#civilian!reader x natasha romanoff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

katethewriter · 2 years

Note

Wandanat taking care of y/n after they get back home from a mission to robbery gone wrong at their house please 🙏

Safe Now

Pairing: WandaNat x civilian!Reader

Words: 3k~

Warnings: violence, beating, dragging, kicking, robbery gone wrong, nightmares, reader needs a hug, if I need to add any please let me know

A/N: thank you so much for the request anon! I hope I did it justice! Keep the requests coming!

Autumn leaves crunch underneath boot heels. The cool wind blows wisps of red hair around in a frenzy. Streetlamps are the only thing illuminating the ground as the pair approach their house.

Its the first time they’ve been home in days. Both Wanda and Nat had been sent off on a week long mission. They were supposed to have returned home yesterday, but a delay in the mission and a repair on the quinjet pushed the return back another day and a half.

When their quinjet touched down late into the night, the pair had considered staying at the compound for the night and returning to their home outside the city in the morning. However, they missed you. Something in the back of their heads told them they needed to go home now.

This isn’t the first time they have left you alone while they were both on mission, but coming home was different this time. They could feel it as they walked up the pathway to the front door.

Wanda reaches out to stop her wife, and her brow furrows.

“What is it?”

Something is wrong. Thats what she wants to say, but instead she just shakes her head and continues on.

They’re tired, exhausted from a long mission. That’s why they miss the early signs.

Natasha slips the key into the lock, and chills run down her back. She pushes the door open quietly and steps inside.

They expect you to be asleep, tucked away upstairs amongst a mountain of pillows. It’s the only way you can sleep when they are not home.

The first thing that hits them is the temperature. It’s just as cool indoors as it is outdoors. As they make their way into the house, everything looks as it should. From down the hall, they can see the kitchen light is still on.

“Milaya?” they call out quietly so as not to spook you.

“Lyubov?” but they get no response.

The two follow the light into the open floor plan kitchen/living room, and that’s when they see it.

The house is wrecked for lack of a better term. Broken dishes are scattered across the counters and floors. A kitchen chair is turned on its side. The sliding glass door to the backyard is shattered, glass littered everywhere. Drawers are open. The tv and all electronics really are gone.

Most importantly, you are nowhere to be found.

“Y/N?!”

They call out for you in unison and still receive no answer.

Wanda runs for the stairs, following the sound of your thoughts that get louder with every step, “Y/n?!” She takes the steps two at a time; Natasha is right behind her.

“Y/N?!” they cry out. Running into your shared bedroom, they still don’t see you. “Y/n?” The room looks just like the downstairs. Drawers are pulled open; objects are thrown about. The closet door hangs slightly open.

Wanda runs to it, “Y/n?” Throwing the door open, she reveals you curled up on the ground. Your hands and feet are tied together. A scarf is tied around your head, gagging your mouth.

When the door opens, you expect to see the people who did this to you, back to finish the job. You look up wildly and scramble away from the door the best you can. Relief washes over you when you see your wives standing in the door way.

Tears stream down your face, and you reach for them with your wrists bound together.

Wanda kneels before you, “detka! Are you ok? What happened?” She pulls the scarf away from your face, “what happened? Who did this?” Sobs erupt from your hoarse throat. She moves on to untie your hands while Natasha cuts through the binding around your ankles.

Once you’re free, you crawl into Wanda’s lap and cling to her tightly.

“You’re safe y/n; we’re here,” she wraps her arms around you, tightly cradling your body to hers. “You’re safe now,” she rocks you back and forth.

“We’ve got you,” Natasha runs her hands up and down your back. Making eye contact with Wanda, she whispers, “We need to sweep the house, make sure there’s no one left-”

“Go,” Wanda nods, “I’ve got her.”

Natasha presses a kiss to the back of your head. The last thing she wants to do is leave you right now, but Wanda is here. She has to make sure that you’re alone in the house. She also needs to call Steve. They need the team on this to find whoever is responsible. Reluctantly, she stands and exits the closet.

Wanda watches her wife pull her gun before leaving the closet, closing the door behind her. She then turns her attention back to the wife in her lap. She pulls away to take a look at you. She feels anger build in her as her eyes take in every bruise and cut that riddles your body.

“Milaya, can you look at me?” Despite her anger, she is soft as snow with you, “what happened, love?”

You shake your head as you bury yourself into Wanda’s neck.

Wanda tries to blink away tears; it hurts her to see you in pain. She feels helpless. She needs to know some details in order to help her wife. With the state you are in, communication is near impossible. Wanda has another option, but she can’t bring herself to make you live it again.

“Can you tell me, please?”

Sobs still rack your body as Wanda rocks back and forth. She knows she has no other choice.

Wanda presses a long kiss to your temple, “may I look?” She kisses your temple again to help you understand her question, "in here?"

There’s a pause. Wanda regrets she even asked, but somewhere between your cries, you manage to nod your head. Granting Wanda permission.

“Ok,” Wanda holds you a bit tighter and kisses your head, “I’m sorry.” Reluctantly, she hovers her fingers over your temple. Red wisps dance between her fingers before they sink beneath your skin.

Both of you slip into your mind to find the all too painful memory.

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

Light peers in through the kitchen windows. The clock reads 9:30 am.

The smell of coffee fills the air. As you enter the kitchen to pour yourself another cup.

Aside from the birds singing outside, it’s quiet, near silent. It always is when Natasha and Wanda are away. They were supposed to be home yesterday, but they will be home today.

You’re lost in the warm thoughts of being together again when the sound of shattering glass makes you drop your mug.

Looking up, you see three men entering the house through the broken glass doors. They look just as shocked to see you as you are to see them. The only difference being the utter fear in your eyes.

It happens so fast.

All three of them rush you at once. You run, trying to reach the panic button disguised as a light switch, but you don’t make it.

One of them grabs your shoulder, while the other grips your shirt. Not giving up, you thrash in their hold, still trying to get to that switch, one of many spread throughout the house.

It was Natasha’s idea, but Wanda was onboard immediately. You hadn’t really felt they were necessary, but the look in their eyes changed your mind.

You’ve witnessed the nightmares. The ones that have Nat sitting up, sobbing in the middle of the night. The absolute worst ones. Her worst nightmare is not that her past has caught up to her. No, her worst nightmare is that her past has caught up to you.

Wanda insists. She’s making new enemies by the day since she joined the avengers. After losing her parents and her brother, she begs you to agree. “I can’t lose you,” she whispered, “please.”

So you agreed to settle their worries. The hidden points all throughout the house did in fact make you feel safer. If you’re ever in trouble, you know you can push one, and your wives will come save you immediately.

If only you could reach it.

You fight and fight, but the switch is just out of your reach.

You can tell these aren’t any enemies of your wives. Their fighting is weak and sloppy. They’re barely holding on to you, and there’s two of them against one of you.

Just because these aren’t trained fighters/assassins/secret agents, doesn’t mean they can’t still do considerable damage.

You’re reminded of this when one strikes you in the back of the head. You stop fighting then. You try to keep fighting for your wives, but your vision is going blurry and your body isn’t responding to you like it usually does.

After that, you’re not really aware of what’s going on around you. The men are yelling at you, asking questions, screaming at you and you’re not hearing any of it. The screams then mix with blows, a fist to the face, throwing you from wall to wall, and eventually a few kicks to the stomach.

By the time it’s all over, you are alone in the bottom of your closet. You remember there’s a safe button on the side of the shoe rack, but one attempt to shift closer to it erupts into deep pain everywhere.

Taking in the situation, you realize you’re tied up at the hands and feet. A scarf gagging your mouth. You’re completely alone, with no way to go get help or cry for help…

… and no idea when your wives will be home to find you.

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

Suddenly, you are back on the closet floor with Wanda’s arms around you.

The thrust back into the present is violent. More violent than Wanda is used to.

Your sobs return with a new ferocity. Gripping Wanda even tighter, you try to convince yourself that it’s over. Nat and Wanda are here. You are safe.

Wanda feels a rage she has never known. Watching the memory, Wanda knows these intruders were not a part of any organization. They were just a few greedy civilians. They beat the love of her life and left her for dead. All over a couple valuables.

“I tried,” your lilting voice draws Wanda’s attention back to what’s most important, “I tried to reach the switch.”

“Sh sh sh,” the witch pulls you closer to her careful not to pull too hard. “I know, shhhh. You did the best you could detka,” she whispers in your ear, “I’m so sorry we weren’t here moya lyubov.” Tears spill down her face at the thought of what could have been. “I’m so so sorry.”

“Please don’t go again,” you scramble as close to her as possible, “please don’t leave me.”

Wanda pulls away just enough to cup your face and look into your eyes, “I am here, and I am not going anywhere ok?”

She waits for you to nod your head.

When you do, she continues, “we are here with you. You are safe. We are gonna get you taken care of. Ok?”

There’s a knock at the door, and panic seizes you again. You cling to Wanda trying to put as much distance between you and the door as possible.

“Shhhhh,” Wanda rubs your back to calm you down, “it’s just Nat, detka.”

You peak out of Wanda’s beck to see your other wife kneeling in front of you.

“Natasha?”

“I’m here, lyubov,” the widow reaches out for you, and you crawl into her arms. She holds you so gently, you forget the brutality her hands are capable of.

Wanda mentally relays what she learned from your memory. Not the whole thing, but the important details. When Nat is fully caught up, she grips you just a bit tighter, never wanting to let you go again.

“There’s no one else in the house,” Nat says more to Wanda than to you. You are so far buried into her neck, you can’t hear anything but your cries and the beating of your heart. “I called Steve,” she continues, “he’s gathering a team. They’ll be out here shortly to investigate.”

Wanda runs her fingers through your hair and makes eye contact with Nat. “She panicked when you knocked on the door. I don’t think she can take that many people right now,” she speaks directly into Natasha’s mind.

The widow nods in understanding. “Love,” she pulls away to get your attention, “can you look at me?” She wipes the tears from your face as your breathing starts to settle again. “Do you want to stay at the compound? We’ll get out of here before they get to the house. How does that sound?”

“We can have Cho check you out and get you tucked into bed before the rest of them get back,” Wanda tucks hair behind your ear, “would that be ok?”

You nod your head, knowing you don’t have a voice.

Wanda presses a long kiss to your forehead, followed by a few more, “come love.” She stands, and you whimper at the loss of contact. “I’m right here,” she reaches down to you.

Together, they help you to your feet, “neither of us are going anywhere. I promise you that.” Natasha has an arm wrapped around your waist, “do you think you can walk?”

Nodding, you take one step just fine. The next step, however, has your ankle rolling underneath you and your body crumbling to the floor in pain.

Quickly Wanda and Natasha catch you before you hit the ground. Natasha takes you into her arms as gently as she can and carries you down to the car.

Much later at night, more like very early the next morning, they finally have you tucked away between them in their bedroom in the compound.

Natasha first carried you to the med bay. Cho bandaged your wounds, wrapped your sprained ankle, and checked you for a concussion. Once you were cleared, Natasha carried you up to their bathroom where Wanda was already drawing a bath.

Now, you are clean and warm, with your wives on either side of you watching over you protectively. Sleeping with help of medication.

Wanda lies beside you; her chest acting as your pillow. Her fingers filtered through your hair that smelled of her shampoo.

Nat lies behind you. An elbow on the pillow props her head up enough for her to look down at you. A hummed melody floats from her throat to your ears quietly to keep you asleep. She traces patterns on your back careful to avoid any tender spots. Careful kisses are placed on your shoulder.

Knowing they won’t be able to sleep, they will sit in this bed and watch you sleep for however long you need them to. Neither one willing to leave this room.

They only ever use this room if they need to crash after a late night mission. Ever since the three of you moved into the house, they would much rather come home to you. You have only slept in here after one or two of Tony’s parties when everyone was a little too drunk to make it home.

Sitting up, contemplating the night’s events, Natasha can’t stop imagining what could have happened if they had stayed at the tower instead of going home to you.

“But we didn’t,” Wanda stops Natasha’s thoughts with her own.

They lock eyes, Nat counters, “she would have been like that all night.”

“But she wasn’t,” the witch stops her again. She looks down to you and strokes your cheek. “We can’t go down that path. We're here now. She's here now, and she needs us-"

As if on cue, you begin to writhe in their arms. You break out into a cold sweat, and your breathing spikes. Your face crumples as a nightmare grips your entire body.

"Shhhh, detka," they coo, "you're safe. You're ok; it's not real."

They try to gently shake you to wake you up. However, afraid that you were going to hurt yourself, they ended up just holding you still.

"Wake her up, Wanda."

The witch nods and quickly does so. Your eyes spring open as you frantically look around the room.

"Hey look at me," Wanda cups your cheek, "it's just us, detka. You're safe. We're in the compound; no one can hurt you."

"I think they're here. Are they here?" your voice croaks in between ragged breaths.

"Shhhhh," Natasha runs her hand up and down your arm, "they're not here. The team found them. They're on their way to the raft now. They will never hurt you again."

You collapse against your wives, falling into tears again. They hold you until your sobs reduce to hiccups, wishing they could take this pain from you.

Eventually the three of your breathing syncs, and you are almost calm again.

"Hold me tighter," you whisper, "please."

Of course, they oblige, burrowing as close to you as possible.

"We love you," Wanda presses a long kiss to your forehead.

Natasha echoes into your ear, "we love you so much."

For the first time tonight, a small smile graces your face, "I love you."

"You need to sleep as best you can, lyubov."

Your entire body tenses at the thought. You can't sleep. You don't want to risk reliving the nightmare again.

"I can give you a good dream," Wanda offers. Her fingers trace patterns on your arm.

Once again, you relax back into the embrace of your wives, nodding gratefully.

With a wave of her fingers, Wanda plants a memory in your subconscious. She chooses the night Natasha proposed to you and Wanda, one of the best nights of your lives.

"Sleep, neither of us are leaving."

They both kiss your head again, whispering reassurances of their love and protection.

Your eyes slip closed, and you drift off to sleep feeling safe and oh so loved.

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munariplans · 3 months

Text

welcome home, red | natasha romanoff

synopsis: natasha knew going on a mission where you were deliberately left out was a bad idea. going on a mission tracking down your ex-girlfriend was even worse; for natasha finally learns how jealous she can get.

natasha romanoff x reader | felicia hardy x reader

word count: 6.7k words

a/n: i see your requests for jealous!natasha with spidey!reader, and i got you :) hope you enjoy!

masterlist

BREAKING NEWS: CURIOSITY KILLS THE CAT? you know what they say, strike when the iron is hot! well, the black cat, infamous for her string of break-ins and robberies, may have struck the iron and burned herself. stealing a prized necklace from the wife of new york’s biggest crime boss, the black cat has certainly outdone herself this time, because silvio manfredi is out for her head, and everyone else’s too! read more on page 6 of this exclusive piece.

perplexed expressions, furrowed eyebrows, sighs of frustration. everyone was on edge, at the threat of the manfredi family wanting to blow up entire parts of new york in order to find the black cat. villains were so dramatic, natasha thought. in no universe would she have ever wanted to threaten to kill entire cities for the love of her life, if one even existed.

but then her phone chimed in with a notification from you, sending a photo of her favourite animal that you spotted on your mission, and she knew she would be retracting her words. even in life-threatening, death-defying missions that you were on, you never forgot to see her everywhere you went. stupid feelings, and stupid crushes, natasha shut her eyes, fighting the urge to giggle at a text from the person she was head over heels for.

“natasha?”

she looked up from her phone, to realise she was the only one still in a half-positive mood. everyone else was biting their lips in worry. she regained her composure, and answered fury, “yeah?”

“you heard me? we’re not leaking this information to her. she won’t be a part of this mission at all.”

the look of confusion on her face gave her away. clint, maria, and fury answered her at the same time.

“your little crush.”

“your wife that you claim isn’t.”

“the person you’re smiling at your phone like an idiot at.”

she glared at clint for the last remark.

“...is there a reason why?” the mission had seemed almost perfectly suited to your skillset.

fury merely shrugged. “no reason. it should just be you three that are privy to this information, that’s all. find the black cat, find the necklace, use it to rope manfredi in, and one less crime boss off the streets.”

even then, she had a nagging feeling that he had not been telling the truth.

–

you ended your latest mission with a bang; quite literally. being flung about fifty metres into the air from a bomb explosion in the middle of the ocean, you would hardly call the mission a failure. no civilians were injured, you had killed the maker of the bomb along with it, and you were not dead, at least.

washing up on shore unconscious and with water in your lungs? a concussion that would have sent any regular person into a permanent coma? being found by villagers and rushed to the medical wing of the avengers tower within a span of a few hours? almost pronounced dead on arrival? sure, you were all of those, but not dead.

honestly, you would have given very little regard for your own life being lost in that mission if not for one person. the one person who stayed with you until the very last minute for her own mission.

“i need to stop welcoming you back in a hospital bed, you know,” natasha grumbled into your neck, hugging you bone-crushingly when you awoke and smiled at her.

she looked mad, but you knew she was just thankful you were home. you wrapped your arms around her waist and brought her to lie down on top of you. she was reluctant to crush your already broken ribs, but you were insistent. “i missed you too. and if i hadn’t been blown up, i had planned to bring back a souvenir from the airport for you.”

“you coming back is enough for me,” she mumbled. you knew she was never this vulnerable with anyone else. the words of because i love you were begging to roll off her tongue, but natasha knew she wasn’t strong enough for that. yet.

you let her ignore the first call for her to assemble at the loading zone, then the second, by the third, your hand had tapped her waist and she had groaned into you once more. “i don’t want to go.”

“what’s this mission about, anyway? nobody’s told me about it since i got here.”

natasha considered her choice of words for a moment, considering whether she should, when fury’s own warnings came back to her. she was never one to break promises. “just some…thing. about retrieving something and using it to lure a criminal.”

you chuckled. “seems like more of a police case than an avenger’s one. or one for a friendly neighbourhood spider.”

“well, the friendly neighbourhood spider looks like a mummy right now, so i don’t think so,” she had reluctantly got up, gathering her things, “i’ll see you in a few days?”

you let her hug you goodbye. “by then, i’ll be fit enough to welcome you home. properly.”

–

natasha once again found it hard to understand why fury hadn’t just waited for you to get slightly better, and go for this mission yourself, because the black cat’s tricks and games were definitely something you could have handled better than anyone he had assigned on the current team. she struggled to even catch up with the woman, and clint’s arrows often couldn’t squeeze deep enough into the slips and cracks she was slipping through. maria couldn’t even get a shot or trap clear to get to her. it would all have been solved so quickly with your webs zipping and getting to her; not to mention your ability to soar through the skies like she could.

this was in addition to the fact that she was adamantly denying having the necklace with her.

with another hit to the face, she was shouting to natasha, “i don’t have what you’re looking for!”

natasha swallowed the blood gathering in her mouth. the woman could throw a punch. “then why are you running?” black cat cornered her this time, slamming her against the wall as her breath mixed with natasha’s. immediately, it was too close, far too close. the grin that the enemy was sporting for her was glinting with mischief, and a trace of attraction. “...if someone as pretty as you were chasing me, with those fiery eyes and red hair of yours, who wouldn’t?”

she was gone before natasha could catch her next breath, handcuffing the black widow to the pipe next to her. she had come so close. natasha knew the black cat was at her wit’s end as well; there was only so far she could run from the avengers.

–

however, one thing the woman had failed to consider, was how suspicious you found the entire operation being. rarely had natasha refused to tell you about the missions she was going on, and rarely did fury put so much emphasis in hiding it from you either.

you weren’t in favour of stalking them, per se, but what were you supposed to do? the hospital wing was boring, and you were (almost) ready to go back to full, operational missions. the broken rib was only hurting a little bit, by that point.

you watched maria through the tracker in her suit, flipping through yet another string of messages natasha had left unanswered. she never failed to reply to you, at least not beyond a day or two.

sighing, you put your mask back on, and dived down the building to begin your chase. the team wasn’t far away.

–

“we got her. hill should be able to lure her into the construction site.” clint’s comms crackled in natasha’s ear, and she set herself into position. finally, one of the traps maria had set worked. minimal casualties, a faraway location. the team should be able to interrogate her there.

natasha finally caught up. the black cat, panting and looking slightly less composed, had nowhere to run. she knew clint was on the roof, and maria was nearby. there was only the waters behind her to escape to.

she aimed her gun, then, “let’s make this a lot easier for all of us. you hand us the necklace, you’re looking at a shorter jail term. months, maybe.”

the black cat only returned with another smart retort, before trying to take aim at maria above. she cursed and flinched when the agent successfully dodged. natasha, i am letting the arrow fly if she tries to get any closer to you, clint declared in her comms. natasha agreed.

the woman took one step closer, natasha clicked her gun.

“you have to let me go,” she explained, “they want me as bad as you do.”

“you’d rather come with us, or die with them?”

black cat sighed irritatedly. she darted her eyes once more, and the moment she spotted something in the sky, the ground beneath natasha suddenly shook.

she could only see clint’s arrow fly at the corner of her vision; maria ducking down after something hit her, and then, her own gun flying out of her hands. natasha hit the ground right after, rolling away consciously to avoid whatever had caused the interruption.

the second she gathered her bearings, however, it felt like time had stopped. her heart began beating rapidly, and she knew she should have just bypassed fury’s advice right away then. if she had, she wouldn’t be dealing with this right now.

for if she had, natasha wouldn’t be staring down at you, standing in front of the black cat protectively, glaring at the three of them, and their weapons confiscated and broken into pieces right at your feet.

–

you had never looked more angry. in fact, natasha had never even seen you this angry before. fists clenched, your stance was protective, the eye lenses narrowed and squinting down at her in rage. she had never been subject to even an ounce of irritation from you before. natasha was almost afraid of what would happen.

thankfully, clint and maria had come down from where they were, clint with considerably more caution in his step than he had been much earlier.

he called your name, and, “i need you to calm down. we–”

“–i don’t need to hear an explanation.” you cut him off. behind you, the black cat grinned, and came a little closer. you seemed to pay her no mind.

“we couldn’t tell you,” maria tried helping him, but the glare you shot at her wasn’t much better.

“you absolutely could,” then, your eyes met natasha’s, and she wanted to crumble under your gaze, “you absolutely could.”

clint pointed out it wasn’t fair, that you knew how these things went, and then, in a lower tone, “she doesn’t know. let it go.”

“why were you chasing her?” you only replied, shielding the black cat when maria tried aiming her spare gun as the woman came to your side, “we had a deal.”

“our deal didn’t involve her stealing a necklace that could wreck cities. you’ve already seen the bombings down in harlem and hell’s kitchen, do you still want to protect her for this one?”

your facade cracked in the slightest bit. only natasha noticed, but your eyes had gone slightly wider, a questioning look sent to the woman behind you. with your stance a little more tense, you were about to lower the hand protecting her, when natasha quickly realised that your confrontation had bought her just enough time.

the black cat slung her arms around your torso, and pressed a kiss to your cheek before whispering, “my hero, my spider. always coming to save me.”

all natasha saw was blind rage before the tear gas that black cat had thrown shrouded everything else in pain and smoke. she could hear clint screaming in frustration of just what it meant.

by the time the team had torn through the gas, you and her were gone.

–

clint had exactly three seconds to register the mad woman storming towards him, before he was slammed against the wall with natasha’s face up in his. he breathed heavily, the air still thick from the gas, but natasha’s fists were enough to ground him back to reality.

“alright, enough games. i was kind then, i’m not feeling so kind now. who. exactly. is. this. black. cat?” she gritted her teeth saying the last few words, the searing memory of seeing another press her lips against you still fresh in her mind.

if he wasn’t so afraid for his life, clint would almost have found the jealousy and possessiveness natasha claimed she never had over you quite funny.

but her hands were almost choking him by then, the anger coursing through her veins and the hurt of you keeping such a huge secret from her fuelling only her rage.

had she been a fool for trusting that you would stay loyal in your pure, unbridled love for her all this while? perhaps not. perhaps you, like everyone else, got tired of waiting for her to be ready, too. perhaps you weren’t what she thought you were after all.

when it was clear the archer couldn’t find the words to tell her, maria answered for him. she pulled natasha away, and forced her to think clearly again.

finally, when she was calm enough to hear the both of them out, maria announced that the black cat, felicia hardy, had been your ex-girlfriend.

–

while felicia was more than happy to be swinging through the city in your arms again, you were getting more and more anxious; what clint had said still ringing in your ears. surely, felicia wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t risk her life, and so many others’, like that. surely, she wasn’t so stupid.

you landed abruptly through her apartment window, shattering the glass to her kitchen and throwing the both of you on the ground. felicia groaned at the rough landing, and you had half a mind to apologise for getting distracted and missing the window, but you remembered that you should be even angrier at her.

“what the hell were you doing?” you interrogated, and when it appeared that felicia was keen on escaping, your webs were binding her to the dining room chair. “stealing a necklace, i don’t care. but stealing manfredi’s wife’s necklace!”

“aw, so you do still care about me, spider,” felicia cooed as you took off your mask and sat across from her. you had wanted to shake her in frustration, to give you answers instead of flirting with you once again.

you held your hands out in front of her, and she continued, “bringing me home, swinging through the city, just like we used to. bailing me out from your stupid friends, trying to save the world. you’ve always been a romantic.”

“they’re my colleagues. and my family now too. you…felicia…why?” you still couldn’t wrap your head around why she had decided to steal that necklace, of all things. it was not like she needed the cash, and if she had wanted to find a way to fuck around and feed her kleptomania, there were so many other necklaces that were beautiful, worthy of stealing. surely not manfredi’s.

she shot you a dopey smile, and you sighed in frustration. there was always back and forth with felicia. “spider, spider…”

you stood to clear your head before you would resort to punching her, time being of the essence with so many parts of new york being bombed and her being her usual self around you. heading to her sink, you let the water run; you couldn’t hurt felicia even if you tried. damn yourself for never being able to do so.

but then, her voice was softer, kinder. “...you never considered if what your friends are saying is the truth?”

head hung low, you gazed up to her. the webs were gone, and she was standing over you, though keeping a safe distance. she knew you were still fuming, and confused, and feeling so many things at once. she continued, “you never considered the fact that maybe, just maybe, i didn’t steal the necklace? you blindly trust your friends, just like that?”

your spider senses weren’t tingling. she was being honest. switching off the tap, you turned to face her, and she took off her own goggles, letting her hair down. this was her best attempt at being vulnerable. but you weren’t so quick to fall for it; she had gotten past your defences before. “they’re better at being honest than you are.”

you missed the hurt look that flashed on her face momentarily. then, you stood straighter, a hand gripping the counter as you steadied yourself and what you were about to say.

shaking your head, you faced felicia with, “this, this, is why we broke up. because you can’t stop lying, and you can’t keep the life of crime behind you. even when i told you i can’t stay with you because of it, even when i told you that…if you gave it all up, i would have done anything, anything, to provide for the both of us. i would’ve even left SHIELD, the avengers, everything, for you.”

felicia bit her lip then, crossing over the threshold between the living room and kitchen, standing before you. you weren’t on your guard anymore. she put up a hand to your cheek, the sharp claws slowly running through soft skin. she could have scratched a permanent scar there and you would have let her.

she could have let her emotions run, but felicia was always better than you were at keeping matters close to her heart guarded. instead, she scoffed, and said, “the red one. out of your friends earlier. i’ve never seen her before.”

“she’s…newer.”

“she’s pretty. smart, capable, quick on her feet.” felicia pointed out. you nodded your head, the thought of natasha being mad, and confused, suddenly sending a wave of guilt through your heart. you shouldn’t have gotten so angry with her. she didn’t know.

“she was also green with jealousy when i kissed you on the cheek,” felicia giggled, and you looked up sharply. she nodded, and continued, “are you and red together now?”

you blinked, almost letting your guard down, almost telling felicia everything. that you wished you were together with red, that you loved red more than you loved anything else, that red was all that you ever wanted. and that red, mostly, was not ready for it all, but you would gladly wait for red until she was. that you would do anything for red. that–

“don’t touch her.” you warned, voice suddenly serious. the hand on your face was removed, a death grip with your own. felicia smiled.

“so protective, spider. i miss when you were that protective over me.”

she removed her hand from your own, and walked to her bathroom, before bringing out her first-aid kit. clint had shot an arrow that managed to slice past her thigh. you watched as she nursed herself back to health, not flinching even as she invited you to come over to help.

felicia could tell you had a lot on your mind. bringing up natasha was probably not a good choice. but felicia still cared for you, at the very least, and helped put you out of your misery by saying, later on, “i didn’t steal the necklace, you know. i’m telling the truth.”

your eyes were still fixed on her from where you were in the kitchen. she sighed. “the avengers, and practically everybody else, think it’s me. and of course, i fit the description, i fit the motive, everything. it was so easy to pin it on me and let everyone chase after me. but i didn’t steal the fucking necklace. i found out about it being gone and me being a thief the same time you all did.”

“...then why did you run?”

she scoffed, as if you had just said the stupidest thing in the world. “because they were threatening to kill me, spider. i have the whole world against me. and…and i didn’t have you to come rescue me anymore, i thought. i had to run.”

“when you were innocent?”

“better than being killed by fucking gangsters, right?”

“you could’ve called me.”

she looked up at you. you had sat down in front of her, inspecting the bandages she had wrapped around her thigh. when you slowly unwrapped them to help put them on tighter for her, felicia asked, “...would you have come?”

you didn’t make eye contact with her. but the hand on her thigh was enough reassurance. “you know i would’ve.”

sixty seconds was not a long time. but to felicia, sixty seconds of her own contemplation, her going against her own head and morals, of thinking if it was worth what would come after what she was going to do, felt like forever. she was breathing heavily in the cold night air, your eyes were transfixed on the bandages before you, hand not moving an inch, and she didn’t know what else she was supposed to do. what else she could do.

so after those sixty seconds, felicia leaned in and kissed you. again. again and again, just like old times, just like all those heists and burglaries you had rescued her from before. your lips tasted the same, the arms around her felt as safe as ever, and when she pushed you into her bedroom and began undressing the both of you, the look of longing, and betrayed love you gave her was one she knew all too well.

her hips moved against yours that night, hands thrashing and fingers finding their way into each other’s hair, and for a while, felicia knew she was safe again. for a while, the avengers, manfredi and his stupid goons, everyone else, was drowned out by the sound of your moans and cries, and felicia could let go. she finally reunited with her spider, even if just for a night, and what a reunion it fucking was for her.

–

the next morning, however, you were dressed before she could even lift her head off of the pillow, shaking your head and muttering, “i have to go back. i have to go back. they’ll be looking for me.”

she could tell you were surprised by her interruption of, “and what if they do?”

“they’ll think i’m working with you. and i can’t be seen working with you.”

it felt almost cathartic to say, “fuck you.”

you then turned, a sympathetic look on your face and an apology leaving your lips in the next second. “you know what i mean, felicia.”

“you don’t think i’m telling the truth? that i didn’t steal the fucking necklace?”

you were silent for a while. your hand was crushing the shirt you were holding, deep in thought. if it weren’t for your spider senses, you would have almost missed catching the pillow felicia had thrown at you.

putting the pillow down, you then turned to her again, and said, “i’m giving you the opportunity to prove you’re telling the truth. come back to the avengers tower and work with us on finding the real thief.”

–

natasha couldn’t believe that you thought bringing felicia back was a good idea. that you thought any part of your plan was a good idea at all.

it was one of the rare few times that she had voiced out what she thought was a stupid plan; tapping into the black cat’s skills and intel, and trusting her with information, to draw out the real thief of the necklace. it was one of the rare few times she was arguing with you.

there had been more you’re putting all of us at risk and i don’t see a better solution exchanges between the both of you, each one escalating in intensity. the rest of the team were equally on natasha’s side, with the exception of fury, who had been brought in to weigh in on the situation. you had spent another hour convincing him earlier not to turn felicia in himself.

in the end, he stepped in, and natasha was bound to follow his directions. that didn’t stop her from sporting the most irritated, annoyed look on her face, however, as she brusquely brushed past you and felicia, who looked more than smug that she was temporarily welcomed back to the team. you were about to give chase, when fury instructed you not to. it was best to let natasha calm down first.

“pissed off red to bring me in,” felicia caressed your face then, causing you to bite your lip in annoyance as well, “i’m honoured, spider.”

–

she could feel herself sinking in jealousy; watching the way you and felicia interacted.

you helping felicia to put on the comms in her ear and the bulletproof linings in her suit; you used to help natasha with that. even when she had gotten more accustomed to the avengers, even when she could put it on herself by then.

you letting felicia take the seat beside yours in the quinjet. it clearly was natasha’s, it even had her fucking initials carved into the armrest on it, when she was bored on a flight once. truth be damned that fury had requested you to keep felicia on a tight leash, but the seat beside yours? really? it hurt more than it should have, as natasha forced herself to avoid eye contact with you right as she stormed past you. you only realised your mistake a second or two later, seeing her angry charge to the very back of the jet, and you were just about to ask felicia to move the seat in front of yours when natasha had told you to save whatever you wanted to say to her.

felicia could almost laugh at how nervous, and guilty, you looked all throughout the flight. if she wasn’t so on edge from the mission requirements and having to work in a team herself, she could almost feel a tinge of jealousy that you were treating your new girl better than you had ever treated her, even. red must have been special, she thought, as you finally unbuckled your seatbelt and made the journey to the back when the flight stabilised.

“nat,” you called her uncertainly, fingers digging into your palms as you waited patiently for her to finish chewing out a younger agent to look at you. then, she made eye contact with you, standing by her seat and eyes insecure, and she hated herself for not being able to stay mad at you for long.

still, she had a facade to keep. “what?”

you let out a smile when she came back to your side, gratefully taking the seat beside hers. “i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“i don’t know,” you had an inkling that you knew what, but you continued, “you’re mad at me. and i’m sorry for the disagreement earlier. i just…i have a plan, alright? and i’m sure it’s going to work, so…i wanted to defend myself. i’m sorry if it made you upset.”

she huffed, rolling her eyes. out of the corner of her eye, however, she could spot you looking even more guilty, and she relented. “you did make me mad.”

“i really am–”

“–but work is work, i know. and i trust your capabilities. you better bring the thief back with a plan, because it’s going to be a lot of paperwork and answering to board members if this doesn’t work out. and i’m not staying up late for all the nights you’re going to do that with you.”

she thought it was stupid how her heart managed to beat impossibly faster as your smile grew, nodding gratefully. “thank you for trusting me.”

then, the both of you spotted felicia unbuckling her seatbelt too, and approaching maria upfront. you made the decision to let the agent handle her for a while, returning your gaze to natasha.

somehow, the both of you managed to blurt out felicia’s name at the same time, both raising the other’s eyebrows.

“you go first,” natasha declared. you nodded.

“are you okay with her? i know…that you’re not so comfortable working with the enemy. i’ll keep her by my side for the whole mission, and we’ll stay away, so you don’t get bothered so much.”

natasha thought it was amazing how oblivious you were; that the problem was you being too close to felicia, and not close enough to her. that she didn’t want you sticking by felicia’s side, because she was scared she was going to lose you to her instead.

“i…” before she could finish her sentence, however, maria was screaming for you, for felicia had finally annoyed her enough to warrant a restrain back to her seat. that, coupled with the fact that she had stolen maria’s watch without her looking even back at the construction site, and she had finally noticed.

i wish i didn’t have to share you with her, was what natasha wanted to say, as felicia giggled at your rough handling of her back to her seat, attempting to squirm out of your grasp.

–

the mole had been from SHIELD; as felicia’s expertise let on. she had data from all around new york, obtained less than illegally, and with the technological expertise from maria, the team managed to crack down just who had been plotting for the downfall of manfredi, and collaterally, new york, all along.

the jet made a ninety degree return after wasting time chasing a lead that had previously run dry, and you were at the other end of a phone call receiving fury’s wrath at the discovery of there being a mole from SHIELD. you had wanted to tell him it wasn’t so surprising, with the onslaught of rapid new hires, but decided to hold your tongue.

it was you who finally proved that having felicia onboard was a good idea. coming up with a plan in a span of a few minutes, it was so well thought-out and elaborate, maximising everyone’s skills and covering every single possible outcome for capturing the thief, natasha found herself incredibly endeared with your cleverness; hanging on to your every word as you explained the details to the team gathered around you.

in fact, her dopey look directed at you was what prompted felicia to snicker, and blurt, “so smitten with our spider now are we, red? earlier you looked like you wanted to bite her head off when she was fighting for me.”

to natasha’s surprise, it was you who stepped in first, “enough, felicia. focus.”

it was all the more attractive, and endearing, when she caught you preventing felicia from leaving later, warning her with a “don’t touch her” again, whatever it meant. natasha had wanted to throw her arms around you and kiss you right in that moment.

–

with felicia on her right, and you close behind her, natasha was chasing the thief, almost expertly slipping in and out, zigzagging through the maze of buildings surrounding the area. but you knew that the road would end at an intersection, and natasha and felicia would inevitably have to split to take a chance on where the thief would go.

and while natasha had hoped wholeheartedly that you would take her side, and trust her instincts, her movements faltered when she snuck a look behind to find you gone. in the next second, you were by felicia’s side, helping her whizz through the crowds and getting even closer to the thief as you flew.

heart beating fast in her chest, she hadn’t noticed how much it hurt to even see you choose someone else, even for a brief moment. you had made the decision that would best benefit the team, she knew, but professionalism didn’t count for the ache in her heart then, as she picked up her pace again and unwillingly round the corner in hopes of cutting off the culprit.

–

it was felicia that landed the final blow; catching the thief with a taser sharp enough for you to stop him mid-air, and pinning him to the ground. and after some struggle and maria finally arriving with backup, you were finally relieved of your sudden duties to go on a mission so soon.

catching your breath, you didn’t realise how much your ribs were actually hurting until then. maybe minding your own business the next time wasn’t such a bad idea.

but then, felicia was by your side, providing a shoulder for you to hold on to for support, as you heaved and pressed your arms against your ribs in an effort to stop it from hurting when you breathed too hard. it was one of the few kind things she had done; the least she could do for you after you’ve helped to clear her name, once again.

you leaned into her support, and upon sensing that her job, and temporary alliance with the avengers, was done, she whisked you away briefly to discuss her options before the actual avengers took matters into their own hands.

natasha watched from a distance as you walked away in felicia’s arms; understanding how betrayed you could have felt with the avengers, and how painful it must have been to find a mole in the very organisation you had worked for for so long. what she couldn’t understand was how you could possibly be leaving her, when you would be taking her whole heart with you if you left, as well.

if natasha had more courage, she would have at least tried to stopping you. but she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, ever want to force you to stay. even if it was possibly the last time she was seeing you, even if it meant the possibility of you leaving before she has the chance to tell you she loves you.

her chest was closing in on her, breaths short and restrictive, and natasha knew she had to get away before the world caved in on her.

–

felicia led you into a clearing, and you forced yourself to let go of her to lean against a wall. you could tell she was looking at you with pity, and bit your lip at the foul taste it left in your mouth.

“compromised intelligence, your friends at each others’ throats, your own boss not trusting you enough to see me again,” she pointed out, hiding a teasing smirk, “your future’s looking bright, spider.”

“thanks.”

she watched you slide down the wall, the pain exploding on your side. you hated that she sunk to your level, and reached out for your hand. you didn’t know why you let her. her fingers were cold as she held your own.

“give it up, then. there’s no hope staying now, right?”

you let out a sneer. “then where would i go?”

“with me. come with me. would you be able to do it? give all this up for me now?”

you realised that felicia had suddenly grown more vulnerable; her eyes a little teary and her lip between her teeth. her other hand was helping you hold on to your injury, her touch cold and unsure. a sigh left your lips, knowing her usual teasing glint was gone. this was the felicia you loved most in the past.

but it was not felicia you loved, not anymore. and while you were thankful for the opportunity to love her, and that you didn’t regret what you had with her, you knew your heart was with someone else now. someone who was waiting for you to return home to her, someone who loved you more than you knew of it yourself.

you slowly removed the hand that was holding your injury, smiling at felicia. she knew.

“red?”

“i have red now. and you and i are better off apart, you know this, felicia,” you held her face in your hands then, tone comforting, “you know i care about you, always have, always will. and thank you, for loving me, and helping us for this mission. but i’m not going anywhere without natasha.”

her claws withdrawn, felicia nodded understandingly. you continued, “keep your head low for a while. manfredi will still be looking for you, so will the police. i’ll try to cover up for you as much as i can, but don’t get into too much trouble. there’s only so much i can do.”

she laughed, getting up as she heard the police sirens approaching. she was sure you had picked up on it much earlier.

“red really is special, huh?” you nodded at her question, smiling at the thought of going back to natasha later on.

“bye for now then, spider,” her hair blowing in the wind, felicia almost looked finally at peace.

“take care, felicia.”

you informed the police officers that you saw the black cat disappear from your sight just seconds before you arrived.

–

natasha was lying alone in bed by the time the other avengers returned. having left early, her room was dark and silent; the only sounds of her chest heaving quickly and her cracked sobs filling the air.

there was a knock on the door from maria, calling out for her, but natasha ignored her subsequent knocks after telling her to go away from the first one.

but then an hour later, there were two signature knocks on her door, following by you keying in the passcode to her room that she had only told you, and natasha’s attention was suddenly rapt.

she realised she probably looked a mess, and pathetic, for sobbing her eyes at out at the mere possibility of you leaving. but in her defence, she didn’t know, and you mattered too much to her for her to see you leave right in front of her eyes.

“don’t switch on the light,” she warned, and your hand retracted from the light switch. you were about to ask her why, when she continued, “just…come here. come here and hold me, please.”

you were more than happy to oblige, sliding between the sheets and having your arms find themselves around her shivering body. she naturally leaned back into you, and natasha wondered if your senses were more elevated than she thought they could be, as your hands came up to wipe the tears she didn’t want you to see.

at the comfort of your touch, she could only ask, “...are you leaving me? for…the black cat?”

she could feel you smile behind her, and your head resting at the space between her neck and shoulder. instead of replying, you said, “i actually went out to get you some donuts, and a few movies for us to watch, you know. i finally get to welcome you home, properly.”

natasha feels like her heart is going to burst. you chose her.

“but of course…just being with you is enough. just us, staying like this, is enough.”

natasha finally turned, seeing that you were still injured, but you reassured her by slowly massaging the frown and worry lines off her face.

she pouted. “she’s pretty.”

you brought her to a sitting position, letting her on top as you rubbed your hands over her back. “you’re prettier.”

“has nice blue eyes.”

you kissed her, softly, slowly. “mhmm, i prefer green eyes.”

“i bet you looked good with her.” she could only imagine how powerful the two of you looked; the spider and the black cat swinging through new york city. it was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

you let her see the selection of donuts you had bought; each spelling out a letter in welcome home. “i feel better when i’m with you.”

natasha finally looks back up at you, and she understands. you never had the intention of leaving. you belonged to her, right from the start.

that night, when you had fallen asleep, one arm slung around her protectively, natasha finally has the courage to tell you what she has always felt.

“i love you,” she says, before amassing all her love into the kiss she landed on your lips.

in your slumber, you smiled, and the redness didn’t leave her cheeks, even until the morning.

#natasha romanoff x reader #felicia hardy x reader #black widow x reader #black cat x reader #natasha romanoff #felicia hardy #black cat #black widow #marvel cinematic universe #natasha romanoff x spidey!reader

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holylulusworld · 19 days

Text

Indecent Proposal (16)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Jake Jensen

Warnings: fluff, established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, mentions of drugs/being a junkie (a side-char)

Indecent Proposal (15.2)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“We gave you the chance to handle this,” Steve angrily glares at Natasha. “For years we protected you and paid you well. All we asked for was for you to put your dog on a leash.”

“Steve, I told him to stay away from you, and the girl,” Natasha nervously rubs her tired eyes. For half of the night, she tried to convince Steve and Bucky that the nurse at your doctor’s practice has nothing to do with an investigation. “I swear, he’s out of town. Whoever that woman is, she’s not one of us.”

“Oh, we know that she’s not one of us,” Bucky huffs. “She’s a civilian he hired to spy on Y/N and us.” He grits his teeth remembering how scared you were the last time Rumlow stood in front of you. “Five hundred bucks and she was willing to tell him everything he wanted to know.”

“That’s…illegal,” Natasha shakes her head. “I told him to stay away from her, and he hires some woman to spy on your girl. Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck!” Steve growls. “She’s a junkie, Natasha!” He blonde wildly gestures with his hands. “Imagine, she had drugs with her! According to that woman, Rumlow told her to get information out of Y/N. He instructed he to use the drugs she shoots into her veins to loosen Y/N’s tongue!”

“No,” Natasha sits down to cradle her head in her hands. “How could he do this? I believed he was a good cop. You know, not someone like me who forgot about their dignity and honor a long time ago. All the things I did for money.”

“You’ve got a good life thanks to us,” Bucky huffs. “Don’t act as if we are the big bad guys in this game. Our business is not legal, but without us, chaos would consume Brooklyn, maybe even the whole of New York. We keep the normal people safe.”

“Yeah. The heroes in shiny armor and shit,” Natasha sarcastically says. “It’s just.” She sighs deeply. “If you are a dirty cop, you feel bad sometimes. Especially when you work with someone like Rumlow. And now, I find out he’s even worse than me. I’d never hurt a woman, or an unborn child to get information.”

“You know that we would never do such a thing either,” Steve snaps at Natasha. “We never asked you to hurt people, Natasha. All we asked for was to look the other way or manipulate evidence.”

“What will you do now?” She lifts her head to look at Bucky. “Am I expendable now?” Natasha quirks a brow. She made peace with the fact that she would end up dead in a dirty alley sooner than later.

“You’re not expendable, no one is,” Bucky’s features soften for a split-second. “We know that none of this is your fault, Nat. We only ask you for permission to go after Rumlow. We owe you that much.”

Steve huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. He didn’t agree with Bucky but promised to let him take the lead. Natasha and his husband have a past, and he trusts Bucky’s instinct when it comes to the redhead.

“He dug his own grave, didn’t he?” She replies. “I tried to stop him from messing with you two. He didn’t listen to me, or anyone else. If he only did his job, I’d ask you to leave him alone. But Rumlow crossed one too many times to go after you.”

“Good,” Steve simply says. “We will make it look like an accident.”

She nods before looking at Bucky again. “He’s a man possessed, and I don’t know why. I tried to dig a little deeper but found nothing. Maybe you got more luck.”

“I don’t give a shit about his reasons,” Steve spats. “He tried to get close to our pregnant fiancé more than once. This time, he paid a junkie to hurt our girl to get information. This has nothing to do with an investigation.”

“I know,” she snaps back. “I just didn’t want him to end up dead. Okay! I worked with Rumlow for over five years. He trusted me with his life, and that I’ll have his back. It’s not easy for me to let him down!”

“Enough you two,” Bucky yells. “This is about Y/N and our unborn child.” He spits while talking. “This isn’t about revenge or shit. We need to protect her. Let’s find out why he’s after us in the first place.”

“Anything yet, Jensen?” Steve impatiently paces behind the tech expert's back. “We don’t have all day. I need answers.”

“We need answers,” Bucky sighs. “Jake, anything you can give us to calm my husband down?”

“Hmmm…” Jake adjusts his glasses while staring at the monitor. “Nothing on that nurse, slash, junkie. She got arrested a few times.”

“Let me guess,” Steve sneers. “Rumlow arrested her the last time.”

Jake shrugs. “Yup.”

“What about Rumlow and his past? Why is he so obsessed with us? I get that he wants to solve a famous case, but he’s chasing our girl around town.”

“There’s not much to find out about him,” Jake grumbles. “Nothing exciting.”

“No dirt?” Bucky presses on.

“No debts. No fishy transactions,” the tech expert shrugs. “He has a clean slate, guys. Whatever he’s hiding, Rumlow does it very well.”

“Jensen, dig deeper. Find something. Anything,” Steve says. “We need more information to bring him down. Because my beloved husband told our insider that we won’t kill him.”

“Yet,” Bucky corrects. “I promised to not kill him yet. If we can bring him down without killing him, fine by me. If not…he’s dog food.”

“Bucky, the voice of reason,” Steve laughs. “That’s a new one…”

“Where have you been all day?” You yawn. “I’ve missed you. It was so boring without you around. So…what did you do?”

“Nothing important,” Steve watches you press your back against Bucky’s chest. He smiles when Bucky kisses the crown of your hair. “Stevie and I had a few things to discuss with a business associate.”

“Okay,” you smile at Steve. “Now that you are here, can we have a movie night? What do you want to watch? Or do you prefer sports?”

“We can watch whatever you want, doll?” Bucky kisses your hair again. He moves his hand to your still flat belly, imagining you all swollen with their child. “Right, Steve?”

“Of course,” Steve joins you on the bed. He’s still pumped up, and angry but he’ll try to tame his anger for you and Bucky. Tonight, he’ll let Rumlow live.

Tomorrow is another day…

Part 17

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky x reader #stucky x female reader #stucky #stucky x you #pregnant reader #mafia au #Indecent Proposal (16)

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upon-a-starry-night · 13 days

Text

Love Favors The Misfortunate

Natasha Romanoff x Gender-Neutral Reader

Natasha Masterlist Main Masterlist

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Minor Violence

Summary: Misfortune always seems to follow you no matter what you do. But where there’s trouble, Nat often follows, maybe love was on your side after all?

Disclaimer: This was part of a writing exercise I did so it’s kind of silly and unedited but enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Somehow you always managed to wind up in the worst situations that Earth could possibly experience. You wondered if you were just cursed or something considering last week you were present for not one but two bank robberies.

Maybe that was just the life of a delivery driver?

You hoped the lady behind the bank counters Caesar salad tasted better after death threats and salty tears of desperation.

This time, however, in the middle of checking the GPS during a stoplight, the sound of screams alerts you to the number of people ditching their cars and running past your motorcycle in fear.

Looking up you see the giant rip in Earth's atmosphere, monster-looking creatures spilling out of the hole.

Oh, Good.

You immediately kick your motorcycle into gear, walking the bike through the crowds of people until you can manage to make a U-turn and speed off, weaving your way through the panic.

You spare a few glances into your mirrors as more flying monsters spill out of the sky and it's during one of these glances that you fail to notice the giant alien who has just landed in the street a few feet ahead of you. By the time you notice him you only have enough time to attempt a full stop which results in your bike sliding from under you and skidding across the pavement. Ouch.

Much to your luck, however, the bike collides directly with the monster and sends it straight into its own spear. A weird purple liquid oozing slowly from underneath the unconscious body.

You frown, it was going to cost a pretty penny to get your bike fixed if it was even salvageable and now you definitely weren’t getting paid for the hamburger and fries that were probably still warm in your delivery bag.

Maybe you could see if french fries taste better after near-death and motorcycle debt.

Wincing, you feel your arms already bruising and your jeans have ripped through to your thigh, you're not bleeding as much as you probably should be from that slide but it still hurts like hell. Thank god you were wearing all your safety equipment.

A hand is extended out to you and you graciously take it, looking up to meet eyes with the prettiest redhead you’ve ever seen. She’s giving you an impressed smile and you feel like you could melt right then and there. Although that might also be from the burning pain in your leg.

You probably need to find a hospital. Or maybe you were dead and this was an angel.

You always figured they’d look like the horrendous abomination of eyes and wings that they were described as, not as pretty redheads with striking green eyes but you weren’t complaining.

“That was a good move” There are still people running past you screaming but it feels like time stops when she speaks to you.

“Yep. that was definitely something I did on purpose” Drumming your fingers on your thighs you watch her chuckle and give you a look that tells you she knows you did not, in fact, do that on purpose.

You glance between your bike and the woman in front of you, screaming civilians making the moment almost comical. You felt like you were in some kind of rom-com apocalypse.

Despite it being the last thing you should probably do, you extend your hand out to her and tell her your name. She gives you a very amused look and you shrug your shoulders as if to say ‘Why not? We’re here aren’t we?’

She chuckles again as she takes your hand, introducing herself.

Natasha. Derived from the Russian name Anastasia, which means resurrection. Maybe she was an angel. Damn.

Natasha nods her head in the direction of the crowd and smirks “Shouldn’t you be joining them?” You shrug. “Unless you know more moves like that?” She gestures toward your beat-up bike and you shake your head

“No. Unfortunately, I haven't mastered the art of more than one motorcycle trick yet” Not that you could get that thing to start back up again after that anyway.

She shakes her head with a laugh, glancing over her shoulder at the mess the city is becoming before turning back to you. “ Well I guess until you learn you should probably get running”

You nod, a little dejected, your calmness in relativity to the situation was likely the result of a concussion but you weren’t worried. Unless Nat was not real, in that case, you should be worried. Very Worried.

“Will we meet again?” it’s cliche and you immediately feel like a protagonist in a Disney movie but it’s a genuine question.

She smirks and looks around at the city again, gesturing to the absolute clusterfuck that New York had become “For your sake, I hope we don't”

You know she doesn’t mean anything bad by it and it’s your turn to smirk when you say “Knowing my luck, we will” You hope she finds herself near a few banks in the upcoming months…

She smiles at you and nods her head in the direction of the crowd and you understand what she’s trying to tell you. With one final wave and a small “good luck” you run in the direction of your fellow New Yorkers, occasionally glancing back to see her running in the direction of the main battle.

You didn't know who she was but Damn did you want to.

~~~

The next time you find yourself in a particularly unfavorable situation is not for months later. Minus that one time you witnessed two old ladies get mugged and that time you almost got hit by an ice-cream truck. But you got free ice cream from the second one so you weren't counting it.

You’d taken up a job in a small pizza place to pay for your bike repairs. It didn’t pay much but you didn’t have that many options after New York got attacked by aliens and half the businesses were destroyed or temporarily shut down. This is one of the few places still open which means on Friday nights you were busy as hell.

It was not a Friday night. It was a Tuesday afternoon and your coworker who was supposed to be on shift with you called out sick which meant you were manning the shop by yourself. Your stupid coworker was probably just off cheating on his girlfriend again but you didn’t care because the shop was empty which meant you could play games on your phone without his judgmental stare.

You’re struggling through level 5 of Candy Crush when the sound of breaking glass comes from the front of the shop and you sigh. You would be surprised but it was New York, more specifically it was your life in New York.

What you are surprised by, however, is the sight of familiar red hair covered in glass in the entryway, and you really want to rub your eyes with the squeaking sound effect like in the cartoons but the amount of microfibers that just got released into the air would suggest not doing that.

“Well well well” You realize you sound more like a supervillain than you intended and you freeze when she stands and sharply turns in your direction, gun pointed directly at you. You throw your hands up in surrender immediately. Goddamn supervillain catchphrases always making pretty girls turn their guns on you.

When she seems to recognize you she relaxes only for a man to jump through the already broken glass window and tackle her to the ground again. You want to help but considering you still haven't learned any more motorcycle tricks(or any tricks in general) you figure you would probably be useless.

You watch helplessly as she disarms and renders the guy unconscious in a matter of seconds and then stands and dusts herself off. The guy on the ground looks like some old-timey variation of Hitler and you're pretty glad she knocked him unconscious before he could even notice you.

You focus back on Nat who's looking at you like a wounded animal that could run away at any moment and It’s then that you realize that most people are not quite used to these kinds of situations. Clearly, you weren’t like most people. You point to the body in a trenchcoat on the ground as you crinkle your nose

“Are you taking that guy with you when you leave?” She huffs out a laugh and you feel yourself smile at successfully getting her to laugh again.

You, one.

Hitlerman, zero.

At least you were winning one game. Stupid Candy Crush.

She looks around the shabby pizza place and then zones in on your nametag, only them seeming to realize you worked there. She tilts her head, nodding to your flimsy little name pinned to your T-shirt.

“Why are you working here? Where’s the bike?” You sigh, you knew the question was coming but it’s still a sore subject for you. You internally punch a wall but on the outside, you frown just a little. It’s the saddest expression Nat’s seen on your face so far.

“She’s in the shop. Repairs are taking longer than I thought and now I’m forced to conform to my least favorite type of work just to get her back” Nat gives an understanding nod and then cringes a little, walking towards you until she’s right in front of you. She places a hand on your head and you inhale sharply.

A small frown forms on Nat’s face “You’re bleeding”

The feeling of her hand on your face confirms that she’s not an angel or a figment of your imagination and you don’t realize you’ve voiced that thought out loud until you hear Nat barking out a laugh.

“I’m flattered but, well-” She glances up, then behind her, then back towards you “I wouldn’t be so sure just yet” She smirks and removes her hand just as a ceiling panel falls from the roof. Dust flies into the air and you cover your face to avoid getting more shit in your eyes.

When the room finally settles Natasha is nowhere in sight but there’s a Captain America band-aid on the serving counter and you feel a small smile across your face. What a dramatic exit. Now who was the supervillain?

You take great notice of the fact that Hitlerman is also gone and you wonder how the fuck she managed to do that. But more importantly, you hoped this wasn’t coming out of your paycheck.

~~~

You can’t emphasize enough to most people how much you’re not even trying to be in the situations you get caught in. In fact, the one time you stayed home for a week you ended up catching the Flu. How the hell do you catch the flu from staying home? After that, you just accepted that you were a magnet for misfortune and there was nothing you could do about it.

Although, after meeting Nat you found yourself a little excited anytime something misfortunate happened and that was probably psychotic and you should definitely check yourself into a psych ward but you’d probably end up choking on a crayon and getting deemed a risk to those around you so what was the use?

Still, of all the robberies you’d been a witness to you’d never been a part of a hostage situation. Until now. Stupid Banks!

Usually, you’d assume that the police would handle a situation like this and you’d be stuck in this bank for hours until someone grew a dick and negotiated something but this time circumstances were a little different. To start, the guy who was currently robbing the bank was holding some type of gun that was the equivalent of real-life freeze tag.

Anyone who got zapped by the oddly blue glowing gun was frozen in place, which led you to problem number two.

The police had shown up nearly half an hour ago and someone must not have briefed them on this wacko holding you hostage because the second one of them snuck in the back door with a gun he was frozen in place looking like the idiot that he probably was.

You would attempt to grab his gun but you didn’t feel like doing that shit. Who were you to risk your life and try to be a hero for some money that this poor fellow probably needed considering New York's rent cost.

Maybe if the stupid fucker hadn’t frozen the one lady who knew the code to the very comically large bank safe he wouldn’t be stuck making stupid negotiations and holding people hostage.

Instead, you settled against a wall near a bunch of crying civilians and attempted once again to beat level 10 of Candy Crush. You give up after ten minutes and delete the app. Really you were just trying to kill the time until you-know-who showed up.

She and her band of merry men had grown a reputation for taking care of situations that the regular authorities couldn’t and that’s why you weren’t the least bit surprised when the room began to fill with a cloudy white smoke.

Others began panicking, fearing that it was some sort of poisonous gas and you rolled your eyes. This was not poisonous gas, you’d seen poisonous gas and this was not it.

This was a very dramatic entrance formulated by your absolute favorite redhead. God, you felt like you were in a spy movie. Any second now you’d see a faint figure slowly descending from the ceiling in all black with a gas mask on and spy music would start playing.

Any second now.

Aaaaaany second now-

A scream from beside you makes you jolt and you find the sobbing woman next to you with a hand over her mouth. A gruff-looking man is telling her to keep quiet and your eyes widen for a second as you think ‘Oh shit. Double robbery.’ But from behind the gruff-looking man walks a familiar figure and she pats him on the shoulder as she passes him.

You squint your eyes, what an oddly metal-looking shoulder. Perhaps you were hallucinating. Stress and all that.

By this point, enough white smoke has filled the room that the bank robber is wildly swinging around in fear as he squints to see. He’s probably more on edge after that woman's scream as well. Yeeeeah more of a horror movie than a spy movie now.

The reason you can see everyone so well is due to your superior eyesight and definitely not the science lab goggles that you had in your bag for no suspicious reasons. Hey, you had to be prepared for literally anything considering your luck.

Nat’s wearing some kind of night vision-looking goggles and a mask and when she passes you you poke her leg. She jumps a little, glaring at you until she seems to recognize you despite your flawless Lab Scientist disguise and her eyes widen. Her eyes seem to scream ‘What are you doing here’ but you feel it’s too obvious of a question to bother answering.

Instead, you give her the biggest smile you can muster and a friendly wave, mouthing “Hiiii Nat!”

She rolls her eyes but you can see the smile she’s hiding under her mask and you mentally fist pump. Three for three.

You point to the man wielding the gun and mouth to her “Go! Team go!”

She shakes her head, exasperated by your lack of fear and self-preservation but holds her finger up to her mouth telling you to be silent as she turns to sneak up on the man.

Your body does so love disobeying orders though, so it chooses that moment to sneeze, which has the man pointing the gun in your direction (not that he can see as his eyes are practically watering now) and Nat turns to you with a glare.

You raise your hands up in surrender and in an attempt to help, you throw the nearest object on the floor across the room. Oh, that was your phone- well, okay. Either way, it helps, the man swings back in that direction, blasting his gun in the air and Nat takes the moment to attack him from behind.

She disarms him easily, taking him to the ground and placing him in handcuffs. She inspects the device carefully, flipping a switch and aiming it at the closest frozen person. With a bolt of light, they unfreeze and gasp for breath. Good, at least the idiot had created some sort of Ctrl-Shift Undo button.

You're part of the first few escorted out of the building considering you weren’t frozen or in hysterics and the paramedics look at you a little funny but wrap a shock blanket around your shoulders.

Yes, shock. That's what you were experiencing. Normal people things. You twist back and forth and watch the shock blanket sway as you wait for Nat to be done with her serious business. God, serious business was boring and took forever.

When she finally emerges from the building she ignores the press and police that come up to talk to her and heads straight for you. Ha! Eat shit losers.

She doesn’t bother with formalities, why would she? It's you. Instead, she hands you a small black box as she takes in the shock blanket you’ve tied around your neck to look like a cape.

“Here’s your phone” You take the object from her hands and inspect it.

Oh wow, No cracks, that's great. Wait- “This is not my phone” You turn it over and inspect the Stark logo on the back of it. Yeeeeah definitely not yours.

“No, it’s not” She doesn't bother lying to you at least, and you hum in acknowledgment. Well, you weren’t one to pass up a free upgrade. You pocket the phone and stick your hands in your front pockets, flashing her a smile

“So… you come around here often?” She rolls her eyes at your stupid attempt at a joke. Or flirting. Either one works.

“How do you keep ending up in these situations?”

It’s your turn to smirk “Maybe it’s just an excuse to see you?”

She gives you a look that says ‘It better not be’ and you just shrug, your shock blanket falling to the ground. Fucker. Making you look uncool. You refuse to bend down and pick it up. Recovery blankets were for losers anyway.

Still, she smiles at you anyway and crosses her arms “I’m beginning to think the only way to keep you safe is to keep you with me”

Your heart leaps but you pretend to be nonchalant. You're only blushing because of shock or whatever. Play it cool “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea” A stupid smile forces its way onto your face despite your best attempts to repress it and Nat laughs at your stubbornness.

“But first I think we’ve got to teach you some self-defense” She nods her head indicating for you to follow her and you both begin walking in step to an unmarked black car.

Kidnapper car.

Cameras are flashing around you and you think about how cool you’ll look with Lab goggles atop your head and white smoke in your hair on the news tomorrow morning. The media was going to love you.

Turning to Nat on your way to the car, you have a question that’s been itching at you that you feel the need to ask

“Do you think your sugar daddy can help me fix my bike?”

She punches you in the arm.

A/n: This was initially a writing exercise to write the silliest short story I could think of, but I thought it was cute so I decided to post it~ Starry

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natsarrownecklacx · 8 months

Text

Cruelty Is An Art Form

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word count- 1,920

Summary- Your the daughter of one of New York’s most known Mob leaders. Unfortunately, you’ve caught the attention of New York’s most feared Mob leader, Natasha Romanoff.

Warnings- Minors this fic isn’t for you, Allusion to murder, Dark Mob Natasha, Thigh riding, marking, allusion to non con.

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

There is no evil known to mankind worse than Natasha Romanoff. Of this, you are almost certain.

Sure there are other terrible things that plague the world like famine, natural disasters and horrific diseases, but the difference between Natasha and all of those things is that, when it comes to how they affect people, it isn’t their fault. All of those things are more or less out of our control, and the way they impact people, out of their control.

Natasha however, is practiced with her cruelty. Each and every ounce of pain and suffering she inflicts is calculated and purposefully. She takes a pride in it that could only be measured to that of a parent towards their child or an artist towards their art.

Usually when a person contains this type of passion for cruelty it would be contained to the unfortunate few people who find themselves in the presence of the evil being who cultivates it. For example serial killers or people with an affinity for torture and their victims.

Sadly this isn’t the case with Natasha Romanoff, who has enough power and influence that her cruelty spans over hundreds if not thousands of people, even if they do not realize it. As the leader of one of the most powerful and dangerous gangs in New York City, Natasha’s control spans just over triple the city's population.

She is known throughout the underworld of gang leaders as the “black widow”, the name being given to her in recognition of the countless bodies she has left up and down the coast of many cities across the globe.

No one would dare mess with her, in any way, unless they had a death wish. Even then, unless that person wanted to die in the most slow and torturous ways even the darkest minds could not conceive, they would stay far, far away from her.

Which is something you’ve, thankfully, managed to do for all twenty years of your life, despite your fathers standing as a rival gang leader in New York. One that, for the past few months, Natasha has been taking territory from.

To Natasha anyone other than herself and the few people of her inner circle are merely ants ready to be squashed under her boot at a moments notice, even purely for her own twisted entertainment. So she did not know, nor did she care, who’s territory she was taking over, nor did she fear any backlash from the unknown ant.

Your father let her behavior slide, for the sake of peace and to avoid the possibility of innocent civilians getting harmed in the crossfire if he were to start a war between his own gang and the widows.

He has warned you to stay far away from her, away from any territory she deemed her own, in fear that she may recognise you and harm you for the sake of sending a message to not only him but the other leaders in the city.

So you did as he asked and stayed away, not wanting to cause any problems for your father or anyone else. But how were you to know that while you were on a night out with your friends that the redhead would choose the exact bar you occupied and claim it as her own, killing the previous owner where he sat in his office before strolling her way up to the bar to order herself a glass of vodka.

Natasha sits at the bar, glass in hand as she lazily surveys the room, looking for someone to sate her need for the night, getting her use out of the unwitting victim before killing them.

As she moves her gaze around the room her eyes land on you, a pretty girl on the dance floor moving her hips along to the music in a way that catches Natasha’s attention and stops her mid way raising her glass to her mouth.

She watches you for a few moments, her darkening eyes drinking in every sway and move of your body as you lose yourself to the music and atmosphere around you, dangerously unaware of the predator approaching.

Natasha is unaware of who you are and in all honesty, she doesn’t care, her plan for you remains the same. Act like the sweet gentle woman she never will be, convince you to accompany her back to her mansion, use you like a toy until the sun comes up and then discard you like the broken used thing you will be once she's finished with you.

Natasha approaches you, reaching a hand out to your waist, moving her body against yours to the beat of the music. She treads lightly, not wanting to scare you off before she can get you at least into her car. The idea of making a public scene tonight just seems like an annoying headache for the redhead.

Feeling a feminine body slid in behind you mould to your own does not bother you, even as her hands slid sensually around your waist, pulling you flush against her. You relish in the attention from the unknown woman.

Natasha drags her lips against the pulse point of your neck causing you to tilt your head back, needing to give her more room. She suctions her lips to your neck, intent on leaving a mark and branding you as hers. Her toy for the night, her slut made to proudly wear her marks.

You can’t help the moan that quietly spills from your lips at the action, leaning your head back against her shoulder and moving your left hand up to grip the hair on the back of her neck, holding her in place while she leaves her marks on your skin.

Natasha slides her arms fully around your waist, tightening her hold on you and locking you in place as she slots her thigh between your legs. Your breath catches in your throat at the action and a whimper follows soon after when the mystery woman whispers “Move your hips, baby” in your ear hotly.

You do as she says, moving your hips slowly up and down her suit clad thigh. Her warm mouth continues its attack on the delicate skin of your neck, nipping and biting every so often to ensure her marks are clear.

The whole interaction makes you want to melt against her, melt into her, succumb to the pleasure the woman is bringing you. That is, until she tenses the muscles in her leg, the hard muscle hitting your clit just right in a way that has you moaning out “fuck” and tightening your hold on the redheads hair to the point that you cause her pain.

Natasha bites down hard on your neck in retaliation, the force of her teeth strong enough to nearly draw blood.

You gasp and quickly jerk your body away from her. Natasha loosens her hold, allowing you to turn and face her but still keeps you in her grasp. You spin around quickly, determined to tell her off for such a violent act.

Your breath is stolen from your lungs the second your eyes land on the woman your father spent countless day’s warning you away from.

Your eyes fill with fear, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the redhead, and you try to take a step back.

Natasha only tightens her grip on your waist, a smirk falling against her lips while confusion flickers behind her eyes. She can see from the look on your face that you know who she is, what she is capable of, yet she doesn’t know how. Word of the infamous black widow isn’t exactly common knowledge with the civilians in the city.

“You know me.” Natasha muses, tilting her head to the side slightly, her eyes lighting up when she feels you try to step away from her again. “And you're afraid.” She says, the smirk on her face nearly doubling in size, as she takes a step toward you.

Your eyes move frantically around the room, desperately looking for the men your father sent with you everywhere. Your body guards, as you call them, or your “protection detail” as they like to call themselves.

Natasha’s hold on your waist tightens again, pulling you flush with her front and ignoring your attempts to squirm away. Your attention turns back to her and you have to gulp down your fear at the sight of the look in her eyes. It truly feels to you as though she is a starved, deranged predator and you are her prey.

Natasha takes a moment to look you over, appraising you, while you squirm under her heavy stare, your eyes move away from her, unable to continue looking at her with the intensity of the moment.

“You're a pretty little thing aren’t you.” Natasha muses, gripping your jaw in her rough, calloused fingers and forcing you to look at her. Using her hold on your face she pulls you closer to her, until you are just a breath away.

Your mind tells you to slap her, to spit in her face, kick her between the legs and run as fast as your feet can carry you. Your survival instincts tell you otherwise, screaming at you that if you want to survive then you have to keep her as calm as possible until your fathers men realize where you are.

So you stand as still as you can, your hands making fists at your sides in an attempt to keep them from shaking. Natasha’s eyes glance down to your clenched fists, a smile sliding its way onto her face before her eyes move back to your face.

She moves her mouth next to your ear, her warm breath hitting your skin while she whispers to you. “Let me tell you a secret little dove.” You feel her lips smile against your skin, trailing a short path up and down the skin of your cheek before she speaks again. “I like it when pretty girls like you are afraid. The look you all get in your eyes when your afraid for your life…”

Natasha moves her hands to rest on the small of your back, moving your body in one swift jerk so that your thigh rests between her legs. She doesn’t waste a second before grinding down on the plush skin of your thigh, a grown falling from her lips at sensation. “... it gets me so, so wet, angel.”

Natasha feels more than hears the gasp that leaves your mouth, feels the air hit her face as she pulls back to look at you again. That annoying smirk is back on her face, her eyes dark with lust and need. You jerk your leg from between hers, narrowing your eyes at the fake pout she wears at the action.

Natasha tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, her eyes never leaving your face as she whistles a tune you’d never heard before. Within the blink of an eye nearly fifty bodies hit the floor, each of them going down silently, without so much as a scream, as though someone had simply powered them off.

You look around in shock and horror, your mind running through how she could have done something like that and if you’d be next.

“Don’t worry, angel.” Natasha coos, her voice a poor imitation of someone attempting to be soothing. “I won’t kill you.” She smiles, bringing her hands up to cup your face.

“You're of no use to me dead.”

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

A/n- Currently obsessed with dark mob boss Nat, let me know what you think so far, part two will be out this day next week

Part Two

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #Dark Natasha Romanoff x Reader #Mob boss Natasha x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff smut

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daddynattt · 9 months

Note

“I’m not cut out for this.”

Nat x Reader

Better off without you

Summary: When you confront Natasha for being distant, she says some things that she can never take back, causing the two of you to go your separate ways.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader / Future Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: angst, Natasha is an ass, hurtful words, insecurities, one brief mention of cheating, fluff with happy ending

Word Count: 1.1k words

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“Nat? Can I talk to you for a second?” you couldn’t hide the nervousness in your tone, your question instantly alerting Natasha. For the past couple of weeks, Natasha has been distant and quiet, and it has gotten to the point where you can’t take it anymore. You’ve asked yourself questions like “Does she not love me anymore?” or “Is there someone else and she’s cheating on me?” These questions have been running through your mind all day every day for the last couple of weeks and it has been driving you up the wall. You don’t believe either of them for a second, but you know it will only get worse if it doesn’t get resolved.

“Of course, is everything okay?” you laughed to yourself, the confusion on her face causing you to shake your head in disbelief. How clueless can she be? “Is everything okay? Is- of course everything is not okay! You have been cold, and distant, and you’re never around anymore! I stay up late every night, alone in our bed, wondering what I am doing wrong or if you don't love me anymore or if you are cheating on me, so no! Everything is not okay!” Natasha frowns as she properly looks at you. You have bags under your eyes, you look slimmer and overall, you just don't look happy or healthy.

“Look Y/n I-” you cut her off, the anger from the last few weeks that’s been bottled up inside you, coming out full force. “No! Do you know how worthless I feel? How many times have I asked myself what I did wrong, or what I am doing wrong? And you just don’t care! You’re never here! You-” “I don’t love you anymore!” your rant is cut short at her outburst, your heart dropping at her words. “W-what?” Natasha sighs, and runs her hands through her hair as she looks at you. “I don’t love you anymore okay? I thought… I thought I could give you what you wanted and what you were asking for but I can’t. I’m not cut out for this” you wish she didn't get the satisfaction of seeing you cry, but you can’t help it and here you are, looking like an idiot, crying in front of the woman you love who you thought loved you back, but turns out it was all a lie.

“You knew all this time that you didn’t love me anymore and you couldn’t say anything? Yet here I am looking like a fucking fool in front of our friends, crying myself to sleep every night wondering what I did wrong, and you couldn’t say anything? You’re such a coward Natasha!” Natasha scoffs, raising her hands in the air as she paces around. “I can’t say anything to you! You’re so sensitive and emotional all the time and I didn’t know how to tell you! I don’t love you anymore because you bring me down! You’re weak and… I am not cut out to be with someone like you” her words cut you deeper than a knife, your heart breaking at the reality of it all. She thinks you’re weak. She thinks you’re just a useless civilian dating an Avenger. All you’ve ever done was be there for her through every battle, you were patient and understanding, showed her the love she deserved, but to her it wasn’t enough.

“Y/n I-” you put your hand up to cut her off, a sad smile on your face as you look at her. “Don’t. It all makes sense now. But you know what Natasha? I am not weak. I am better than you will ever be. You’re an asshole and you will never find someone like me. Don’t ever speak to me again” you grab your keys and make your way out of your shared apartment, getting into your car and driving to the Avengers compound.

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

“She said what? oh I am gonna kill her when I see her!” you grab onto Wanda’s arm to stop her movements, looking up at her with sad eyes. “Don’t Wanda, It’s not worth it. She said exactly how she felt and all I can do is move on” Wanda wraps her arms around you, holding you close to her body as she hugs you and lets you cry into her chest. “Shh it’s okay sweetheart, I won’t let her or anyone hurt you again okay? Let it out I’m right here” You let all your emotions out as you cry into Wanda’s chest, feeling a sense of comfort being in her arms as she says sweet nothings into your ear and runs her hand up and down your back as she slowly calms you down.

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

“Hey! Oh you little shit!” You giggle as you run around the kitchen island, going the opposite direction from her each time she moves, the flour in your hand gone as you threw it onto Wanda as the two of you make cookies together in the compound's kitchen. Months have passed since that day you and Natasha broke up, and you and Wanda have grown closer each and every day since. She helped you move on from Natasha, but now you have a new problem on your hands as you caught feelings for her. You will never tell her though, the words Natasha told you that night lingering in your mind each time you think of Wanda in that way, as you believe that Wanda wouldn’t like a regular civilian like you either. So lost in your head, and oblivious to the grin on Wanda’s face as your thoughts were so loud she couldn’t help but hear them, happy to know you feel the same way and that you are more than just a regular civilian, and she is going to do everything she can to show you how special you are and how you deserve to be treated.

She grabs onto you as she catches you, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you into her, rubbing her flour covered face and hair all over you, laughing as you squeal and try to get away. Her grip on you is strong, and you admit defeat, a light blush on your cheeks at your close proximity, you look up at her and smile, the two of you looking into each other's eyes as you both slowly lean in, her lips meeting yours in a soft kiss.

As you and Wanda share a soft, passionate kiss, you fail to see Natasha walking away as she sees the scene unfold in front of her. She can’t help the tears that fall, realizing that she has truly lost you for good, and she will forever live with the regret of all the things she told you that she didn't mean, and that you will never be hers again. Because at the end of the day you were right, she will never find someone like you again.

#natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff

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dirtyvulture · 11 months

Text

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by anon: Can I please get some soft tummy Nat, no beef, and a civilian reader without beef as well.

AN: No pronouns used.

I can’t remember the last time I got a vegetarian request lol. 😭😂 But I tried my best, anon!

“Wait, don’t change the channel yet,” you whine, not moving from your spot between Natasha’s legs, your cheek resting on her stomach where you’re turned to watch the television.

“It’s just a commercial,” Natasha protests.

“Well, it’s a good commercial!”

“Whatever,” she mutters, dropping the remote back next to her and returning her hand to rest on your head where she’s been stroking your hair. Your arms are wrapped lazily around her waist, and you think she makes the perfect pillow for your head.

After a few serious injuries sustained while on missions, Natasha had to take an extended leave of absence, which also cut into her ability to train. She did not have the same muscle mass as she once had, her belly growing a little plusher over time, something you knew that she was insecure about, but you always assured her that she was still just as beautiful and that you loved her all the same.

The two of you watch as a dog is left behind by his family, tearing up the trash and destroying various pieces of furniture in his frustration. The family returns with a big kennel, opening it to reveal a new friend for the dog.

“See, wasn’t that cute?” you say, as though you haven’t seen this commercial at least 30 times already.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Natasha agrees.

The television show returns, and you two lay there in silence for a few minutes to watch it. Your hand slips under Natasha’s shirt to rub over her bare skin and she shivers at the physical contact.

“You okay?” you stop to ask.

“Uh...yeah,” she responds with some hesitance. You pull out your hand and lift your head to look at her.

“Nat.”

“I’m fine,” she says with more confidence, but you don’t believe her.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Noth...” Natasha starts, but relents. She trusts you more than anyone and she’s been with you long enough to know that you would never judge her for anything. “Well, I mean...you know how I feel about my stomach...”

“You’re beautiful, Nat. Every part of you.” You crawl up to kiss her softly, resting your chest against hers. “You know how much I love you, right?”

“Yes,” Natasha whispers, blushing at your praise.

“Can I show you?”

Natasha nods with her lower lip trapped between her teeth as you slide down her body, pulling down her shorts and panties as you go and she helps kick them off. You settle in between her legs, keeping one of your hands on her stomach protectively as you lower your head to put your mouth to her folds.

Natasha sighs when your tongue makes contact with her center, her hand resting on the top of your head and tightening in your hair as you push your tongue into her, savoring her taste.

You hear Natasha murmuring in Russian as her thighs start to close around your head, holding you close to her, and you take your time to stimulate her with your mouth. You’re careful to avoid her clit at first, waiting until she’s practically gushing with wetness to take it into your mouth and suck on it repeatedly.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Natasha moans, tilting her head back into the couch. The television show is completely forgotten now and you switch your grip to hook your arms under her legs, pulling her into you so your tongue can penetrate her as deeply as possible.

“You taste so good, Nat,” you say, pausing to take a breath before going down on her once more.

The grip in your hair tightens to an almost painful point as Natasha humps frantically into your mouth, her walls squeezing desperately around your tongue in intervals.

“Almost...Almost there, baby,” she gasps, her thighs quivering as she tries not to choke you out with them.

With one final hard suck to her clit, Natasha comes undone in your mouth and you’ve never tasted anything better. As she rides out her high, you don’t stop licking and sucking, until her entire body is trembling and she is whimpering from the overstimulation.

“Can you give me one more?” you ask, your tone innocent compared to what you’re doing to her right now.

Natasha nods, wanting nothing more than to please you, trying to catch her breath as you don’t stop, bringing her to another orgasm almost directly after the first.

“I love you, Nat,” you whisper as you clean her up and kiss her thighs, then her stomach, resting your weight gently on top of her again. Natasha wraps her arms around your back, holding you tightly against her.

She would never doubt you for a second.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader

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natspookie · 9 months

Text

change

civilian! fem reader x iw!natasha romanoff

summary : natasha takes a leap of faith and tries something new, bringing her someone she would never have fathomed having.

natasha always told herself that if she had the capabilities of doing something herself instead of passing the task off to someone, she would.

wanda found natasha starting intently at a box of blonde hair dye, she had dyed her hair a few times in the red room for missions but she hadn’t dyed her hair since. this was one of the choices she could make herself now.

"why don't you just go to the salon nat? i have a friend at the salon a few blocks from here, make a friend or something and get your hair colored” wanda said, not realizing the depth of natasha’s thoughts.

“maybe” natasha nodded, looking up. “that’s great nat! i’ll text you the details” wanda smiled, going back to her routine.

the next day natasha mustered up the courage to walk to the salon. it wasn’t far at all.

the first thing that caught her attention— rather person, was a y/h/c. you were sitting on the bench right outside of the salon, knee bouncing up and down, head low, long hair flowing till your elbow.

it was an instinct for natasha to walk up to you and ask you how you are. “hey, are you alright?” you looked up and suddenly had a loss of words. natasha’s fiery red hear and green orbs were not a sight to be missed.

“i’ll be alright” you smiled “that’s not the same as being alright” natasha raised a brow “i haven’t gotten my hair cut in 4 years, i’m rethinking if i want to do this.” you bounced your leg again.

“you don’t have to do it if you’re uncomfortable” natasha crouched to your level. “no- um- i have to do this. i need to move on… this sounds ridiculous. i’m sorry, it’s just hair” you chuckled, subconsciously fiddling with your hair.

“no, it’s not ridiculous. i’m.. going through a similar situation now, believe it or not. what do you say we both go in there together? i’ll be here for you and vice versa” the feeling you weren’t alone for once in so long felt so… fluttery. “sure” you said quietly, standing up.

you both were seated beside each other since there were only 2 other customers there. they seemed aware that the black widow was beside them, unlike you.

your hair was washed first while natasha was left in the seat since she was getting her hair dyed, not chopped.

she squeezed your hand as you sat back down beside her. you exhaled as the hair dresser snipped the first part of your hair. it fell to the ground and only then did you realize that this was really happening.

natasha seemed to read your thoughts as she reached over and rubbed her thumb over your knuckles as hair color was being spread across her whole head.

the next thing you knew your hair was now 1/3 of how it used to be, being shoulder length now. natasha’s hair color was being left for 30 minutes and your hair was being dried.

you touched your hair for the first time feeling weird, but natasha being there made you feel better. it was odd, you had just met her and you already felt this sense of safety.

you had finished long before natasha but decided to wait for her, asking her to coffee which she happily accepted.

you smiled at the little smiley in both of your coffees. natasha got to know you more and more as you learned parts of her too. it’s been a while when natasha suddenly asked “do you mind if i ask, what’s the significance of your hair to you? if you don’t want to talk about it, i understand. but everyone’s stories is unique and i’d love to hear yours- sorry i’m rambling” natasha laughed, sipping her coffee

“no i don’t mind. um.. my mom was a hairdresser, only person who has ever cut my hair. she died 4 years ago in the battle of new york, y’know those aliens and stuff? yeah.. i couldn’t bring myself to get it cut until today” you sighed looking out the window.

“the battle of new york?” she gulped, guilt swallowing her as a whole. “yeah, she was trying to help some people get out but didn’t make it herself. she always praised those heroes “ you quietly laughed “what do you think of them?” “heroes? they’re needed, sure, but i feel bad for the weight they have on their shoulders.” you shrugged, looking back at natasha

“i never got your name, in the last 3 hours” you laughed “natasha romanoff” you froze, trying to recall that name wher- natasha romanoff. “oh” you quietly said “yeah, oh.” natasha smiled

“i really enjoyed today with you, sorry for ruining this” natasha said “no! it’s not ruined! sorry for being so stupid. i’m y/n y/l/n” you said when natasha’s phone rang “duty calls” natasha mumbles and takes the call, a few nods here and there.

“well y/n y/l/n i have to go. but, would you maybe want to go out.. on an actual date?” natasha fidgeted with the phone in her hand

“i would love to, natasha romanoff”

that was the moment natasha knew, that date would be the date. the one to change her life.

she was thankful wanda gave her that push and tried some change in her life. but the one thing she never wished to change, was the love you both had for each other.

#natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romonova #black widow fic

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gingiesworld · 9 months

Note

Can you do Natasha with Male reader?

Where male reader it's normal agent who love giving natasha lunch just to be good work friend but natasha end up falling for him and she hate that she trusting new people so she try to avoid reader. But it's fail so she start insulting reader in front other agent's and that make reader stop bothering her.

You can choose how this end (sad or happy ending)... Thank you :)

You're Pathetic

Natasha Romanoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Angst. Death.

18+ MINORS DNI

Agent Y/L/N was just an average SHIELD Agent, working as hard as he could to keep the civilians safe from unknown threats. On the off chance he came across on of the higher agents, he made sure that his uniform was ironed and crease free. Always wanting to make a first impression. Even after the missions he had spent with her, he became smitten.

Natasha would never admit it but she was moved by the lunches and the drinks he would bring her. Leaving her office with a have a good day and his charming smile. Although Natasha was wired different, she was trained that love is for children.

"So, who is the guy?" Maria asked as she smirked at the pacing red head before her. Natasha had found refuge in one of her best friend's offices.

"Agent Y/L/N." Natasha sighed as she stopped to face Maria. "Don't look at me like that." She scolded as Maria took a deep breath.

"All I am seeing is Y/L/N getting you lunch and drinks. Making small conversations and asking how you are." Maria summed up as Natasha smirked. "He is being the man every woman has ever dreamed of."

"I know." Nat finally took a seat. "I just hate this feeling."

"You're falling for him." Maria stated as Nat held her face in her hands.

"I have fallen for him." Nat whispered, her eyes glistening. "But what if he wants a family?"

"There's always adoption." Maria stated.

"A biological family?" Natasha corrected as Maria have her a gentle smile.

"If he really cares for you, he wouldn't care about how you have children. He would only care about spending his life with you." She told her honestly. Nat just sighed, knowing she was right. Deciding to head to her own office and taking a seat, only to hear a knock on her door, just like clock work.

"You need your strength Romanoff." He smiled as he place the peanut butter and jelly down with a soda before leaving her be.

He was right, she had her training this afternoon. Teaching the new recruits. Which as she was in the middle of observing the recruits as they trained. Observing their forms during combat and making note as Y/N walked in the door with a smile on his face and a water in his hand.

"This has to stop Y/L/N!" She told him as his smile fell.

"I just wanted to make sure you're hydrated." He told her honestly as he looked at the bottle.

"You are pathetic. A pathetic excuse for an agent." Natasha tried to stop as she watched his eyes go from full of happiness to void of any emotion. "I'm surprised you haven't been killed yet with how pathetic you are."

"Goodbye Romanoff." He spoke emotionless, the other agents watched as he walked out of the training room. Natasha's heart broke as he walked out with slumped shoulders.

For days, her outburst was talk among the agents. A lot of them talking about the pathetic agent. It wasn't until a few weeks later she had noticed is absence. Of course she knew Maria also had a mission but it wasn't until she overheard a conversation among a small group of agents.

"That pathetic agent tried to be a hero." One of them snickered. "He thought by jumping on the grenade he would save everyone. I think everyone would have rather died than be wearing that pathetic loser."

Natasha ran straight for Maria, wanting to know that what she heard isn't true. That was when she walked in on Maria sniffling, looking up as she heard Nat close the door.

"Is Y/N?" Nat tried. She couldn't even bring herself to say it.

"I'm so sorry." Maria whispered as she let her tears fall. "No one knew he was going to do it. I guess he's not so pathetic now is he?" Her words soon laced with venom, cutting Nat off as she tried to speak. "He was far from pathetic Natasha and you know it. You let those recruits hear your harsh words to him when all he wanted was to be there for you. Do you know what his last words were?" Nat just shook her head as she took every word. "He told me, hopefully this mission might just prove his worth." Nat wiped her eyes as Maria berated her. "Truth is, he never needed to prove his worth. We already knew what kind of agent he was. No, we knew what kind of man he was. He was kind, gentle, sweet and caring, but he only had eyes for you. He was in love with you and you ripped his heart out. You set him up for his death because he thought in that moment, sacrificing his life was worth saving other agents who also questioned his worth on the team. Do you know I had to take an hour long shower to wash all of the blood and dust from my body, the blood wasn't even my own. I just washed him away like he was nothing. Just like you did."

"Maria." Nat tried as Maria shook her head.

"Get out." She ordered as she turned back to her report. Writing about the moment Y/N had sacrificed himself. Nat walked through the halls hearing how people still called him pathetic.

"He was a hero. Y/L/N was far from pathetic so I suggest you all shut the fuck up and get back to your designated stations." She yelled before she slammed her office door. Collapsing to the floor as her world imploded. Tears falling from her eyes and she didn't even bother to try and hide them or wipe them away. Wishing she could have done something different. Told him how she really felt and not let her head get in the way. Now she was just too late and she hated herself for what she had done.

#natasha x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff #maria hill imagine #marvel

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the-wize-1 · 10 months

Text

Thawing the Widow: Chapter 2 - Street Life

Chapter Summary: Cat has no idea what to do. She's not that great at planning ahead. She meets an annoying boy and a dog tries to steal her tacos. Not cool. She stumbles upon a hidden door.

Chapter Warnings: Hints of child abuse, homelessness.

Notes: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Natasha will make her appearance very soon! Thank you for your patience. If you’re liking it so far, please heart and reblog this story! Happy reading! Next chapter will be posted tomorrow 5PM PST.

Thawing the Widow Masterlist

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

November - Trevor’s Apartment

Cat was lucky Trevor was a foolish idiot who kept the most of his cash in the drawer beside his bed, or else she would’ve never made the decision to bail.

If there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that she wasn’t stepping foot into a foster home again. The second that social services worker, Kimberly Kingston, had turned to make that phone call, Cat hadn’t given it a moment’s thought before leaping into action.

As quietly as she could, she grabbed her school backpack. Unfortunately, it was pink and covered in sparkles and smiling butterflies, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. It was far from the most dignified way to travel, but the thing was huge and could fit about a million things. The first place she went to was Trevor’s stash.

It was half full, rows of crisp twenties lining the inside. Cat didn’t know how he was able to get so much cash, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She hesitated before reaching in. Her wrist throbbed in memory of the last time Trevor had caught her stealing from his stash. He’d been drunk, of course, and so angry…

Cat pushed the thought away fiercely. A hot, sudden surge of anger rose in her. With a renewed determination, she started stuffing her backpack full of money. She took immense pleasure in swiping every last twenty dollar bill, picturing Trevor’s ugly face when he opened the drawer to get more booze and found a drawer full of nothingness staring back at him.

Working quickly, she grabbed everything she could think of: a few pairs of clothing, toothbrush and toothpaste, along with everything else she owned. Then, she crawled underneath her bed, where she’d stashed Rufus for protection in case Trevor decided to throw him out in a blind drunken rage.

When Cat was six, her parents had given Rufus to her. He’d been a fluffy snow-white stuffed bunny that had been relatively well taken care of. He now sat limp and sad-looking, his fur was more gray than white. It had been a long time since she’d held him in her hands.

For a moment, Cat only stared at the bunny’s glazed eyes, lost in memories. After the death of her family, Cat had done her best to remove any memories of them from her life. But she hadn’t been able to bring herself to throw Rufus away. Suddenly, she felt the familiar sensation of hot tears rising from her throat. She willed them back down. She hadn’t cried since the funeral.

Stop it.

Snapping back into reality, Cat felt a stab of annoyance at herself for losing focus. Why was she even thinking about that? It happened an eternity ago. She could hear noises from the doorway. The social services worker was still on the phone, thank god.

Cat zipped up her backpack. She stood, looking back at the mess of the apartment, taking it all in one last time. She wouldn’t miss it, that was for sure. Trevor’s late poker nights, eating greasy takeout, the entire place smelling like smoke and stale pizza… It was probably the last time she’d ever see it. Her heart soared with glee at this thought.

Cat pushed the window to the fire escape open. Once she had one foot out the window, a thought occurred to her: What if she was threatened by crazy muggers on the street? She’d need a few knives to fend herself off. Without thinking, she rushed back into the kitchen and hastily grabbed two or three sharp ones, stuffing them into her bag.

In an exhilarated daze, Cat took a moment to think about what she was doing.

Was this crazy? Stupid? Impulsive?

All of the above.

Was she going to regret this?

Probably.

Cat scanned the kitchen frantically for anything else she’d need. Surely she was forgetting something. Paper towels? Spoons? Neosporin, for emergencies? God, why were there so many things that people needed?

“Okay, great!” Kingston’s voice echoed from the hallway. “I’ll get back to you on that…”

Panic raced through her. There was no time. Impulsively, she grabbed the box of “Fruity Crisps” and launched herself out the window.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

November - Park

“Why do you have a backpack? There’s no school today.”

“Because,” Cat said, “none of your beeswax.”

“There’s no need to be so rude! My mommy says you should be nice to strangers.”

The first place she’d gone to was the park a good distance away from Trevor’s apartment. At that time of day on a Sunday, it was bustling with children along with their parents playing on the playgrounds. She’d gone straight to the best playground, making a beeline for the swings. It had been fun for the first seven minutes, until the boy came along.

Said boy was currently standing in front of the swings, and had recently started annoying the hell out of her. He was maybe a couple years younger than her. His gelled-back hair, bright polo shirt, and khaki shorts screamed country club brat. He had an unsightly mass of freckles across his face, covering his nose and his cheeks. Cat had taken an automatic disliking of him based on looks alone, but his whiney voice and ugly personality made her hate him more.

“Well, my mommy’s dead, and she didn’t tell me anything about talking to strangers. So I win.”

“Well, mine’s alive, so I win.”

“Whatever.”

The boy sighed. “Will you get off already? It’s my turn now.”

Cat glared at him, gripping the chains of the swing tightly. She kicked her feet in the air for momentum, nearly kicking him in the face. “Actually, since I’m the one on the swing, I’d argue that it’s my turn.”

“No, it isn’t! You’ve been on too long. Get off so I can go.”

Cat kicked up harder, aiming closer to his face this time. “No.”

The boy’s face screwed up in confusion. “Why?”

“Because, no.”

His face was screwing up, mouth twitching. With a prickle of disdain, Cat noticed he was on the verge of tears. “You’re not sharing!”

At his childish rebuke, Cat laughed.

With a determined cry, he charged at her and caught her feet mid-swing. He tugged down, hard. The swing’s chains rocked on the structure. Surprised and caught off guard, Cat lost her grip and nearly tumbled to the ground. She regained her balance, kicking until the boy’s vice like grip came off her foot. Cat was overwhelmed by a wave of anger. Being a brat was one thing, but trying to harm her was another.

He started screaming. “Stop it! Stop it!” The boy burst into angry tears. “MOOOOM!”

A short blond haired woman gossiping with the other moms at the edge of the playground looked up warily. Cat’s internal Karen alarm went wild. What she hated more than spoiled little kids was spoiled little kids with Karen moms.

The woman marched over. “What is it, Tanner?”

Freaking Tanner. Of course his name was Tanner.

“This weird girl won’t get off the swings, even when I asked her nicely! She’s been on forever and won’t share!”

Cat’s eyebrows raised incredulously. At what point did he ask her nicely?

The mom looked at her disapprovingly, and said, in a very condescending tone, “Excuse me, girl, will you get off the swings so my son can swing? This playground is meant for everyone to enjoy.”

The argument had drawn the attention of a couple other moms and a handful of onlookers. Cat’s sneakers skidded on the ground as she slowed to a stop.

“Right now, I’m enjoying it. Your son can enjoy it later, when I’m done. That’s the whole point of taking turns.”

“See? She won’t share!”

“Oh, shut up, Tanner.”

The mom gasped in horror. “Young lady! We do not use words like that! That is extremely inappropriate!”

“Yeah!” the boy echoed, smirking.

“If you think it’s so inappropriate, why’d you name him that?” Cat snapped back.

The mom’s brow furrowed as the insult took a few seconds to register. Her face morphed from shock to anger. “Why, you little…”

Cat’s attention was suddenly diverted. At the edge of her gaze, she spotted a dark blue blazer with matching pants. Kimberly Kingston had spotted her as well. How the fridge had that woman found her so quickly? Was she an FBI agent in disguise?

No, it had to be Cat’s luck. What were the chances, in a city as big as New York, that Kingston could have found her in less than two hours?

She swore, drawing another horrified gasp from the mom, who slapped her hands over her son’s ears.

“Young la—”

“Suck it, Karen!” she yelled, making a run for it.

“Cat, wait!” Kingston shouted. “Just listen—”

Cat didn’t pause to hear her out. She quickly glanced back, seeing the chaos that had ensued. The other moms had varying expressions, a mixture of entertained and perplexed. The mom was still covering her son’s ears, shouting very unladylike obscenities at her. Kimberly Kingston had started running as well, which was— frankly— a more amusing sight than not. Cat was faster, even with the heavy backpack weighing her down; she’d had more practice running away from things. Kimberly Kingston, on the other hand, looked like she’d had one too many donuts recently.

Cat sprinted at a pace she was pretty sure was equal to the speed of light. Kingston had no chance of catching her. Daring another glance back, Cat saw that the woman had slowed to a jog, but was barking orders in her phone and simultaneously shouting at onlookers to “Get that girl!”

Good luck with that, Cat thought.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

December - One week later - Outside a Taco Bell

“Hey, kid!”

The voice seemed like it was coming from far away. The smell of tacos was what made Cat’s eyes flutter open.

It was dark. A cold gust of night air whooshed by, prickling her skin. Cat realized she was shivering.

It had been roughly a week since her escape from Kingston at the park. Cat didn’t worry about them finding her too much. There was no one who cared about her that much who would initiate a rescue mission to find her. Trevor had only taken her in for the money, after all.

Despite the homeless thing, she felt like she was handling the whole situation pretty well. She spent most of her time exploring all the places she’d never been to, stopping to eat and clean herself up, and generally heading as far away from Trevor’s place as possible, all while trying to avoid Kingston finding her a second time.

However, Cat was worried about one thing. Her stack of money had been slowly diminishing. She’d never realized how expensive certain things were, like healthy food or coffee. Four dollars for a frappuccino at Starbucks? No, thank you. She didn’t dwell on it, preferring to burn that bridge when she came to it.

Libraries, Cat had decided, were her favorite place. They were a safe haven. They were warm, had coffee, and didn’t care if you looked suspicious as long as you were quiet and undisruptive. Cat had spent a whole day going through stacks of books. She’d always had a talent for memorizing. Once she’d read something once, it was rooted in her memory forever. She could skim through a novel and instantly recall all the words in the right order.

Finding places to sleep had been tricky. They were, most of the time, cold and inconvenient and rarely comfortable. The beds at the homeless shelter was all right, but she only stayed for a couple of days so as to not draw suspicion. That day, she’d finally stopped at a Taco Bell, deeming the back wall an acceptable place to sleep for the night. She’d dozed off with her back to the wall, hugging her backpack between her chest and her knees.

“Hey,” the voice said again.

Cat squinted upwards. There was a guy standing before her, holding two tacos and a drink. He looked young. He had a Taco Bell apron on, and a Taco Bell hat. Cat guessed it was safe to assume he was a Taco Bell employee.

“Hi,” she said.

Crap. Was he going to tell her she wasn’t allowed to sleep here? She started to get up, trying to explain.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll sleep somewhere else…”

“No, no, it’s not that! You’re fine,” he reassured her.

Thank god, because she didn’t know if she had the strength to walk another ten steps. She sank back down against the wall, blinking her eyes groggily.

“Here.” He held out a taco to her.

It took Cat a moment to register his words. Her head felt like it was full of cotton. They smelled heavenly. She’d been so preoccupied finding a spot to sleep that she’d forgotten to eat. Her stomach grumbled. She reached out to take it, and scarfed it down like she hadn’t eaten in days. Flavors burst in her mouth. It was delicious.

“Whoa! Slow down, there. You don’t want to choke.”

Cat chewed a fraction slower and swallowed. She must’ve looked like a savage. “Thank you,” she said, wishing she had something to wash it down with.

He held out the other taco and the drink. “These are for you, too. You look like you need it.”

Cat reached out to take it, overcome by gratitude. “Wow. Thank you.” Cat downed the soda eagerly, not caring that she looked like a starving wild animal. She looked up at the Taco Bell employee, who looked slightly horrified.

She looked up at him. “Why are you helping me?”

He shrugged. “You looked like you needed it.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Look—” He crouched down next to her. “What’s your name?”

Cat blurted out the first name that came to mind. “Maxine.”

“Maxine, do you have any parents?”

“No.”

“Are you in the foster system?”

Cat was eternally grateful to him and all, but she didn’t like where this conversation was going. She stood up abruptly.

“Thanks for helping me. I really am grateful. But I have to go now.” She grabbed her backpack, the taco and the drink, and shoved past him.

“Wait!” he called after her. “I’m sorry!”

Once she ran far away enough, she slowed down to a walk, scouring the streets for places to sleep. She couldn’t deny that she felt a little scared, walking in the darkness. Taxi cabs zoomed by around her, making her shiver harder. Her thin coat was doing her no favors.

Cat found an empty alley and crouched down to eat the rest of her taco. Unfortunately, someone else had the same idea.

A small, dark blur sprang out from the darkness, lunging towards the taco. Cat yelped in shock, springing back, and lost her grip on it. The blur, which Cat identified as a small dog, grabbed it out of the air and sat on the ground, lowering the taco to the ground to eat it.

“Hey!” Cat yelled. “That’s not yours!”

The dog’s head whipped up in surprise, flinching back.

Cat made a grab for the taco, barely caring that it was covered in dog slobber. She had no plans to eat it, but there was no way in hell some small, annoying dog was getting away with stealing her food. The dog, lightning fast, snatched the taco back from the ground and growled.

“Give it back, you bastard!”

The dog darted between her legs, taco between its teeth. Cat spun back around. He wasn’t running. He had come to a stop by the corner of the alley, watching her. She swore it seemed to be mocking her, which only infuriated her more. The two watched each other intently, both waiting for the other to make the first move.

Cat did. She sprinted towards the alley, and the dog ran off again. She turned the corner and saw the dog’s head bobbing up and down as it bounded further and further away. The chase was unfair and pathetic. It continued for a block and a half before Cat realized how dumb it was.

She was chasing after a dog— a dog, for god’s sake— to obtain a taco that she didn’t even buy, that she wasn’t even going to eat.

Dogs have to eat, too, she reasoned. Even homeless ones.

What kind of heartless human being would let a dog starve? Better the dog have the meal, rather than both of them end up with nothing.

Sighing in frustration and mourning the loss of her taco, Cat sank on the steps of a brownstone and bundled her coat tightly around her. Her eyes slid shut, the pull of sleep more longing than ever. She laid her head on her knees and hugged herself, listening to the slowing beat of her heart.

She felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, just as a pitiful whine dragged her out of it. She shifted her head slightly to make out the dog sitting in front of the steps, teeth clamped around the taco.

“Jesus,” she muttered, turning back into her elbow. “Go away, evil spawn.”

The dog made another noise.

Cat lifted her head. “What do you want now?”

The dog laid the taco gently at her feet with the gentleness of a mother holding her child for the first time. The taco was soggy, covered in bite marks and dirt, and clearly past the point of inedibility. Despite this, Cat was slightly moved by the action.

“That’s nice. Disgusting, but nice. You may have redeemed yourself.”

She noticed the dog was a beagle. She’d read about beagles in a book about dogs before. Her photographic memory recalled the exact wording: Beagles come in such pleasing colors as lemon, red and white, and tricolor. The Beagle’s fortune is in his adorable face…

The dog nudged the taco towards her with his nose. Gazing at her expectantly, he had the most wide, innocent eyes.

“Fine, so you’re adorable. Get over it.”

… with its big brown or hazel eyes set off by long, houndy ears set low on a broad head. Beagles are loving and lovable, happy, and companionable—all qualities that make them excellent family dogs. No wonder that for years the Beagle has been the most popular hound dog among American pet owners. These are curious, clever, and energetic hounds who require plenty of playtime…

The beagle seemed to be waiting for her to pick the taco up.

Cat wrinkled her nose. “You can’t expect me to eat that. You’ve already gone and covered it in slobber.”

The beagle whined again.

“Okay, whatever. I’m going back to sleep,” she told the dog, feeling a bit silly. “So you can go now.”

She dropped her head, expecting to hear the dog’s footsteps padding away. There was none. She opened one eye warily, to see the dog still sitting next to the taco, having no plans to move away.

Stupid dog.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

December - the next day

When Cat woke up, the beagle hadn’t left, to her surprise and relief. He followed her when she stood up, and Cat made no move to stop him. She felt herself growing increasingly fond of him. Once it became clear that the dog had no plans of ditching her, she decided to name him. After two blocks of walking, she picked the name Taco, in memory of the taco that began their friendship.

That night, as Cat was scouring the streets for a place to sleep, she decided upon a long alleyway. It was windy and cold, and the walls would protect her from it. She’d been planning on sleeping against one of the walls when Taco started barking wildly.

That was the problem with dogs. Sometimes, they were adorable angels obediently listening to orders, and sometimes they were demons straight from hell who wouldn’t stop barking.

Taco was facing the empty side of a wall, jumping and barking like crazy.

“Shut up, shut up, please shut up,” Cat muttered to him, trying to calm him by rubbing his head. “Look, there’s nothing there—”

Cat paused. The lighting was so terrible she could hardly make out her hand in front of her face, and the side of the wall had been painted black, so she hadn’t noticed it at first. But now that her attention was fully focused on it, she noticed it— a barely perceptible outline along the side of the wall, almost like a door. She trailed her fingers along the outline, and sure enough, there was a handle.

She tried it. It was locked, of course. Curious now, she jammed her fingers into the thin crevice in the wall and attempted to pull, but it didn’t work. Taco had stopped barking. She ran and thrust her shoulder into the wall with all her might, like people did in the movies. She immediately regretted it, retreating with a series of curses and “ow ow ow ow ow ow,” cradling her bruised shoulder.

Cat took out the knife she’d stolen from Trevor’s kitchen and recalled a book she’d read on lock picking, just the other day in the library. The knife was slim and short, the perfect size. She jammed the knife into the lock the way the book had told her to, wiggled it until she heard it click in the right places, twisted—

Click.

Amazed and in disbelief that the stupid trick had actually worked , Cat twisted the handle and yanked. The door sprang open. Taco raced inside, abandoning all caution.

Cat stepped inside cautiously. It was dark, cold, and there didn’t seem to be anyone inside. She fumbled around for a light, found it, and flicked it up. She was greeted with a shocking surprise. The inside was well-lit, extremely tidy, and whoever had decorated it had excellent taste. There was a couch along with a modern-looking TV, a kitchen, and a hallway that led to a bedroom.

Cat knew now what Taco had found so bark-worthy. The delicious aroma of a pile of peanut butter cookies, lying on the counter of the kitchen. Taco was reaching with his paws toward the counter, trying to reach it. Cat felt the same way. She was starving. (Now, she always felt like she was starving.)

She didn’t need any prompting. She threw her backpack on the couch as if she’d lived there all her life, raced to the counter, and stuffed a cookie in her mouth. It was a bit hard and cold, but amazing. The proportions of salty peanut butter to sweet chocolate was perfect.

“I’m sorry,” Cat told Taco, through a mouthful of peanut butter cookie, feeling like the cruelest dog owner in the world as she swallowed. “You can’t have these. They have chocolate in them.”

That same day, she’d made Taco wait outside the library as she memorized as many books on beagles as she possibly could. There were a lot of things dogs couldn’t eat. No raisins, coconut oil, alcohol, and most of all, no chocolate.

Suddenly having an idea, Cat rummaged through the fridge and found a jar of peanut butter. She let Taco lick a good amount out of the jar before she closed it.

A horrifying thought smashed into her. If there were peanut butter cookies plated on the counter, surely someone must’ve baked them. Which meant that someone had lived there, recently. Judging by the temperature, the person hadn’t baked them in the last hour, which probably meant they were coming back soon. And based off the fact that the room was hidden behind a secret door of a filthy alleyway, whoever lived there probably hadn’t intended anyone to find it. All signs pointed to Get out of here, fast, before something horrible happens and you die!

Cat bit her lip as she thought about this, looking around the room. She hadn’t been in a place this clean since… well, since she’d lived at her old house in California. There was electricity, food, a place to sleep, and probably a good amount of other things she could scrounge up. This place like this probably had clean water, band-aids, and a bunch of stuff she could really use.

She made a plan. She wouldn’t stay there long, because it was obviously a horrible idea. But she’d get food for her and Taco, grab any other useful things she found, and then get the hell out of there. She debated the ethics of stealing, but reasoned that it was too good of an opportunity to let slip by.

Cat rifled through the fridge first, relieved to find a great deal of pre-cooked meals and some chicken for Taco. She found a few and heated them, trying to follow the instructions on the box the best she could. While that was happening, she grabbed the plate of cookies and stuffed them in her mouth— because seriously, they were so good— while searching through the place for any other items they might need.

Surprisingly she found quite a few medical supplies— bandages, Neosporin, and a bunch of anti-whatevers she couldn’t pronounce. Along with that, some nail clippers(hers were getting long), wipes, more toothpaste, and band-aids. In the kitchen, she found a variety of energy bars, snacks, and was especially delighted to find three boxes of Lucky Charms. She took one of them.

By then she’d finished the plateful of cookies, only feeling slightly guilty because, once again, they were seriously so delicious . She was still hungry enough to finish one of the reheated meals. Afterwards, having satisfied her hunger and filled her backpack to brim with supplies, she was ready to go.

Taco was gently snoring, head resting on his paws, after eating all the chicken. He looked so serene that Cat felt like it would be a crime to wake him up.

She realized that she felt really tired, too. All that food had made her sleepy. And she hadn’t slept in… she’d lost count of the hours. If she and Taco ventured back outside, they’d have to sleep in the cold, wet alleyway, she reasoned, slowly convincing herself. And the couch in front of the TV looked so soft and inviting…

What harm could it do if she just took a little nap? Who cared if someone found her? She was a kid, there was no way they’d hurt a little kid… With those thoughts in mind, she all but collapsed on the couch and passed out.

When she woke up, someone was holding a gun to her head.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Notes: I think we can all guess who’s holding that gun! Natasha makes her appearance in the next chapter! Sorry for not being consistent… I’ll stick to my schedule from now on. Next chapter posted tomorrow! Please like and reblog if you’re enjoying it! See you soon! Thanks!

#black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #civilian!reader x natasha romanoff #natasha Romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha x reader #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #black widow fic #black widow x reader

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delfiore · 11 months

Text

—DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT (3/3)

pairing: natasha romanoff x android!reader

synopsis: natasha finds a way to to lure you out; and, a confrontation.

warnings: canon violence

word count: 3.8k

a/n: last part wooo!!! i’m so glad this idea is fully written out now after sitting in the dungeon for like 2 years.

PART I, PART II

Natasha had known pain like any other feeling.

The Red Room ensured her a lifetime's worth of it. But rarely, though, has she ever felt the pain of betrayal. Perhaps the Sokovia Accords had given her a taste, but it was nothing compared to when she looked you in the eyes, knowing that you had just tried to kill her.

"I'm sorry for everything," you had said. So easy to just say sorry as if that would solve everything.

Was everything you and her had together all a lie? A part of the scheme created by whoever was sick enough to be behind all of it? You had been the perfect little spy, Natasha should have known.

She let her emotions compromise the Avengers.

"Well?" She turned around when she saw Steve walk into the common lounge. He was still in his suit, meaning he must have just returned from patrol.

"Still no sign of Y/N or VULCAN's location," he replied. "Tony's saying we attempt to catch another android. Only this time, we make sure we get whatever information we need out of it."

"That won't work", Nat shook her head. "Those things are airtight. Their programs won't allow it."

The Captain pursed his lips, watching his teammate and friend stare at the monitor displaying your information. "Nat." He spoke quietly.

She stayed silent. If only I had been more vigilante, she wanted to say.

"There was no way you could have known." Steve sighed, setting his shield down by the table. "She managed to fool everyone."

Natasha chewed at her lower lip, looking to the ceiling to stop the wetness from spilling out of her eyes.

"I let her fool me," she exhaled. "I won't let it slide."

"What's your play?" Steve asked.

"I racked my brain, trying to understand why. Why infiltrate us? Why get close to me?" Natasha turned to him. "And then I got it. They want to create an army, but not just any army; an army of androids. Think Ultron's army, but each of them possesses the same intelligence and mental capacity that humans do. That's what Y/N is, a perfect soldier."

"So how do we stop 'em? Can't be as easy as punching our way in like we did with Ultron," Tony appeared from the doorway with a mug in his hand. "I mean we don't even know where they are."

"There’s something that I haven’t told you, about my past,” Nat pursed her lips before she continued. “In the Red Room, they used a formula to control our minds. The other day, I checked my laptop for a file disguised as the real formula. Sure enough, it had been copied, no doubt by Y/N when I wasn’t looking.”

“So she doesn’t have the real formula?” Steve asked.

“Which means we still have some leverage.” Tony said grimly. “We need to hurry before we lose that too.”

Natasha inhaled warily and nodded. She wasn’t used to being on the losing side, and she would you just what it felt like to be backed in a corner.

It was easy for you to adjust to your new position at VULCAN. With the data from the Red Room retrieved and in Caesar's possession, you became his favorite among his human and android soldiers. Instead of your regular civilian clothes, you were now dressed in dark and tight clothing fit for a spy. A real spy, that's what you were now.

As you approached his office, the guards by the door saluted and granted you entrance without a word. Caesar was looking out the window wall behind his desk, his back facing you.

"16."

"Sir." You lifted your chin. "Batch PF200 has just finished being assembled. They should be ready to be deployed in a few days."

"Good," Caesar said, unmoving. You took that as a sign to be dismissed, but as you turned to leave, he spoke up. "Wait."

You straightened up again. "Do you remember why I created VULCAN?"

"To create a better world, sir." You answered without hesitation. "To arm the world with intelligence void of human errors."

"Correct, and yet," he turned to face you, his eyes hard and dark. "All you've done ever since you were activated is FAIL!"

His sudden outburst made you jump out of your skin. Your breathing quickens as you watch him pull out a USB from his pocket, and toss it on the table. It was the one you handed him.

"It's a fake." He gritted his teeth.

"B-But, I thought—" You sank to your knees with a scream as a volt of electricity coursing through your body in an instant. Looking up, you saw Caesar with a remote in his hand, his knuckle turning white at how hard he was pressing it.

"Where is the real file?!" He shouted over you.

"I-I don't know, I thought that was the real file! I took it off of Natasha Romanoff's personal computer." You blurted out quickly.

"I ordered you to kill the Black Widow, and you fail, but this?! This was the whole reason I brought you online!" You flinched at his tone, as you doubled over on the floor. Caesar had never treated you like this before. It made you fear whatever punishment came next.

"I'm sorry, sir," you uttered meekly, your legs still spasming preventing you from getting back up.

He sighed, his shoulders sagging as he shook his head. "It seems there might still be some . . . shortcomings in your program. That would be my fault, I failed. You're a failure, 16."

You swallowed and pushed yourself up, your legs still wobbling but you stood, though your eyes were stained with tears. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again." You wanted to sound firm, to make Caesar believe that he could trust you again. Without Caesar's trust, what did you have left?

"No, it won't." He said bitterly and leaned into you. "You are a weapon, 16, and you will be of use in that front. You will kill, and you will be good at it. As for your well-roundedness, well . . ."

Caesar walked over to the adjacent wall, and pressed a button next to it. The wall unblurred and revealed a lab below where engineers were working tirelessly on another android model. Its left arm and leg weren't yet connected to the rest of the body, parts of them laying at the side. The torso was bare, still revealing the metal underneath the skin that would be put on. But its face was what caught your attention; it was as if you were staring at another version of yourself, a disembodied jumble that was still blissfully asleep.

"I've been working to improve you, 16," Caesar said, looking down proudly at his creation. "The Winter Soldier program shocked and froze its Soldiers to keep them in line, but they’d never truly have control over them. I have the resources to start anew each time the current one becomes faulty.

This is model FD700-17, your successor. It will be faster, stronger, more intelligent, and most important of all, absolutely void of human errors. Perfection."

Your eyes burned, your extremities ached from the current, your heart broken in half. Why did you ever think that you weren’t expendable? You were a machine, and there was always going to be something else coming along to replace you. Maybe being with Natasha made you feel special, like you could live a life. None of that mattered anymore.

“I have a lead on the real formula, sent by the Black Widow herself.” Caesar came up behind you. “Tick tock, 16, or your next stop will be the scrap metal yard.”

The address Natasha sent lead you to an abandoned warehouse by the piers. It was clever, no one ever has business here, and those that do usually wishes to keep their presence under the radar. You walked in cautiously, hand on the gun you had by your belt. You armed yourself generously; every pocket you had you had put something sharp in it, not that you planned on using it on Nat.

By the time you reached the third floor, you stilled your movements to listen to your surroundings, but all you heard was water dripping from rotten pipes and the sound of the city in the distance.

“If I had known it’d be this easy to smoke you out, I wouldn’t have bothered with all the patrolling we’ve been doing the past few weeks,” you heard a voice spoke behind you.

Turning around, you saw her standing where you came in, dressed in her combat suit, her hair braided and by her shoulders. Behind her, you could see the hilts of her machetes peaking out. She wore a teasing smile on her face like nothing happened.

“You expecting a fight?” You called out.

“Just being cautious.”

“Are we alone?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.” It was a big feat asking that after all the deception that you’ve done. Humans tended to not be rational after they’ve been lied to, thinking that transparency isn’t warranted on their end. You expected it from Natasha.

“Where’s the disk, Natasha?”

She pulled it out and held it up in between her fingers. “You mean this?”

What you didn’t expect was for her to toss it over to you, just like that. What you needed was in your hands. You looked at the formula in your hands; you’d had to give up your humanity for this.

“Everything you need is on there, or rather, your maker does,” she said.

“Why are you giving this to me?”

“Because I trust that you’ll do the right thing,” she spoke, her eyes soft and empathetic. “I know that if you really wanted to give it to your maker, you could have a long time ago. Something’s holding you back, that’s your humanity, Y/N.”

“That’s not my name.” You shook your head. “I-I don’t have a name.”

“You can still make the right decision,” she took a step closer. “Help us take Caesar down, help me.”

“And then what?” You scoffed humorlessly. “What place do I have in the world? I was made to kill, Natasha. I was made to sabotage and kill you until he decided that I wasn’t good enough. I’m tired of feeling like I’m not good enough.”

“I know you don’t think I know how you feel, but I do.” Natasha looked at you. “Okay? I do. I was made to be a weapon too, one my own handler could just discard if he felt like he didn’t need me anymore. You’d find that a lot of us have similar stories, but we can’t let them win, Y/N. We deserve a chance to live too.”

Her eyes were stained with tears. “You’ve made my life worth living.”

You were crying too, but your tears were synthetic. You had a chance once, but you didn’t go down that path, and now you were here.

Now you were here.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve been stalling.” You spoke quietly.

A loud explosion sounded outside the building, rattling the entire structure. The sound of helicopter blades swarming and landing cut through the night.

“We got incoming, Nat!” You heard Steve’s voice through her intercom.

“So much for being alone,” you utter coldly, and turned on your heels to escape.

There was a loud shriek, a sound of metal giving out. You looked back, and the floor was collapsing in front of you, a dark pit opening up ready to swallow Natasha with it. You didn’t think. You leapt towards the edge, and extended your hand hoping you’d be fast enough to catch her. When she looked up, her face was covered in dirt and grime, in her eyes a rare display of fear.

Whenever you decided to go against your program, your head becomes warm, your body becomes limp, and your judgment slows. It was so debilitating that you sometimes feel as if you had no control over your body at all, your mind screaming at you to obey, obey, obey. And yet you gathered your strength. Yet, you pulled her to safety.

Your superhuman strength and the momentum at which you hoisted her upwards threw her onto the other side of the floor, her body hitting the ground with a thump.

“He won’t let me go,” you knew either way you would die, but it would be by Caesar’s hand.

Without a word, she took your hand and jumped out the window as the rest of the building sunk into a pile of rubble.

The rest of the Avengers quickly assembled around her, but hesitated once they saw you.

“Hey, kid.” Tony floated above the others. “Your room at the Compound’s still vacant. Why don’t you come back with us?”

You laughed, and sat back, still reeling from the impact. You almost missed the searing pain that pierced your side of a bullet fired from distance.

“Y/N!” Natasha gasped.

Your eyes followed the bullet’s line of projection. There it stood, the image of what Caesar wanted you to be, what you could have been but never would be.

FD700-17.

Its eyes were cold and hard, as it holstered the gun it used to shoot you.

“At last, the Avengers.” He reveled in the moment, but scowled when he turned to you. “I should have known you would betray me sooner or later.”

“We’ve done this dance before,” Tony shrugged. “We’ll do it again.”

“Eyes up, guys.” Steve said and charged. 17 was the exact replica of you, and therefore smaller in stature than him, yet it blocked his fist like it was nothing and sent him flying back with a single punch.

Caesar cackled beside it as his army of androids lined up behind him.

“Leave it to me.” You stood up, the bullet materializing out of your stomach. You palmed it and tossed it aside.

17 charged like a bull that saw red. Its punches were heavy and skillful, but familiar. You realized that Caesar had used the same combat program for 17 that he used for you. You matched each other stride for stride, like fighting a mirror.

“You disobeyed Caesar,” it voiced, eyes blazed. “You’ve become weak.”

You managed to block a right hook but didn’t see a knee coming up to thrust into your open wound. You sank to your knees with a cry of pain. You felt a hand grab you by your hair and drag you towards a piece of broken scaffolding that perked up from rubble. It attempted to press your neck into it, its strength overbearingly dominant over your injured body.

“But don’t worry,” 17 seethed. “I’ll take your place.”

You used the last of your strength, fueled by fury, to push back. A headbutt sent 17 stagger back, and you grabbed its head and reversed the position that you were in mere seconds before.

“There’s too many of them!” You heard Clint cry out in the distance.

“Keep going! Don’t quit!” Sam called back as he slammed his wings into one of the androids.

17 was stronger and pushed you back, then proceeded to pummel you hard. When it was done, you noticed half of the shell on your face—the one that gave you your human appearance—had fallen off.

“Traitor!” 17 yelled. “You’re ignorant of the good that Caesar could be doing to the world. You don’t understand his cause!”

“Is that what he’s been telling you?” You managed to utter, spitting out blood. “‘Cause he told me that I was his favorite. That’s what he does. Why do you think I’m number 16, you’re 17? Once he’s bored of you, he’ll toss you aside like you’re nothing.”

For the first time, you saw the corner of 17’s lips perk up. “So naive. This is why you’re no good. I would not let these petty emotions get the way of my service. I will die knowing I’ve serve my purpose.”

It’s got the upper hand, not having an open wound in a spot where it would hurt with every turn of the body. You were staggering when 17 charged towards you, hugging your stomach to slam you down on the ground with a thud. It clamped you down by straddling your midsection.

“So long, 16.” 17 said, pointing a gun at your forehead. You closed your eyes and waited for judgment.

“No!” A scream sounded from afar, then the sound of metal hitting 17 above you. It was Natasha. You opened your eyes, and redirected the gun away from you, just as it went off. In a split second, you had disarmed 17, and had it under your boots.

With a swift precision, you fired into its forehead, the left side of the chest where the synthetic heart would be.

“Too slow, junior.” You muttered, looking down at the corpse of your successor.

“16!” You heard a yell. Turning around you saw Caesar bleeding from his temple, keeping Natasha in a headlock, a gun pointed to her head.

“Let her go!” Tony held out a hand that would fire a rocket at him.

Caesar snickered. “You’ll never understand the magnitude of what I could have achieve with VULCAN, you never will.” He turned to you. “You’re too human for that.”

You sucked in a breath. “I refuse to be your machine.”

“Oh. Is that so?” He squeezed the barrel of the gun into Natasha’s temple, earning a squirm from her as she tried to free herself. “All because of her? She’s barely human. All the things she’s done, all the blood she’s spilled. I’d be almost tempted to take her back, pull her apart and put her back together to become a worthy soldier of mine.”

“It’s over, Caesar. You have nowhere else to run.” You staggered closer. “Let her go if you don’t want to be locked up in the Raft for the rest of your life”.

He took a step back, almost reaching the edge to plummet into the Hudson River. Steve blocked his right next to Clint, while Tony raised his arms feom the left flank. He was completely cornered.

“See, this is why you think you can be human, but you never will be.” Caesar growled, a wild grin on her face, blood caked on his white hair. “I’m your maker, I’ll always be one step ahead of you.”

He didn’t let you respond before aiming the gun at his own head. When he fell to the ground and his head hit the asphalt, he was dead.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and suddenly the pain of all the injuries you carried. You didn’t even have half of your face plate anymore, lost somewhere under scraps of the fight.

“Nat . . .” You shuddered, and walked over to her. You hesitated and stopped a few paces before her, but she threw herself at you, locking you in a tight embrace.

She let out a tearful laugh when she pulled back, examining your injuries.

You felt your breath getting more shallow as the second passed. Your oxygen compartments have been punctured, and you saw the warning in your vision: “Life functions critical, be advised to return to base for repair.”

You thought you might have lost your balance and collapsed, but Natasha caught you in time. You rested your head on her lap, your right eye had completely malfunctioned, and you could only see that Nat were crying from the peripheral of your left.

“Life functions critical, be advised to return to base for repair.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, but you did know if your voice was strong enough for her to hear.

“Shh, stop talking,” she refused to meet your eyes, scanning your battered body, and grasping your hand, “reserve your strength.”

“I wish we could have met under different circumstances,” you smiled, but you barely see anymore. “I wish I could have been . . . someone you deserved.”

“You were everything I wanted and more,” Natasha spoke, then rummaged through her pocket. “See this? See this, Y/N? That’s for you.”

She held the ring in front of you, but your eyes were glazed, and staring past her towards the night sky.

“Y/N?” She whispered, like a prayer, like it would somehow pull you back to her. “Tony! Please.”

The man came by your side, but somehow he knew that it was too late.

When you were activated, you didn’t have a mission. The first emotion you thought you could register was surprise. Why don’t I have a purpose?

You were laying in a bed in a room, one that you thought you had been in before. Its design was modern, sleek, yet elegant with great feng shui. Where were you? You sat up carefully, feeling refreshed and relaxed, as if you had just woken up from a well-deserved sleep. Whatever happened before you slept, you had no recollection of.

The door clicked open, a woman with red hair and an older man with dark hair entered. She had a look of timidness when she came closer, and judging by the lack of confidence in her stance, you assumed she meant you no harm.

“Hey, kid. Glad to have you back.” The man said with a smile. You scanned your database, no memory of him whatsoever.

“You know me?” He nodded. You didn’t even know who you were.

You looked at your hands, your fingers. They curled and uncurled with exceptional speed and precision.

“Nanotechnology. Impressive” You concluded. “Are you my maker?”

The man laughed, and shook his head. “No. Just someone with a knack for electronics, and tried to fix you up.”

You turned to the woman who has been silent this entire exchange. There was a name. “You’re . . . Natasha.”

This came as a surprise to her. She gasped as her eyes began to fill with tears. “Yeah, that’s me,” she said. “How did you know that?”

You shrugged. “It’s the only thing in my database. Why is that?”

There was a lightness that washed over you the moment you said her name, like a bout of heavy rain washing away all the weight of the world, purging you then making room for a new beginning, a fresh start.

Memory was a funny thing like that. Her name must have been the only thing salvaged from your last iteration.

Natasha.

You had no mission, yet you were here. No purpose, yet you were here. Figured, you would make your own purpose in the world, and you knew just where to start.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff angst #natasha x you #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff

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nattyscuddlycabin · 10 months

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Sparks Fly

Natasha Romanoff x f!Reader

Warnings: red room ways of raising girls, bad coping mechanisms, mission gone wrong, deaths of people (not major characters), language, mentions of blood, gauze, and wrap

Genre: Angst + Fluff ending

Summary: Natasha’s mission failed, leading to civilian deaths, and she ends up coping in a way she was thought by the Red Room.

A/N: Reader is Bulgarian in this because I am lazy and I don’t feel like dealing with google translate right now, so I just used my home language cuz it’s also slavic, ok? Ok!

Translations:

Bulgarian:

любов моя - my love

мое златно сърце- my golden heart

Russian:

Детка-baby

(ﾒ﹏ﾒ)

The mission was for the team to rescue the Hydra “experiments” then blow up the base. However, the outcome of the mission ended up being a blown up base with just two or three experimented on kids being saved. It was all a miscommunication, but Natasha blamed herself for it. She thought that she should have been able to help fix the chaos and save the rest of the kids, but there they were, back at the tower, filling it with thick melancholy in the air.

Y/N tried to soothe Natasha and help her not think of it all as her fault. She wasn’t at the mission, but she knew that Nat wasn’t fully at fault and that Nat did everything in her power to get the mission to go right. Natasha Romanova may seem cold but she always does her best to save everybody.

Finally, Nat just told Y/N that she wants some alone time to process things. Y/N wasn’t sure that it was best for Nat to be alone at such a time, but she let her have her personal time.

Hours later, Y/N was concerned that she had still not heard anything from Nat, so she went into her room, only to find no one there.

“Jarvis, where’s Tasha?” You ask worriedly.

“Miss Romanova has left the tower. She appears to be in a ballet studio Downtown.”

“Oh shit… how long ago did she leave?”

“Miss Romanova left the tower at 1 pm today.”

“Jarvis, send me the location of the ballet studio.”

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N. It has been sent.”

You look down at your phone, putting on navigation to the studio, and run off to the elevator.

After a few minutes, you park in front of a studio with blurred windows, but you only see one person inside.

Running off to the door, you walk in slowly, knowing you probably startled the redhead inside. She looks at you for a second before hiding her face away from you and continuing her “practice.”

“Hey baby, I need you to pause, okay?”

She just quietly continues dancing to the music of the silence in the room.

“Nat. I’m serious.”

She ignores you again.

“Natalia, stop,” you say in a low, stern voice.

She stops, slowly lowering her arms and leg from the position she’d been in, still refusing to face you. She lowers to the ground, rolling up in a ball and hiding her face in her legs.

You walk over to her, sitting down next to her. You hug her.

You speak, softer than before“Baby, you have been dancing for…” You check your phone, seeing the time being 5:04, “four hours now. You are hurting yourself. You don’t deserve to be punished, sweetheart. You aren’t there anymore. I’m here, okay?”

A quiet sob escapes her lips as she whispers, “I killed them…”

“No, you didn’t. You have never killed anybody on purpose, любов моя.”

She just keeps crying quietly for a bit.

You softly caress her foot and ask, “can I take them off?”

“Mhm” she mumbles out, sniffling quietly.

You slowly untie the ballet shoes, sliding them off her feet. Noticing how bloody her feet have gotten under her ballet shoes, you sigh in concern and open your little bag you carry around, finding the gauze and wrap, putting on the gauze on the worst places, and wrapping it up to secure it in place before softly massaging each foot, enough to make her feel a bit more relaxed, but not too much, careful not to hurt her.

“Baby, can you look at me, please?” You ask in a whisper.

She looks up, her reddened face wet from tears. You move your hand calmly up to her cheek, brushing away the last tear prickling down her beautiful face, and giving her a loving smile.

“I will always love you,” you whisper.

She looks at your eyes and smiles slightly, whispering back, “I love you too.”

You get up, reaching for her hand as you pull her up, hugging her. As you are hugging, you slowly start moving side to side, as she rests her head on your chest.

“Drop everything now…” you begin singing slowly, slower than the tempo of the actual song.

“Meet me in the pouring rain, kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain, ‘cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile,” you twirl her and continue dancing while looking at each other, “get me with those green eyes baby as the lights go down, give me something that’ll haunt me when you’re not around,” you boop her nose and she giggles, “cause I see sparks fly whenever you… smile,” you smile as you see her already smiling at you.

“Okay let’s go home now, okay? We don’t need your feet hurting even more. I love you, мое златно сърце.”

“I love you too, детка.”

(¯ ³¯)♡

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff comfort #cute natty #natasha romanoff angst #red room

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enchantedbarnes · 4 months

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Recommendations #2 💌

Well hello again. Just in case you make your way through my first list, here's some more reading material for you 😉

I went digging to find some past gems - these lists are also partly selfish so I can go back and re-read them easily.

💖 Thank you to all of these creators for all the writing you've shared with us. I very much appreciate all of you! 💖

And to all you readers out there, I hope you enjoy and send some love to all of these beautiful writers 🥰

If you haven't already, you can check out my first Recommendation List - Here ❤️‍🔥 make sure they get all of the love too

Caught In The Fire by @dreamwritesimagines

Pairing: Mobster! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: In a city ruled by gangsters, nothing is ever simple.

Delicate Edges by @wkemeup

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Biker!AU)

Summary: Your family’s beloved flower shop was not the only thing you inherited when your parents passed. Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, you bear the cost of your father’s desperate bargain. It’s only in moments when the charming Bucky Barnes walks into your shop that you can forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. The border is crumbling. You're trapped in the middle. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Sunrise by @wkemeup

Parings: Bucky x Reader (veteran!bucky x librarian!reader)

Summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is discharged from active duty and sent back to civilian life. Left with a storm of unchecked guilt, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU)

In the Embers by @foreverindreamlandd

Pairing: Firefighter!Bucky x Fem!Plus Size!Adopted Rogers!Reader

Summary: It’s been years since you’ve been home, and you didn’t expect it to be in the aftermath of your life falling apart. Though much has changed over time, one thing has stayed the same: Bucky Barnes is still the boy next door, and there’s no running from him now.

Awake My Soul by @foreverindreamlandd

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It's been five years since the zombies started invading, and despite everything you've been through, you've survived up until this point. And now you must survive your most dangerous challenge yet...the grumpy, untrusting, captivating Bucky Barnes.

Check out their Bucky masterlist 😍 -> Here

Beneath the Milky Twilight by @bucksangel

Pairing: Ceo!Bucky Barnes x Personal Assistant!Reader (Sugarbaby!AU)

Summary: Being Mr. Barnes’ personal assistant has been tough, balancing a full time job while taking care of your younger brothers has you running yourself thin. Then, things take a sharp turn after a dinner with your boss when you disclose your financial situation.

‘The Road Goes Ever On and On’ by @rocketrhap3000

Pairings & Characters: Bucky Barnes x singlemom!reader, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson (eventually), and OC three year old Jasper :)

Summary: Life as a single mother of a three year old certainly has its struggles. But when a sweet stranger makes his way into you and your little boy’s life, a one of a kind connection sparks.

Yours, Mine, Ours by @coffeecatsandcandles

Pairing: singledad!Bucky Barnes x singlemom!pediatrician!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes has been raising his girls, Rebecca and Winnie, for the last two years. He'd lost all hope of falling in love again until he met you, a pediatrician with two children of your own- Elliot and Willow. He falls in love and he falls hard, but the challenges of being single parents still weigh on you both at times. Luckily, you'll always have each other.

Also you need to go read their entire Masterlist

Mob!Bucky x Fairy Masterlist by @kinanabinks

Pairing: 18+ | Mob!Bucky x Best Friend!Reader

the adventures of bucky and his little fairy.

Appointments by @noctumbra (prev buckycuddlebuddy)

Pairing: tfatws!bucky barnes x reader

Summary: in which bucky gets a fuck buddy and rediscovers his body’s needs and himself in the twenty-first century.

We Fell in Love in October by @noctumbra (prev buckycuddlebuddy)

Pairing: farmer!bucky barnes x reader

Summary: in which october brings love for bucky with his favorite season surrounding him.

As It Was, Baby (AO3) by @nexusnyx

Pairing: Neighbor Bucky x Reader

Summary: Living right across from James Barnes was certainly an experience, but a much different one than most people expect. A neighbour who is respectful, funny and brings you food every now and then is any girl's dream. Too bad you're only his neighbour and nothing else. Or, at least, that's what you thought.

One stormy night changes everything and discovering that you mean more to the Sargent than you expected has life-altering consequences.

Bring Me to Life by @nameless-ken

Pairing: Dad!Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky is a struggling single father trying to take care of his daughter when a stranger welcomes them into her home and brings a gentle love back into their life.

Masterlist for nameless-ken -> Here

Unexpected by @nameless-ken

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: Our mutual friend dropped out of this trip at the last minute, so hi I guess we’re spending the next two weeks together.

The Bienville by @indyluckycharlie

Pairing: Modern AU Bucky Barnes x Reader

(Island/CEO!AU)

Summary: Bucky is the young CEO of his family’s publishing house. A year into the role and working his ass off, he’s finally taking a much needed vacation (upon the advice of his well-meaning family and friends).

Solo and feeling a little lost, Bucky finds himself getting a little attached to the front desk receptionist, a local who grew up on the islands and dreams of bigger things.

All You Need by @barnesafterglow

Pairing: publisher!bucky x author!reader

Summary: just after finishing college and your first novel, you meet bucky barnes - a friend of a friend, a publisher, and hopefully something more

No Day But Today by @buckysfaveplum

Pairing: bucky barnes x artist!female reader

Summary: bucky finds himself enamored with the girl upstairs who paints on the fire escape.

(loosely inspired by mimi and roger from rent)

Brotherhood and Bullets Masterlist by @rookthorne

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

The 107th motorcycle club has been the protector of their collective hometown for many, many years - shouldering all the bloodshed and loss that came with it. Little did you know, you'd become the President's own twisted version of an angel on his shoulder; the tips of your angelic wings tinged red by your own demons.

Check out rookthorne's full masterlist -> Here

The Old Man's Grocery Order (AO3) by yarnforbrains

Pairing: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader

Summary: The grocery order was the same every week, and every week it came with the same instructions: Don’t ring the bell. Leave it and go.

It wasn’t the most polite message, but that’s about what you expected from someone with a grocery list like this...You figured it was an older man.

Our Home to Heal by @subwaysurf45

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: working at the VA, you’ve found your place. helping people in the sobriety unit as well as cooking for the food bank, the VA had everything for you. Bucky Barnes has a not-so-good first impression but after dealing with a dark recent past he finds you to help him heal.

Snow by @delaber

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Tired of your constant bickering, Sam sends you and Bucky on a mission alone. When the worst possible outcome happens and you’re forced to spend several days together in a small cabin, you finally get to see a different, more pleasurable side to the man whose flesh you’ve always had a thorn in.

Finding Home by @jobean12-blog

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x reader (Animal Rescue AU)

Summary: You meet Bucky while he’s out walking Alpine in the city. It’s love at first sight and to make it even better he just opened up an Animal Rescue, Shelter to Solider. But will his past stand in the way of him finally finding his home.

Stud and Smartie Universe by @navybrat817

Pairing: Mechanic Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (Stud and Smartie)

AU Summary: You're crazy about your handsome roommate. Luckily, he feels the same way about you.

Your Hands Have Made Some Good Mistakes by @thenhewaswrongaboutme

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky has to spend six months locked up with a stranger. His teammates went on an international press tour and left him behind. They hired someone to supervise him, per the conditions of his pardon— a roommate, they said. A roommate?

Happy New Year

and Happy Reading!

(Dividers by saradika)

#my recs #fic recommendations #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction

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lightlyblooming · 2 years

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A Mistake

Part Two

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Summary: Natasha makes a mistake by divorcing her wife and later, makes another mistake by blowing up a building that she was in.

Words: 3.1k

Request: hi! my first request was AMAZING. and im back for more really angsty natasha x fem!reader fics. basically r and nat's in an established relationship but they break up and r leaves the country. flash forward few years, nat still loves r but has no contact with her at all or no location idea whatsoever. then she is sent on a mission where she inevitably needs to bomb a building with civilians inside as collateral damage. when she looks at the bodies, she is horrified to discover one of the civilians is r. i need a good cry and i know you can do it! thank you! heres a cookie btw 🍪

A/N: Thank you for requesting, and thank you for getting me to write angst again. I forgot how much I enjoyed it. This was so fun to write.

Warnings: Death, divorce

When Natasha placed the divorce papers in front of you, you had thought it was a joke.

You laughed forcefully and smiled, doubt and disbelief swirling in your stomach. She would never do that to you. She would never just divorce you. She would never play this sick of a prank. Yet, when you looked up at her, trying to find reassurance that it was all some misplaced humor, there was none.

Her expression was blank, emotionless, professional. No matter how hard you looked, you couldn’t find even a trace of her usual warmth and levity. You couldn’t understand. You refused to understand.

“Nat,” you said, the forced laugh lacing your words. “You’re joking.”

You hoped, you prayed, that her harsh exterior would crack and she would smile. That she would apologize for her lapse in judgment.

She didn’t. She merely kept silent.

“Nat,” you said, the laughter leaving you.

“Natasha,” you begged, the hope turning to ash on your tongue. You pushed to your feet, rising from the dining table you had set for the both of you. “Please, Natasha. No.”

Tears stung your eyes and sickness blossomed in your stomach. You reached out to her, but she stepped away. A broken gasp came out of your throat, followed by tears.

Finally, she spoke, but it wasn’t the kind words you craved. “Our marriage is over. You have two weeks to move out. I’ll help you pack. I’ll help you find somewhere to live and pay your rent for three months so you have time to get a job.”

“Natasha,” you said, unable to find any other words to explain the gaping hole that had been wrenched open in your chest. “I—, Nat, love, please.”

She merely looked at you with her devastatingly emotionless eyes. There wasn’t a single tear or shred of any emotion. No sadness, no pain, no regret. Not even any joy or excitement or relief at serving the divorce papers.

“Choose a lawyer and I’ll pay their fees, whatever that is.” The ease and calmness that she spoke with made your heart shatter, worsening the nausea in your gut and the gaping hole in your chest.

“Why?” You could barely get the words out through your tears.

Natasha took in a deep breath and said, in a heartbreakingly even tone, “I’m in love with someone else. My secretary. A few weeks after we started sleeping together I tried to leave her, to mend our relationship, to find love for you again, but the longer the affair went on the more I realized just how little is between us anymore. She makes me feel things that you never had.”

You could hardly breathe. You could hardly comprehend the words that had come out of her mouth. Your knees went weak and you collapsed to the floor, a scream ripping out of you as your tears flowed freely from your eyes.

You screamed and begged Natasha through your sobs. You begged her to stay. You begged her to say that it was a joke. You promised that if she were just to say sorry you would forget all about the affair and the divorce papers. That you would go back to normal and turn a blind eye to everything. Yet she said nothing. She didn’t so much as react to your pain. She only turned and walked out of the dining room, the sound of her high-heels echoing through the halls of your house.

You cried for the rest of the night, first on the dining room floor, then as you threw out the food you had so lovingly made, and as you shoved the flowers you had driven two hours to get into the bottom of the garbage.

You sat outside the locked door of Natasha’s office until four in the morning, silent tears streaming down your cheeks, speaking quiet pleas over and over and over again. You tried to reason with her, bargain with her. You told her that you would forgive her. You said that you would work even harder to be a good wife.

Nothing worked. She didn’t so much as make a noise.

The next morning, Natasha was gone with a text stating that she would stay at a hotel until you were out of the house. So, with tears in your eyes, you packed.

You called her every half-hour to no answer. You took every bit of clothes and jewelry and personal items that you could fit in your many suitcases. You even took some of Natasha’s items. Things she never really touched, like very floral perfumes she had bought on a whim, watches that her business partners had gifted her, earrings and necklaces that sat at the bottom of her jewelry box.

That night, you stayed at a luxury hotel that cost far too much, paid with Natasha’s credit card.

As soon as the divorce was settled and you were given a very comfortable amount of money and assets, you moved across seas to Europe, cutting all ties with Natasha. You even changed your first and last name to something Natasha would never recognize. You got a job and a house and restarted your life. However, nothing would be able to fill the chasm that Natasha had left.

⧗

Natasha regretted the divorce the moment she placed the papers in front of you and watched the way you crumbled.

She never wanted to divorce you. She never wanted to hurt you or end your relationship, but she had no choice. Her work for SHIELD was getting too dangerous. Her missions were getting longer from lasting just a weekend or ten days to demanding two to three weeks of her life. She barely had time for you anymore and soon enough, you would start to ask questions. You were too smart to blindly believe that her business trips took three weeks out of the month without suspecting that something was wrong.

Natasha thought that getting a divorce would be the best way to save you from future pain, to settle the situation without having to divulge that she was a spy for a secret agency, but when she told you, she knew it would be anything but easy.

She told you that she’d had an affair, even though that was a blatant lie. She never, ever, would’ve done that to you. She would never even think about it, but it was a quick explanation as to why she wanted to get a divorce. It was reason enough for her to disappear after the divorce was settled.

When you collapsed at her feet, her heart broke. The tears that she had struggled so much to keep in broke free.

She wanted to pull you into her arms and hold you, soothe you, tell you that she didn’t actually want a divorce, that she had never cheated, and that she loved you more than anything else. But she couldn’t. She had to survive. There was no other option.

There was no room in her life for love and marriage. She had tried so hard to make it work, but she should have known better. No Widow was meant to be happy and she was a fool for thinking that she was an exception.

She walked away and locked herself in her office, trying to drown herself in a book so that she didn’t hear your cries. When you came to her office door, she realized that would be a fruitless effort. She couldn’t do anything other than sit there as she heard your quiet pleas. Pleas that she couldn’t respond to no matter how much she ached to.

She wanted nothing more than to step out of her office and make everything better, to stop those tears and that pain, and make you smile once more. But she couldn’t. Not if she wanted to live. Not if she wanted you to live a life free of being weighed down by the burdens of international security.

Natasha held her place, even if that meant she cried all night. Even if she lost the love of her life.

When you finally went to sleep in the early hours of the morning, Natasha left the house, not caring about how she didn’t have any clothes to change into. She just didn’t think she would be able to exist in the same house as you any longer. It held too much memories of love and happiness. Love and happiness that she had single-handedly torn to the ground. She didn’t want to be around you and watch you be in pain when she knew there was nothing she could do to make you feel better.

Natasha settled the divorce as fast and as easily as she could, giving you far more than her lawyer had suggested or had even condoned. She even gave you the house and everything in it, which you had sold not even a week after getting it. She couldn’t blame you. She didn’t want to live in a home full of shattered love either.

She went on with her life the best she could. She distracted herself with work, constantly reminding herself that she was a Widow and that she didn’t have the luxury to love, especially to love you.

In time, her heart mended. She was able to go most days without thinking of you, though you still crept into her thoughts when everything was quiet and there was nothing to distract herself with. Even then, all she felt was a little pang of pain. She knew there was no getting you back, so there was no reason to hope. No reason to miss you.

She refused to do any research on where you had gone after the divorce. She refused to do even a simple google search to see if you had any social media. She was better off believing that you had moved to a quiet town in rural America where you were living your best life, happy and successful. Natasha didn’t acknowledge any other possible outcomes. She refused to think of you in pain.

When she was on particularly boring missions, she liked to imagine the life you were living. The current life she had come up with was the picture of suburban bliss: Married with two beautiful children. A mutt of a dog and cat that thought it ruled the world. A home full of love and safety, painstakingly decorated to ensure every little piece reflected the warmth that lived there. Hectic mornings of hastily-made pancakes and nights full of cuddles on the couch and games in the backyard.

She wanted to lose herself in the idea that you were happy, but she had to keep present. She had to stay focused on the mansion in the heart of Paris that she had been monitoring for the last month.

The owner of the mansion was a rogue operative of SHIELD. He had defected nearly eight months ago, practically disappearing from all forms of surveillance, and Natasha was charged to hunt him down kill him to make sure nothing got out. He was clearly a huge threat if she had been assigned to dispatch him. SHIELD didn’t let her out for just any mission.

Though even with how good Natasha was, she couldn’t track him. The only piece of evidence she could find on him was that he owned a mansion in Paris that functioned as a small district office for a large corporation. She just had to have patience and hope that he would drop by.

She felt horrible about her inability to track him, but she reminded herself that she was up against a very skilled spy. Her failure wasn’t because of her lack of skill, but because of his elevated abilities. After all, she wouldn’t be on the mission if he wasn’t good.

When he ended up showing up, she couldn’t go in to kill him the simple old-fashioned way with knives and guns. There were too many people, too many eyes. She couldn’t risk getting spotted and him getting away. Nor could she risk the existence of SHIELD getting out, so she had to go with something that would ensure he, and any witnesses, wouldn’t get away: blowing up the building.

It was a simple enough plan. She had sneaked into the building nearly two weeks ago to place the explosives and had been waiting for a sign that he was there.

The two weeks of waiting passed by very slowly. There wasn’t much to see. Only a few select people worked in the building, and there wasn’t much foot traffic on the small street. So Natasha spent much of the time in her thoughts, thinking of you.

Thankfully, before Natasha was able to get too caught up her emotions for you, she saw her target through one of the open windows.

The moment she saw him, she signaled for one of the other agents on the mission to set off the explosives. Within three minutes of laying her eyes on her target, the building was nothing but a mass of stone and wood and plaster. When the dust cleared, Natasha could see battered bits of furniture and the bloody parts of people crushed by the building.

Natasha got out of the vehicle that she had been in and walked over to the rubble of the building. She had to make sure her target had died.

As she walked over the uneven bits of stone and shattered wood, she monitored the people beneath her feet, hoping to find her target sooner rather than later. She didn’t want to deal with law enforcement or curious onlookers, nor did she want to continuously look at the empty eyes of the innocent people she had killed.

Whenever she came across someone that was still moving or breathing, she slit their throats. Clean and easy. They would be dead long before any rescue teams were able to extract them, anyway. It was best for them to die from a simple cut to the throat than having to suffer through being crushed by slabs of stone.

As she looked over the bodies, she found an arm poking out from underneath a layer of dust. At first, it looked just like the other dozen arms she had seen, but the bracelet on the wrist caught her eye. A very familiar bracelet, one that she had seen hundreds of times. One that her former wife had worn ever since she had gifted it to her on their second date.

Natasha’s heart beat quickened in her chest as panic coursed through her veins.

It wasn’t you, she reassured herself. You weren’t in Europe. You weren’t in France. You weren’t in Paris. And you definitely weren’t in this one particular building. She hadn’t hurt you. She hadn’t killed you.

She should have moved on, but she couldn’t help the little nagging part of her brain that told her she wouldn’t rest easy until she knew it wasn’t you. She slowly crouched down and ever-so-carefully reached forward and pushed the dust off the body, pushing away what little debris had landed on it. When she saw the ring on the person’s other hand, she froze.

It wasn’t your wedding ring, but it was one of your favorite pieces of jewelry. Along your wedding and engagement ring, you never left the house without it on. You didn’t feel fully dressed unless it was on your finger.

Natasha squeezed her eyes closed and forced deep breaths into her lungs.

It wasn’t you. There was no way it was you.

Police sires sounded in the background, and Natasha opened her eyes. She had to keep going. She had to make sure that it wasn’t you so that she could move on, secure that the target had been dispatched, and get out of the country before the police could even suspect foul play.

With a shaky hand, Natasha reached out to the person’s face. Gently, Natasha brushed aside the dust and felt herself go hollow.

There, beneath her hand, was your face. Your eyes were half-open and cloudy, your lips stuck open in an expression of fear and horror. Blood poured out from a large gash in your skull, partially concealed by your full head of hair. Hair which you had dyed and cut short since she had last seen you.

Natasha shook as a sob fell out of her.

Tears clouded her vision. The rubble beneath her dug into her knees as she fell out of her crouch, and the sirens blared louder, but to her, the real world didn’t exist. Nothing did.

All she felt was the white-hot nausea that rolled through her body and the guilt and regret that filled her to the brim. The sheer, unbridled horror that overtook her every sense as she saw you laying there, dead, blood pouring out of your uncountable amount of wounds.

She placed her hand on your forehead and choked when she felt your warm skin. If she allowed herself to suspend her belief, she could almost imagine that you were alive.

But she couldn’t.

No alive person lost that much blood. No alive person had their eyes clouded over. No alive person didn’t breathe.

The sirens got louder and louder until the police cars were right next to the rubble. A police officer got out of their vehicle and looked to her, calling out, asking if she was injured and needed help.

Natasha didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure she would ever be able to speak again. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself. She would never be able to breathe or talk or exist without feeling the overwhelming, suffocating weight that squeezed her to the point where she was breathless.

The police officer stepped onto the remnants of the building, the dust and stone crunching beneath their feet.

Natasha had to go. She couldn’t stay there. She couldn’t be brought in for questioning or as a witness. Really, she shouldn’t be there at all. Her being sighted was enough to get a firm reprimand from SHIELD. She didn’t want to know what they would do if she turned into a suspect of the bombing.

Despite every part of her that told her to stay, to lay herself over your body and let herself die of dehydration, she got up.

She gathered as much strength as she could and whispered a goodbye, hoping that whoever found you would give you a proper burial. She hoped that you had people who would miss you and would mourn you properly. She took in a shaking breath, wiped away her tears, and walked away.

She ignored the shouts of the police officers and the paramedics that had just arrived. She kept going, kept walking and pushing her body to keep going. Soon enough, she disappeared into the vast cityscape.

She was alive and she was free to go back to America, but you were not, all because of her.

#natasha romanoff #marvel #avengers #natasha romanoff x reader #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic

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upon-a-starry-night · 1 month

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Number neighbors Pt.28

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

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You wouldn’t describe yourself as someone who was regularly paranoid, but recently you've been more than a little on edge. You’d given the man at the market the benefit of the doubt, chalking his appearance up to going to the marketplace when the weather was the most reasonable- like you’d been doing, but that doesn’t explain the Suvs.

You don’t know how long they’ve been following you for, you’d been so stuck in your own world that you’d barely been paying attention to your surroundings but after Saturday you’ve been more cautious of your surroundings and that’s when you noticed the black Suv.

You don’t know if it’s the same one every time, they’ve always kept a far enough distance and you haven't been able to catch a license plate but they appear every so often when you go out. The windows are tinted far too dark to be legal so you can’t see inside but you occasionally find them parked outside of buildings you frequent and it’s starting to worry you.

You don’t want to worry your friends or your mom who would buy a ticket out there first thing though, so you keep to yourself and try to keep a distance from the cars and the marketplace (it’s a devastating loss to not have Gladys’ pastries on hand)

On top of that, everyone has been on edge because of the disappearance of most of the Avengers. As far as you know, Stark, Clint, Banner, and that Spider kid are the only ones still in New York which has civilians asking questions about where the others are and why they left.

The anxiety from the lack of heroes has everyone grilling the government for answers, especially considering the fact that the crime rate has gone up just from petty criminals getting too cocky. Due to the constant heat The government has been under, they stated that they’ll issue a public service announcement in a week to explain the situation and you can practically feel the country buzzing with anticipation.

The situation makes you think of Nat and you wonder if her “not FBI job” has something to do with this and is the reason why she’s disappeared. You hope she knows wherever she is that you would’ve understood if she’d just explained the situation to you- but maybe she couldn’t. Maybe she was under some kind of NDA that could put her in danger.

Despite avoiding the marketplace you still get the feeling that you’re being watched and it makes you uneasy. You feel like you’re hallucinating with how often you see shadows moving somewhere nearby. You’re never able to catch a glimpse of anyone who might resemble the market man but the fear is enough to have you staying a few nights at your friend's house.

The Suv’s don’t appear for a while after the move and it allows you a small moment of reprieve. You push the lingering feeling of constant observance to the back of your mind despite your brain telling you to be on guard.

The stress of the situation is so tremendous you don’t even realize you’ve been forgetting to leave voicemails for Nat until your mom calls asking why you haven’t called her in a while. You don’t bring up the stalkers to avoid giving her a heart attack but you do tell her about the amount of stress you’ve been under and the toll it’s been taking on you.

It feels so good to talk about it that you don’t even realize you’re crying until your mother's concerned voice is comforting you through the speaker. God, it was like the universe couldn’t give you a break lately. You hope whatever they’re putting you through all of this for is worth it.

“Come home for a while, Y/n. it sounds like you need a break, I’ll take care of you.” The dismissal of her offer is on the tip of your tongue but the more you mull it over the more you think it might be a good idea. With the city on edge, the growing crime rate, and your new potential stalkers, getting away from the city is probably the best thing you could do right now.

Much to your mother's surprise, you agree and her excitement at having you come home has you smiling on your end of the receiver. The two of you spend the next hour looking for an affordable last minute and you find a plane that leaves in two days that the two of you agree on. It’s probably not nearly enough appropriate notice for time off but your boss agrees anyway and within the hour you’ve got plans to spend a week at your mother's out of town.

It’s the first vacation you’ve taken in a while and even if it was just going home you find yourself more excited than you’d been in at least a month. You hadn’t been this excited since-

Nat. You hadn’t been this excited since you were supposed to meet Nat.

It probably didn’t matter to her that you were going out of town, it wasn’t like she was getting your voicemails anyway but- what if she showed up while you were gone? You shake your head, the possibility of that was slim to none and if she did come back while you were gone she’d just have to wait like she’d made you wait.

Still, she deserved to know about the kid on the skateboard you watched run into a pole earlier today, at least. You listen for the tale-tell sound of the beep after the long too-familiar ringing and you find yourself subconsciously smiling as you tell her random snippets from your week.

The breakfast your friend treated you to, the new show you started, the fair that got canceled due to raccoons breaking in to eat all the cotton candy. You avoid talking about the stalkers like you’d done with everyone else but you frown when the news channel starts covering another attempted bank robbery.

Despite your own safety being in jeopardy you can’t help but worry for her wherever she may be, causing you to voice the thought, the humor in your tone replaced with a solemn resolve

“wherever you are… I hope you’re safe.” You shake your head, attempting to clear your mind from the restless thoughts in your mind “Anyway, sorry I know that was a lot- all that to say I miss you and I love you. Bye!”

You don’t even realize what you’ve said until 10 seconds later and you frantically press whichever number was supposed to delete the message.

Shit.

It was such a force of habit to end your phone calls with an I love you. You can’t believe you almost confessed to Nat over the phone. Moreover, you’re freaked out by how much the words didn’t feel like a lie. If you were honest you’d been avoiding putting a label on your emotions because you were scared of how serious they were getting but apparently your brain had already decided for you.

Love.

You loved Nat.

You Love Nat.

Fuck.

Your mind reels with the newfound discovery and you’re grateful you deleted the message before it would be stuck in her voicemail for her to one day hear. Your head's a mess as you set your phone down on the counter and go to pack up your stuff, you had a trip to get ready for and a relationship to overanalyze to try and pinpoint when you and Nat had gone from total strangers to you being in love with her.

It all made sense now, the heartache, the worrying, the underlying tension between the two of you

It was just your luck that you’d discover you love her when you can’t even tell her. You’re so in your head with your emotions and figuring out what to pack that you don’t even register the sound of your phone’s female electronic voice as it declares

“Voicemail sent”

Pt.29

A/n: Classic mistake, Y/n, I’m sure everyone’s done that! Don’t worry it’s not like she can hear your voicemails or anything…or uhhh ~ Starry

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