#black widow!reader

[gatitties]

Yandere!Bonten x black widow assassin!reader?

Just something that popped into my head, just imagine them in a club. One of them being a target of assassination but your target is the one who tryin to kill them. One second they are surrounded by gurls doing whatever. The next a ceiling from the floor above caves in and you have your target in a hopeless position. You leave with the target apologizing for the mishap!

─Yandere!Bonten x assassin!reader

─Summary: you were just doing your job, you don't need any more trouble chasing you in life

─Warnings: use of weapons, unwarranted obsession, toxic behaviors, yandere stuff

I apologize because I don't know how to describe fight scenes 😩🤚

Part Two / Part Three

You adjusted the belt around your waist, checking the chambers of your ebony and ivory pistols, full ammunition, checking that you had your concealed knives in place, along with the small spray cans and gas mask, you didn't used to have to use these last ones things, but you never know when you need a little help.

You take out your cell phone checking the message from the anonymous person who had hired you this time, one last look at the information you needed to know, you just had to make sure that another assassin did not kill your client's shareholders, although it did not expressly say that you should kill her, but if it was necessary to secure the lives of these men, was something you were going to do. Not for nothing were you quite well known in the underground world where contracts were agreed upon, you did your job quietly, leaving no clues and quite quickly, you offered good service and that's how you earned your living after your parents kicked you out of the house for being a nonsense in your studies, at least, you found a way to earn a living, more or less moral depending on who looks at it.

Usually you would take a more defensive position with a long-range sniper, but today you needed to blend in with the girls in a brothel, so you had to bring out another part of your arsenal, fancy clothes and accessories to your liking to look like someone rich.

It was not difficult to infiltrate as one of the workers, since they did not have a uniform as such, you located the round table of the men you had to protect, observing from afar how they interacted with the different girls who approached like bees to honey, wishing try something from them. You stood next to a guy at another table, following his dirty talk in a careless way while your attention was focused on another girl, you saw how her dress became baggier in certain areas of her body, areas that you recognized well to hide a weapon small caliber, luckily she excused herself to go to the bathroom, immediately forgetting your companion to follow her.

You waited in the restrooms, pretending to touch up your lipstick, you looked sideways when she came out of one of the bathrooms, noticing how the dress adjusted, revealing a knife attached to her thigh, you both exchanged glances, a small silence of tension and out of nowhere the two of you were fighting knife against knife.

"I knew that some whore was going to try to take my job today, those men are mine, I'll be the one to kill them."

She cut you on the cheek and you immediately kicked her, her defensive posture wavered for a few moments but she recovered, the fight reached the second floor where there was no one, since there only had furniture or old things from decor.

"You're wrong, they are not my targets."

You cut her forearm causing her to move back, anticipating her movements you hid behind a sofa, she now pointed her pistol towards your position without being able to hit you, you threw your knife as a distraction to be able to aim with your guns, but the girl reacted quickly at the stimulus, you groaned internally as a bullet grazed your arm but you began to move quickly between the different pieces of furniture.

It was like that for a while, playing tense cat and mouse, you managed to hurt her enough to make her movements much slower, but you needed to make your dominance clear, you took cover behind a pile of stacked boxes, your eyes caught a small crack in the floor, you looked up seeing some old wooden beams, that was it.

You forced the girl out of her hiding place, continuing the fight physically, again wielding bladed weapons, you lured her to the center of the room, managing to kick her to drop her weapons, before she could draw another one, you shot into the rafters and everything fell on top of both of you, the floor collapsed, consequently falling to the first floor, right in front of the table where Bonten observed how two female figures were on top of all that rubble.

The chaos had made the vast majority of people flee, they took their hands to their guns in case something unforeseen happened, however they watched in silence the interaction.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I give up, I'll quit the job, but don't kill me! I just needed the money to get my family up, please! Please…!"

Your finger brushed the trigger of your pistol that was pointed directly at her forehead, you looked at her in silence for a few seconds before slowly lowering the gun, her eyes began to water, and immediately she pushed you to run.

"My mission wasn't to kill you anyway… oh shit!" you brushed off the rubble and dust, looking around as a couple of waitresses looked at you horrified, your breathing calmed once you saw the Bonten executives safe and sound, you didn't think very well that destroying the ceiling could have crushed them, but luckily nothing fell on their table "Ok, job done… sorry for the mess."

As if you had known them all your life, you apologized for a little nonsense, and you were going to leave immediately because you needed a rest and your money, but apparently someone did not have the same thoughts.

"Who the hell are you?"

Sanzu gripped your wrist tightly, glancing at the pistols that were now visible because your clothing had been torn in places, a small smile tugging at his lips at seeing your unfazed gaze.

"It's none of your business."

You tugged at his grip to break free of it, but he tightened it causing a wince on your face, the others slowly approached to your side, Mikey watching silently as your wince turned into one of impatience and disgust.

"It is our business, you have destroyed our brothel."

"And you intend to leave like that as if nothing had happened? It's disrespectful lady."

The Haitani brothers stepped forward, Ran pointing out all the damage from the collapse while Rin crossed his arms, inspecting your face and every detail of it.

"I'm not a lady..." they all began to look at each other, giving you glances from time to time, observing your body and arguing in silence "or am I?"

You raised your leg hitting Sanzu's abdomen, he stepped back as did you, although Kakucho blocked your next attack he couldn't catch you again because he had to dodge one of your hidden blades.

"Catch her!"

"I'm sorry! I have places to be, I hope we don't meet again, maybe it means bad news."

You sprayed them with a shit-eating smile when you saw how they rubbed their eyes trying to hold back the tears from the burning, when they wanted to realize you were already a long way from there, looking for the place where they had hidden the money for the completed order.

"Have you seen her movements, damn, I think I've-"

"Cut it Sanzu, we don't want to know about your sexual fantasies."

"Always so boring Kokonoi."

"Who was her anyway?"

Mochizuki, finished wiping his eyes once they stopped watering, Takeomi answered even though his eyes kept looking at the exit through which you fled.

"She was a contract killer, apparently a good one."

"I want her."

"Huh?"

They all looked at his leader, his gaze of emptiness had a slight glimmer of desire, as if he were a child who had found a better toy than he already had, a new toy to play with and smash. You were good at your job, weren't you? He needed to get rid of a few useless ones, and he wanted you to be the one to do that job.

You unintentionally triggered an obsession in the leader of one of the worst mafias in Tokyo, no matter how slippery you are, no matter how many times you change your identity, nothing matters because now you are something he wants and Mikey always gets what he wants. His obsession with you at first was something that happened as a 'boss whim', however, the more difficult the search for you became, the others also began to become obsessed for no reason.

A long game of cat and mouse awaits you, because now these guys need to know more about you, they need to see you, they need to have you, even though they barely shared a measly moment with you, it was enough to obsess over an image of you that they held within their minds. Do you think you can escape? don't be silly.

#yandere tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers #reader insert #assasing!reader #request #tokyo revenger x reader #fem reader #black widow!reader #x reader #bonten #yandere bonten x reader #yandere bonten #mikey #sanzu #kokonoi #mochizuki #haitani #ran #rin #kakucho #takeomi

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Peter Parker x widow!reader

I'm just imaging Natasha little sister coming to live at Stark tower and Peter falling head over heels

He just strikes me as the type to have a badass girlfriend while he's a softie

a/n: feels an appropriate for this to do a classic flirty sparring fic, don't you think? ♡

word count: 618

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist 

“You’re strong, right?” you nonchalantly asked as you passed Peter in the hallway, not stopping in your stride to wait for his answer. 

Doing a double take, he sputtered, “w-what?”

“Come with me,” you kept your eyes fixed forward as you called back to him, “I need someone to train with.”

“Uh, okay,” you heard his footsteps catch up to yours. 

Readjusting the protective wraps your fists were already enveloped in, you soon rounded the corner into the gym, briefly giving each of your arms a good stretch to each side on your determined stride towards the wide mat in the centre of the room. 

“Alright,” you spun around, gesturing for him to step closer, joining you on the square pad, “no webs or anything,” you rolled your neck, a quiet crack resounding at the stretch, “just some good old fashion one on one, yeah?”

“I really don’t wanna hurt you,” he exhaled lowly as you raised your clenched fists.

“Well, that makes one of us,” you chuckled, not needing any longer before pouncing, landing a swift blow to the side of his jaw, “come on, hit me!”

A grimace briefly blooming from where you struck him, he groaned, “I can’t, I’m sorry, it just feels wrong to hit a girl.”

“Parker,” you rolled your eyes and vocalised the reason for your choice of sparring partner, “I wanted a challenge, so give me a fucking challenge.”

Your leg arced all the way up to his shoulder, though your foot barely even managed a tap him before he had somehow twisted you down onto the floor, overpowering you with his staggering strength. Thinking that was enough, a soft smile curled up on Peter’s lips as he hovered above you, waiting for you to tap out. 

Though when your palm reluctantly came down upon the mat and you both got back up, you quickly hissed, “again!” 

“You sure you don’t wanna just-,” his sentence crumbled as you cut him off with yet another punch.

“I said again!” you tightened your core and spun up onto his shoulders in an attempt to take him down. Smirking as you felt him begin to tumble, the celebration sadly didn’t last very long as you didn’t land on your feet as you usually did, his instincts haven kicked in and sent you rolling across the floor.

All the air in your lungs got knocked out as your body collided with one of the sporadic pillars in the room, an excruciating pain flaring up in your right shoulder at the impact. 

“Oh my god,” Peter rushed to your side as you slowly sat up, “I am so so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to-”

“Peter,” you groaned to shut him up, peeking down at your dislocated joint, “I’m fine,” your laboured breaths filled the air, “just pop it back into place.”

“What?”

Squinting up at his horrified features, you carefully got back up on your feet and murmured, “fine, I’ll just do it myself then,” before turning to face the column and pressing your injured shoulder against it. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Peter winched, “you could make it worse like that if you-” the loud snap as you rammed against the post, popping it back into place, effectively shut him up completely. 

“Sure, if you’re an idiot and don’t know how to do it,” you exhaled as the sharp stinging melted into a more bearable ache, “you have no idea how many times I've had it happen. Still remember the first time I had to figure out how to do it on my own. I was on an assignment in Düsseldorf, hiding in this closet and I couldn’t make a sound…”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker request #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #mcu!peter x reader #mcu!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #black widow!reader #peter parker x black widow!reader #peter parker x widow!reader

[fromforeigntofamiliarity]

Relays Of Information | Shelby!Daughter

Summary: Tommy founds out he has a daughter he never knew about. Or The long lost Shelby daughter raised as a widow comes face to face with her father.

Request: Nah

Warning: description of violence

Walking into the club in downtown London, Tomas Shelby let his eyes scan the crowded establishment in search for the young woman he had seen earlier that day.

Flashback:

"Mr. Shelby," Devlin called as her entered the office. "Your next meeting is here." He informed. 

"Alright, send 'em in Devlin." Tommy replied putting away the paperwork her was been working on in her time between meetings. 

Entering the office once again, this time with a woman following close behind. "Ms. Kitty Jurossi." He introduced causing Tommy to halt in his movement for a moment before looking up at the woman.

"Thank you Devlin." Tommy says continuing to put the papers away. 

Once the two were alone they sat in silence for a few moment, through it felt equally as eternal for them both. 

"Hello Tommy." Kitty greeted the man nervously. "Or do you prefer Mr. Shelby now?" She asked with a slight chuckle. 

"Tommy is fine, Kitty." He answered with a close lipped smile. "Please have a seat, feel free to have some tea." He offered gesturing to the seat at the end of the table with a fresh pot of tea sat in front of it. 

"Thank you." She replied shuffling over and taking a seat in the wooden chair. "It's been a long time, how have you been?" 

"I've been fine Kitty and yourself." Tommy asked squinting his eyes at the sister of his former lover, a sense of unease creeping in. 

"I've been fine as well Tommy," She replied. "It took me awhile after Greta passed on and I think I can just about put it behind me and move on. Which is why I've come here." 

Remaining silent Tommy sustained his gaze in the woman allowing her to continue with her story.

"I've wronged you Tommy a great deal, before  you left for the war Greta confided in me that she was pregnant." Kitty revealed. "She didn't have the heart to tell you knowing you may not have made it home to meet your child. She knew she was sick and that she most likely wouldn't have that chance either. She asked that when she died I take care of the child and if you returned that the child should be with their father." she continued tears began filling her eyes.

"But that didn't happen." 

"No that didn't happen, Tom." She confirmed. "It was hard after Greta passed, I had just lost my sister, I had this baby I had no idea how to raise and no one knew how long the war would last or if you'd even make it back." Tears falling down her cheeks.

"I have no idea how they knew about the babe or why but about a month after it was born some people came to me, they said they would pay me a lot of money to let them have the baby, they said they would give it a good home a good family." She explained wiping the tears from her face. "I was skint and couldn't provide for it, so I said yes and I took the money." 

"I have a child." Tommy stated. 

"After I heard that you had returned from war it was too late, the child was already gone and I felt that it would do no good for you to know about it seeing as Greta had passed on, knowing you had also lost a child might have broken you."

"But I didn't loose a child did I Kitty?" Tommy asked shaking his head. "You sold 'em."

"I know I've done an awful think Tommy, its been eating me alive all these years." Kitty said now sobbing quietly in her seat. "Which is why I've come here today, to confess, I only hope that one day you... and Greta, may she rest in peace, can find it in your heart to forgive me." 

"where is he now?"

"I don't know Tom, But I heard of you, I know you have money, connections things that would make it a hell of a lot easier for you to find them." She answered. "I know most men have no interest with raising a child and I'm not asking you to, I have myself together now, a job and house and they deserve to know about their family about Greta. I can raise 'em take care of 'em now, I just need your help to find the child Tommy, please."

For a while Tommy sat simply staring at the crying woman in his office, a woman who he would have once been his sister-in-law but had sold his child, a living breathing legacy of her sister, her own blood.

"Alright Kitty." Tommy finally spoke breaking the silence. "I'll look for the my child and I will find 'em" 

"Thank yo-,"

"And you'll not come anywhere near him." Tommy interrupts. "This will be you first and final warning Kitty, I'll let you walk now, but if you ever come near my family again. I will kill you." 

Hanging her head Kitty Jurossi gave a slight nod before standing from her seat heading to the door. "Tommy," Kitty called as she opened the door turning to face him once again. "You should know, the baby...it was a girl. You have a daughter." 

It took longer to find her than Tommy would like to admit, but there was obviously no paper trail for the deal Kitty Jurossi had made. Tommy sent men out to search hospitals on any record of Greta giving birth, one came back the all records of the birth and the child itself was taken by a man claiming he was from a home for orphaned girl in London, though he spoke with a Russian accent. 

More digging and with the help of his friends (Alfie) in Camden, Tommy found the was one girls home that received many shipments to and from Russia.

‘The Red Room Home For Orphaned Girls.’

Four days Tommy waited outside the home, watching, waiting but for what he didn't know. Yet on the forth day all his waiting paid off as he spots a young woman walking down the street, his breath caught in his throat as he stared at an almost exact replica of Greta Jurossi. She shared nearly every feature with her late mother save a few her and there, but the one thing that wiped away any doubt was her eyes, even from across the street Tommy could see the deep blue color of them. His eyes.

With confident strides she walks up the stairs of the building before entering the door. 

"Where have you been for four days?" Tommy muttered to himself never taking his eyes off of the building as he reaches into his breast pocket pulling out a cigarette. What also caught his attention even more was that an hour later she was once again walking through the door and heading off down the street. "What the hell kind of girls home is this?" 

With a quick honk of his horn Tommy caught the attention of the blinder down the street, nodding in the direction of the girl, a second later the man began following the unknown Shelby down the street. 

[<_>}

Irina sat in the club, small smile on her face, enjoying a glass of champagne as she watched the people around her dance, do drug, have sex and more. 

She casually scanned the crowd waiting for her eyes to lock on the man she had followed here. Paul Lipton, he was in the middle of the dance floor, dancing with a pretty blonde women that most definitely not his wife. She knew that for a fact because that was the exact reason she was here, turned out Mrs. Lipton wasn't the type of woman to just set back and let her husband cheat on her.

Downing the rest of her drink Irina stood from her seat heading straight for the dance floor, Spinning and twirling as she attempted to blend into the crowd, making her way toward the unfaithful man she reached for the knife that was strapped to her upper thigh. Getting closer and closer to Paul she raised her arms, doing once final spin as she passed the man quickly dragging the knife across his throat. 

It took Paul a few second to realize what was happening to him, she watched as the smiles slowly slipped from his face before his hands shot up to his throat in an attempt to stop his blood from spilling out of his wound. It wasn't until he fell to his knees that his partner noticed that something was terribly wrong. Seeing the red spill from his neck and down the front of his suit drew a scream from the blonde that pierced the ears of nearly everyone in the club. 

In an instant the panic started as everyone began to scramble in all directions to what they hope would be safely. 

Getting the feeling she was being watched Irina once again scanned the, now panicking, crowd. She had to admit she didn't expect to lock eyes with a man standing on the other side of the club dressed on a long black trench coat, blue eyes nearly completely covered my the peaky cap sat on his head.

After a few seconds of eye contact she took a step back disappearing into the crowd. 

[<_>]

Pulling up to the large house 'Arrow' as it was called, Irina took note of the men standing causally outside. Guards, though not very good ones she would say. 

 "Ne nuzhno derzhat' mashinu v rabochem sostoyanii, ya chuvstvuyu, chto eto zaymet nekotoroye vremya." She said to the driver as he opened the door for her to exit the vehicle.['No need to keep the car running, I have a feeling this will take awhile.']

As she approached the door one of the men broke from the group stepping in between her and the door. 

"Can I help you ma'am?" He asked looking down at her.

"No, I don't think you can." She replied rolling her eyes as he blows smoke in her face. "I have a meeting with a Mr. Shelby." She informed trying her best not to punch the man in the throat. 

Looking over to one of the other men a bit away her nods his head in the direction of the door before turning back to her as the other walks inside. The man in front of her stares at her for awhile scanning her body ever once and a while. 

"You know if your going to see Mr. Shelby, I'm afraid I'll have to search you for weapons." He smirked at her flicking his finished cigarette away.

"Touch me and it will be the last thing you do." She smirked back at the man already prepared to take him out. Her smile only grew as the man took a step forward.

"Mr. Shelby will see you now." The man from before announced sticking his head outside the door. 

"Oh lucky me." She says sarcastically, side stepping the man in front of her, coming shoulder to shoulder with him she stops. "And extremely lucky for you." She states before walking up the steps and entering the home. 

"Right this way ma'am." An older women in the other side of the door directed her though a hall that came to a large door way. On the other side was a dining room with a large table occupied by a approximately 13 people. 

"Mr. Shelby, your guest has arrived." The woman says gesturing over to you. "Shall I take your coat?" She asked causing you to shrug it off allowing her to take it as she exits. 

"Irina," The man sat at the head of the table greeted. "Thank you for coming, please have a seat."

Walking over to the table she approaches the seat Tommy had gestured to next to him. Across from her was a blonde woman who she noticed was in a very large portrait above the fire place, she sat next to a small child, obviously her son. 

"Mr. Shelby." She greeted back taking a seat. "I have to say when I saw you at the club this isn't the exact way I pictured we'd meet again." 

"No?" 

"Well most of my clients don't usually introduce me to their family." She informed. "It's not really a family friends profession." 

"Are you a whore?" The blonde woman asked looking at you from across the table. 

"No...well, maybe." Irina smirked. "I like most people offer a unique service for a price, everyone is a whore is you think about it, just selling different parts of themselves." 

"And what service do you provide?" A ginger haired boy a bit down the table asks. 

"Finn." 

"No its alright Mr. Shelby," She assured. "Well, Finn to put it simply. I kill people." 

"Are you serious?" Finn asked looking around the table with a nervous chuckle. 

"Deadly." She smiles. "Which is why I was wondering why Mr. Shelby called me here, its no secret that the Shelby family tends to handle grudges on their own." 

"So you've heard of us?" A man sitting next to Finn asked with a smirk. 

"I prefer to know who I'm working for." She replied. "I asked around about you 'Tommy Shelby the man who could make an enemy out of god himself', So Mr. Shelby who is it that now even the all powerful Tomas Shelby can kill?" She smiles excitement shining in her eyes.

"I'm afraid you may be quite disappointed," Tommy says looking away from the young girl and over to the woman sitting next to her. "I haven't asked you here to have anyone killed."

Slowly the smile slips from her face as she turns her attention to the head of the table, leaning forward with a glare on her face.

"So you've wasted my time?" She asks staring down the blue eyed man. 

"I've called you here to offer you some...information you may find interesting." Tommy corrected. 

"If I wanted interesting information, Thomas." She started leaning forward some more. "I would have went to a fucking library." 

"Not this information love." The older brunette sitting to he left states. 

"I don't know how to say this so I'll just come out with it." Tommy started.

"Please do." 

"about sixteen years ago, before I went off to war, I was involved with a woman by the name of Greta Jurossi." He explains. "She died while I was still in France, but before that she had a child. My child." 

"Is this what coming out with it means to you?" 

"A few months ago, her sister came to me to let me know of the child." Taking a moment to clear his throat Tommy finally 'came out with it.' "That child is you." 

All eyes were now on Irina as she looked down at the table cloth in front of her. Tommy took her silence as a sign to continue speaking and began introducing the various members of the Shelby family to the newest member.  

Having gone down the table Tommy finishes looking back over to his daughter, after a few moments of silence a small chuckle was heard as her shoulder began to move more and more as her laughter became louder. 

"I'm sorry," She apologizes as she looks around to see no one else laughing. "I just find this whole story a bit ridiculous."

"You think we’re lying." The younger brunette with a short hair cut asked seemingly offended.

"Yes...No...well, weather I believe it or not doesn't really matter." Irina said waving her had dismissing the topic. "But you were right Mr. Shelby this wasn't a waste of time after all. Because I have some 'interesting' information for you as well."

reaching down in a small pocket in her skirt pulling out a bullet setting it upright on the table. On the bullet a name, crudely etched into the side. 

‘Thomas.’

"I'm sure you are familiar with a name by the name of Sabini?" She asked rhetorically. "Well it seems you have offended him in someway seeing as he contacted me sometime ago with the request that I end your life." 

"Imagine my surprise when I not only spot you in London, alone, unprotected, but then you invite me to your home." She laughed in disbelief. "So I guess the question now Mr. Shelby is, Mr. Sabini paid a lot of money to have you killed, How much are you willing to pay to stay alive?"   

Part 2(?)

#peaky blinder x oc #tommy shelby!daughter #shelby!oc #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #black widow #black widow!reader #peaky blinders x marvel #Tommy Shelby #crossover #peaky blinders imagine #marvel imagine #black widow imagine

[lizamango]

Not me starting a new fanfic of brainwashed hydra/blackwidow reader who thinks hydra are the good guys x recently defrosted steve rogers fic when i have how many wips 😀

might throw in a little winter soldier! bucky into the mix

also incorporating underworld vibes bc i’m obsessed w that saga

#reader insert #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #marvel rewrite #marvel #mcu #reader #x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes #winter soldier #black widow!reader #black widow #yelena belova #underworld au

[dearest-painter]

I can see it now. Miguel meeting black widow!reader for the first time and having his ass handed to him by a teenager. I bet Miguel can tell that they fight with the intent to kill and not injure

Oh yeah basically, he accidentally scared them and they immediately hang him his ass. He’s happy you aren’t trying to kill or harm him at all, you just wanna protect yourself.

#yandere #please don’t do this #obession #unhealthy #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #gn reader #x gn reader #yandere x gn reader #black widow!reader #gender neutral y/n #yandere x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #genderfluid enity answers! #✉️mail arrived✉️ #yandere spider man across the spider verse #yandere spiderverse

[ii-larb-you]

Imagine batmom…being an ex widow…and like being Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova’s sister 🫠🫠

#obsessed with this concept #batmom!reader #batfamily #black widow #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #natasha romanoff x sister!reader #yelena belova x sister!reader #black widow!reader #bruce wayne x batmom #marvel x dc #batmom

[russosafehaven]

There are Widows and there are Men

A/N: None

Series Title: There are Widows and there are Men

Chapter Title: Part One - Tangled Web

Song: Vigilante Shit - Taylor Swift

Pairings: Billy Russo x Black Widow!Reader

Word Count: Unknown

Warnings: Trafficking mentions, Red Room, Dreykov

~

You sat in your shared office with Billy. Filling it random pieces of paper work and going through some mission files. One particular file caught your eye. Some girls were being trafficked by Russians and Billy had sent some men out to retrieve the girls. It sent a wave of nausea to your stomach, remembering your time in the Red Room.

Billy wasn’t aware that you were a Widow. He didn’t know the blood that stained your hands. You never planned to tell him, scared of what would happen. It was lucky enough that he asked you to be his PA that day in the coffee shop. You weren’t going to risk losing it over the red in your ledger.

From across the room you can feel his eyes on you. It had been a while since you got out of the web of bodies Dreykov created you for. Once a Widow always a Widow, it was hard to shake the habits.

“It’s late you know? You should go home, I can finish up here”

Your attention moved to Billy. His words hit your core. There’s nothing you wanted more than to go home but the file you were studying had taken over your mind.

“I’m okay Billy, just…”

You trailed off unsure how to finish your sentence. There was no telling how Billy would react to finding out the truth. You had heard some brief tales of his childhood. Group home, meth head mother, but no details.

You heard his chair pull away from his desk and his footsteps making his way over to you. As he rounded your desk you looked up at him. His eyes were so dark, not only in colour but in energy as well. You could only imagine what he had seen being a former Marine. As he leaned against your desk his eyes wandered to the file you were looking at.

“Reading over the trafficking case huh?”

You nodded shyly. Around Billy you felt vulnerable, weak even. Yet you were still hiding that you were trafficked. Turned into a weapon, chemically subjugated to Dreykov’s control.

“You look tired, come on I’ll drive you home”

He placed a hand on your shoulder and you shuddered. The memories were still there, they always would be. Hesitantly you have in, packing your stuff up and following behind Billy.

His car was nice, really nice. Fitting to his personality he had a Rolls Royce Wraith. It exuded the luxury you had been desperate for as a kid. As you sat with the other Widows watching Sailor Moon and imagining you were somewhere else. He opened your door allowing you to climb in, before closing the door and going around to his own.

The engine started up and he asked for directions to your apartment. In the moment you weren’t energised enough to care about the shitty neighbourhood you lived in. It was run up but it was home. After finding your way to New York after the Red Room. This was the first apartment you had managed to find and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Billy pulled over in front of your place and you hastily exited the car. You turned around to thank him but he was out of the car, making his way to you.

“You gonna show me your home?”

You lightly shook your hand and grabbed his arm, dragging him up to your apartment. For a moment you wanted to kiss him. It was no secret Billy was attractive and you had been into him for a while now. The two of you made you way up the stairs and as you fumbled around for your keys, your neighbour had appeared.

“Late night again?”

Malcom was normally greeting you, after helping out the resident drunk Jessica. You nodded and his eyes moved to Billy.

“Please tell me you’re not taking him to bed”

You went to open your mouth but were interrupted by Malcom as he spoke once again.

“You know what? Good looking pair like you two, just keep it down please?”

With a click your door unlocked. You shoved Billy inside before giving Malcom a glare and entering your apartment. It was small and cosy, your first home.

“Nice neighbours”

Billy commented as he scanned your apartment. The kitchen and living space were all one room, with the bathroom and bedroom both being adjoining. You gestured to the couch and he took a seat.

“Can I get you anything Mr Russo?”

He gave you a look, you never called him Mr Russo unless there were other people around. You opted to just get two glasses of water and went to join him on the couch.

“You know, you’ve never told me about your family”

Your eyes immediately wondered up to him. You wanted to avoid this topic for as long as possible. Billy kept his gaze on you. Analysing your body language no doubt. As you went to say something an explosion came from the bedroom. Blasting pieces of drywall onto you. Billy tackled you to the ground holding his body over yours.

The two of you didn’t move for at least five minutes. It wasn’t until your door was ripped from its hinges did Billy move off of you.

“What the hell happened in here?”

Jessica had entered your space. Looking around for you. She didn’t care about a lot of people but the two of you had met back in college before she dropped out. You were close friends and you often involved in her vigilante messes.

“Explosive, no doubt he’s sent more Widows after me”

You forgot Billy was there as you spoke to Jessica. Climbing to your feet your eyes whipped around the scene. Rubble decorated the floor and Billy was standing, staring at you and your brunette companion.

“What the hell is going on? You know I pride ANVIL on knowing it’s employees but this”

He gestures to the scene around him.

“Just proves I know absolutely nothing about the person working closest to me”

Guilt runs through your body. You didn’t want him to find out let alone like this.

“I’m gonna go”

Jessica says, exiting the frame that once held your door. Billy attempted to walk over to you, but you took a step back. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

It felt like hours had passed until you gained the confidence to say anything. Billy was stood in the small kitchen nursing a whiskey. You started to walk towards him. Ready to tell him your past. Before you knew it, a bullet lodged itself in your neck. Throwing a hand to your neck, you attempted to try and slow the bleeding. Despite taking your fair share of bullets, in this moment you were lost. Billy ran over to you and the last thing you see before passing out is his dark eyes filled with rage.

#billy russo imagine #billy russo #black widow!reader #jessica jones #the punisher imagine #billy russo x reader #gn!reader #billy russo fluff #ben barnes #black widow #malcom ducasse #jessica jones imagine

[akariamai]

You Left

Part 2

Summary: Matt overheard his neighbor briefly speaking of a betrayal

There was a stranger situated in your living room and he couldn’t differentiate if they were a friend or an enemy. He knew you must’ve suffered a great deal of trauma. At times, your heart beat kept steady as you reassured him you were fine and the nightmares didn’t haunt you as often as they did. When he returns from his nightly activities, he can hear you still awake sipping on coffee to relieve you of the nightmarish memories he had yet to figure out. You were a complete mystery to him. A blank slate that perplexed his senses to the point where he could not deceiver lies from truths and vice versa. It was just a guessing game with you.

This stranger carried the same atmosphere as you did, his senses could not pick up any obscurities in their movement, and it only left him to wonder in the comfort of his apartment. He knew your schedule and you should be arriving soon. If he hears any discrepancies in the beat of your heart, he’ll definitely come check as Daredevil. His costume laid next to him and he slowly started to change in case he was needed urgently.

You stood right outside of your apartment, searching for your keys in the purse you’d carried everywhere, and you stopped for a brief moment. Matt wondered if you could sense something was out of place like the woman sitting on your couch. Most likely waiting for you to arrive through the front door. “Are we gonna talk like grown-ups or do you always break into people’s apartments all willy-nilly?” He sighed internally. You knew the woman who broke into your apartment and were not even surprised. Not a single elevation to your heart beat. Such intrusion didn’t even faze you. Almost like you were anticipating this happenstance to occur.

“Is it a crime to wait to visit?” The woman’s voice was silky but filled with a false cheerfulness.

“What do you want?” The lack of emotion in your voice rattled both the woman and Matt. You were often closed off to him but still managed to mask your joyful facade. However, to this person your true feelings arose. “You obviously want something, so spill. Why are you here?”

“I just wanted to see you.” Her heart sped up for a quick second, almost swift enough for his senses to miss. 

You chuckled indifferently, “Bullshit. If you wanted to talk, you could’ve done it years ago. So why now?”

“You’re my sister.”

“Don’t say that. You left me. You left me in that god awful place while you got to play with the cool kids.” Matt could feel the grief and outrage of the whole affair. He did not know what you meant by there but it must’ve been horrid enough to hold such anguish and an immense grudge. Abandonment. It was one of the causes for your distaste towards the woman. “You know once we heard of your escape we felt a sliver of hope that help would arrive. You would save from that penitentiary of hell but you never showed. You never looked back.”

“I did try to help. I thought I killed him.” The woman pleaded. Grasping at anything she could to get back into your good graces. To reconnect the bond you’d once shared but Matt could feel there was nothing left to repair. It was severed the day you realized her presence was gone for good.

“Well you should’ve fought harder.” You asserted bitterly, “You should’ve looked for us. To see if you and your new friends could have provided us with some fucking stability.” Instead she did a sloppy job with her assassination attempt and chose to run away from her past rather than confront it head on. She had the ability to aid the rest of the little girls who had and hadn’t shrouded their hands in the blood of innocence. She had the chance at preventing more little girls from being reformed into mindless weapons but refused to do so. She instead chose to turn her back on her fellow black widows and widows in training, to fool herself into thinking she could splinter from what they conditioned her to become. 

“Please.” Her voice was weak. Her heart was breaking into tiny fragments of what it used to be. Matt, with his senseless need to assist, wanted nothing more than to comfort you. The words you spouted spitefully were coming from a woman who cried for help numerous times but was never answered. A woman who yearned for the love she didn’t think she deserved. Matt cannot fathom the amount of torture you’d endured during your time in the place you and the woman referred to, but even he knew it’s ghost still haunts you.

“Leave.” Your voice turned hard. “You need to leave and never come back. It shouldn’t be too hard for you. You already did it once.” It was a cheap blow. You knew it and so did she, but nevertheless she walked towards one of the windows. Presumably the window she slithered her way into. She glanced over at the girl, now a woman, she’d once abandoned. Reaping the seeds she’d sowed all those years ago. Matt changed into his civilian clothing as this was happening. He could not stay in his apartment knowing you were suffering in silence. He wanted to become your shoulder to cry on as you had listened to him rant about his troubles beforehand. You need someone even if it is to sit in your apartment in silence knowing someone is within reach.

Masterlist

#matt murdock #daredevil #black widow #black widow!reader #angst #the red room #trauma #marvel #marvel au #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x black widow!reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock one shot

[mr-m-murdock]

i have a request! you should do an x reader thing where nat and r are both in the red room and it’s a forbidden love thing obv idk about specific plot lines or scenarios but i feel like that’s something you could write really well. do what you want with that, or dont :) also i’m gonna start using a thing to mark my anon notes cause i keep coming back lmao

- :)

thank you so much for this!

| natasha x reader |

warnings: brainwashing, blood, child abuse, ANGST because come on. y’all know me by now

a/n: I was considering doing an OPF prequel thingy but this can be read as OPF or not, whichever you want. ALSO it's a little messed up. They're all insane. anyway enjoy :)

You all watch the armour-clad soldiers bear the girls in on stretchers. A little blonde one with child-thick fingers, and Natalia. They disappear around a corner, Natalia's knuckles brushing the ground.

Kira rests her head on your shoulder, her fingers still threaded in your hair, the braid half done.

When Natalia returns, they have shorn her blue hair off, down to a fuzz of red across her scalp. She makes no eye contact, her blank stare firmly and stubbornly on the ground.

She assembles rifles with small hands as steady as ever. She always was the best. She dances like no one else, with the grace of hot glass.

They pit you against each other on the hard ground outside, in the snow, the hot sun, the rain barefoot.

Natalia will size you up with one glance. She will see the end of the fight before you've even raised your fists. And when, inevitably, you're flat on your back in the dirt or the snow or a puddle, you'll think of how her eyes dulled when she struck first.

Natalia was always different to the rest. Stronger, faster, meaner, sure. But sometimes you'd hear in the middle of the night, an animated clank of a chain, and you'd look up from the hard pillow, eyes heavy with sleep, and you'd see her sitting up at the head of her bed. Profiled in the dark. Her buzzed-off hair grown out an inch, brushing the tips of her ears.

When Kira's neck snapped in the crook of your arm, and you were thirteen and unnaturally strong, Natalia found your gaze and held it. You didn't cry, and Kira's blood oozed out of her ear to smear across your skin.

They never praised you, but you're sure you saw a cruel gleam of triumph in the eye of the trainer. It didn't matter to you, not with the blank, methodical way your brain operated then.

Something mattered, though.

Natalia was impressed: you could see it as she displayed it plainly on her face. She never had before, and everyone begged to be the one to impress her, to be just as good, to put a knee in her back and hear her tap out. (There was no way they'd let anyone kill Natalia.) But no one ever could.

Until you.

You measured when you lost: every flick of her eyes, every twitch of muscle, the twist in her mouth the instant before the final punch landed. And you weighed these measurements out into ounces and pounds and when you stood across from her for the last time and the trainer ordered her to kill, you did not back down.

Natalia ended up on her stomach in the dust, foaming at the mouth, her hands twisted behind her back. The trainer’s face was blank as ever, as slate, but you were not looking at him. You were looking at Natalia.

And she was laughing. Spitting it out like teeth into the dirt.

From then on, you were never apart: and you never wanted to be. Before long, Natalia’s pistol by your side was like an extra limb, your flashing fists an extension of her body. They sent you to kill a man in an ill-fitting suit - Natalia sat on his lap and drew her hair behind her ear and you thrust a blade through his throat from behind, spattering her with cartilage and blood. She sighed, a puff of calm boredom, as he choked to death in her face.

Now you are thirteen and she is fourteen and the world has plunged into a freezing winter, bitter enough to bite your skin off. Natalia steals privacy in slips of moments, the two of you with your backs to a tree trunk, the two of you playing stupid games in the frozen dirt, the two of you shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee in a shed with the wind whistling through the gaps in the boards. And she grips you by the back of the neck, the fur on her gloves tickling your skin, and she kisses you gently. Then you sit there in shy silence, hands linked.

Now you are eighteen and she is nineteen and there is blood under your fingernails. Always there, no matter the process you go through to clean up. She pushes you into a wall by the neck. “You idiot,” she spits at you. “You weren’t supposed to kill her.”

The woman had been aiming for the crown of Natalia’s skull, a bullet aimed to blast apart bone. “She was going to kill you,” you say. You revel in the feel of her hand around your throat. It’s been so long since you’ve fought her.

Natalia laughs, high and bordering on hysterical. “I am unkillable,” she replies. She pushes away from you. Her eyes are bright.

You reach out, grab her by the collar and pull her in to kiss her, and she comes willingly, her hands grasping at your suit, digging in past the buckles. She grips you so hard you feel the bruises forming. “I know,” you say, when you’ve broken apart, both clawing for air. “I know and I killed her anyway. I’ll kill anyone for you.”

Natalia smiles at you, all her white teeth on display like a wolf pulling back her lips. “Yes,” she says. “You will.”

When you’re done, when objectives have been completed and weapons cleaned and you’re waiting for a plane to land or an unmarked car to draw up outside, Natalia will find a room, closed off to the outside world: a hotel or a hovel, doesn’t matter.

The two of you will clean each other methodically in the shower: you know every part of her, every scar and dip of skin. She is perfection, molded from white marble.

Sometimes, she’ll drag you to a sufficiently large area of floor and drive you to the ground, stripping you and kissing you and touching you without giving either of you the chance to clean up. Blood, yours and hers and someone else’s, mingles on both your skin, dirt, grease, gunshot residue: neither of you care. In these moments, you know only her. It is all you want.

And when she leaves, they take advantage of it. They take your desire for her and the hairline crack in your heart and they twist it to hunger, they wipe your mind clean and they push the muzzle of your pistol to follow her, wherever she goes. You endure this willingly, always willingly. For her, for them, no difference. Except your love for the Red Room is artificial, pumped in through a needle. Your love for Natalia is crimson and volatile and constant.

Somewhere in the deep, blank recesses of your mind, you know she’s better than you. You know she’ll outrun you and outsmart you. You know there will always be a twitch of hesitation in your trigger finger, blasting apart the plaster next to her head instead of the bone between her bright, bright eyes that you know so well.

requests | masterlist

notes: it’s a bit shorter than I wanted it to be and probably than you were hoping for, but I hope you liked it! <3

taglist: @when-wolves-howl @fayhar @maggieromanov @transbi-spidey @romanoffscottage @blackxwidowsxwife @lizlil @screechcat @maddess @mellxa @haeva @diaryoflife @natashasilverfox @vicmc624 @strangegardentaco @phantomvael @lorsstar1st @rysnwilder @ima-gi–na-tion @paryl @picnicmic  @smallestavenger @lainjupi @d1s0nym @simpforflorencepugh1 @the-v01d @kqmui @s1ut4nat @btay3115  @natblackwidow2 @lokisjuicyass @mmmmokdok @thorya22

#:) anon #anon cuties #requests #written fic for anon #only pretty faces #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natfic! #fic! #black widow!reader

[buckybarnessunflower]

Domino Effect

Description: Bucky Barnes is Hydra's greatest asset, the world's top assassin. He never misses a target, but his latest mission involves YOU, the woman he loves, the woman with a broken heart because of him. You're on the run with your sister Natasha Romanoff, together you are the most feared Widow's, you know your ex will be the one sent to kill you and your sister. Will he do it?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X reader

Warnings: Chapter warnings will be posted with each chapter

Word Count: 1126

Chapter Warnings: Very brief description of death, Mafia!Bucky , Bucky working for Hydra

Bucky was surrounded in darkness, the building he was in long ago cutting off the electricity but that’s what he needed for the mission he was on.

The darkness was welcomed.

He couldn’t be seen by anyone.

He needed an easy way out once he completed the mission.

Hydra wouldn’t allow any mistakes, that was a quick death sentence.

But Bucky was the best Hydra operative in years, he never missed a target, there were no mistakes and at the end of the day money was wired into an overseas bank account that couldn’t be traced.

“I’ve got eyes on the target,” Bucky said into his earpiece. 

“Better be a clean shot Soldat, I don’t want to be cleaning up another mess this month. Loki did enough of that.” Brock Rumlow said with a low growl.

Bucky’s brow furrowed in concentration as he followed his target through the scope of his sniper, his finger moved closer to the trigger waiting for a clear shot.

The man was wearing a tailor-made gray suit, his cufflinks shining from the flashing neon lights up above the club he was in. He turned around completely unaware that he was being watched as he talked to a blonde haired woman wearing a skin tight dress.

A half-second later Bucky pulled the trigger, the bullet escaped the barrel of his gun, the silencer ensuring that no one would hear it as the bullet entered and exited from his neck. Even from the ledge where he was perched at Bucky could see the rich red blood spill out onto the man’s expensive suit, staining it as he took his last breath.

Bucky was quick to pack up his sniper and head down the winding staircase of the uninhabited building he had been in; he could hear sirens rushing down the streets of Vienna as he got into the unmarked car he had been assigned.

“Be at the airport in 15, we got a new assignment for you soldat” Brock said before cutting off access to the line.

Bucky’s ice-cold blue eyes gazed upon the large spacious red-brick mansion he was driving up to. Men with guns stood by the black spiked gates, fingers on the trigger ready to kill any intruder or anyone that wandered too far down the road. The gate squeaked as it opened enough for his car to pass through, the mansion looked hauntingly beautiful the closer he got. The red bricks were discolored from the weather and age, ivy grew up the sides traveling up the vast space of the building.

Bucky always hated having to meet with the man currently sitting in front of him, his smile was always sinister that came from being the head of Hydra the past 2 decades, a long jagged scar ran from his hairline down to his chin,and his eyes obsidian black; Bucky often wondered if he was the devil reincarnated. Alexander Pierce was his name and Bucky was his favorite asset if there ever was one. 

“Soldat you completed your last mission with no problems I see” he said, raising a glass of Whiskey and taking a sip.

“Yes sir” Bucky replied, straightening his back.

Pierce stared at him, his smile widening just a little at the thought of how many successful missions the man before him had completed, how much money he had gained after each kill was completed.

“You’re the best agent we have Soldat, it’s too bad we have failures in our ranks like Loki; that smug idiot cost me millions last week” he said, tightening his hold on the glass in his hand, a crack appearing under the pressure.

Bucky did not respond, he knew by now to only speak when spoken to.

Pierce sighed as he stood and grabbed 2 files out of his cabinet.

“That’s why I'm sending you on this mission, it’s under the table, an inside job that only a select few have access to” Pierce continued as he walked around the large oak table to stand beside Bucky.

“You see Soldat when one domino falls so do the rest and you know I’m an organized man with very little patience, so I want this done as soon as possible before these 2 insects ruin our operation” He finished handing Bucky the 2 files in his hand and walking back to his chair.

“I’ll have it done as soon as possible sir” he said, sliding the files into the lining inside of his suit.

“I know you will Soldat, that’s why I assigned you to the mission”

Bucky glanced up to see Pierce’s smirk had disappeared, a frown replacing it. He watched as he trailed a finger down the scar on his face, a thoughtful look behind his eyes.

“These 2 insects are former Widow’s, take whatever you need to ensure the job is done, I want them both dead and their heads delivered to me” He finished looking at Bucky with rage in his eyes, maliciousness dripped from every word. Bucky only nodded his head in understanding before leaving.

“Boss has his favorite on the job I see” Rumlow said before Bucky made it back to his car.

“Jealous?” Bucky asked with a toothy grin when he saw how angry Rumlow was.

“Fuck you” he spat watching Bucky get in his car chuckling, which only infuriated him more by how unbothered he was.

Only when Bucky was alone in his apartment, each lock latched, and curtains tightly closed did he take a look at the files Pierce gave him. 

No amount of training could have stopped the gasp that escaped his lips when he saw who he was supposed to kill.

Natasha and Y/n Romanoff. The 2 best Widow’s that came out of the Black Widow program, sisters that had more combined kills than most of the Hydra agents combined. 

His icy blue gaze softened when they fell on your picture, You had been in love and so had he but he chose his job over marrying you.

He couldn’t help but wince at the memory of tears cascading down your cheeks when he told you that he didn’t want to marry you.

It had been a lie.

He loved you, loved you more than anything but the thought of settling down and starting a family terrified him, he wasn’t the type of man you marry, wasn’t what he thought you deserved.

After that night you had cut off all contact with him, he could not imagine what you and your sister Nat had done to have such a big target on your backs.

He knew this would be the hardest mission he had ever been assigned but you were his new target and Bucky Barnes never missed his target.

Part Two>

#mafia!bucky #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #mob!bucky #black widow!reader

[romanoffshouse]

[Natasha speaking Russian]

Y/N, sighing: Yeah, I know.

Tony: You speak Russian?

Y/N: No. I just know the phrase, "This is all your fault"

Y/N: She says it a lot.

#source: jessie #incorrect marvel quotes #marvel incorrect quotes #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x you #natasha x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #tony x reader #iron man x reader #iron man #marvel #marvel x reader #the avengers #avengers x reader

[waltermis]

And yet she's still the one that got screwed over by Marvel 😮‍💨

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #avengers #mcu #avengers: infinity war #avengers : endgame #black widow #natasha romanov #natasha romonova #natasha x reader #avengers x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #Scarlett johansson

[marvelfilth]

Need (18+)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader x Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: g!p Natasha Romanoff, g!p Wanda Maximoff, implied influence of sex pollen, PWP, threesome, unprotected sex, blow job

Summary: absolutely zero plot, straight up PWP

Masterlist

You finally let yourself relax for the first time in the past two days, closing your eyes and throwing yourself on the couch.

You hate stealth missions. You are more of an explosion type of girl, coming in with a bang, kicking some ass and leaving as soon as possible, but this - staying hidden, moving in shadows, and sneaking behind people's backs - this is more of a Natasha thing, which is why she is the one in charge.

You sigh, turning your head to look at the redhead. She is bent over some documents, her brows furrowed in deep thought. Wanda appears by her side a moment later, drops of sweat rolling down her temples.

You sit up, and focus on the women in front of you. Hours ago something went wrong when you split up, they came back looking as guilty as ever, reassuring you that everything was alright, and you believed them then. Now you're not so sure.

"Is everything okay?" You ask, pinning them down with your eyes.

Wanda jumps in surprise and moves to stand behind the table, slightly bending over. Your eyes narrow at the sight.

"Everything is alright. You should go to the store, we don't have anything to eat," Natasha says through gritted teeth, not meeting your eyes.

Your mouth opens in shock, eyes straying to Wanda's in search of support, but you find her in a similar state - eyes dark and jaw clenched tight.

"You two go to the store. Maybe some fresh air will help you get your shit together." You huff, choosing to walk away from the women and hole up in your room, but when you pass by Wanda, your hand accidentally grazing hers, she lets out an actual growl, the wood of the table squeaking in her hold. Her eyes burn bright red, her mouth open as she pants heavily.

"What's wrong?" You hurry to her side, cupping her jaw to inspect her face, and her hips thrust forward, her eyes closing as she whines.

"You need to go." Natasha's low voice reaches your ears, making you look at the redhead. "Leave, before it's too late."

You blink and take a step back, concern swirling in your chest. "What is going on? Let me help."

Wanda takes a deep breath, her hands trembling as she reaches for your hand.

"Wanda," Natasha warns, her tone steel-like, but Wanda pays her no mind, her fingers hot on your arm as she pulls you flush against her front, burrowing her nose in the back of your neck and grinding her hips against your backside, her rock hard cock straining in the confines of her pants.

You gasp, unconsciously arching your back to meet her messy humps, her hands curling around your waist, her mouth hot on your neck. "W-wanda."

Natasha walks around the table and you finally see her fully, see the bulge in her pants, see the veins in her tense forearms. "Leave," she croaks, "before we completely lose control."

You let an involuntary whimper, the sound making Natasha pounce on you with animalistic need. Her lips are on yours, enveloping you in their warmth, her hands are rough on your hips, squeezing and tugging you away from the other woman, but Wanda doesn't budge, growling against your neck and holding on to your waist.

Natasha stumbles back, breathless, and closes her eyes tightly, her fists clenched tight. "This is your last chance. If you don't leave now, we'll take it as your permission to do whatever we want to you."

Wanda hums against the slope of your neck, nipping and sucking on the tender skin, her hot tongue soothing the sting. You gulp, head falling back against her shoulder.

"Use me," you whisper, "do whatever you want."

Natasha's eyes flash, and then she's pushing you down to your knees. Your mouth falls open as her pants and underwear slide down her legs. Her fat cock stands proudly against her stomach, precum leaking down the tip. You barely have enough time to wet your lips before she pushes it down your throat, holding your face between her hands and fucking your mouth like her life depends on it. She throws her head back, strands of her fiery red hair framing her face as she loses herself in her desire.

Wanda mewls beside you, and you glance at her, eyes widening when you see her straining cock in her fist. She pumps it fast, her eyes on you, and you reach out, your fingers wrapping around the length. She closes her eyes, her hands settle on your shoulders as you slowly jerk her off, your throat burning from Natasha's cock. She pulls away to let you take a breath, but you don't have enough time for that - Wanda immediately takes her place, shoving herself into your mouth, her balls slapping against your chin.

You blink back tears, trying to relax your throat, but still gagging on her length.

"M'sorry, detka," she murmurs, "you'll have to take it all."

Natasha taps her tip on your cheek, her fingers tangling in your hair. You pull away, finally allowed to breathe properly, and clench your thighs at the sight of their cocks in front of your face, your wetness staining your sleep shorts as you subtly grind on your heel.

Natasha growls, and then you're pulled off the floor and thrown over the spy's shoulder. She carries you to her bedroom with ease, and throws you on the bed. Wanda hurriedly tugs off your clothes, almost ripping your underwear in haste to get you naked. Natasha is on you the second you're laid bare, ready to claim your most vulnerable part. You spread your legs, bending them at your knees, your thighs wet with your arousal. Natasha tugs you closer, and forces you on your hands and knees.

"Better," she husks, the tip of her cock pushing between your folds and into your tight heat, your walls clenching tightly around her shaft. She moans, thrusting balls deep, "Such a good pussy, taking me like a good slut."

You cry out, mouth falling wide open, and see Wanda settle in front of you, her cock still wet with your spit. She takes hold of your jaw and pushes your head down, simultaneously thrusting her cock deep inside your throat. "Fuck, Nat, we should've done this sooner."

They fuck you like you're a common whore, using your holes to their liking, Wanda's balls slapping against your chin, Natasha's palms placed possessively on your ass. You gag on the witch's shaft, tears streaming down your face, but she's too far gone in her pleasure to notice, hips snapping faster with each thrust. Natasha's length spreads your cunt almost painfully, the tip of her thick cock pushing against your cervix with each rough thrust.

Your moans send vibrations through Wanda's length, making the young witch cry out, her abs taut with tension, fingers pulling at your hair harshly. She comes down your throat with a loud moan, making you gag on her cum. You pull away, struggling to swallow the load that leaks all over your face and chest.

Natasha's thrusts become erratic as she gets closer to her own release, her fat cock sloshing in your wetness.

"Tasha- ah, please," you gasp, and she flips you on your back, changing the angle.

"Louder, baby," she pants, snapping her hips faster, her fingers leaving bruises on your hips. "I want everyone to know what a cock slut you are." Her dirty words make your head spin, your walls clenching around her thickness, trying to swallow her in.

Wanda throws one led over your stomach, now hovering over you, and pushes your breasts together before thrusting her cock between them. You eagerly open your mouth, welcoming the reddened tip. She whines and mewls as she plays with your breasts, her thumbs stroking your nipples, ready to come again just from the sight below her.

Your legs are spread wider before they're thrown over Nat's shoulders. She presses her palm against the bulge in your belly, making you scream, "Yes! Ah- Nat… Yes, yes, yes- deeper, I need you deeper."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she thrusts one last time, releasing a load of cum into your clenching heat. The pressure inside you releases as you're hit by the most powerful orgasm you've ever had. A few seconds later Wanda follows, forcing your jaw open and thrusting the tip of her cock inside. This time you swallow it all.

She falls on the bed beside you, her body glistening with sweat as you both catch your breath. Natasha slowly pulls out, gently massaging your thighs before taking place on your other side.

"We're not done," she whispers against your ear, her palm cupping your pussy. "We're not done until we've used every single one of your holes. And after that we'll go back to the compound, and we'll do it again and again and again."

Wanda nods, grinning wolfishly, and settles over you, her cock on your lower stomach, ready to fulfill Natasha's promise.

You gulp and spread your legs wider, ready to give them everything.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wandanat x reader #wandanat smut #natasha romanoff x you #wanda maximoff x you #black widow x reader #scarlet witch x reader

[lizamango]

Cruel World 2/? (Brainwashed Black Widow!Reader x Steve Rogers)

summary: A war between SHIELD and HYDRA rages on in the shadows of the world. You live for the kill as a Black Widow until you discover Steve Rogers, the weapon for the opposing side who makes you question the side you’ve been fighting for. (inspired by Underworld, just go with the lore on this fit pls)

warnings: smut later, cussing, canon typical violence

wordcount: 1425

Part 1

I decide it would be safer for Steve to stay on the ground while I deal with the repercussions of “disobeying” Rumlow’s orders.

“You know, I can handle myself.”

“I can’t just bring in a stranger. You’ll get thrown into a cell-“

“A cell?” he interrupts. “Geez.”

“So stay here. Please.”

“I just think it would be good for you to have back up.”

I walk towards him, forcing him to take a couple steps back towards the barred radiator.

“Steve…” I look up into his eyes. His dreamy blue eyes that, in the dark of the night, look like the sky full of stars. I lift my hand to his cheek and press my lips to his, softly at first. He immediately springs to action, kissing me back. I feel alive as he kisses me, his warm breath on my cheek as he tries to tease my lips open.

He pulls back suddenly at the cold contact of the metal. Looking down he frowns. “What are you doing?”

I smile up at him though it’s more of a smirk. “So you don’t go anywhere.”

He tugs at the cuffs. “Fuck.”

I leave the cabin and make my way to the Red Room.

The greeting is less than warm as soldiers find me and escort me to the hall where Rumlow is pacing.

“How dare you defy me.” He orders everyone out. “Embarrass me! Everyone knows that I am in charge here, how could you disrespect me? I had plans for us.”

“Rumlow, when are you gonna get it through your brain? There is no us and there never will be.”

“Why did you spend a night out there? Did you find what you were looking for?”

I think back to how Rumlow’s allegiance is to Schmidt and how he lied to everyone about killing Captain America. “No, I didn’t.”

“So I was right.”

I can’t help rolling my eyes.

“Get yourself cleaned up. Schmidt will be here tonight to awaken Pierce.”

I leave the hall. “Zasranets,” I whisper to myself. Asshole. I walk towards the Cryochambers. It’s time to put an end to this.

The guard looks up at me as I enter. “Melina is looking for you.” He nods and leaves. I’m still trusted.

I lock the doors and disable the cameras from the control centre the guard just abandoned. Sitting at the machine I feel as though I am committing treason, which I suppose I am. To my knowledge no one has attempted cerebral messaging to reanimate cryogenic suspension other than our three leaders: Dreykov, Schmidt and Pierce. This requires training and discipline of the mind. Skills I have not refined. Cerebral messaging allows the former leader to pass down their memories of their term to the next leader to rule for a decade and the cycle continues. They planned this to prevent usurpers and to keep the peace among the faction. This cycle has not been broken. Until me.

“My Lord, please forgive me. I desperately need your guidance. I apologise for waking you ahead of your time but I fear the power is in the wrong hands. You may be in danger if left in cryo… I believe that Schmidt lied about killing SHIELD’s Prize for he is alive and well. I also believe SHIELD to be more organised than ever before as they were the ones to find him. I hope that when you wake, you will believe me and set things right.” I leave the machine and disable the cryogenic chamber, turning the cameras back on and exit without a trace. I decide to pick up some clothes that would fit the Captain on my way back to my quarters.

“Sestra!” I turn back and see Yelena. “Big problem.” She grabs my arm and speed walks me in the direction I was going in anyways.

“What?” I ask annoyed.

“Please tell me why I found a golden retriever wandering the grounds looking for you? What did you do?”

“Fuck.” I open my doors and see Steve sat on my ottoman looking through a book.

He stands up startled as he sees me. “I- I broke out of the handcuffs.”

I cross my arms and raise a brow. “I can see that.”

“Wow, he looks even better in the light,” Yelena comments.

“This is Yelena, one of my sisters. Widow. Yelena, this is Grant.” I lie. I’ve never lied to one of them, omitted a truth or kept information classified but never a lie.

Steve goes along with it. “Hi,” he smiles in his charming way.

“You can leave us now, Sestra.”

Yelena rolls her eyes and groans. “Fine, you’re both just boring.” With the door closed I inhale sharply and look at Steve disapprovingly.

“What are you doing up here?! How did you even- actually, I don’t want to know.”

He starts with saying my name so seriously it’s a jarring contrast to how he acted while Yelena was here. “Why is there HYDRA insignia all over this place?” he asks in a grave tone.

“You shouldn’t have come here, Steve. I - I left you down there because I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

“Understand? Understand that you’re the evil! HYDRA started the war-“

I shake my head almost to the point where it hurt. “You’re wrong. You don’t understand. You don’t know what you’re talking about, they’ve lied to you.”

“No. It’s you they’ve lied to.”

“You’ve been asleep for 70 years, I hardly think you have any right making such outrageous claims,” I shut him down and open my closet, stocking up on Widow’s bites, bullets and bigger guns. I throw the clothes I collected at him. They’re more appropriate tactical gear rather than having him run around in jeans and a tee, James Dean style. “Put these on.” He changes in front of me and I distract myself with the armoury. “Schmidt will be arriving here tonight, we don’t want to be the ones caught off guard.”

“You’re bringing me with you? You’re going to trust me? After what I just told you.”

“You’ve told me nothing, you’ve just made a bunch of nonsense up and I blame being frozen for decades. Now come on.”

“I’m starting to notice a pattern where I just follow you wherever you tell me to go…” he whispers.

“As you should. You wouldn’t make it out of here alone.”

We sneak off back to the quinjet, avoiding the guards since I know their rotations like the back of my hand. Firing up the quinjet I take off.

“We have to get somewhere Schmidt won’t find us. Somewhere he doesn’t know about…” I say more to myself but I know Steve is thinking.

“New Jersey. The barracks I used to train at.” He stands from his seat. “Let me pilot.”

I look up at him skeptically but I give him the controls. “If you think I’m so evil, why aren’t you trying to fight me?”

“I don’t think you are.”

His answer makes me frown.

“It’ll take a couple of hours for Dreykov to fully wake and get his strength. We’ll need to lay low before then.”

Steve just nods. “I never thought I’d see Johann Schmidt again.”

When I really think about it, Steve was actually there but he’s telling a completely different story to the history we’ve been taught. I shake the thoughts out of my head. Treason. If anything, this is Schmidt’s doing…

“You should get some rest,” Steve says.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I snap stubbornly but he only chuckles. I walk to the passenger seats behind the cockpit and take off my jacket, rolling it up as a pillow. Sleep comes shortly but not without the company of nightmares.

***

Johann Schmidt’s stronghold is based in Germany so his travel to the Red Room is arduous. As such, he does not expect to be met with news of rebellion.

“Tell Commander what you told me,” Rumlow states as he pushes Melina to the ground. Widows are lined up in the gathering hall.

“There has been talk of treason, Commander,” Melina whispers but Schmidt hears loud and clear. “Talk of America’s Prize being alive and well.”

“Lügen! Wer spricht von diesen Lügen?” he spits out like venom. Who speaks of these lies?

Rumlow answers with a name.

“Dreykov’s experiment?” Schmidt enquires.

“Yes, Commander.”

Schmidt clenches his jaw. “You are all dismissed.” As the Widows leave, Rumlow believes he is the exception to stay.

“Commander, what are you going to do?”

“Set course for Serbia.”

“Yes, Commander.”

🖤

please comment any feedback i beg

#marvel #reader insert #reader #mcu #fanfiction #bucky barnes #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #winter soldier #black widow!reader

[dearest-painter]

Ok so I just rewatched black widow and thought what about a platonic Yandere Miguel and spidervers with a teen spider!Reader who is like Natasha(Black Widow) they were kidnaped at a young age, then human trafficked before being bought by Hydra and brutally trained to be the perfect assassin. The perfect weapon. (They also we’re experimented on so there stronger,faster, and overall much better than a Spider-Man) How would Miguel’s first meeting with black widow!Reader go??

He would make sure that he seems less..dangerous as he knows you can kill him with your past. He’ll keep his distance as you two talk to each other, he makes sure you feel safe here. He wants to make sure you have someone to talk to

#yandere #please don’t do this #obession #unhealthy #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #gn reader #x gn reader #yandere x gn reader #✉️mail arrived✉️ #gender neutral y/n #yandere x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #genderfluid enity answers! #Black widow!Reader #yandere spider man across the spider verse #yandere spiderverse

[just-aake]

Detecting Love

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: A person with the power to detect lies meets the spy who has been trained to lie her entire life.

Warnings: fluff, light angst

Words: 6169

You have the power to detect lies. 

Now, it’s not exactly strong enough to be a hero, but you can honestly say that it has been useful in your life. 

Sure, it gets annoying at times, but one of the many lessons you’ve learned is to ignore minor instances of dishonesty — white lies or small things like that — since it helps reduce unnecessary confusion or chaos with others.

People lie. That is an undeniable fact of life.

And while one may believe that being able to detect such things is great, the truth is there are times when you find yourself resenting your power. 

Because, of course, everyone experiences moments when they wish that someone important to them isn't lying.

Like when your fiancée tells you she loves you.

There wasn’t really a malicious reason behind why a usually affectionate statement suddenly became so hurtful.

There was no cheating.

There was no fighting.

It was just another one of the many lessons you’ve learned in life.

That sometimes…a truth can also become a lie.

It’s just unfortunate that this lesson happened to you in such a way.

These kinds of moments make you wonder if maybe it’s better that people shouldn’t always know when someone is lying to them.

Then they don’t end up alone, drinking at a bar late into the night, trying to numb the pain of a broken heart.

You let out a heavy sigh as you stare at the pair of rings resting on the bar top, remembering the conversation that ended with one of them being returned to you. 

It was a heart-wrenching discussion where your fiancée confessed her steadily changed feelings for you, leading to the resolution to remain friends. 

And while neither of you is completely at fault for why things ended, you can’t help but blame your stupid power for putting you in the situation in the first place. 

You sigh heavily once more before swiftly downing the glass the bartender had set in front of you.

At least your current attempt to drown your sorrow is going well, judging by how the rings start to blur in your vision.

With a sad sigh, you reach for the rings to put them away, but in your clumsy state, one slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor.

Just as you move to retrieve it, a hand beats you to it. 

Looking up, you find a red-haired stranger standing before you, offering the ring to you with a charming smile.

She looks familiar but the drunken haze in your brain makes it hard for you to remember where you’ve seen her before.

“Here, you dropped this,” she says, her voice low and smooth.

She’s beautiful and her voice sounds perfect. You think to yourself as you take the ring from her.

She chuckles lightly, “Thanks.”

Oh, did you say that out loud? You must be more drunk than you thought.

The woman offers her hand to you in greeting, and with a confident smirk, she introduces herself.

“My name’s Natalie. Natalie Rushman.”

Immediately, a red aura surrounds her, causing you to roll your eyes and return your attention back to the bar. 

“Liar,” you mutter tiredly as you gesture to the bartender to close your tab, not really in the mood to deal with any more lies tonight.

At the corner of your eyes, you see the stranger give you a slightly impressed look.

Ready to leave, you stand up quickly from your seat.

However, the action makes the room suddenly spin in your vision, causing you to stagger backward. 

A hand steadies you, resting gently on your back, and you unconsciously lean back against her surprisingly strong frame for support.

There’s a soft chuckle near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Let me try again,” she whispers smoothly, guiding you upright and turning you around to face her.

Offering her hand once more, she reintroduces herself.

“My name’s Natasha Romanoff. I’m here to recruit you to work for the Avengers.”

You blink slowly, trying to comprehend her words through your drunken haze. You wonder if the alcohol is affecting you more than you thought when no red aura appears this time at her words.

Chuckling to yourself, you shake your head in disbelief, unfortunately worsening the pounding in your skull. 

Work for the Avengers? That has to be a lie.

Before you can think about it any further, you feel yourself falling once more, unable to remain upright.

Strong arms catch you, and as your consciousness fades, you see a blurry glimpse of her striking green eyes before succumbing to darkness.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

You wake to the pounding in your head and the bright sunlight streaming through your window. Turning away, you groan into your pillow, remembering that your fiancée – your ex-fiancée – would typically close the curtains before leaving for work.

Now that she’s gone, you’re going to have to adjust to living alone once again.

A cup being placed on the nightstand startles you into sitting up, as you turn in surprise to find the beautiful red-haired stranger beside your bed.

“For your headache,” she explains, placing some medicine next to the cup.

Your mouth hangs open as you struggle to remember the events of last night, some of which are honestly a blur. 

You examine yourself, checking your clothes and finding them unchanged from the previous night, and then you scan your surroundings again and realize in relief that nothing was out of place.

Well, except for the presence of this stranger in your home, who’s patiently waiting for you to gather yourself.

Searching through your drunken memories, you think you vaguely remember meeting her last night. She had mentioned her name was — Nata…? 

“Natalie?” you ask with uncertainty.

At her raised brow, you quickly apologize, feeling bad for not remembering correctly.

“I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember, but did we…did something happen between us last night?” you ask hesitantly.

Her face twists in genuine sadness and disappointment, causing a panic to run through you as you struggle to recall what could’ve possibly happened between the two of you for her to have such an expression.

“I’m hurt,” she finally says, placing a hand on her chest, “And after you even said that it was the best night of your life.”

Seeing the familiar red aura appear around her at her words, you let out a brief sigh of relief before realization sets in, and you give her a hard glare.

“You’re lying.”

Her hurt expression quickly morphs into an impressed look, and you are slightly startled at how effortlessly she was able to shift her emotions. 

The woman straightens her posture and crosses her arms, adopting a commanding stance that seems more likely her typical demeanor.

“So it’s not just luck,” she remarks, studying you curiously. 

At her words, you quickly rise from your bed in confusion.

However, the action causes you to wince in pain at the pounding in your head. 

Shutting your eyes tightly, you hold your head in comfort and lean lightly on the nightstand for support. 

As you do, your hand brushes against yesterday’s newspaper that you had been reading moments before your ex said those fateful three words that led to the heartbreaking conversation between the two of you. 

When the pain subsides, you slowly open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the front page before doing a double take.

The front features an article about the opening of the new Avenger Compound, including a photo capturing the Avenger members posed in front of the completed building. 

What catches you off guard is the uncanny resemblance between one of the Avengers in the picture and the woman standing before you.

Pointing at her in disbelief, you stammer.

“You’re…,” then, gesturing at the newspaper, you continue, “…her?”

She doesn’t respond to your question but instead nods toward your other room, inviting you to follow.

“Let’s talk,” she says, heading toward your door, then gestures at the medicine on your nightstand. “But drink those first.”

After freshening up in your bathroom, you take a moment to stare at your reflection in the mirror, noticing the remnants of last night’s tears in your slightly puffy, red eyes. 

Sighing, you brush away the depressing thoughts of your failed relationship before taking the medicine and exiting your room.

You are greeted by the sight of your unexpected guest comfortably seated at your kitchen counter, flipping through a magazine with casual disinterest.

“You’re Black Widow,” you say confidently this time, positioning yourself on the opposite side of her.

She closes the magazine with a snap, placing it on the table before clasping her hands atop of it and meeting your gaze.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects you, before nodding at you. “And you’re Y/n L/n.”

“How did you…?”

She holds up a wedding invitation draft, displaying you and your fiancée’s names printed in fine lettering. 

Realizing that she must have been snooping around your things, you give her a disapproving glare, snatching the card from her hand and hastily stuffing it into a drawer.

Feeling a mixture of emotions—irritated, sad, hungover—you turn to the fridge, deciding to make breakfast to give yourself some focus. 

After you retrieve the eggs and other ingredients, you heat the stove before glancing at Natasha briefly, asking, “So, what does an Avenger want from me?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see her resting her head against her hand, watching you with interest.

“I told you yesterday,” she replies.

You roll your eyes, giving her a deadpan look, knowing she’s aware that you don’t remember.

“Remind me again.”

Natasha gives you an amused smirk, straightening up in her seat. 

“Alright, I’m here to recruit you, more specifically for a sort of managerial position at the new Avenger Compound.”

Furrowing your brows, you question, “Why me? I don't have experience with that sort of thing.”

“But you can tell when someone is lying, can’t you?”

Pausing briefly in your cooking, you contemplate her words and its possible implications. Not many people know about your ability, and you don’t think you did anything to reveal it to the spy who’s currently staring expectantly at you.

So, in response, you shrug, replying as casually as possible. 

“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people…psychology degree and all.”

A silence ensues, broken only by the sizzling of your cooking, until Natasha finally nods, seemingly accepting your explanation.

You breathe a silent sigh of relief, returning your attention to your current task.

But then she pulls out a folder filled with documents and places it on the counter, causing your nerves to rise again.

“Well, you’ve helped solve hundreds of cases with your interviews of the suspects,” she remarks casually, flipping through the folder before glancing up at you through her lashes. 

“100% accuracy rate in the information that you provided to the detectives,” she continues, nodding at you in acknowledgment. “For a part-time profiler, that’s impressive.”

“Thanks,” you respond with a polite smile, but beneath the surface, a hint of suspicion creeps in as you begin plating the meal you made.

Natasha closes the folder with a definitive snap, making you look at her. 

“You could say it’s almost impossible,” she muses, before a confident smirk forms on her face, and she tilts her head at you with a raised brow in challenge. 

“Unless there’s some way you can guarantee that they’re telling the truth.”

Honestly, you should’ve known better than to think that the experienced spy hadn’t already completed thorough research and investigations into you and your powers before meeting with you.

If anything, this was likely just a test for her to confirm what she already knows about your abilities.

Sliding a plate across the counter to Natasha with a pointed glare, you relent, deciding there’s no point in denying it anymore.

“Fine, what do you know?” 

Instead of responding, Natasha’s gaze lingers on the plate before her, a hint of confusion in her expression. 

Her plate holds a fluffy omelette accompanied by a side of crispy bacon and a slice of golden-brown toasted bread.

As she glances back up at you with a questioning look in her eyes, you take a seat across from her, setting down a similar plate in front of you before also placing a stack of fluffy pancakes at the center.

“What’s this?” she asks, gesturing to the meal.

“Breakfast,” you reply bluntly, taking a bite from your plate.

Natasha raises a brow at you, remarking plainly, “It’s noon.”

“Brunch then,” you correct with a roll of your eyes.

Natasha's lips quirk up in amusement, and she shakes her head.

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.” 

The red aura appears around her, and with your mouth full of food, you give her a pointed glare.

“Right,” Natasha says in realization, remembering what you can do. She pulls the plate closer to her with a soft thanks. 

The atmosphere that followed was unusual but surprisingly not awkward. Despite being practically strangers, you find yourself slightly comforted by Natasha’s presence. 

If she wasn’t here, you probably wouldn’t have dragged yourself out of bed today after what happened yesterday.

After a moment of eating, Natasha breaks the silence.

“So, how can you tell when someone’s lying?”

Pausing to contemplate your answer, you wipe your mouth with a napkin before responding. 

“Well, when someone lies, there’s always this rush of chemicals that happens in their bodies,” you explain. “It ends up causing the typical indicators — things like fidgeting, sweating, or tone changes in their voice.”

“I didn’t do any of that, yet you still knew I was lying,” Natasha points out.

“No, you're right,” you admit, nodding. “You’re a perfect liar.”

From what you have seen so far, every expression and comment of hers appears genuine and honest, and if it was anyone else, they’d probably believe anything she says.

However, thanks to your ability, you know better. 

Gesturing at her, you clarify, “You still give off the same chemical reactions though, and I have the ability to see that.”

Natasha leans back in her seat, crossing her arms as she processes your explanation.

“It’s mainly visual then,” she concludes before asking curiously. “You don’t even need to hear what they said to know that they’re lying?” 

You nod, ruefully adding, “Yep, my world’s just filled with people glowing red at random.”

“And how long does this ‘glow’ stay around them?”

“Depends,” you reply with a shrug. “Usually not long, maybe a few seconds.”

Natasha hums in interest, tapping her chin, her brows pinching lightly in thought.

You can’t help but smile amusedly at the sight. 

For a person who has such an intimidating reputation, the spy in front of you right now looks kind of cute rather than scary.

After a moment, you break the silence this time.

“So, what’s the job?” 

Natasha’s eyes focus back on you at your question.

“Nothing too complicated,” she assures. “You’ll be in charge of interviewing the new employee candidates and conducting continuous reviews of the current ones.”

“You mean like screening them?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion, already aware of the rigorous and difficult process required to work at the Avengers buildings. 

“Don’t you guys already do extensive background checks before hiring people? Why do you suddenly need me?”

At your question, a charming smile appears on her face, effortlessly shifting her expression like before, though now you understand she’s just hiding her true feelings about the situation.

“That’s confidential.”

You scoff in disbelief and cross your arms.

“You do know that just makes it harder to trust you, right?”

Natasha mirrors your posture, her pretty grin still in place, masking any other emotions.

“Fair point,” she admits. “But to be honest, you should never put your trust in people like me anyway.”

“People like you?” 

“Spies,” Natasha clarifies as she begins to gather her empty plate and utensils. “Which is one of the types of people you’d be looking out for in this position. Their deception skills would be on a similar level to mine.”

You chuckle at that, causing Natasha to pause in her actions, raising a brow at you in question.

“Sorry, but everyone lies, whether you’re a spy or not,” you tell her, standing and taking the empty plate from her with a small smirk. “You’re just slightly better at it.”

A tiny offended look slips through Natasha’s expression at your little jab, her brow furrowing for a brief second.

Your grin widens at the sight of seeing a glimpse of her real self as you turn to place the dirty dishes in the sink.

Natasha quickly regains her composure, moving around the counter to lean back against the table next to you.

“In any case, the decision is still yours. I’ve already confirmed your abilities. It’s up to you to decide if you want to accept.”

At her words, you pause to consider your options. 

A new job working with the Avengers is a great opportunity, but it would be a significant change in your life. 

Then again, you’re already facing a huge change.

Your eyes unconsciously drift to the drawer next to where Natasha is leaning, where the wedding invitation draft remains, and your face twists in sadness at the memory. 

You guess it wouldn’t hurt to add a career change alongside your new relationship status.

At least this way you can still earn a salary while also distracting yourself from the depressing thoughts of your failed engagement. 

“Okay,” you decide, meeting Natasha’s gaze with a sigh, “I’ll take the job.”

“Great, I knew you would be agreeable,” Natasha remarks, extending her hand to you.

A red aura appears around her, causing you to huff and roll your eyes.

You take her hand in yours, giving her a tiny glare.

“Liar.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

You say that as you dodge another swing from Natasha, ducking under her arm to get behind her, only for her to twist her body around and deliver a kick that you narrowly block with your arms. 

Still, the impact has you stumbling back.

“Really?” Natasha asks with an innocent tone as she circles you. “I thought I mentioned to you that training was a part of your employment.”

A red aura begins to appear around her, but you don’t have time to comment before she swings her leg at you again. 

You catch it against your side with a small grunt of pain.

Having been a profiler for criminal cases before, you do have basic defense training, and you always believed that you could hold your own against most aggressors. 

At least you used to.

This current fight is making you reconsider your skills.

With her off-balance position, you attempt to throw her to the ground, but Natasha swiftly regains her footing, catching herself on her hands and executing a fluid movement to flip upright. She then bends low, sweeping your legs out from under you.

You land on the mat with a groan, feeling the impact reverberate through your body. Another pained breath escapes you as Natasha expertly pins you down.

You catch the faint red aura fading from her before throwing your head back against the mat with an exhausted sigh.

“You’re such a liar,” you breathe out, your voice tinged with both exhaustion and playful accusation. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to catch your breath.

Natasha's laughter fills the air, resonating above you, her amusement infectious and drawing a small grin from you. You peek open your eyes, watching as she disengages from atop you and heads over to her water bottle at the side.

“I’m a spy. It comes with the job,” she says casually, taking a sip.

“Okay, and I’m basically just HR,” you counter, pulling yourself upright into a sitting position. “So how does combat training fit into that?”

Natasha gestures towards you with a sweep of her hand.

“You need to be prepared to defend yourself if you ever expose someone dangerous and find yourself without backup,” she explains.

“That’s unlikely considering I haven’t even encountered anyone suspicious since I started,” you remark with a sigh.

It's been a month already, and you're starting to question if your presence here is even necessary.

Before you can dwell further on your thoughts, the cold touch of a metal water bottle against your cheek startles you.

Recoiling, you look up to see Natasha holding it out to you.

Raising a brow, Natasha waves the bottle lightly in offer.

You snatch the bottle from her with a tiny glare, but she only smirks in response.

Apart from the new job, the other surprising addition to your life is your budding friendship with the Avenger. 

After the whole recruiting ordeal, you honestly expected to only have passing encounters with her at the compound.

However, to your surprise, on your first day here, Natasha was the one who volunteered to give you a tour of the place, and in the days that followed, the two of you would often share coffee and chat before you had to head off to your respective jobs.

Those regular interactions with her also earned you a fearsome reputation among the other workers, which actually works out in your favor since they’re already nervous by the time you call them in for a review. This way they are more likely to slip up and reveal anything they may be hiding.

But, like you said, you haven’t found anything substantial yet.

With a heavy sigh, you pull your knees to your chest, resting your forehead against them, feeling the weight of failure bearing down on you.

Then you hear Natasha plop down beside you.

“Back when we met, you asked me why we needed you,” she begins.

Curious at her words, you turn your head slightly to glance at her, waiting for her explanation.

Natasha leans back on her hands, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as she continues to speak.

“A couple of months ago, our surveillance revealed that someone within the compound staff was plotting an attack during the opening ceremony of the new building. However, we couldn’t confirm who it was without risking exposing that we knew of their plan."

Your eyes widen in confusion at the revelation. From what you remember, the opening ceremony was a success. There hadn’t been any news of an attack that day.

“But you caught them, right?” you inquire.

“No,” Natasha responds, shaking her head before meeting your gaze. “You did.”

Surprised, you straighten up, giving her a questioning look.

Natasha offers a small smile, elaborating, “You had recently interviewed him as a suspect for another case, and in your notes, you labeled him as dangerous and untrustworthy, despite everything about him proving otherwise.”

“And you believed me?” you ask incredulously.

Natasha shrugs, “Well, I had no other leads at the time anyway.”

You scoff in exasperation at her teasing, playfully pushing her away.

She chuckles softly before adopting a more serious expression.

“Trust in your abilities, Y/n,” Natasha says with a genuine tone. “If it’s you, not finding anyone suspicious is a good thing.”

You watch her closely, waiting for the red aura to appear.

But as a couple of seconds pass and nothing changes, you tuck your forehead back against your knees, this time to hide the smile threatening to spread across your face.

“Alright, break’s over,” Natasha announces, giving your back an encouraging pat. “Let’s go again.”

You groan in reluctance, remaining in your curled-up position.

“Come on,” Natasha urges, her tone coaxing. “I’ll go easy on you this time.”

You don’t even need to look up to know the red aura is surrounding her.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“What’s this?”

Natasha's voice draws your attention away from the task of pouring cooked popcorn into a bowl.

She's sitting on your sofa, examining a small, elegant card that you had accidentally left on the table.

Widening your eyes in realization of what she’s found, you hurry over to her, but her narrowed eyes tell you that she has already read the names on the card.

“She’s inviting you to her wedding?” Natasha exclaims, disbelief coloring her tone. “It’s only been a year since your breakup, and now she’s already getting married?!”

Sighing in disappointment, you had hoped to keep this information from Natasha, who developed a strong dislike for your ex after you shared the details of your breakup during one of your girls' nights.

Placing the bowl of popcorn on the table, you take the invitation from her hand and head to the kitchen, intending to tuck it away in a drawer. 

As you slide it open, you catch the sight of the old wedding draft buried at the bottom, which causes a tiny pang of sadness in your chest at the memory of that time, of how everything changed so suddenly.

You can't help but wonder how your life might have unfolded if your engagement hadn't ended.

Would you still have accepted Natasha's offer if you hadn't been seeking a distraction from your failed relationship? 

“You’re not thinking about going, are you?” Natasha's voice interrupts your thoughts. 

Glancing up, you notice a peculiar look in her eyes, though it quickly shifts to a neutral expression at your gaze.

After a whole year of spending time together, you could tell underneath her impassive expression that she was upset about something; though, you figured it was just outrage at the situation.

Tossing the invitation into the drawer and shutting it, you offer her a small reassuring smile before returning to your seat beside her to start the movie.

“No, of course not,” you tell her.

As the opening scenes play, you maintain a normal, nonchalant expression, aware of Natasha's gaze still lingering on you even as the red aura fades from around your body.

After a while, Natasha huffs in disbelief before finally settling into the sofa, pulling the bowl of popcorn into her lap.

“You better be sharing that, Romanoff,” you tease, your eyes fixed on the screen.

Natasha scoffs before tossing a piece of popcorn at you.

“Of course, I will.”

Just as you're about to turn your head to look at her and confirm her honesty, she swiftly shoves a cushion pillow to the side of your face, blocking your view.

After a few seconds, she releases it, fluffing the cushion casually before leaning her head against your shoulder and tossing another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

You chuckle at her antics, amused by her playful behavior, before returning your attention to the screen.

A few days later, you find yourself standing on the outskirts of the wedding area, observing as servers and workers hustle to complete the finishing touches.

A sad, bittersweet expression tugs at your lips as you recognize familiar details chosen by your ex, mingled with hints of a stranger’s preferences in the decorations.

To be honest, you don’t intend to stay for the wedding. You're just here to confirm something for yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, conjuring your ex’s face in your mind, and whisper to yourself. 

“I’m in love with her…”

Opening your eyes, you exhale slowly, a content smile on your lips as you notice the red aura surrounding your skin. It's a relief to be able to find closure regarding your feelings for your ex.

“You know, I don’t need powers to know you were lying,” a voice remarks from behind.

Startled, you turn to find Natasha approaching.

She stops beside you, her gaze fixed at the scene ahead as she accuses, “Saying that you weren’t going to come here.”

You look at her briefly before returning your attention to the field.

“I got curious about something,” you admit. “Figured that this was one way to confirm it.”

Excited and happy chatter fills the air as your ex appears, surrounded by friends and family.

Suddenly, thoughts of what-ifs from the other night resurface, prompting you to ask out loud unconsciously before you can stop yourself.

“Do you think I should’ve just pretended that she was telling the truth at that time — when she said she loved me?” you ask Natasha. “Maybe it might’ve worked out between us if I just kept my mouth shut.”

There’s a beat of silence before Natasha finally responds, her tone tinged with wistfulness.

“From my experience,” she begins, “I can tell you that living a lie would not make you happy…no matter how much you wish for it to be true.”

You chuckle lightly, “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I am,” Natasha says confidently.

A comfortable silence falls between you as you both observe the preparations from a distance.

“She is a fool for letting you go, though,” Natasha suddenly adds, her tone casual.

You laugh softly, gently chiding her, “You can’t call the bride that on her wedding day.”

“Alright then,” Natasha concedes, turning to you. “You’re an even bigger fool for coming here by yourself.”

She returns her gaze to the field, muttering under her breath with a hint of irritation, “…still visiting the one who broke your heart.”

Amused, you tilt your head to catch her eyes, chuckling at her words, as you tease, “You know, it almost sounds like you’re jealous.”

When Natasha doesn’t respond or look at you, you raise a brow in surprise and poke her side. 

“Wait, seriously, are you jealous?”

She swats your hand away.

“Stop that,” Natasha reprimands, before gritting out, “I’m not jealous!”

A small grin forms on your face as you notice the red aura appear, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and walk away.

“I’m leaving,” she declares firmly.

“Aww, come on, Natasha,” you call as you trail behind her.

Glancing back at you and seeing your pleased expression, she points at you in warning.

“That smile better be off your face by the time I pull up, or else you’re walking home,” she states before continuing on her way.

Watching her go with a fond smile, you find yourself softly repeating the words.

“I’m in love with her.”

Looking down, your smile widens when you don’t see the red aura appear, confirming what you already knew about your feelings for the red-haired spy.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

As you sit in your office at the Avenger compound, you feel a sense of fatigue wash over you at your busy schedule of back-to-back interviews.

Across from you, the final candidate squirms in her seat, clearly nervous under your scrutinizing gaze. 

A chill sweeps through the room, courtesy of the cold blast of air from the AC, and you can't help but regret your decision to have it set so cold, a choice originally intended to maintain an intimidating atmosphere during interviews. 

With a sigh, you reluctantly pull your hands from the cozy warmth of your hoodie pocket and turn to the next page of questions.

"Let's talk about handling confidential information," you begin, your voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Can you share a time when you had to ensure the secure handling of sensitive data?"

The candidate responds with some slight hesitation, but you sense it’s more from her nerves than any dishonesty, so you continue, moving on to the remaining questions.

Luckily, the rest of the interview goes by quickly and smoothly with her answering the other questions without any problems.

However, now comes the final question of the interview.

“Among the Avengers, who do you consider to be the hottest?”

Clearly caught off-guard, she stumbles over her words, “W-what?” 

Maintaining your serious demeanor, you repeat the question.

“Who do you believe is the hottest Avenger?”

After a moment's pause, she softly answers, “Black Widow..."

Setting your clipboard down, you extend your hand.

"Thank you for coming. It was nice meeting you," you say, signaling the end of the interview.

As she thanks you and leaves, you flip to the last paper on your clipboard, revealing a sheet with tick marks beside the names of your Avenger friends.

With an amused smile, you add another mark at the end of Natasha’s already leading line.

“I don’t think that last question was approved by Steve,” a voice accuses from the doorway.

Glancing up, you see Natasha leaning against the frame, her arms folded.

You shrug in response, “Makes it more interesting though.”

Natasha hums curiously before moving to your side, perching on the edge of your desk. Her narrowed eyes fix on you.

“Is that my hoodie?” she asks in suspicion as she tugs at your sleeve.

“Maybe,” you reply, hastily pulling the hood over your head to conceal your guilty eyes.

Natasha had left the piece of clothing at your place after her last visit, and given the chilly room, borrowing it seemed harmless enough.

“Don’t you have a briefing to get to?” you deflect, attempting to change the subject.

Natasha huffs knowingly before responding, "I had some spare time, so I came to bother you."

"I’m honored," you quip sarcastically, though inwardly your heart warmed at the fact that she thought of you.

Natasha chuckles lightly, then gestures towards your clipboard.

"Ask me some questions," she prompts, her tone playful yet eager.

Deciding to indulge her, you reach for your clipboard and adopt a serious demeanor.

“Name?” you begin.

Natasha shoots you a deadpan look, prompting you to show her the document with the question written on it.

“If they lie about their name, then that’s a red flag already,” you defend, giving her a pointed look.

“Natalie,” you mock.

Natasha chuckles, shaking her head at the memory before extending her hand.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects, playing along.

Skipping past the other general questions, you delve into more targeted inquiries related to threat assessment.

“Have you ever been associated with any extremist or radical groups or organizations?” you ask.

“If you consider working undercover to gain intel on them, then yes,” Natasha responds without hesitation.

“Have you ever participated or been involved in any violent behavior where someone was hurt?”

This one makes her pause for a moment before she finally admits softly, "…yes."

As the questioning continues, Natasha's playful demeanor gradually fades, replaced by a rueful tone.

By the time you reach the final question, she places her hand on your clipboard, gently setting it down on the desk.

"Maybe these questions aren’t meant for people like me," she says sadly, her tone filled with regret.

Observing her disappointed expression, you scoot closer and rest your hand on hers to draw her attention.

“Do you still want to hear my final assessment?” you ask gently.

After a contemplative pause, Natasha nods, curiosity evident in her eyes as she gestures for you to continue.

“Well, based on your answers,” you say with a dramatic pause, flipping through the papers before shaking your head firmly.

“Absolutely not. Extremely dangerous. Definitely a high-risk candidate.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief at your teasing and gives you a playful push. As your laughter subsides, you soften your tone, meeting her gaze sincerely.

“But…I’d trust you,” you admit genuinely.

Natasha's eyes widen slightly before she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. Her fingers toy with the clipboard, flipping to the last page and seeing the score sheet, before chuckling in amusement.

Turning back to you, she tilts her head with a raised brow.

“I don’t get the special question?” she asks.

You take the clipboard from her, offering a knowing look as you begin to organize the documents on your desk.

“I think we both already know your answer to that question,” you reply.

“Then ask me another,” Natasha insists.

Her request makes you pause as you ponder what to ask. Only one thing comes to mind, the question you’ve been hesitating to ask her for a long time.

Meeting her expectant gaze, you find yourself wanting to know the answer, despite the fear in your mind at the possibility of causing another big change in your life again.

Summoning your courage, you face her directly.

“Would you…,” you start, faltering momentarily before gathering yourself with a deep breath.

“...would you say ‘yes’ if I asked you out on a date tonight?”

There's a moment of silence, and just as you consider retracting the question, Natasha reaches out and adjusts the hood atop your head.

Perplexed by her action, you watch her suspiciously. Then, in one swift motion, she pulls the hood down over your eyes, obscuring your vision.

“No,” her voice responds to your question.

Hearing her stand, you quickly remove the hood to see Natasha already making her way out of the door, but before she disappears from your view, you catch the red aura surrounding her slowly fading away.

As an excited smile spreads across your face at the revelation of her true answer, your phone on the desk pings with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from Natasha.

I’ll pick you up tonight. 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Thank you for reading! I know I said I was going to take a little break, but I had some time so I ended up finishing this and decided to post it now instead of later.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff