates. Her usual confidence falters, and uncertainty flickers in her eyes for a brief moment as they meet yours. 

After everything she’s been through, Natasha is still unsure whether she deserves to feel this way about someone—to want to not feel alone.

Noticing her hesitation, your expression softens, and you offer an understanding smile. With a gentle push on her back, you urge her forward.

“Go, you deserve to celebrate this win with your team,” you say, your voice calm and encouraging.

Before Natasha can reply, Tony calls out again. 

“The elevator’s going to leave without you, Romanoff,” he warns. 

You give her an encouraging nod, and with a light sigh, she makes her way to the elevator, where the others are already waiting inside.

Tony leans casually against the elevator doors, arms crossed and a teasing grin on his face. 

Before he can make a comment, Natasha gives him a shove, pushing him inside, and quickly presses the button. As the doors close, she catches one last glimpse of your little wave at her before you disappear from view.

Reflecting on your words, Natasha glances around at the people beside her. Surrounded by her new teammates, she begins to realize that maybe, she’s not so alone anymore, after all.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

National Mall, Washington, D.C. – 2014

Natasha lets go of the back of Steve’s neck, breaking the kiss, and turns around casually on the escalator. With their fake display of affection, Rumlow and the other SHIELD agents do not spare them a glance as they search the mall.

She steps off the escalator smoothly and glances slightly over her shoulder at the super soldier. 

“You still uncomfortable?”

Steve clears his throat lightly, trying to regain his composure. 

“It’s not exactly the word I would use.”

The two walk calmly until they reach the path leading to the underground parking garage. As they pass through the doors, Natasha notices Steve’s awkward silence and decides to tease him a little.

“Don’t tell me you’re still flustered from that kiss, Rogers?”

Steve sighs at her teasing, “No, I just wasn’t expecting–”

As they round a corner, Natasha and Steve abruptly come to a stop, finding themselves face-to-face with a SHIELD agent.

He eyes them suspiciously, his hand moving toward his walkie-talkie. 

Reacting swiftly, Steve tackles him before he can alert the others, and the two engage in a fierce fistfight.

Natasha steps forward to assist, but before she can reach them, someone grabs her from behind and throws her against a concrete column. She groans in surprise as pain radiates from the impact. 

Before she can recover, a body pins her against the wall, an arm pressing against her collarbone.

Natasha’s hands instinctively push against the pressure as she focuses on her attacker. Her eyes widen in surprise at who she sees.

“Since when are you a part of the strike team?” she grunts out.

You frown slightly and nod toward Steve. 

“Since Captain America took down most of their men, and they had to pull others from different teams,” you explain before giving her a questioning look. “You do know he’s wanted by SHIELD, right?”

“Yes,” Natasha grits out, raising her knee sharply, catching you off guard. 

The sudden pain in your side forces you to loosen your grip just enough for her to slip out. With a swift motion, Natasha twists her body, reversing your positions, and slams you against the wall, pinning you there.

“Do you know why SHIELD wants you to hunt him?” Natasha challenges.

Despite being pinned, your expression remains calm as you raise a brow at her.

“What happened to the Black Widow who followed every order—no questions asked?”

Natasha pauses, thinking about the anger and sense of loss she felt after Fury’s sudden death—one of the few who had become an important figure in her life. He was betrayed, and she was determined to find out who was behind it, even if it meant going against orders.

“I’m trying something new,” Natasha answers. 

To her surprise, a smile spreads across your face, and you remark proudly, “Good.”

It’s then Natasha notices you aren’t even trying to break free from your pinned position. Your hands hang limply at your sides, offering no resistance. 

Slowly, Natasha lowers her arm from your chest and takes a small step back, allowing you to lean against the wall on your own.

You make no move to attack her.

Before Natasha can question your intentions, the walkie-talkie at your side crackles to life with incoming communication.

“Anything in the lower levels?” Rumlow’s voice asks.

Your eyes drift down to the device at the request for an answer. As your hand reaches for the walkie-talkie, Steve, having just dealt with the other agent, rushes toward you. 

But Natasha quickly stops him, holding out her to block his path. She watches you calmly as you raise the walkie to your mouth, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time.

“Negative in the parking garage,” you respond.

Rumlow’s frustrated growl sounds through the speaker. “Expand the search area and sweep the floors again.”

“Understood.”

With that, you casually toss the walkie aside and raise your hands in surrender. When Natasha and Steve remain still, you give them a pointed look.

“Shouldn’t the two of you be looking for a way to escape?” you suggest, your tone laced with a hint of urgency.

Understanding your intentions, Steve gives you an appreciative nod and gently touches Natasha’s arm. 

“I’ll go find us a ride,” he says.

“Okay,” Natasha replies with a nod, watching as Steve heads off in search of a vehicle.

When she turns back to you, she notices a slight frown on your face as your arms cross over your chest.

“You two seem closer,” you observe.

Natasha chuckles softly, catching the hint of displeasure in your tone. 

“Aren’t you the one who told me to make friends?”

You huff in response, giving her a tiny glare before walking past her.

As you examine the unconscious agent on the ground, a thoughtful hum escapes you, clearly contemplating your next move.

Sensing your dilemma, Natasha steps beside you and offers, “You could always come with us.”

You shake your head and turn to her with a slight smirk. 

“Three’s a crowd,” you reply before taking a step closer, tilting your head curiously. “Did you really kiss him?”

Realizing you must have overheard her earlier comment, Natasha starts to explain.

“It was just a cover.”

She watches you carefully as you take another step closer, leaving only a small gap between your bodies. Feeling slightly distracted, Natasha swallows lightly and continues, unsure why she feels the need to explain herself further.

“Public displays of affection make people very…”

Natasha’s words trail off as you place your hands on her waist and lean in slightly with a tilt of your head.

“…uncomfortable,” she finishes softly, her eyes falling to your lips, which curve up slightly at her attention.

Her pulse quickens, and for a moment, the world around the two of you fades, leaving only the charged tension in the air between you. 

That familiar, tempting feeling stirs within her again.

She lifts her eyes to meet yours, noticing the amusement dancing in your gaze.

“Are you uncomfortable?” you whisper, the words softly caressing her lips.

Natasha finds herself leaning forward as she responds with a breathless sigh, “No.” 

Just as the space between you is about to disappear, you abruptly pull back, removing your hands from her hips and stepping away. 

“Good to know,” you say with a playful grin. You raise your hand to reveal a tiny taser disk between your fingers. “Do you mind if I borrow this?”

Still stunned by your sudden move, Natasha remains frozen, too shocked to react to the revelation of the item you swiped from her.

You chuckle at her silence, tilting your head playfully. 

“Catch me?” you request before activating the device and delivering an electric shock to yourself.

Recovering quickly, Natasha catches you as you slump forward, wrapping her arms around you and gently lowering you to the ground.

With a small huff of disbelief, Natasha cups your unconscious face, caressing your cheek with a fond touch.

You always know how to leave her speechless.

A truck pulls up beside her, and Steve leans out from the driver’s seat. “Ready to go?”

Natasha takes a moment to make sure you’re positioned comfortably before nodding and hopping into the passenger seat.

As they drive toward New Jersey, the silence eventually gives way to their earlier conversation.

“Really? Nobody special, though?” Natasha asks, glancing over at Steve.

Steve sighs, a touch of exasperation in his voice. 

“Believe it or not, it’s kind of hard to find someone with shared life experiences,” he replies, then gestures toward her. “And what about you? You keep urging me to go on dates, but it doesn’t seem like you’re taking any steps in your love life either.”

He nudges her arm encouragingly, adding, “That agent earlier seemed interested.”

Natasha smirks at his observation, her gaze drifting to the window as the trees blur past. After a pause, she answers, her voice thoughtful.

“I don’t know. People usually want something real,” she says, her eyes distant, as if she’s seeing something far beyond the road. She turns to Steve with a small, sad smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Nothing about me is.”

Steve remains silent for a moment, processing her words.

“You know, you’ll never find out if someone can accept you until you let them see the real you,” he says gently, his tone firm yet understanding.

“Yeah…” Natasha whispers, almost to herself. 

Her thoughts wander to her secretive past, the parts of herself hidden from the world. If you knew who she really was, would you still trust her? Or would you leave her, like so many others had? 

Her entire life, people wanted her to be something for them—a killer, a spy, a tool. Everyone had their own agenda.

She turns back to Steve, a curious glint in her eyes. “Who do you want me to be?”

Steve meets her gaze, sincerity in his expression. “How about a friend?” he suggests, his words simple yet filled with meaning.

Natasha laughs, starting with disbelief but gradually softening into something more genuine.

Shaking her head, she imagines what her past self would think of her now—a person trying to be more open to others.

“Maybe I could manage that,” she decides, her tone lighter than ever before.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Avengers Tower, New York City – 2015

Laughter fills the common room of the Avengers Tower as everyone takes turns trying to lift Thor’s hammer. With one last grunt, Steve lets go and shakes his head in defeat, returning to his seat with a chuckle.

“Alright, be honest, it’s rigged,” Tony remarks to Thor. “The handle is imprinted. The one who is worthy is the one with Thor’s fingerprints, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Clint agrees with a laugh, clinking his bottle with Natasha’s. He sits on the floor, leaning against her seat, and takes another sip.

Natasha chuckles lightly and brings her bottle up for a drink, only to pull it away and see it’s empty. She looks at it in confusion, wondering when she had finished it.

A hand takes the empty bottle from her, and Natasha turns to see you sitting on the arm of her chair, giving her an amused smile.

“You finished it two attempts ago,” you reveal.

“Were you watching me the entire time?” Natasha asks with a playful smirk.

You return her expression with a slight smirk of your own and lean in closer, your hand sliding against the back of her chair.

“Well, it’s hard to pay attention to anyone else when you’re around,” you reply.

Before Natasha can respond, Tony claps his hands together, exclaiming, “Alright, who’s next? Romanoff? Hill?”

Maria shakes her head as she stands and heads to the bar. “I’m going to have to pass.”

Chuckling lightly, you stand also and give Natasha an encouraging touch on her shoulder.

“You have fun. I’m going to get us another round.” 

Natasha’s eyes follow you the entire time as you walk away. When she finally turns back around, she notices Steve giving her a pointed look. 

“What?” she questions, arching a brow.

“Come on, you and her. It’s obvious there’s something between you two,” Steve insists.

“Don’t bother, Cap. She’s not going to be convinced. I’ve tried,” Clint chimes in, earning a tiny kick from Natasha in reprimand.

“Ow, see what I mean.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

“We flirt,” she defends with a shrug. “It’s what we’ve always done. Just some innocent fun.” 

Tony, overhearing the exchange, joins the conversation with a nod toward something behind her.

“Yeah, well, it’s not looking so innocent over there,” he remarks.

Natasha furrows her brows and turns to look at the bar. Her frown deepens at what she sees.

You and Maria are talking and laughing together, with the latter leaning a bit too close for Natasha’s comfort.

“Hey, take it from someone who knows. You don’t want to wait before it’s too late,” Steve advises.

Natasha considers his words as she watches the two of you, contemplating what she should do. 

You and she have grown and maintained this comfortable dynamic for years. Of course, there’s an undeniable attraction, but Natasha isn’t sure if taking things further would be worth the risk of losing what she already has with you.

However, when Maria leans forward to whisper something in your ear, Natasha suddenly finds herself rising from her chair and heading toward the bar.

Just as you duck down to grab something from the bottom shelves, Maria takes the opportunity to slip away, passing by Natasha with a pat on the shoulder and a whispered, “Good luck.”

Frowning in confusion, Natasha glances back to see Maria and Clint exchanging a high-five. Realizing she’s been set up, Natasha turns to retreat to her seat before you notice her.

But it’s too late.

“Oh, hey, I’m almost finished with the drinks,” you call out, straightening with a grin as you spot her.

With her escape route cut off, Natasha decides to sit at the counter, her earlier irritation melting away when she meets your gaze.

“You sure you’re not getting distracted over here?” Natasha teases, her tone playful.

You laugh lightly as you secure the top of the shaker, shaking it with practiced ease, your eyes never leaving hers.

“Only if you’re the distraction,” you tease back.

Natasha relaxes at the warmth of the familiar banter, putting her at ease as she watches you finish preparing the drinks and pour them into two glasses.

You slide one across the counter to her and nod curiously toward the gathered group.

“You didn’t want to try to lift the hammer?” you ask with a curious tilt of your head.

“Oh, no,” Natasha replies, shaking her head slightly as she raises her glass to her lips. “No, that’s not a question that I need answered.”

“Really?” you respond, leaning forward on the counter, bringing yourself closer to her. Your hand inches toward hers, brushing her fingers lightly and letting the touch linger. 

With a slight smirk, you raise a brow. “Then what is?”

That familiar feeling stirs in Natasha’s chest again as she holds your gaze—the temptation to close the distance between you two growing stronger.

Recalling Steve’s advice, Natasha swallows nervously and answers in a soft whisper, “Something probably only you can help me with.”

Intrigued, you gesture for her to continue, your attention entirely on her.

“There’s this thing—this feeling,” Natasha begins cautiously. “It appears during certain situations, like a pressure in my chest.” 

You furrow your brows in concern. “Does it hurt?”

Natasha chuckles lightly, her gaze dropping to the drink you made for her, swirling it gently. The small ripples are nothing compared to the pounding of her heart at that moment.

“Sometimes,” she admits, her eyes drifting to your hand beside hers. She’s tempted to intertwine them but ultimately decides against it.

“It feels like I’m standing on the edge,” Natasha explains, meeting your eyes again. “I know what’s waiting for me if I turn and walk away, but if I choose to fall…”

She releases a shaky breath. 

“…I don’t know what that future looks like, and that terrifies me.”

Your expression softens with understanding. You reach out, this time more deliberately, and your fingers find hers with gentle assurance.

Natasha clears her throat lightly, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she tries to mask the vulnerability of her confession.

“So what should I do?” she asks, her tone teasing, an attempt to deflect the seriousness of the moment.

You chuckle softly, recognizing her attempt to lighten the mood.

“I think—”

The sound of scratching metal against the floor interrupts the conversation as Natasha and everyone in the room turn to look at the dilapidated robot that has just dragged itself in front of them.

The moments after that are chaotic as she and the Avengers have to deal with Ultron’s threat to the world.

New Avengers Facility, Upstate New York

With Ultron defeated and most of the original members either retired or off on their own adventures, Natasha watches bittersweetly as Steve welcomes the new recruits to the Avengers. 

Footsteps approach and stop beside her, and Natasha doesn’t need to look to know who it is.

“The new team looks good,” you comment, your eyes scanning the mix of familiar and new faces before glancing at Natasha’s expression.

“Do you miss them?” you ask softly, understanding the emotions behind her eyes.

Natasha sighs, her gaze still fixed on the newcomers.

“Nothing lasts forever,” she replies, a touch of sadness in her voice but not surprised. She’s accustomed to things not staying a part of her life.

You hum thoughtfully, considering her words before declaring with quiet conviction, “Well, you won’t have to worry about that with me.”

Natasha turns to look at you with a curious tilt of her head.

You offer her a small, reassuring smile. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, your words laced with promise.

A soft smile spreads across Natasha’s face at your assurance, feeling the familiar warmth blossoming in her chest.

“You never answered my question,” she reminds you, referring to the conversation that was interrupted earlier.

Natasha waits, her nerves on edge as you consider your response. Finally, you meet her gaze with a soft expression, placing a gentle hand on her arm.

“You should do whatever feels right for you,” you say sincerely, giving her arm a comforting squeeze before turning to leave.

Natasha looks down, a slight shake of her head and a light huff of amusement escaping her as she recognizes your deflection.

“But if you want my opinion…” you add, pausing at the doorway, prompting Natasha to look back up at you.

Lingering at the threshold, you offer her a playful smirk. “… I’d say, based on my track record, I’ve caught you when you’ve fallen before.” You shrug lightly. “And it seems like everything has turned out fine since then.”

Your smile widens as you notice Natasha rendered speechless once again before you turn to leave the room.

Recovering quickly, Natasha strides after you with determination. She catches up to you this time, gently taking your hand and turning you around to face her.

Cupping your cheek, she leans in and kisses you, pouring all her emotions into the gesture.

Before she can even worry that she might have made a mistake, you wrap your arms around her, pulling her closer as you deepen the kiss, your lips moving fervently against hers.

The world around Natasha fades away, leaving only the two of you in that moment, and she knows she made the right decision.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Leipzig-Halle Airport, Leipzig – 2016

Natasha looks across the airport at the people she had come to call friends and then back at those standing beside her. As the two sides rush at each other and engage in battle, she can’t help but wonder how it came to this—how they all decided that fighting each other was the only option left. 

She’s not even sure if signing the accords was the right choice, but the one thing she does know is that staying together is supposed to be the most important thing. 

Just because they’re fighting now doesn’t mean Natasha cares any less about them. The thought lingers as the chaos of battle surrounds her. 

Clint flips her to the ground, and she reacts instinctively, bringing up her batons to block his bow from pinning her down. The two lock eyes, a familiar intensity passing between them.

“We’re still friends, right?�� Natasha asks, her voice steady despite the conflict around them.

Clint smirks, the kind of smile that reassures her, even in the midst of battle. 

“Depends on how hard you hit me.”

Natasha grins back, then uses her legs to flip him off of her. She springs to her feet, ready to deliver a follow-up kick, when a sudden wave of red energy wraps around her leg, freezing her in place. 

Startled, she glances to the side, catching only a brief glimpse of Wanda before she’s hurled through the air. 

Natasha braces herself for the inevitable impact, but instead of hitting the metal wall of an airport car, she collides with a body in mid-air. 

A pair of arms wrap around her, cushioning the fall as they both tumble to the ground. They roll to a stop, with Natasha ending up on top. 

Dazed but unharmed, she pushes herself up, her breath coming in short gasps as she looks down to see who caught her.

“Hey,” Natasha greets softly, a small smile forming on her lips as she cups your face with her hands. “What are you doing here?”

You don’t return her smile, instead frowning at her with concern. 

“The Avengers are fighting each other, and you didn’t think to call me?” 

Natasha’s smile falters, and she shifts her gaze away, her voice soft with guilt. 

“I didn’t want you to have to choose a side.”

You release a knowing sigh. 

“You mean, you were afraid I wouldn’t agree with your choice,” you correct gently.

Natasha twists her lips at the truth in your words. 

Yes, she’s afraid. Her makeshift family is breaking apart before her eyes, and she’s desperate to protect the one other part of her life that matters. 

Why wouldn’t she try to shield you from this chaos?

Your hand covers hers, still resting on your cheek, drawing her attention back to you.

“I’ve told you, Nat. Do whatever it is you feel is right for you. I’ll support you no matter what.”

Natasha’s eyes soften, a wave of relief washing over her. She starts to lean in, but you stop her with a gentle press of your finger against her lips.

“However,” you add, your voice firm and disapproving, “not calling me and having me find out from Stark? That’s a different kind of trouble you’re in.” 

Natasha chuckles, taking your hand from her face and pressing a gentle kiss against your palm, a hint of playfulness entering her voice.

“Well, you still love me though, right?”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to maintain your stern expression, though it softens slightly.

“I don’t know. Ask me again after this,” you tease back at her. 

Before Natasha can respond, Tony’s voice crackles through the comms, interrupting the moment. 

“Uh, less flirting, you two. In case you forgot, there are multiple fights happening around you.” 

Natasha rolls her eyes, but the smile remains on her face as she helps you up, ready to rejoin the fray.

Leipzig Hospital Balcony

“You let them go, Nat,” Tony accuses, his voice sharp with disbelief.

Natasha doesn’t deny it. In the end, she chose to help Steve and Bucky because it was the right thing to do. If the fighting didn’t stop, it would only cause more pain for everyone involved.

“We played this wrong,” Natasha admits, her voice tinged with regret.

“We?” Tony scoffs, shaking his head in frustration. “You know, it must be hard to shake the whole double agent thing, huh? It sticks in the DNA.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. Natasha flinches inwardly, the hurt flickering across her face before she quickly masks it. 

His comment cuts deeper than she expected, reminding her of the ghosts of her past, the shadows she’s fought so hard to leave behind after all these years. 

But here, at this moment, those shadows seem to close in on her, dark and suffocating, reminding her of the person she used to be.

Her voice hardens, a cold edge creeping into her tone. “Are you incapable of letting go of your ego for one goddamn second?” 

Tony’s expression remains stony, but there’s a brief flicker of something in his eyes—regret, maybe, or disappointment. He doesn’t back down, though. 

“T’Challa told Ross what you did, so…they’re coming for you.” 

Natasha meets his gaze, her eyes steely, refusing to show any sign of fear. 

“I’m not the one that needs to watch their back,” she replies before turning to leave.

As she walks away, the weight of the confrontation settles in her chest, heavy and suffocating. 

She finds an empty hallway and leans against the wall, pressing her hands to her eyes, trying to push back the frustration and the sting of Tony’s words. Her breath comes in uneven gasps as she struggles to regain her composure.

A gentle hand touches her wrist, a gesture of comfort, but in her raw state, she instinctively swats it away. 

When she looks up, your expression is sad as your hands retreat to your sides. You clear your throat awkwardly, searching for the right words. 

“I can talk with Ross. Maybe change his mind or something.”

Natasha breaks away from your soft gaze, looking down and biting her lip to stop herself from saying the cutting remark on the tip of her tongue—that it would not make a difference, not with her past. 

She’s all too aware of the person she was, and no words could erase that history.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” you try to reassure her. 

Despite the same certainty and determination in your tone, Natasha can’t seem to find it in her to believe that to be true this time.

Glancing up, Natasha’s eyes fall on the bruises and scratches on your face, injuries you sustained because of her—because you chose to stand by her side. 

The sight only deepens the ache in her chest.

“Don’t,” Natasha mutters, her voice trembling. “Just leave.”

“Nat…” you begin, your voice soft, filled with concern.

But she closes her eyes tightly, shaking her head as if to block out the sound. “I said go! Leave me alone!” 

The harshness in her tone is laced with pain, and it cuts through the air like a knife. 

For a moment, there’s silence, thick and heavy, before you turn and walk away, leaving Natasha alone with her thoughts. 

The hallway echoes with the sound of your retreating footsteps.

Natasha sinks down to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees, feeling the weight of her actions pressing down on her like never before.

She thought she could finally have a different life, that she could change, but nothing has changed. She still hurts the people around her.

So, Natasha does what she does best. She disappears.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Seventh Circle Prison, Russia – 2016

The whirl of the helicopter blades fills the air as Natasha flies away from the prison, the tension inside the cabin palpable among its three occupants.

“It means so much to me that you girls came back for me,” Alexei begins, his voice tinged with nostalgia.

Natasha, however, isn’t in the mood for such sentimentality. Her voice is sharp as she cuts him off, “No. No, you’re gonna tell us how to get to the Red Room.”

Alexei huffs, slightly taken aback by her tone.

“Whoa, look at you, huh? All business.”

“Trust me, this isn’t pleasure,” Natasha retorts, her eyes narrowing in irritation. She was not prepared to deal with her old family after just losing her new one. But the quicker she destroys the Red Room and saves the remaining Widows, the faster she can leave this part of her past behind.

Behind her, Alexei chuckles, though there’s a trace of bitterness in his laughter.

“Little Natasha, all indoctrinated into the Western agenda.”

Natasha’s gaze hardens as she turns to glare at him. 

“I chose to go west to become an Avenger. At least they treated me like family.”

“Really? Family?” Alexei’s tone drips with sarcasm. “Well, where are they now?”

From the corner of her eye, Natasha catches Yelena looking at her. A mix of emotions crosses Yelena’s face—curiosity, concern, and a brief flash of sadness—before she turns away, staring forward.

“Where is that family now?” Alexei repeats, his voice louder, more insistent.

Unable to face the question any longer, Natasha turns away, focusing on the landscape outside instead.

The ache of loss resurfaces within her, a painful reminder of the bonds she once believed were unbreakable, now torn apart so easily.

As the helicopter continues to slice through the air, the silence between them grows heavier, especially after Natasha discovers that Melina is still working for Dreykov, remotely operating somewhere outside of Saint Petersburg.

With Yelena now at the controls of the helicopter, Natasha takes a moment for herself. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small flip phone—the only possession she hadn’t discarded when she went on the run.

Opening it, she stares at the screen, at the message she’s been fixated on for weeks.

“I love you” 

It was the last thing you sent her after she had disappeared. 

Natasha swallows nervously before attempting once more to type a response. Her fingers move over the keys, spelling out the same words that appeared on the screen countless times before.

I’m sorry|

But once again, nothing else follows. Frustration wells up inside her as her fingers hesitate, struggling to find the right words.

Instead of clarity, a heavy weight presses down on her—guilt from your last moment together, regret over her actions, and fear of what the future holds for the two of you.

Before she can dwell on it further, the helicopter suddenly lurches, jostling everyone inside.

“Yelena?!” Natasha calls out, her voice filled with alarm.

The blonde-haired Widow nods calmly, her tone casual despite the situation. 

“Uh, yeah, the plane’s going down.” She flips a few switches, nodding in confirmation. “Told you we didn’t have enough fuel to get there.”

Groaning in frustration, Natasha quickly tucks the phone away, securing herself as she declares, “Everyone, brace yourselves.”

After a rough landing and leaving the wrecked helicopter behind, they finally arrive at Melina’s home.

The four of them sit awkwardly around the table, a scene eerily reminiscent of how it was many years ago.

Breaking the silence, Alexei exclaims joyfully, “Family! Back together again!”

Natasha rolls her eyes, dismissing his enthusiasm as she tries to stay focused on the mission.

“So, here’s what’s going to happen—”

“Natasha, don’t slouch,” Melina interrupts, her voice carrying a motherly tone.

Blinking in surprise, Natasha straightens slightly, though she couldn’t help but argue, “I’m not slouching.”

“Yes, yes you are,” Melina insists, her tone firm.

“I don’t slouch,” Natasha retorts, irritation creeping into her voice. 

“You’re going to get a back hunch,” Melina continues, unfazed by Natasha’s resistance.

Alexei nods in agreement, tapping her arm. “Listen to your mother.” 

“All right, enough! All of you,” Natasha snaps, trying to regain control of the situation and her emotions. Her voice is tinged with disbelief at their sudden concern—as if they hadn’t abandoned her and Yelena to the Red Room once their mission was over.

“I didn’t say anything. That’s not fair,” Yelena quips, her tone laced with dry humor.

Rolling her eyes, Natasha tries again, “Here’s what’s going to happen—”

“I don’t want any food,” Yelena complains as Melina places a spoonful onto her plate.

“Eat a little something, Yelena, for God’s sake,” Melina urges, her voice slipping back into the role of a concerned mother.

The constant interruptions and forced familial interactions finally push Natasha over the edge, and her frustration boils over.

“Enough! Stop, just stop pretending to care. Our family was never real,” Natasha snaps, her voice rising. “Nothing about us is real!”

Yelena’s breath catches in her throat at Natasha’s declaration.

“Don’t say that.” Yelena’s frown deepens as she continues, “Please don’t say that. It was real. It was real to me.” 

Natasha falters at Yelena’s response, regret immediately washing over her. She hadn’t meant to hurt her sister, but with everything that’s happened in the past weeks, she could no longer control her anger and frustration.

Swallowing hard, Natasha stays silent, her hands clenching in her lap to keep from reaching out to comfort Yelena.

Yelena shakes her head in disbelief, hastily wiping away a stray tear. “The best part of my life was fake,” she exhales deeply, her voice trembling with emotion, “and none of you told me.”

She turns to Natasha, her voice filled with hurt and heavy with accusation. “And you…you got out. Dreykov made sure no one could escape after that. Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Natasha holds Yelena’s gaze for a long, tense moment, the silence between them charged with unspoken pain. Finally, Natasha flinches away, guilt preventing her from finding the right words.

Melina reaches out, placing a comforting hand on Yelena’s shoulder. But Yelena quickly brushes it off, standing abruptly and turning to leave.

“Yelena…” Natasha calls after her, her voice heavy with regret.

Yelena ignores her, slamming the door behind her as she storms out.

“Uh…I’ll go talk to her,” Alexei offers, standing up to follow.

Natasha’s gaze falls, her eyes glaring at the table as the weight of guilt presses down on her chest, almost suffocating her. She suddenly stands, pushing her chair back with a harsh scrape, and quickly leaves the table, heading for the bathroom.

Once inside, she splashes cold water on her face, hoping to wash away the turmoil churning inside her.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, frustration is etched into every line of her face.

Why does it seem like the only thing she’s capable of is hurting those around her?

Natasha can’t even remember what made her believe that someone like her could have a different life—that she could change and be more than what she was trained to be.

Sighing deeply, Natasha leaves the bathroom and returns to the table, only to find that Melina has gone as well.

Unsurprised, Natasha finds herself alone once again. She closes her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to steady herself. As she does, she recalls how she used to cope with the pain of loneliness, slowly beginning to rebuild the walls around her heart.

But then, a small commotion outside catches her attention.

Moving cautiously, Natasha heads toward the front of the house to investigate. As she reaches the door, she freezes, hearing a familiar voice that stops her in her tracks.

“I’m not here to cause any trouble. I’m just looking for someone.”

Natasha’s brow furrows in recognition, but she quickly shakes her head, dismissing the thought. It can’t be possible.

“The next town is five miles that way,” Melina’s voice responds, cold and unwelcoming.

Curiosity gets the better of her, and Natasha peeks out the door, stepping outside cautiously. Her eyes widen in surprise when they meet yours.

“Nat…” you say softly, taking a hesitant step closer. But before you can move further, Melina raises the gun in her hand, her eyes filled with a clear warning.

“Wait,” Natasha calls out, rushing forward. She places her hand on Melina’s, gently but firmly lowering the weapon. “She’s not a threat.” 

“Well, that’s a little offensive,” you remark with a slight glare, crossing your arms. 

Natasha gives you a look, silently conveying that she didn’t mean it that way, then turns back to Melina.

“Could you give us a moment?” Natasha asks. 

Melina hesitates briefly, her protective gaze lingering on Natasha, but eventually nods. With a wary glance in your direction, she retreats back into the house.

Once alone, Natasha turns to you, her expression conflicted with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“How did you find me?” 

“I got worried after the message you sent me,” you explain, pulling out your phone and showing her the screen.

On it is a jumbled message: “I’m sorrywjhsgf”

Natasha grimaces, realizing her fingers must have accidentally pressed some buttons during the helicopter’s turbulent descent. She mentally kicks herself for the unintended message.

“I didn’t mean to send that.”

At her words, your face falls as understanding dawns on you, the light in your eyes dimming. 

“Oh,” you mutter quietly, glancing down as you fidget with your phone before tucking it away. You shuffle in place unsurely before turning away with a shake of your head. 

“I should just go,” you say, disappointment clear in your voice. 

Realizing the misunderstanding she’s caused, Natasha quickly reaches out, catching your arm and turning you back to face her, her words spilling out in a rush.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant,” Natasha blurts out, her voice urgent as she steps closer. “I wanted to say more than just sorry,” she clarifies, hoping you’ll understand.

You pause, your gaze lingering where her hand rests on your arm. Slowly, you pull away, and her hand drops back to her side.

At your distancing action, Natasha’s heart pounds painfully in her chest as she realizes how much she’s risked by not reaching out sooner and letting her fears and insecurities get in the way of what truly matters.

She braces herself for the inevitable. 

But instead of leaving, you surprise her by simply crossing your arms and waiting, a silent gesture that tells her you’re willing to listen.

Natasha exhales, only now realizing she’d been holding her breath. The familiar way you look at her, unchanged from before, causes the walls she’d been building to crumble.

Taking a deep breath, she begins to speak.

“You have every right to be angry with me,” she says, her voice tinged with guilt. Natasha hesitates, searching for the right words to express the turmoil inside her, still struggling to find herself amidst all the chaos.

“There’s so much more I need to say,” she continues, her voice softening, almost pleading. “But the problem is that I haven’t figured it all out yet. What I do know, though—” she pauses, her eyes locking onto yours, searching for any hint of hope, “—is that I don’t want you to leave.”

When she finishes, your expression remains unreadable.

Natasha bites her lip, anxiety twisting in her stomach as she watches you contemplate her words. Being this vulnerable is unfamiliar territory for her, and it terrifies her more than she’s willing to admit. 

“Please don’t go,” she whispers, a final, desperate plea, hoping it’s enough to convey the depth of her true feelings.

You look up at the sky, exhaling softly as if weighing your options.

When your gaze finally meets hers again, a small, playful smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You gesture toward the house, the tension easing as a lighter tone returns to your voice.

“New friends?” you ask, the warmth in your tone bringing a small smile to Natasha’s face.

Natasha chuckles lightly, the pressure in her chest easing at your familiar banter.

“More like an old, broken family.”

You hum thoughtfully, your teasing grin softening into a more sympathetic expression.

“So, not much different,” you remark, referencing the fractured state of the Avengers.

Natasha sighs sadly, her smile fading at the reminder of her situation.

“What should I do?” she asks, her voice tinged with the uncertainty she’s been trying so hard to conceal. 

It feels as though no matter what she does, nothing ever changes. She pretends to have all the answers, but deep down, she knows the truth is far from that.

“Whatever you feel is right,” you respond without hesitation, your confidence in her unwavering.

Natasha scoffs softly, a flicker of disbelief crossing her features as she hesitates. Her eyes meet yours, searching for reassurance.

“And what makes you so sure I’ll make the right choice?” she asks, her voice revealing the doubt that lingers deep within her.

You take a moment to consider your response before stepping closer, gently cupping her face in your hands.

“Because after everything you’ve been through, you’ve still kept your heart,” you say with quiet conviction, your thumb gently brushing her cheek as you lean your forehead against hers.

“That’s how I know you’ll figure this out, too,” you add, your voice filled with certainty.

Your words settle over Natasha, bringing a sense of calm to her chaotic thoughts. For the first time in a long while, she feels a glimmer of hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, she can find her way through this mess and everything else, too.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Avenger Compound, Upstate New York – 2018

Natasha sits on the edge of the bed in her old room at the Avengers Compound, watching you as you methodically strap on your gear and check your weapons.

The room is dimly lit, shadows playing along the walls, and the tension from the past few hours hangs heavily in the air.

Her leg bounces with nervous energy, worry gnawing at her. She presses her palms together, fidgeting with her fingers, before dropping her gaze to the floor and releasing a soft, scared sigh.

But the fear isn’t for herself. 

“You can still go, you know,” Natasha mutters softly, her voice barely breaking the silence. 

You hum in acknowledgment, not pausing in your preparation, the sound of buckles and straps filling the room. 

“Do you want me to?” you ask over your shoulder, your tone casual, almost too casual for the weight of the question.

Natasha huffs, recognizing your familiar deflection, and shakes her head. 

With Bruce’s dire warning about the impending battle with Thanos and his army still echoing in her mind, she can’t help the fear that tightens her chest as she looks at the person who has chosen to stand by her side, time and time again. 

“I want you safe,” Natasha admits, her voice trembling with the honesty of her words. 

“Good, I feel the same about you,” you reply, turning to face her, your expression softening as you take in the sight of her.

“I’m serious. This isn’t like anything we’ve faced before,” Natasha warns, her eyes pleading with yours to understand. 

“Which means you’ll need all the help you can get,” you say, stepping closer until you’re standing right in front of her.

Natasha twists her lips, frustrated by the truth in your words. She looks away, trying to hide the turmoil in her eyes. 

But you won’t let her retreat. 

You gently catch her chin with your finger, guiding her face back to yours as you lean down to press a soft, lingering kiss against her lips.

Natasha’s eyes flutter shut as she returns the kiss, her hand instinctively finding the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if she can anchor herself in the warmth of your touch.

When you finally pull away, Natasha bites her lip lightly, trying to hold onto the warmth for just a moment longer.

You rest your forehead against hers, and she finally opens her eyes, meeting yours with a rare vulnerability she shows only to you.

“Are you scared?” you ask softly, your voice laced with the same fear gnawing at her. 

Natasha’s eyes roam across your face, memorizing every detail as if it might be the last time she sees you.

“Terrified,” she admits, her voice raw with emotion.

“Me too,” you say, a small, reassuring smile tugging at your lips as your thumb gently caresses her cheek. 

“Are you going to leave?” you ask, even though Natasha’s sure you already know the answer. 

The Avengers are her family. Imperfect and flawed, but they always strive to make the world a safer place—to do what’s right. She would never abandon them when they need her most.

“No,” she responds, her voice filled with determined resolve. 

You smile knowingly at her response, your gaze drifting around the room as a look of nostalgia washes over you. 

The soft, wistful look in your eyes tells Natasha that you’re recalling the memories of all the times the two of you spent together in this space. 

When you meet Natasha’s gaze again, a playful smile tugs at your lips.

“Do you still love me?” you ask teasingly.

Natasha huffs in mock offense, the corner of her lips twitching into a half-smile. You can’t help but chuckle at her reaction, raising a brow in amusement.

“Well?” you whisper, your voice low as you lean in closer, your breath warm against her skin, your hands resting gently on her shoulders.

Instead of answering, Natasha wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you in until you’re straddling her, your knees pressing into the bed on either side of her. 

The bed dips slightly under your combined weight, and Natasha holds you close, her hands firm yet gentle on your waist.

“I love you,” Natasha breathes out, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t want to lose you.” 

You cup her face in your hands, your eyes filled with love and adoration as you give her a reassuring smile. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you reaffirm, your voice steady and full of the certainty she needs to hear. 

You lower yourself onto her, gently guiding her down to lie back against the bed, your lips meeting hers in a tender kiss. 

You had said it with such conviction that Natasha can’t help but believe you, just as she always has. 

But how could she have known that after this battle, for the first time ever, it wouldn’t be true?

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Vomir – 2023

They say that when someone is about to die, their life flashes before their eyes—a rapid montage of memories, achievements, failures, regrets, and the relationships that mattered most.

For Natasha, the idea of her life flashing before her eyes seems almost laughable. Her early years are a blur of pain, manipulation, and control—years she would rather forget than relive.

The truth is, her real life didn’t begin until much later.

If Natasha had to pinpoint the exact moment, it would be when she found herself face-to-face with the sharp point of an arrow—the moment she met the first person to see something in her worth saving when she had seen nothing in herself.

That was the moment she was given the chance to truly live.

Her mind floods with memories of the life she built after that fateful encounter—a life she had never imagined for herself, filled with friends, laughter, and moments of unexpected warmth.

She remembers the first time she allowed herself to trust again, to let people in despite the walls she had built around her heart. 

With all their quirks and flaws, the Avengers became the family she never knew she needed. They challenged her, frustrated her, and made her feel alive in ways she had never thought possible.

But it wasn’t always easy. Natasha recalls the arguments, the disagreements, and the moments when it seemed like they were tearing apart at the seams. 

However, no matter how far they drifted, they always found their way back to each other.

She learned to fight for them, to fight for herself, and to fight for something greater than her past.

And then there were those who reached out from her previous life, some seeking assistance, some seeking redemption. Even then, Natasha chose to rebuild those broken bonds of the past.

Yet, among all these memories, one person stands out more than any other. 

That person was there at every pivotal moment in her life—whether she was on the verge of giving up or standing tall in the face of adversity. Through the highs and lows, they were her constant, the one who saw her for who she truly was and loved her all the more for it.

In her final moments, Natasha’s mind doesn’t dwell on her victories or her failures.

Instead, she sees your face, the one constant in her life that brought her peace and happiness. 

Natasha remembers the way you looked at her, with eyes that held no judgment, only love. She recalls the way your touch calmed her, the way your presence made her feel safe in a world that had always been hostile.

As she falls, Natasha realizes that this connection is what matters most. It’s not the battles or the missions that define her, but the love she found in the most unexpected place. 

And as the darkness closes in, the last thing she sees is you, a symbol of everything she has fought for and everything she has come to cherish.

Her final breath is taken not in fear but in peace, knowing that she lived a life worth remembering—a life filled with love, friendship, and purpose.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Cemetery, Ohio — 2023

“If you passed away, who would sit at your grave the longest?”

Natasha had asked you that question once. 

At the time, you couldn’t come up with a definite answer, so you had turned the question back to her. 

You remember the way her lips curved into a small, wistful smile as she considered it, her eyes reflecting a depth of sadness you had only glimpsed before. 

“I don’t know,” she had replied, her voice soft but honest, as if she had long accepted that was her inevitable fate.

Natasha could not come up with an answer then, but you did.

“Who would sit at her grave the longest?”

You didn’t need any time to think about the answer. Many people could rightfully fill that role. 

To Melina and Alexei, she was their beloved daughter, the one who had been torn from them too soon, only to return with a strength and resolve that made them proud. 

To Yelena, she was her cherished sister—a mentor, a protector, the person who had sacrificed so much to ensure Yelena had a chance at a real life, free from the chains of the Red Room. 

To the Avengers, she was a valued teammate and friend, the glue that held them together through the darkest times. She was their moral compass, the one who always found a way to do what was right, even when the cost was high. 

To the world, she was a hero, a symbol of resilience and redemption. The Black Widow, who had fought for a better future, leaving a legacy that would inspire generations to come.

To you…she was everything.

Your fingers trace the delicate grooves of her engraved name, feeling the weight of every memory, every moment you had shared. 

You stood by her side through nearly all of it—the battles, the victories, the losses. You had seen her at her best and at her worst, through moments of triumph and times of doubt. 

You loved her fiercely, from strangers to friends to something so much more.

She was the woman who had shown you the strength of vulnerability, the power of redemption, and the courage to love despite the risks.

In the end, you were right about all those who would come to see her, to pay their respects to the woman who had become an important part of their lives. 

But they would all eventually leave, returning to their own lives, their own battles. They would remember her, yes, but they would move on.

But not you.

“So, who would sit at Natasha’s grave the longest?”

That answer was clear.

“You would. Now and forever.” 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: this one was really long so if you made it to the end in one go, kudos for you and thank you for taking the time to read it!

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | series masterlist

delicatebarness | masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader. Steve Rogers x Sister!Reader. Platonic!Natasha Romanoff x Reader. Platonic!Wanda Maximoff x Reader. Platonic!Sam Wilson x Reader.

Warnings: Biker Au. Bad boy with softie interior. Smoking. Alcohol. Crying, a lot of crying. Men being 🤮.

Main Story Word Count: 40,977

Support: Ko-Fi

Book Cover 1 | Book Cover 2 | The Final Book Cover

Spotify Playlist

Cry Baby Final Draft

Prologue | Chapter One |

Cry Baby First Draft

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter One.Five | Chapter Two | Chapter Two.Five | Chapter Three | Chapter Three.Five | Chapter Four | Chapter Four.Five | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty One | Chapter Twenty Two | Chapter Twenty Three | Chapter Twenty Four | Chapter Twenty Five | Chapter Twenty Six | Chapter Twenty Seven | Chapter Twenty Eight | Chapter Twenty Nine | Chapter Thirty | Epilogue

Canon One Shots & Drabbles

“Just please, don’t leave me.” | "Just please, don't leave me." pt 2 | "That's just my face," | "What's up, Sweetheart?" | "It's just a jacket," | "You're the bravest person I know," | pinky promises & kisses | no point crying over spilled beer... | no point crying over spilled beer... pt.2 | "the safest person she could end up with." | "my safe place," | "I've got you," | "You always take care of me!" | brotherly love |

Non Canon One Shots & Drabbles

"we're soulmates," | THE ALT ENDING |

Moods

Bucky | CryBaby | The Girls | The Boys

One | Two | Three | Four | Five |

FAQS

What’s their age again? | PT2 | Cherry Cola | Siblings |

[delulu-with-wandanat]

Hey. So how about big sis Natasha and little sis reader. (They live in an orphanage called the red room)

Jock Nat finds out that her nerd little sis is getting bullied by the cheer squad. Protective Nat isn't having any of it ..... even if she has to fight with her best friend, cheer cap Wanda ...... ?

Please and thank you 😊

Sweater Weather

Reader Description: She/her, nerdy, often wears an outer, freshman.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Sister!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: Bullying, mentions of suicide.

Summary: Wanda and Natasha are friends, maybe even more. People love a classic jock and cheerleader trope. However when Natasha finds out that Wanda's little groupie had been bullying her little sister, it puts a strain on their relationship. Will Wanda be able to redeem herself?

⧗ᗢ⧗ᗢ⧗

They always said high school was the best time of your life, at least that's what they said in movies or whatever the hell that guy said in that crappy TV show, 'Highs and lows of high school football'.

Y/n thought it was stupid. The show, and high school. It could be that it's true, that this was supposed to be the best time of her life. Yet perhaps that only applies to the popular kids and the jocks who wouldn't stop reminiscing about the 'good old times.'

The amount of alumni that would go back to her class and just talk to the teacher even though they only graduated like a few months ago was insane. And most of the time Y/n could tell they are one of those popular kids. Y/n could only hope her sister doesn't end up like that when she graduates.

Natasha Romanoff, star of Westview High. Captain of the softball team. And is probably dating the hot cheerleader captain, Wanda Maximoff. Natasha is proud, confident, she strides through the hallway like she owns the school. Contrast to her sisters who stray away from the spotlight, Yelena Belova and Y/n Romanoff.

Well... perhaps only Y/n. If Y/n would put them into high school stereotypes, Yelena would probably fall under the 'Cool' kids category. One where people know her and thought she's fun to be around with, she's funny, sarcastic. People knew Yelena, and Yelena knew people, but only sticks to her group of friends and not all that into popularity. Y/n thinks that's the best type of category to be in.

You fit in with everyone, and everyone just chills with you. Unfortunately for Y/n, she got the worst hierarchy in high school society.

The nerds.

Being a nerd isn't necessarily a bad thing... Well, that's what her sisters always tells her at least. But really it's hard to believe that when she gets cornered by two cheerleaders in the bathroom, how cliche.

"Hey girl!" Shannon, probably the bitchiest out of the whole cheerleading squad. "What are you doingg?" She asked with faux interest.

Y/n doesn't answer and merely kept her head down while she washes her hand.

"Don't be rude!" The other cheerleader bumped her hips while giggling to Shannon. "Oh. My. God. I LOVE your sweater, where'd you get it?"

Christ, they literally are a walking stereotype. Y/n knew they weren't interested in her sweater, this was just one of those teasing that these plastic bitches love to do. "It was my mother's..."

"And was your mom like... an old hag?" Well that was just too far, the only thing Y/n had from her birth mother was this sweater after she died in the house fire. Y/n stayed silent.

The two kept giggling while side eyeing her on the side, occasionally re-applying their make up in the mirror. Y/n quickly finishes up, not wanting to be around them any longer. She quickly left the bathroom but she heard the two giggling and talking about her behind her back.

This has been going on for months ever since she started high school. Honestly, Y/n should be used to it at this point. But that comment about her sweater crossed the line and she needed to leave quick before things escalated.

Y/n spent the rest of the day with her head down, minding her own business and eating lunch alone at the cafeteria. Normally she would sit with her friends, Shuri and Peter, the two other nerds, but they were attending some competition at the moment.

All the while, Natasha was sitting at a different table with her group of friends which was mostly made up of her teammates and the some of the Baseball boys.

"All I'm saying is if you don't ask her out, I will." Carol said with a mouthful of food.

"And I will kick you out of the team, Danvers." Natasha narrowed her eyes at Carol.

"Seriously, just ask her out. The tension is so thick I can practically punch through it."

Natasha merely rolled her eyes, but her gaze ended up locking onto a brunette who was sitting at another table. Green orbs met hers, and Wanda gave her the sweetest smile. Natasha couldn't help but to avert her gaze whilst trying to hide the grin creeping onto her face.

"Ugh, I'm going to barf." Clint said as he fake gagged. Natasha punched his shoulder lightly and he winced.

"Shut up before I show Laura that horrendous hair you had in 6th grade."

"Don't you fucking dare-"

The group fell into an easy conversation, talking about their plans after school. Showing each other funny videos they found while scrolling through social medias. Everything wasn’t out of the ordinary until suddenly they heard yelling from another table.

"Leave me alone!" The voice yelled, normally Natasha would ignore it but when the voice belonged to her little sister, her head snapped to the source.

The cafeteria was silence, some whispers could be heard. The cheerleader table fell into a hushed giggling, occasionally glancing at Y/n's table. Natasha narrowed her eyes slightly and returned her gaze to Y/n. She could see Shannon Carter sitting at the same table with her, wait are they friends or...??

"Was that Y/n?" She heard Clint's voice.

Y/n was quickly got up from her seat, feeling uncomfortable at the amount of eyes on her. She was in the verge of tears, but manages to hold it through until she was out of sight. Natasha quickly got up from her seat, which caught the attention of the rest of the group.

"Where are you going??" Carol asked.

"I'm just gonna check up on my sister." Her friends simply nod, knowing how protective Natasha is over her family.

Natasha made a note to slow her walk as she passed the cheerleader table, with her perceptive ear she manages to caught a few sentence. "She's probably so poor, that's why she has no other clothes to wear." She heard Shannon said. Fashion police much? Especially when she dresses like a basic bitch-

"Maybe it's vintage." She heard Wanda responded with a little bit of an attitude. Wanda notices Natasha passing by and greeted her, only for Natasha to glare and ignore her. She may like Wanda, but no one messes with her little sister.

She navigates her way through the hallway, trying to find Y/n. Damn it where is she?

Think, Natasha, think! Where would she go?

She trusted her instinct and it led her to the music room, surely enough, someone was playing the piano. Natasha peeked through the window and saw a glimpse of a familiar y/h/c hair, she opened the door and her sister was slightly alarmed, but ultimately let out a sigh of relief upon noticing it was only Natasha.

"Hey Nat."

Natasha gently smiled and took a seat beside her. Y/n's hand danced on the keys gracefully, filling the room with soft tunes.

"You wanna tell me what happened?"

Y/n shook her head, and Natasha didn't budged. Natasha simply let her head rest on Y/n's shoulder listening to her play. Y/n finishes and started to play another piece, one that was special to them. Natasha recognize the song as soon as Y/n played the intro. 'Love of my life' by Queen.

"Mom would be proud of you." Natasha said in a soft tone.

Y/n didn't answer, yet she had a soft smile on her face as she played the piano. Their mother used to play this song when they were younger. Natasha, Yelena, and Y/n would huddle around her and watched as their mother skillfully moved her fingers across the keys. They would fight over who could play the piano first, as they all wanted to be as skilled as their mother.

But ultimately, Y/n was the only one who inherited her talents. They didn’t talk and only enjoyed the soft tunes of from the piano for a little while, with Natasha occasionally humming to the lyrics.

When the song ended, the room was filled with silence. After a few moments, Y/n finally spoke up. “I don’t… Feel like going back today.”

Natasha nodded, she knew Y/n had meant the orphanage. They refused to call that dump a home. That orphanage shouldn’t even exist in the first place.

“You want to crash at Clint’s?”

“I’m not that close with him, beside, I kinda feel bad to his parents.”

“I’m sure it’ll be alright, you want me to ask him?”

Y/n nodded and let out the breath she was holding, one less thing to worry about. “I didn’t mean to make a scene, they just went too far today.”

Natasha’s eyes shifted in confusion, she lift up her head that was resting on her sister’s shoulder to face her. “What do you mean?”

“They kept teasing me about the sweater, cause I kept wearing it almost everyday.”

“Well they should mind their own business.” Natasha said with a slight venom in her voice.

“It’s ok, I’m used to it. It’s just because It’s mom’s y’know?”

Wait… “What? What do you mean by used to it??”

“I mean, it’s not a big deal-“

“No.” Natasha said firmly and turned to face Y/n fully. “No, it is a big deal. You’re telling me they’ve been bullying you?”

The younger Romanoff sighed, “You could call it that. But they never went as far as teasing, Nat. It’s fine.” Y/n knew how over protective her big sister could be.

In the Red Room, Natasha would not hesitate to punch someone if they messed with Y/n or Yelena. The other girls at the orphanage was afraid of Natasha because of it. As much as Y/n appreciates it, she didn’t exactly wanted to be known only as Natasha’s puny little sister.

Especially now that she’s in high school, where she could make a name for herself. Unfortunately high school stereotypes chooses you, not the other way around.

“Please just don't make a fuss about it.” Y/n said, hoping to change the subject but to no avail. Natasha was stubborn.

“It was Shannon Carter wasn’t it? I saw her sitting next to you before you left.” Oh well rest in peace Shannon. No point in trying to cover her fake ass now-

“If I say yes will you promise not to do anything?” Natasha gritted her teeth, she was about to protest but Y/n cut her off. “Nat, I'm being serious. I really, REALLY, just want to stay out of drama. Living in the orphanage is already hell, I don't need the teasing to go further because they know I'm your little sister."

Shannon better thank the gods because if not for Y/n, she would've need to book a plastic surgery appointment. Natasha reluctantly agreed to drop the subject. What matters now is cheering up Y/n.

An idea popped up in her head and Natasha playfully bumped their shoulders, "Hey, you wanna skip school?" She asked with a smirk.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows, "Wouldn't we get in trouble?"

"Only if you get caught. Come on! I'm pretty sure Yelena's skipping too." It took a while to convince the younger Romanoff, but eventually they were out of the school's boundaries in no time. It was kind of embarrassing that her first time skipping school was with her big sisters, but nevertheless, Y/n thought it was fun.

And she wouldn't want it any other way.

Three days later, Natasha had been trying to avoid Wanda and her cheer squad. Because if she didn't, she would've probably punch Shannon Carter straight in the face. Unfortunately for her, fate wasn't exactly on her side.

While Natasha was opening her locker, Wanda approached her with that adorable smile. "Hey." Wanda greeted her shyly. It was strange really, the girl was different when she wasn't around her friends. Natasha found it rather adorable to see this other side of Wanda.

"Hi." Natasha responded with a kind smile, ok she may be a little upset at Wanda. But really, can you blame her? Wanda's extremely cute.

"Uh... I was just wondering if you wanted to go somewhere after practice, maybe get some food or whatever?" Wanda asked with hopeful eyes.

Natasha desperately wanted to say no. Mainly because she didn't want to associate with people who are friends with her sister's bully, unfortunately she is merely a teenager with raging hormones. "Yeah, sure."

Wanda then beamed in delight, "Ok! So uh, I'll see you then." They both then went to their respective class, both with a smile on their face.

Practice was hell that day, I mean fuck, she gets that competition was around the corner but today's drill was insane. At this point, Natasha thinks their coach is just trying to kill them. Thankfully they were done for the day and she's got a date with a hot cheer captain.

Natasha finishes up in the locker room with the other softball girls, they had to change rather quickly as they shared the locker room with the cheerleaders. Though they didn't mind sharing, it just gets a little crowded. Natasha felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to be greeted by those beautiful green eyes.

"Hey! I won't take long. Meet you outside?" Wanda asked.

Natasha nods, "Sure, I'm just finishing up. Text me when you're done." She responded rather shyly, only Wanda Maximoff could make her all fuzzy feeling.

Wanda smiled at her and returned to her place with her friends. Natasha went back to packing up the last of her equipments. Pants, towel, glove, and- shit where's my shoes?

"Did you guys see Y/n today?" Natasha tensed the moment she heard Shannon's voice.

"About time she wash that sweater." Another cheerleader said.

"Honestly, I bet it smells so bad." Sharron giggles. "It's not like her taste got any better, all of her clothes looked worn down."

"Guys stop it." Wanda said, gaining attention from her friends. Oh ok good to know she wasn't- "It's called being indie." Fucking hell, Natasha clenched her jaw. Trying to hide her disappointment.

The girls giggled and another one spoke up, "Does her parents not love her enough to buy her new clothes."

"I heard her parents died."

"If I was her mother, I would've killed myself too-" Sharron was quickly slammed against the locker by none other than Natasha Romanoff. Causing all the girls to look at her in shock. "What the fu-"

Natasha couldn't contain her anger and gave her another rough shoved, she didn't care that Wanda was witnessing the whole confrontation. "Go on. What else do you have to say, Carter?"

Sharron was lost for words, she could barely utter a word. "I-"

"What more do you have to say about my sister?" Shit.

"S-Sister?" Sharron manages to ask.

"If you so much as glance at her I won't hesitate to permanently damage your face. Got it?" Sharron didn't need to be told twice. The venom in Natasha's voice scared her to her core. She nodded frantically. "Same goes for the rest of you." That was all that Natasha said before hastily taking her leave.

The audacity of these girls.

Natasha stomps her way out of the locker room. She was filled with too much anger and disappointment. One, they insulted her sister. Two, they brought up her parents as well. And three, the fact that Wanda was no better than them. Her friend, her best friend, one she had a crush on, and maybe even love. Was a down right bitc-

"Natasha wait!" Speak of the devil.

Natasha tried to ignore her and made her way out of the school through the field. Wanda manages to catch up to her and pulled her to a stop. Yet Natasha pulled her hand away just as quick, it tore Wanda's heart. "What the hell do you want?!"

"Natasha please, I- I didn't know Y/n was your sister-" Wanda tried to reason. That made her furious.

"And if she wasn't, would it make in any better to bully someone?" Natasha asked. "Just- Leave me alone. I don't want to associate myself with someone like you." Natasha spat.

Wanda knew she was wrong, there's no denying that. But she didn't want to lose Natasha, her best friend. "Tasha, wait please just listen!"

"I have nothing more to say." Natasha started walking away again towards the parking lot, and she made it clear nothing Wanda had to say would make her listen. So, Wanda ran to stand in front of her to stop her track. Guilt smeared across her face.

"Look, I'm sorry. I really am!" She pleaded.

"I'm not the one you owe an apology too."

"I will, I promise. I just- I don't want to lose our friendship..."

Neither did Natasha. She genuinely liked Wanda, their friendship, and... well, Wanda. But nobody messes with her family. "You did that when you bullied my sister."

Wanda tried to defend herself, because yes she maybe have joined the conversation with her friends just to stay on topic, but she never actually teased Y/n. She never outright bullied her, or corner her in the bathroom. All she did was chime in here and there when their friends talked shit about other people. It doesn't make it any better, In any way It was pathetic.

But can you really blame her? She was merely a teenager trying to fit in.

Before Wanda could even explain herself, Natasha held up her hand to stop her. "Safe it. I don't ever want to speak to you."

"No... No, please. Natasha just listen-" Wanda was cut off by a honk of a car. They glanced to see Clint in a car with the window's down.

"Come on, lovebirds! I'm your chauffeur for the night." He clearly missed out on a few episodes.

Natasha quickly approached the car and got into the passenger seat. "Just drive, Clint. Date's canceled."

One of the things Natasha appreciates from Clint is that he understood her better than anyone. And seeing Natasha's distressed face, he drove out of the parking lot without another word. He gave Wanda a quick look of apology before rolling up his window.

Wanda watched as Clint's car drove out of the school boundaries. She felt sick to her stomach, tears pooling in her eyes. Wanda's heart broke into a million pieces. Not only did Natasha hated her, but she also ruined their friendship.

What can she do to restore it?

Hellooo, sorry this took a whilee. I've had many projects to do it makes my brain dead to write anything. Anyway I hope you enjoy this one! I'm planning to make a part 2, hopefully their relationship is not doomed😩

[marvelobsessed134]

Young, and dumb

Step sister!Natasha Romanoff x Bimbo!reader

Warnings: Nat has a dick, top!nat, sub!reader, stepcest, kind of the plot of a stereotypical porno lol, oral (N Recieving)

Summary: You walk in on Natasha

Natasha knows not to look at you in any other way than a step sister. But, she can’t help it when you walk around in short skirts and low cut tops exposing your cleavage. The way you wear only a bikini top and short shorts in the summer. She can’t ignore the fact you make her hard.

It’s not fucking fair. Why did her dad have to marry your mom? Now it’s forbidden to look at you in any other way. But she’s stopped caring.

She knows you look at her too. Especially when she’s working out in nothing but her shorts and muscle tanks. She knows you lick your lips at her crotch because you can clearly see she’s packing.

And now she lays down on her bed, cock in hand as she strokes it, using her precum as lube. She’s alone, or so she thinks.

Natasha was interrupted when you walked into her room. “Natty? Have you seen my-“ you cut yourself off when you saw the view in front of you. Your step sibling with her large, hard, cock in her hand, her drawstring shorts hanging low on her hips, her abs on perfect display.

Nat quickly went to cover her cock with a pillow, sitting up straight. “Shit, I didn’t know you were home.”

Your pussy was dampening from the sight. “No, it’s ok. I was just wondering if you’ve seen my new bikini? I was supposed to go to Wanda’s later today to go swimming.”

Thoughts of you in that bikini swarmed her mind. “No, I haven’t seen it anywhere.”

“Alright. Hey, are you ok?”

The redheads eyes widened. “Uh, yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I walked in on you jerking off. Im sorry.” Your apology was so genuine.

“No, it’s ok. I’m fine.” She tried to not look you up and down. You wearing short denim shorts and a tight blue tank top that showed off your curves perfectly. And the trashy Smokey eye you wore that she desperately wanted to ruin.

“It’s not. Your cock is still hard. I gave you blue balls! I have to fix it!” You we’re rushing over to her bed in an instant, crawling up towards her legs.

“No, no. You really don’t have to.”

You took the pillow off and wrapped your hand around her cock. “No, I should. Since it’s my fault.” And you licked it up, lightly giving kitten licks to the head, before sinking your mouth down her length.

“Fuck.” She hissed, bucking her hips into your mouth.

“Where’d you learn to suck like this? Fucking hell.” You bobbed your head up and down, wetting it with your saliva.

You took her dick out of your mouth with a loud pop, and smiled. “I love to suck dick.”

“Yeah? You love sucking dick? Then keep going. Make me cum.” And so, you continued to suck her off. Her hand gripped your hair harder and harder as she came closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh fuck baby. Come on, make me cum like a good girl.”

You gagged, choked, and spit on her cock and she released her load down your throat. “Ohhhh fuck. Fucking yes. So pretty, swallow that cum babe.” And like the good girl you were, you swallowed all her cum.

You looked up and her and smiled, “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“Yeah? Well I’ve always wanted my dick sucked by a sexy little thing like you. Now give me that pussy.”

[seduzist]

young and beautiful

chapter one.

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

cw: age gap, smut, forbidden love, underage kissing and touching,underage drinking, just the first chapter so don’t expect much.

masterlist. chapter two.

you didn´t even fully unpacked your bags before wanda calls you, asking you to come to her house as soon as humanly possible, which you happily did, running as fast as you could, seeing her by the garden waiting for you with open arms, you huggged her tightly and you both talked about how you missed each other.

when pietro comes out of her house, smiling, you hugged him too, only then realizing how the boy had grown since the last time you saw him, he looked taller and very much stronger, like he had worked out every day for a whole year, about to debut on a new teen superhero movie.

''damn, pietro...'' you touched his arms out of surprise and he smiled shyly with his cheeks red, after all he was still just a boy.

when you entered the house, following the siblings, you found it just as you remembered, wanda took your hand, leading you to the kitchen to see her mother, who smiles brightly and told you to take a sit, that lunch was almost ready.

''hi, y/n.'' her aunt, natasha, caught your attention with her sultry voice.

natasha had been your first platonic love, you didn’t even knew what you felt, but her presence intrigued and intimidated you, when you realized that what you felt was a crush, on a woman, many things changed, but you presumed that was on the past, you weren’t a little girl anymore, blushing when your best friend’s aunt gave you any sort of attention, no, you were almost an adult and knew that she was way too old and out of reach to you.

but knowing those things didn’t stop your cheeks for reddening up and your voice of becoming shy, noticing her hair grew a few inches longer and now she had some locks died white, she looked even prettier that you remembered, using her characteristic braids.

“hi, n-nat…” oh god i really had to stutter? you thought, but that was unnoticed by everyone and natasha just gave you a warm smile.

you spend the rest of your day telling wanda about the news in your life and listening about hers, by night, you watched “the notebook” in her laptop just like the old times.

when the movie ended and you wiped your tears, you noticed wanda was already dead asleep, so you adjusted her body better on the bed and closed her laptop, getting ready to leave and go to your grandma’s. you could spend the night there but pietro always snores in the next room and interrupts your sleep, you’ve learned this a lot of summers ago. you smile at the thought of being so intimate with them, feeling lucky for having this kind of relationship in your life, they’re like family to you.

when you were passing through her garden, you saw natasha on a sun lounger, glass of wine in her hand while she notices you, you heart beats faster with her look, maybe you were still a kid after all.

“hey, y/n/n, you’re going?” you approached her, giving slow steps, unsure if you should gave her the explanation or just wave goodbye.

“yes, i would stay but… pietro snores.” you said nervously and she laughed, shaking her head yes.

“he does… you wanna join me?” she offers the glass to you, and you smell the fine wine.

“i’m seventeen…”

“oh, it’s fine, you’re not a small town girl, i bet you drink with your friends in your city all of the time, right? i won’t tell if you don’t.” you pondered for a second, that wasn’t a lie, you’ve drunk a lot of times before, and you had to be out of your mind to deny some alone time with the woman of your dreams, so you sat next to her, accepting the wine and taking a sip.

after that, you didn’t even could remember what did you guys talked about, maybe it was about how pretty the moon was that night, maybe it was about the fine wine you were drinking that tasted just like every other wine but natasha insisted that was better, maybe it was your friendship with wanda and pietro but, you spent the next 40minutes drinking and talking with her, and adult talk, no bullshits like how’s school going came out of her mouth, and you felt for a second or two that you had a chance with her.

when natasha drove you home - which she insisted - you were drunk and messy, but she was still sober and talking to you the whole time.

“you know pietro likes you, right?” she asked, just a few seconds after parking.

you looked at her like she was crazy, pietro was like your little brother.

“what? no! no way, he’s like a brother to me.” your voice was a little altered but you didn’t even notice, the alcohol in your brain couldn’t let you.

“he does, he worked out the entire year just to impress you…” this caught you completely off guard and you needed a moment to process this, which must have lasted a few minutes because natasha cuts off the silence. “do you like him? or… you have a boyfriend in your city?” there was something different in her voice, a different type of interest.

“i don’t have anyone.” you answered, looking into her eyes and watching a smile form into her lips, suddenly, a wave of courage came into you. “i.. i like someone, actually.”

“yeah? who?”

“uhm… it’s dumb, they’re older and probably thinks i’m just a stupid kiddo.” you were still with your eyes locked in hers, and by the time you both knew what’s the subject.

“maybe you have to tell them, so you’ll know how they feel about you.” natasha was having way too much fun at this flirt little game with her niece’s friend, it made her feel like a teenager again, and god, she missed this.

at this point you weren’t thinking about your perfect friendship with wanda or about natasha’s age, you couldn’t even mind if you looked stupid and pathetic for her, you were just too focused and involved to even care.

“how do you feel about me, natasha?” her name rolled off your tongue so softly, and in seconds she was mesmerized, the confident drunk girl that was in front of her, with your glassy eyes looking up and your dress - that was already short - hiked up your thighs, barely covering anything, couldn’t be the little girl she saw playing with her niece in the lake a few years ago, no, you weren’t a girl anymore, you were a woman - she told herself.

“i feel like i really want to kiss you… but i won’t, unless you ask me to.” her lowly voice sounded like angels sound to you, and without a second thought you took impulse with your body, getting up in the car and then passing your leg through her thighs, suddenly straddling her lap with your faces so close that you could feel her breath heavy on your cheek. “god…”

that’s all natasha managed to say before you lock your lips in hers, sharing the taste of the wine, letting your tongue explore her mouth, too focused on the feeling to even realize that this moment was really happening.

her warm hands caressed your thighs, going up to your waist, and when she bit your lip you almost rode her thigh involuntarily, but you didn’t, instead, you just touched every part of her that your hands could reach, her hands, her arms, her shoulders, her neck, her hair, it was like you just needed to touch her, and you felt she thought the same about you, when her hand reached under your dress.

“natasha…” you pulled out of the kiss, breathless and nervous, but not regretful. “i’ve never done that.” you smiled, thinking she would be happy to be your first.

“with a woman? or… with anyone?” when you confirmed to her you were a virgin, suddenly she sounded guilty and her hand got back at your thigh. “i can’t do it… you’re drunk… i’m sorry.”

she kept saying about how this was wrong and how she could never make a special girl like you losing your virginity like this, it made you sad because you wanted to, but you also thought about how gentle and respectful she was.

but you begged her to do something, anything, to relieve your feeling down there, needing her, anything more than just a kiss, just to keep touching you. your pleads sounded so needy, your doe eyes, impossible to resist, you innocence and yet your desperation made you look so cute to her eyes, and in a second her hand found the hem of your dress, pulling it down, revealing your breasts.

that was the moment you saw her eyes brightened as she stares at your chest hungrily, whispering how beautiful you were before closing her mouth around of your nipples. you tugged her hair, surprised by how sensitive you were, your hips rolled on her thigh, creating a friction at your clit, wasn’t the ideal, but felt good.

“you taste so good, i can’t believe i’m doing this with you.” she said, muffled by your skin. she couldn’t believe it? you couldn’t believe it! that was the most impossible thing you could think of, that was like imagining your life if everything was different, this was like daydreaming at a boring class, that wasn’t the type of thing that happens in reality, but it did.

you entered home with your panties dripping that night, with your sandals in your left hand and with your mind on what happened, knowing that your whole life would change forever the next day, because something that doesn’t happen, happened to you.

[buckyshoneybunny]

Their Babydoll

WinterWidow + Shy!Stark!Curvy!reader 

Summary- Bucky and Natasha take a liking to the shy designer. 

W.C.- 2212 

Warnings- Smut, fluff, cursing, unprotected sex, oral (fem, reader), cum eating, let me know if I missed anything. 

A/N- I hope you guys like! Sorry if the smut sucks, I was tired lol. I know these fics are usually Bucky x Reader x Steve but I would want Nat more. Anyway I already have an idea for a new series and it includes Biker Bucky! Not proof read, all mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy it my lovelies!  

Masterlist 

“Please Uncle Tony!” You beg for the hundredth time.  

“No,” he says, not even looking up from the device he was tweaking.  

“But-” 

“No,” he interrupts you.  

You stick your bottom lip out and give your best puppy eyes. It would always work when you were younger. Now though? 

“No”  

You groan and cross your arms. You smile to yourself. “You know, Aunt Pepper has been wondering what happened to her-” 

“Okay! Okay,” he sighs and pushes the protective glasses further up his nose as he looks at you. “There’s no need to bring Pepper into this.” 

You giggle and lean your hip against the table he’s working at. “You always were afraid of Aunt Pepper.” 

“I’m not afraid of her,” he huffs. “I just happen to have a healthy amount of respect for her.”  

“You’re afraid of her, Tony,” Bruce pipes up from across the lab.  

You giggle as Tony sends you and Bruce a glare.  

“Why do you even want to use the holographic interfaces?” Tony asks. 

“Because it would make designing floor plans so much easier! Using your tech would help me with the critical parts of my job.”  

“But you don’t even know how to use them.” 

“You could teach me.” 

“But I don’t hav-” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he huffs.  

You squeal and hug him. “Thank you, Uncle Tony!”  

He pats your arm, “Yeah yeah.” 

Most people didn’t know Tony had a sister; hell no one knew he actually had any siblings until you showed up with your stuff one rainy day. 

Freshly 19 and ready to make a name for yourself in the world of Interior Design, you’d moved to New York thinking this was the best place to do so. 

Your mother, Tony’s younger sister only by a few years, called to express her worry of you moving there and being alone.  

So, Tony being the ever so giving person he is, and a few not-so-subtle threats from your mother, told you that you could stay at the Avengers Tower. You were furious, ranting about how you wanted to make it on your own and didn’t need any help. But when he mentioned you’d get to meet and spend time with the Avengers, you quickly got over it. 

You were so excited to meet the Avengers, you’d always had a major crush on Bucky. You even wrote a paper about him for your history class in the 6th grade. His sparkling steel blue eyes taking you captive. You wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through his shoulder length brown hair, hoping it’s as soft as it looks. And you can’t forget those full, pink lips that could make a gal melt like butter on hot asphalt.  

But he was taken, by your second favorite Avenger, Natasha Romanoff. You definitely had a girl crush on her. She was so strong and skilled, every womans idol. She was the reason you tried and failed at learning how to fight. So what if you were thicker than the other girls? Yeah okay, you had thick thighs, a pudgy, soft stomach and flabby arms, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t learn some moves like the other girls. To be fair though, that instructor was a womanizer. 

He said, and I quote, that you’d ‘never make it anywhere in life looking like that’. Boy did you prove him wrong. You were one of the best Interior Designers in New York, you had a special touch that other designers didn’t have. And you loved your job, you loved bringing peoples dreams to life and seeing the joy on their face.  

You enjoyed it, but it wasn’t always easy. The meticulous planning, writing up contracts, getting a crew for certain aspects in and out on time could be grueling at times, but seeing the looks on your client’s faces when they’d see the finished product was always worth it.  

You had been worried when you first got to the Tower, worried the other Avengers wouldn’t like you. It was all for nothing though because they absolutely loved you, you were a part of their dysfunctional family now and they had no plans of letting you go. Everyone had really taken a liking to you, especially Bucky and Natasha. 

When you introduced yourself to them with your cheeks flushed, hands nervously fidgeting behind your back, and your shy little voice, it made Natasha want to wrap her arms around you and protect you from the world.  

But, on the other hand, seeing your long thick thighs on display, juicy ass just barely covered by the shorts you wore, and your tank top that hugged your curves just right made her’s and Bucky’s mouths water. That body paired with your shy, innocent demeanor made them want to swallow you whole. 

They had been happy just the two of them, rekindling their love once they both were free. They never thought about having someone else in their relationship, never wanted anyone else, until you.  

One knowing look and desire fill conversation later they knew they had to have you. They just had to be careful so they wouldn’t scare you away, and make sure Tony didn’t find out and do something crazy. He was very protective of you. 

So, the next couple of years were spent with heated looks, lingering touches, and subtle hints thrown at you that you never seem to catch. They were tired of this game of chase, frustrated and on a level of horny so high that they couldn’t fuck down no matter how hard they tried. Bucky was this close to fucking up against the closest wall, Natasha not far behind. But they’d soon get what they longed for.  

You studied your reflection in the mirror again. The thin strapped, black dress that stopped mid-thigh, and had a slit going up your left thigh, hugged your body perfectly. You wouldn’t normally wear something so revealing but Wanda said this dress was perfect.  

She’d said you’d definitely be getting fucked tonight. She may or may not have read Bucky and Natasha’s minds and knew this dress would make them lose it.  

Tonight was Sam’s birthday party, although his birthday wasn’t for two more days, he’d be in Louisiana visiting his sister so Steve wanted to throw him a party before he left.  

Making sure your curls were perfect, you sprayed on some perfume and put some black heels on and headed down to the floor the party was being held at. 

Natasha and Bucky were sat at the bar area, formulating a plan on how to make you theirs. Natasha wore an off the shoulder, floor length, blood red dress that fit her just right, with matching lipstick and heels.  

Bucky had a tailor-made, black suit that showed his defined muscles. His face clean-shaven, displaying his sharp jaw and his hair tied back in that low, sexy bun he’s always sporting.  

Natasha was the first to see you, choking on her drink as she takes you in, causing Bucky to follow her line of sight. His cock rock hard instantly. She bit her lip and one shared glance; they knew tonight was the night and they had just the plan to do it. 

You lock eyes with Natasha and she beckons you over.  

“Look at you, firefly,” she grins and you blush.  

Bucky whistles and looks you up and down. “You’d give poor old Steve a heart attack in that dress, doll. You look amazing.”  

“You think so?” You shyly ask. 

“Definitely,” Natasha adds.  

You begrudgingly do a shot with them after the persisted you do at least one to help loosen you up, even though they knew you didn’t like alcohol. They didn’t leave your side the rest of the night, not that you minded, you loved being the center of their attention. They were waiting for the perfect moment to sneak you away, that moment came after the cake and presents, everyone having gone back to drinking and dancing.  

Natasha loops her arm with yours. “So, firefly,” she smirks. “Me and Bucky were thinking of changing up our room, think you could help us?” There a devious sparkle in her eyes that you miss. 

Your eyes light up. “Yes!” You smile.  

They lead you away from the party and up to their room. Once inside Bucky locks the door. You look around as Natasha comes up behind you and puts her hands on your waist. She runs her nose up the side of your neck, taking in the scent of your perfume. You freeze. 

“Nat?” You ask on a shaky whisper.  

“Yes, firefly?” She nibbles on your ear, causing you to shudder. 

Bucky stands in front of you and cups your face, tilting your head to make you look at him. His lips inches from yours. Your follow-up question gets stuck in your throat. 

“Do you know,” Bucky starts, leaning forward to nudge his nose with yours. 

“How long we’ve been waiting for you?” Natasha finishes, kissing your shoulder. 

“What?” You ask through the already forming fog in your brain. 

“We want you, firefly. Will you let us have you?” She slides her hands up to just under your boobs, waiting for your consent. You whimper and nod. 

“Words doll,” Bucky says. 

“Yes,” you whisper breathlessly.  

Bucky smashes his lips to yours as Natasha cups your boobs, squeezing them. You moan and grab Bucky’s forearms.  

He steps back and takes his suit jacket off, instructing Nat to take your dress off. She slowly unzips the dress and pushes the straps off your shoulders. It gets bunched around your middle, you blush, insecurities sneaking up on you. She just pushes it the rest of the way down. 

Your hands itch to cover yourself but stop when Bucky lets out a deep groan. He whispers a fuck and reaches down to squeeze his throbbing cock. You let out a whine. 

“Get on the bed and spread those gorgeous thighs, doll,” he rasps. His eyes black with lust. Your bra and panties come off and you get on the bed, laying on your back and shyly spreading your thighs.  

Natasha moans. “Look at her Buck.” He hums and pushes the straps of her dress off her shoulder, revealing she had nothing on underneath. He groans and kisses her; she unbuttons his shirt. You whine, more slick coming out and coating your folds. They break apart and grin. 

While Bucky finishes taking his clothes off, Natasha comes beside you and starts to play with your breasts, pinching and tugging your nipples causing you to moan. Bucky, now naked, kneels between your legs, taking in the sight of your soaked pussy.  

“Already so wet and we’ve hardly touched you babydoll,” he taunts. You whine, the feeling of his hot breath causing you to shudder. 

“Don’t tease her Buck,” Natasha says as she takes one of your nipples into her mouth.  

She nips lightly at the bud as Bucky presses his tongue to your clit, you let out a high-pitched moan and grip his hair. As she teases your nipples, Bucky eats you out like a starved man, mumbling out how good you taste in between slurps and gasps of breath. 

Bucky can’t handle it anymore and stands up before you can cum. “I gotta be in you, doll, fuck.” He gets in between your legs and lines his leaking tip up with your entrance.  

He slowly slides in and your eyes roll back. He gives you a second once he bottoms out, letting you adjust. Natasha rubs your clit as he starts to move. 

“How does she feel?” She asks 

“S’fucking good, so tight, shit” He groans and pounds into you. 

Natasha oscillates between making out with you and sucking you breasts and leaving hickies. She keeps rubbing your clit. You grip the sheets, panting and moaning. Bucky angles his thrusts just right and you scream as he hits that spot inside of you that causes you to see stars. 

“I-I’m go-....gonna...” You can’t even finish your sentence. 

He speeds up his thrusts, “Cum, doll, soak my cock.” 

Your eyes roll back and your back arches as you squirt, soaking his balls, thighs, and the bed. His hips stutter as he cums unexpectedly, he rides out both of your highs, his cock not softening at all.  

Natasha motions for him to pull, when he does, she immediately gets between your legs and eats you out, moaning at the taste of your slick and Bucky’s cum. He groans and starts to fuck her. 

This goes on for hours, both of them pull orgasms out of you. By the end of it, you lay cuddle between them, exhausted. They say that they want you to be a part of their relationship, you agree, feeling like you’re dreaming. The two people you’ve had the biggest crush on actually wanted you to be with them, you couldn’t have been happier. 

When Tony finds out he whacks both Natasha and Bucky in the back of the head with a rolled-up newspaper. He also now carries a spray bottle with him for when y’all get a little too handsy.  

All in all you’re living your dream and you couldn’t be happier.

[innorogers]

Dusk

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: Wait, WHAT? After everything you’ve been through, you thought he wasn’t serious about you? Oh no, Steve had to make sure you understood how committed he was.

Warning: Angst but then Fluff? / Sad Steve / Angry Steve / Protective Steve / Past Revelations / Hurt & Comfort / Past Trauma / Happy Ending / Comfort Steve / This one is actually funny

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.

1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening

The compound is silent, bathed in the faint silver glow of moonlight filtering through the windows. Soft lights illuminate the hallways, leading the way. Steve’s steps echo through the room as he opens the training room door.

His insomnia hits again, harder and stronger than ever before. The adrenaline runs through his veins. His mind is restless. Burning. And this time, there was no bedtime story that could soothe the pain or anger he was going through. He doesn’t bother with gloves or wraps. He’s too pissed for that, too lost in his thoughts. All he wants to do is hit something.

His fists make contact with the heavy bag, sending it swinging in response. The sound of the impact echoes in the empty room, but it’s not enough. Not even close.

The image of you, standing alone against Frazer, fists clenched, blood dripping between your fingers, glass embedded in your palms. You were fighting back so hard against the control Hydra still held over you with those damn keywords. You were panting, agonizing, trying to survive. And the only thing he could do was watch.

He hits the bag harder, faster. The chains holding it creak from the force.

You were kneeling before a laughing Agent Frazer, desperately looking for the tranquilizer and pressing it into your neck before he could stop you. Before he could do anything. 

Your body going limp in his arms, your eyes closed, and your breath going soft for what felt like an eternity as you slipped away from him.

He growls through gritted teeth, his punches landing with brutal strength.

This… horrendous lab. Children—your siblings—taken. Sacrificed. Experimented on. Killed. Their golden threads snuffed out as you hoped you were helping them. Steve’s heart clenches painfully, his vision narrowing. The memory of your voice, the anguish in it when you told him how you’d watched each of them fade, haunts him. You were forced to be part of it. They lied to you—how could they.

His punches grow more erratic, fueled by the rising storm inside him. Sweat drips from his brow, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down. His knuckles split open, blood streaking the bag, but the pain barely registers. He isn’t stopping. Not until he can soothe these invisible scars in you.

Your soft voice, telling him how you watched helplessly as your siblings died around you. Your power shut down in self-defense, a last-ditch effort to survive the nightmare Hydra forced on you.

Steve clenches his jaw, his breaths coming in ragged gasps now. His fists slam against the bag like hammer strikes.

Each punch is harder, faster, more desperate. He can’t stop. He can’t fight the guilt, the rage, the sorrow. You had been through hell, and he hadn’t been there. He couldn’t protect you. He couldn’t save your siblings. He failed.

Your words, soft and kind despite everything. You caress his cheek, smiling in his arms, trying to comfort him.

"What happened to me isn’t a burden for you to carry, you know that, right?”

His rage peaks, spiraling out of control. He roars in frustration and punches the bag with all the strength he can muster. His fist collides with it, sending shockwaves through the air.

The bag explodes.

The canvas tears apart, sand spilling out in all directions like dust from a broken hourglass. The chains snap, and the bag slams into the floor, rolling limply as Steve stumbles back, chest heaving, fists bleeding.

He stares down at the mess he’s made, panting, his mind racing. But the anger doesn’t fade. It lingers, burning beneath his skin. Cause he knows…no matter how hard he hits, how much he punishes himself, it won’t change what happened to you.

It won’t change a fucking thing. 

Not the fact that he wasn’t there when you needed him most, nor the fact that he failed in the first attempt at eliminating Hydra, or the second. You only escaped because the fucking popsicle machine ran out of power. Tony and Natasha rescued you. He wasn’t there. He doesn’t even remember where the fuck he was.

He drops to his knees, fists still clenched, blood dripping onto the floor. His breathing slows, and the silence creeps back into the room.

Grateful. The word echoes in his mind, like a bitter reminder. You were so grateful, so kind. To be alive. To be here, seeing everything. You loved every breath you took, and you loved him, with every glitter of your own golden thread.

But Steve couldn’t be grateful. Not yet. Not a bit. Not with all the pain, all the suffering, you had endured. 

It’s so fucked up. It’s so wrong. It’s so terribly, terribly wrong. He couldn’t be grateful for something so broken. And he wasn’t going to be. He wasn’t stopping until he crushed the last being on this fucking earth that would hurt you like Agent Frazer. He wasn’t stopping until he’d made sure of that.

"Your girlfriend told me once that we should invent some kind of power-resistant punching bag, especially for you. At least to help with your sleeping issues when it's late, and you'd hang around the campus looking for bags to hit." A voice behind him. Tony leaned against the doorframe, watching him.

"Then one day, she told me that you slept well every night, so maybe you didn’t need them anymore." He chuckled. "I didn’t even know where to start to ask—like, why, when, how’d she know how Steve sleeps? But I didn’t, of course, because she blushed, and I just… didn’t want to tease her."

Steve didn’t turn back. He stayed quiet for a while. "She’s not my girlfriend. I haven’t asked."

"Oh, so… she’s your ‘I’ll make all the best gear for my baby so he won’t get hurt’ genius engineer, and you’re her ‘you touch my girl, and I’ll mash you with the new shield she just made for me' kind of relationship?”

Tony nodded. "And also, you both have this ‘I’d sacrifice myself for you’ vibe that makes you a great couple. I think it’s cute, actually."

Steve sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the couch. "Why are you here, Tony?"

"Maybe you won’t believe it, but I’m here for a friend." Tony sighed and sat next to him, keeping a safe distance, so as not to invade his space. "Just checked on her. Vital signs are fine. Injuries are starting to heal. She’s tough, and you don’t hear it, but… this is nothing compared to how we found her."

"You’re right." Steve frowned, looking down at his knuckles, the bleeding already stopped. "I don’t want to hear it."

They sat in silence for a while until Steve shook his head with a mixture of resignation and frustration.

"Why didn’t I know?"

Tony glanced over at Steve, sympathy softening his usual sharp edges.

“How would you? She never let anyone see the cracks. And that’s something we’ve been working on for the past few years. Hiding her. Blending her in. So no one would noticed, so she could be safe.”

Tony took a breath, weighing his words carefully.

“You’ve only met her due to an unexpected, and beautiful surprise. A sleepless night, I believe?” 

Tony smiled. He pauses for a moment.“She thinks that was a gift, you know? Some kind of universe retribution for all the years of suffering and torture...and…” He patted Steve’s shoulder. “I think that too.”

“If you weren’t with her... what would have happened today?” Tony softened his voice. “If you hadn’t ended Hydra… maybe we’d never have found her, and she would have died... alone, in the dark, frozen, and without knowing that she was meant to be cherished, cared for, or loved. And…”

He glared at Steve as his expression shifted. “And no one would ever know that she even existed. Her siblings gone, all the memories about her would be…nothing, she would have been a file number. Lost within thousands of archives.”

Steve felt his whole body tense as Tony’s words landed. The mere thought of it was like a blast of icy water rushing down his spine, numbing him. A world where you were nothing but a forgotten experiment, a nameless file in some dusty Hydra archives, erased from existence. It twisted something in his chest. 

The image of you dying cold and alone in some abandoned Hydra lab. No one to mourn you, no one to even know that you were gone. No trace left behind. It clawed at him, settling like a vice around his heart, tightening with every beat.

“Stop with this self-pity and self-destruction mode, Steve.” Reading his expression, Tony knew his words had an effect. “It’s in the past. She made it, she survived, and she’s happy. Put yourself together and stop bringing it up in the present.” 

He grunted as he stood up and looked at Captain America with seriousness. “We’ve got a lot of work to do. Someone out there is trying to get and hurt your girl, Cap. Are you going to let them?”

Steve looked at the silent floor and the exploded bags for a while, then nodded. “You’re damn right.” He held Tony’s hand to stand up.

“Yup, I always am.” Tony smirked at him. “Go and get some sleep because tomorrow…” He clicked his tongue. “We have a briefing meeting since Nat is going to spend the night interrogating this guys and probably... you know, just a little bit of tango. Then analysis with Hill—shit, I shouldn’t have accepted that—and we have only 1,278 security protocols to discuss if you and your ‘not-my-girlfriend’ are going public or whatever.”

“And…” Tony raised an eyebrow at him. “Clean up this fucking mess, Steve, this is a 12 million training room for gods’ sake.”

Steve chuckled reluctantly. “Fine.” As he started tidying up the debris, he muttered: “This thing today, this agent, was straight after her.”

Tony was already at the door when he turned back. “Clearly. But I’m not gonna discuss this with you now at…” He looked at his watch. “3:22. My brain’s checked out. Unless it’s another half-the-universe-disappearing disaster, we’ve got this under control.”

Steve nodded, the weight of Tony's words settling into him. But it was more than that—your words still echoed louder. The reminder of how you wanted to move forward, how much you needed new memories. He knew Tony was right, but you... you were the one who truly brought him back from the edge. He inhaled deep, and started to pick up the mess he made.

“This is the weirdest shit I’ve ever seen…” says a cross-armed Sam, standing in front of a glass wall, observing a room filled with white lab coat experts. Led by the only two people wearing regular shirts: Tony and Bruce.

“That’s because you’re not a regular on this side of the compound.” Natasha tilts her head towards the unified silence and the steady room full of geniuses. “This is just… a normal Tuesday.”

“They haven’t moved for 15 minutes!” Sam says with an incredulous look. “You can’t tell me this is normal. Look at Bruce, he’s not even blinking.”

Both Maria and Natasha chuckled before Commander Hill explained, “Their brains are working. They’re deciphering that code.” She gestured toward the screen displaying the tangled mess of numbers and symbols. “Until they crack it, they won’t move.”

“If you turn on the neuro-transmission scan right now...” Natasha grinned, “it’s like the Fourth of July in there.”

“So, what exactly are they doing?” Sam considered turning on the scan just to see what was happening inside their heads.

“The guy that attacked us yesterday had this retinal lens used as spyware; it was transmitting everything he saw. We cracked the code and followed it to the hub where it was connected and transmitting data,” Hill finished her coffee and said, “And of course, it’s encrypted. There’s the source code…” She gestures towards the huge screen filled with numbers and letters that reads as Asgardian to Sam.

“That’s… one code?” Sam is shocked. “How’d they look if there were ten?”

“Technically… that’s one piece of the code. Not the complete…” Natasha begins to explain, then gives up. “Never mind.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if we just… asked the dude?”

“I did. And… it got messy…” Black Widow answers as she pours some coffee and hands another mug to the Commander, which she accepts gratefully.

“You killed him?! Are we allowed to do that?” Sam’s eyes widen, not entirely in disaproval.

“No! Of course not!” Natasha thinks about it for a second, then replies, “No. We can’t do that.” Although Steve would’ve loved to. She pauses. “He got, um… it looks like his brain was programmed. After he woke up, he was entirely a different person. He didn’t remember anything. He was… is, actually, Charles Frazer. A normal MI6 agent who lives in London with a beautiful family and was sent here to respect the New Era Project. He doesn’t remember anything from yesterday.”

“What?” The Falcon is stunned. “Can they do that now? Program someone’s brain?!”

“We talk to a tree that calls a raccoon his father, so…” Hill comments without taking her eyes off the screens.

“And the raccoon shoots big guns.” Natasha adds, as if that’s a valid point. “Well… the thing is, we don’t know when this programming thing happened. Has he always been like this? A spy with sleeper cells that suddenly woke up? Is he really a normal agent who underwent modification just before coming here? We’re doing a lot of background checks, but this guy is… immaculate. Clean. Like this glass.”

“That’s… even more suspicious.” Sam frowns. “But Dr. Lancaster said he looked just like her brother, and… I’ve seen the files. He does look like Four. It can’t be a coincidence.”

“Probably his face was altered too. We just have to figure out when.”

“In any case, I don’t think the guy is normal.” Shaking his head, the Falcon isn’t buying it for a second. “No regular person takes a punch like that from Cap and wakes up. I thought the dude’s skull was broken.”

“Where are they, anyway?” Natasha starts typing on the screen. “I think Steve should be part of this conversation. Where is he? Making the windows foggy?”

“Unfortunately, no,” says Steve as he walks into the room, resignation in his voice, though his steps are steady and recovered. “She’s in R&D3 already. Back to work.”

He shakes his head. There was no way you’d go home and rest after being discharged, and honestly, he wasn’t comfortable leaving you alone. So, the best place for you (after promising for the 26th time you wouldn’t do any heavy work) was a lab full of people where you could put your mind elsewhere.

“As we all should.” Natasha raises an eyebrow at Steve. “No one here can afford to be a porcelain doll, y’know?” She’s not easy to break and far from being easily corrupted. She doesn’t say it, but her expression makes it clear.

“I know.” Steve nods with a serious expression. Yesterday, you had shown remarkable strength, remaining composed even when restlessness set in.

“Since we’re on the same page…” Commander Hill approaches the table and leans with a professional smile. She really doesn’t have time to waste. “We need to talk about the 1,278 security protocols that Stark wanted me to discuss with you.”

“Ugh,” Steve says with irritation. But then, this is your security they’re talking about, so he surrenders. “Fine.”

You didn’t know about the struggles Steve was going through as he listened to the extensive, detailed, laser-focused report Maria was giving him regarding ‘how many scans people had to pass just to approach you or your lab’ or ‘the perfect plan for your girlfriend to walk through the campus with you holding hands without being posted on social media’.

No, you were in another state of pink haze because the man you loved had said, “I love you.”

Ahh, the sky was blue, the clouds were like cotton candy (not that you’d know because you’d never tasted it before), your plants were growing strong, and yes, you had a terrible past. There was this guy who had leaked information to God knows who super dark organization, letting them know you were an ex-Hydra agent blended within the Avengers.

And by the way, that guy looked just like your dead brother and he tried to manipulate you through brainwashing. You had stitches in your knees and arms, and you shot yourself enough tranquilizer to kill a cow…but ha… who gives a shit, the most perfect, gorgeous man has said that he loves you. Like, priorities, right?

“Someone is in a good mood…” Your colleague slash friend Dr. Lin observed you and swirled around in the chair. “Alright, alright, so the mysterious date has become…a boyfriend?”

“Oh no, he is not…” You were caught off guard, and that made you think for a moment.

Wait…

What are the social protocols for calling Steve your boyfriend? Is that something people would assume after some steps of development in their relationship? Or was it a conclusion people would reach after certain premises: like intimacy, living in the same house, or having to face some dude who tried to brainwash you together?

Is it something that you or he would be entitled to call each other after those steps were fulfilled? And also, there’s this thing about… are you the only one? Yes, you live in a society that has historically been monogamous in most cultures. But things are different now. Polygamy is becoming more accepted. You wouldn’t like that, but of course, you couldn’t force him into that. Like, there are gorgeous women around him, that’s true…

“Honey…” Dr. Lin could see the ‘loading…’ sign on your forehead now that you were frozen in thought. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”

“I have some questions, Dr. Lin… no, Robert.” You put the computer in sleep mode and turned around. “Would the fact that he said ‘I love you’ make him my boyfriend?”

“Well… did he introduce you to his friends as his ‘girlfriend’?”

“Um… no.”

“Did you talk about it? Like, in which place are you standing? Or where are you heading?”

“Um…” You looked up as you remembered. “No. But we did talk about ‘making more beautiful memories’ together”.

“Oh shit.” Robert’s face shifted to ‘Gurrlllll…’ He carefully chose his words but wanted to be really clear: “And, uh… did he mention or hint that he wanted to be your boyfriend?”

“Mmm… no.” You shook your head. Not literally, at least.

“And you’re sure there’s no one else in his life?”

“Well. Yeah.” You made an obvious face. It’s not like he has the time; he is with you (or inside you) every night.

“I’m just saying…” Robert raised his hands. “There are a lot of dudes who’ll say anything to keep their bed warm.”

“Well… he is special.” You felt compelled to defend Steve. “He never lies.”

Robert almost choked. “Alright, darling… look, just make sure he’s not just banging you and planning to break your heart, okay? There are a lot of assholes out there, and trust me… you’re like a blank canvas for them, which makes you incredibly hot and attractive, but still… there are a lot of douchebags…”

“Mmm.” You were immersed in your thoughts again, analyzing what Dr. Lin had said, and as your “Loading…” sign appeared on your forehead, Robert just left you to it.

You had this way of getting so lost in your thoughts that the outside world faded away. You operated on autopilot, so you didn’t even realize how you’d gotten up at lunchtime and wandered into the common area where Steve was waiting. You didn’t notice the worried look on his face, nor the glance he exchanged with his teammates when you all sat down at the table, ready for lunch.

‘Ask her if she’s okay.’ Natasha’s eyes silently urged Steve.

‘Of course she’s not okay. After everything she’s been through.’ Steve replied with his glare.

‘Maybe she is just tired?’ Said Maria from the other corner. 

‘She does look sad…or confused.’ Observed Tony too.

‘Can you pass me the salt, please?’ Sam added to the silent conversation.

While the Avengers exchanged silent signals, you made up your mind to ask the questions that had been gnawing at you directly.

“What does it mean when people say that ‘you’re just banging me’?” You turned to Steve and asked.

Natasha spat her water out in Clint’s face, and Sam choked on a peanut.

"And I’m not against polygamy, but I think I’d be better in a monogamous relationship. If… we’re not just ‘banging.’" You nodded, speaking with honesty.

“I…” Steve tried to respond, but was interrupted by the hysterical laughter from Tony and Natasha as they rushed to save Sam from choking. (“Why would you have peanuts at lunchtime?!” Black Widow asked in a mix of laughter and disbelief.) Steve didn't know what to say, but a smile finally spread across his face as he looked at you in awe.

After the nightmare you’d all gone through yesterday, it felt like a lifetime since he’d actually smiled or felt any joy. Yet here you were, as you always are when he’s with you, with your clever, unexpected comebacks that washed away all his anger, anxiety, and rage. And your strange yet brilliant mind made him feel… so happy.

“Babe…” he chuckled, squeezing your hand and using a word he never imagined he’d use: “We’re not just banging…”

“We’re not?” You looked at him, a little confused, noticing his ears turning red. Lowering your voice, you added, “But that’s what we do every night… isn’t it?”

“OMG!” Clint stood up, covering his ears, trying not to burst out laughing. “Dr. Lancaster, may I kindly remind you this is a room full of people with extraordinary powers, including super-sensitive hearing… something we can’t exactly control?”

“Oh.” You blushed slightly, realizing how blunt you’d been, and leaned closer to Steve. “So ‘making love’ would be the right word?”

Steve chuckled as the rest of the team erupted in laughter. He squeezed your hand and smiled. “Yes, honey, that would be correct.” he said, amidst laughs and coughing.

Of course, you weren’t just banging. Steve had made up his mind to ensure you had no doubts about that. After the hilarious, "we'll talk about this for years" lunch, he gathered everything he needed to prove it to you and headed to the lab.

It was well past dinner when he arrived, and the place was empty, the only light coming from your desk. You knew he'd be late, so you waited for him to pick you up.

Leaning against the doorway, Steve watched you quietly for a moment, a soft smile forming on his face. You were completely absorbed in your work, brow furrowed in concentration. He didn’t want to interrupt, captivated by the focus you showed, his heart swelled as he took a few steps toward you.

"Hey… just… one minute…" You noticed his footsteps and quickened your typing. "I’ll wrap this up."

"There’s no rush at all." Steve sat in the chair beside you, smirking, though you didn’t notice, still immersed in your work.

"Just… borrow your hand, please?" he asked softly, knowing you were on autopilot. Without looking away from the screen, you automatically lifted your hand.

You felt something delicate wrap around your ring finger. Glancing up, you saw a slender golden thread circling it, secured by a tiny knot. Your eyes followed the thread as a delicate silver ring slid down, fitting perfectly. Startled, you looked up to see Steve raise his hand, revealing the other end of the thread tied around his own ring finger.

"What… what is this?" you asked softly, surprised.

"Well… I didn’t get the exact ‘sparkling glitter golden thread’ like you described, but… you get the idea." Steve smiled, standing up to kiss the back of your hand. "This is proof that I’m not just banging you, or…" He chuckled, "something that asks if I could bang you for the rest of our lives."

He paused, trying to remember Tony’s exact words.

"And it’s also a 'high-frequency, multi-sensorial ring capable of real-time biometric and geospatial transmission. Embedded with micro-electromechanical systems that continuously monitor and broadcast vital stats—heart rate variability, galvanic skin response, and core temperature—with GPS coordinates. Plus, a predictive analytics algorithm to interpret physiological fluctuations, allowing for real-time detection of anomalies in health and emotional state.'"

"Oh wow…" you breathed, genuinely shocked. "Did you memorize all that?"

Steve laughed and nodded. "Tony insisted you should know exactly what you were wearing."

"Awww, babe…" You couldn’t stop laughing. "This is the most romantic stalker device I've ever had."

He let out a hearty laugh and showed you his ring. "It’s connected to mine," he said, pulling you closer, his hands settling at your waist as he pressed his forehead against yours. "And I used a golden thread—the one that represents life—because you’re my life now."

"Steve…" You gently caressed his face, looking down at your hands, the rings connected by the golden thread. Really in shocked.

"And… you’re sure? Won’t people notice?"

"Trust me, I went through 1,278 protocols before deciding on this. Honestly, I made up my mind long before that. Hill said I could've spared her the torture of explaining all those, and she wanted to punch me right in the face afterward, but…" His voice softened. 

"I don’t want you living in shadows or secrets anymore. I’ll be with you, always, by your side. And…"

"And since whoever our enemy is already knows about me, they’ll think twice before coming after us, seeing that I’m with the Captain of the Avengers." You nodded.

"Yeah, that. But more importantly…" He kissed you softly after laughing. 

"Because I don’t know how to live without you. This ring… it’s just a way of showing how serious I am. How much I love you." 

He smiled suddenly, a memory flashing in his eyes. "Do you remember what you asked me the first day we met?"

"I think so…?" You hesitated, unsure which moment he was referring to. "We talked for like 10 hours that night."

"You asked me, when you added your number to my phone, 'What do you want me to be, for you?' And I answered…"

"‘My Everything,’" you whispered.

"That’s right." He sealed it with a kiss. 

"You are my everything."

You were quiet, and in awe. Just like the night you met him. For so long, you’d been searching, drifting in and out of the shadows, living in the remnants of broken fairy tales. But now, standing here with him, you realized those tales had never really been broken. They’d just been waiting — for this. 

You were no longer lost, no longer broken and sifting through the ashes of old stories. You’ve found this. Your own spectacular fairy tale, and the best part? It’s real. You had been given the right to love, to be loved, to finally be someone’s everything.

And for the first time, you truly believed it.

End

Continue to:

7: Hypnagogia |

8: Lull |

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Divider Credits: to the wonderful @cafekitsune

Andddd I'm sorry I'm posting so late today, but having two full time jobs is hitting really hard, will try to maintain regularity as I can. But its getting hard! Thanks for reading thus far and I hope you enjoyed the chapter, mayb posting a different story next friday ;) See you then!

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim

Love.,

Moon.