Missing In Action

The way she said sever the nerve rhymed w the music 😩

lord the sexiest scene i’ve ever seen in my whole life

Learning (To Trust Your Touch)

Taglist: @lynxwhispurrs

Summary: When an unexpected touch brings a realization to light, Natasha does everything to show her favorite person that it's real.

A/N: This was inspired by @missmonsters2's "Words Beneath Your Skin', a beautiful piece of art I"m not worthy of with my touch starved ass. I wanted to add my own little spin to it using my favorite assassin :3 Thank you again for giving me permission to do this <3

Warning: Open ended quote that might be interpreted as abuse. I'm not for sure, but just to be safe.

Natasha noticed.

To be fair, she is a assassin turned avenger. She notices a lot of things.

Natasha spent lifetimes learning about the human body. Where to break, where to shed blood most, vital areas that deliver poison faster than others….the list can go on.

She saw it when you visited her room. A part of the problem.

You were still new, not to the team, but to the compound. And even though everyone was mostly in and out on missions, your presence was very welcome to many.

Especially to a certain feline.

Liho was never one to welcome strangers, but your small peace offering of expensive canned tuna definitely made an impression.

Soon enough, you began to feed Liho, and her owner. Leaving small meals for both of them to find, and to keep finding you to ask for more.

You become both their favorites. And being a favorite of Natasha did allow certain perks.

“Found those limited edition chips you wanted.”

“Your shoelaces are untied,”

“Wanna go shopping?”

“I restocked the snack drawer and charged your computer.”

She pays attention as you start to settle into your new room. How you grab small snacks instead of sitting at a dinner table with the others, how you wrap yourself in a blanket when you’re in an empty living room. What snack you like best after a training session.

They’re small things, and to her credit, she was really just trying to say thank you for feeding them both. Thank you quickly turned into dates you thoroughly enjoyed.

It’s how you ended up in her room for the first time.

“I bought a few too many snacks at the store,” was the best excuse she could come up with, and she thanks whatever god there is that you bought it with that smile of yours.

Natasha’s room was interesting, simplicity mixed with sparks of modern and rustic all in one. Splashes of red and white mixed with shades of black.

“It’s pretty,”

Natasha gives you the smallest of smiles, genuine and true. “Thank you.”

Her bed is even softer. The mattress invites you, and you immediately burrow into the blankets like it’s second nature.

Meow

Liho follows suit after you open up your bag of potato chips and nestles in a spot close to you, and that night black tail swaying in pure bliss.

Then it happens.

Natasha looks at you, green eyes spotting remnants of chips resting against the corner of your lips. It doesn’t bother her, quite the contrary, you look absolutely adorable.

She brings it to your attention with a small chuckle, and hovers a finger over her face to point out the crumbs. Your focus on the movie, and perhaps looking a little too much at Natasha’s eyes and not her cue for you to wipe your face makes you brush away the opposite cheek.

A laugh escapes, and you wonder what’s so funny before she takes action herself.

Then she sees something.

How your eyes widened when you felt it. Hearing your heartbeat damn near thump out of your chest. Seeing the muscles tense up at the exact spot where the assassins hand brushes against your cheek. Feeling your face heat up at the intention, or even the very contact itself.

It’s how Natasha has her epiphany.

That you weren’t comfortable.

-

No childhood was ever really perfect, but coming to the root of it…was it really even normal?

Sure, your parents maybe made a few mistakes, but they gave you something, they gave you life. That’s probably the best gift they could give you. You didn’t need affection.

Right?

The memory of last night comes, how she…did that. Touched you. Lingering for only a few moments to the point where you thought you saw trees in those forest eyes of hers.

You look away from it, and she retracts, eyes quickly turning apologetic before you excuse yourself..

God…gardening was supposed to relax you. Not reminding you of the memory of a touch setting you off.

You gingerly touch the potting soil you laid out, placing a little in your hands and gauging the rich dirt. It’s not like grass, rooted to the ground. It’s flexible, vulnerable and-

Meow?

“Liho?”

You dust your hands off, and allow them to hover over the feline. You feel like a ghost, so close to her, but yet-

“Your momma must be mad at me, hm?”

Meow

“I know…not the smartest move to avoid her.” You allow your fingertips to ghost over the fur slowly. “I just…”

Liho makes an effort to listen. To stay as a friend, as a ear to listen.

“I don’t know.”

It’s an honest answer. One that makes Natasha’s heart break a little inside as she waits for you to finish your session with Liho.

She thinks about it for a moment, as she makes her presence known after you stop talking. A small wave and a soft “Hello” before she scoops liho in her arms and away from you.

The words slip out before you can think.

“Please…wait.”

Natasha stands still, liho jumping out of her arms in an instant and running back to your side. Natasha looks to the empty spot next to you in the green house, and when she looks at you this time, it’s different.

You see her ask. Green eyes waiting, despite everything inside her wanting to embrace and comfort you, for permission to get close to you.

You nod, and it’s the best decision you made today when you see her get comfortable on the ground.

“I’m sorry.” She starts. “I never meant to make you feel like I was going to hurt you. I would never hurt you.”

She feels like it’s her fault. For making you like this, so scared of this, of-

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Her eyebrows knit together, and she frowns as Liho makes her way to the redhead and nuzzles her thigh.

“What happened yesterday? Did I make you feel uncomfortable?”

You place your hands on your lap, the texture of your blue jeans giving some imitation of stimulation. The feeling is awkward and does little to ease your nerves, it’s baffling that jeans don’t have any other purpose than being expensive, but Natasha’s hand makes you stop.

Her hand is right in front of you. The early afternoon sunshine rests on her palm, extending towards you. She makes a conscious effort not to touch any part of your body, no matter what this urge is consuming her from the inside out.

Natasha only looks at you, and keeps her hand extended.

It’s another question.

I want to understand…please talk to me.

You take her hand, and allow your fingers to trace the lines on her palm before taking another step to full on hand-holding.

“It’s not you.” You shake your head. “Never you.”

She’s relieved, and quietly thanks a god as she looks at you. As she searches for those answers with you.

“I just…it felt so…different.”

She quirks an eyebrow at that. Before gently squeezing your hand. “Different how?”

“It felt…” You bit your lower lip in thought.

So soft, and gentle…how the warmth of her fingers rested on your cheek, her thumb swiping away the crumbs, how you felt so safe keeping eye contact with her when those few seconds felt like an eternity.

It felt like you wanted so much more of it. That..that touch.

But it’s wrong, in your mind.

It’s wrong to yourself to yearn for that feeling, to want it and to never let it go. To cherish its warmth like a fire on a cold winters day.

You find yourself not answering it. That feeling that keeps yelling at you to indulge in it.

“It felt so…new.” You explained. “Like it wasn’t going to leave. Like it was safe.”

Natasha nods. “Did it ever feel safe before?”

She waits for your answer, and feels the warmth of your hand slip away from her.

“Not everyone is like you,” You whisper. “Not everyone is good.”

She gets it.

-

Natasha never felt like this.

So determined, so hellbent on showing you something you’ve been denied for so long.

Take it slow, she reminds herself.

Natasha starts small. Hand and eye contact. A good start.

You see her extend her hand like she’s did in the green house during breakfast oneway, her forest orbs looking at you with that question.

Do you want this? It's okay if you don't.

Your decision is like that game show with the music for the final question. You’re over and under-thinking, worrying and doubting.

But she stays still and true.

You take her hand as many times as she extends it, and every decision getting just a little shorter than the last. She sees you start to intertwine your fingers with hers eventually, and the eye contact remains through it all.

You find yourself looking at her eyes so much. Sometimes it’s to check if she changed her mind, or if you did something wrong. But she brings you back with those green eyes of hers, an affirmation that it’s okay.

You're safe with me

She builds a foundation this way. Natasha slowly starts to stay a little longer by your side, she finds you starting to look for that feeling. She builds from hand holding, to sparring together, and from that, hugging.

She loves it when she gets to hug you.

The feeling of safety always washes over you when she wraps her arms around you, like she doesn’t want to let go. The subtle squeeze she gives you proved her point when Bucky called her out on it.

She didn’t want to let go. She never does.

Natasha slowly and consistently continues to build that foundation, and takes it at your pace. She’s patient, and attentive.

It gets longer, the contact.

You start to hold Liho for longer periods of time as Natasha sits next to you when you watch movies. Your fingers grazing over her fur as the assassin watches with adoration.

Hugs quickly became late night cuddling, and god it was heaven for you both.

You allowed yourself to initiate small touches. Brief hugs with the team as a greeting whenever in passing, high fives when Bucky says something funny at lunch, actually going to lunch instead of hiding in your room.

You became a permanent guest at Natasha’s bed, and you began sitting a tiny bit closer to her every time. Sometimes you’d lay on her lap as she braided your hair, others would be more comfortable sitting positions if anything else.

She sees a shift of sorts when you’re in bed with her one night.

The television show was long forgotten about ten minutes into the series, and she sees your crinkled brow under the covers. You’re not frustrated, far from it actually, and she’s relieved when she hears your heartbeat is steady.

Your body moves on its own accord. Gently shifting your position to sit up. Natasha immediately locks eyes with you, and turns down the volume with her other hand.

“Can you hold me?”

Her answer is a smile, and her eyes softening before meeting your own.

"May I?' She asks.

You give a nod, before she adjusts herself. Her movements aren’t as quick as her reflexes, she gives you the opportunity to see everything she’s doing, and the power to stop this.

You feel her hands brush against your sleep shirt, the warmth leaving as soon as it came. Her movements stop, as she gives you a moment to take in the result of her ministrations.

She’s under you, so many strands of red hair you try not count splayed all over her pillows, her hands hovering over the small of your back. Her eyes never leaving yours for a second.

“Is this-“

Her breath hitches when you take the initiative. Your hands find hers like your life depends on it, and she feels your body relax under her when you find the missing piece.

You see her look at you, and there’s something different about her.

You're beautiful

You both move in sync, you reach down as she rises to connect your foreheads together.

“How does this feel?”

Natasha’s voice is a mere whisper in the dimly illuminated room. Her raspy tone is prominent, calming, and intoxicating all at the same time. Hands ghost against your waist, holding you steady.

You lean in closer, your lips inches apart from hers.

“It feels like you..”

It does, everything feels like Natasha. From the way she holds you, to how she’s kissing you right now in this moment.

Her lips are velvet against yours, full of devotion, and adoration just for you. You take it all in, you feel it all in the kiss, and it’s euphoric.

It feels so…good, and warm, and soft and safe.

And you never want it to stop feeling this way.

You both pull away, and Natasha gives you a different smile, one that’s like the sun.

“It’s real…” she whispers incredulously. “This is real.”

“It is.” You whisper

It truly is.

You both find each other’s hands, and press your foreheads together.

Natasha squeezes, ever so softly.

“It’s always real when I’m with you”

Timebomb

Adoptive Mom!Natasha Romanoff x Child!Reader + Avengers

Word Count: 5.3K

A/N: A kid!reader develops powers after being attacked in New York. The Avengers have to decide what to do with them.

Also part of a March Madness event run by @missmonsters2 This is loosely based on Matilda. :)

You’d had a life. A whole life, with parents who loved you and an apartment that you called home. That’s what you liked to imagine anyway. It didn’t matter. Whatever it was, it was over now.

Aliens had attacked New York. You didn’t remember your family, but they’d been collateral damage. You didn’t remember the apartment, but you’d seen the blasted brick and mortar of where it might have been.

Your first memory was a light. Blue until it touched your skin. You’d glowed golden for a minute, felt an uncomfortable warmth trickle underneath your skin. You hadn’t been sure if you were alive or dead.

You’d been scared, but, in truth, it had been over quickly.

When they found you, lying in the rubble, you hadn’t been human anymore.

Before that, you’d been just like everyone else; running for your life. Then a blast from Loki’s scepter had caught you in the chest.

A police officer had found you first. He’d run towards you with the steady diligence of an emergency responder in the middle of an unthinkable emergency.

His hand had touched your shoulder and, just like that, you’d gone off like a bomb.

The next person to come close, did not touch you.

You’d woken from your own explosion to see several figures emerging from the clouds of dust. Every one of them had a gun. Every gun was trained on you. Every breath stung as you inhaled fragments of the rubble around you.

You tried desperately to remember who you were, but all you could think of was your fear. There was a low thrum of constant pain around your chest. You brought your hands to your ribs instinctively, recoiling at the instant rush of pain.

You tried not to look at the guns. You tried not to think about the cold determination of those holding them. You tried, instead, to listen to the one woman who was speaking.

Clear and direct. You cried as you complied with her instructions. You knew that you wanted your parents, but you didn’t remember who they were.

You were directed into the back of a black van. Panic flooded your chest as you sat on the metal bench bolted to the floor. Your feet did not reach the ground.

You tried to look at the faces of the people pointing the guns. Each was obscured by a black gasmask. The van tasted like dread. You felt sure now that you were going to be killed or tortured.

Hot panic rose in your chest when the van doors slammed shut. Your eyes darted between the strangers in gas masks and the small hatch just across from you.

You watched as slow plumes of white smoke began to seep through the hatch. You couldn’t catch your breath. The gas tasted sweet on your tongue. The pain in your ribs faded as you lost consciousness.

—--------------

When you next woke up, you were strapped to a hospital bed. Tears sprung to your eyes as the disorientation returned. All you knew for certain was that you were alone.

The restraints on your wrists were heavy. You felt painfully explosed.

You were not alone in the hospital room. There were two others.

Somehow, you knew this before you looked over.

The two strangers’ emotions seeped into your mind unbidden.

You looked over to the far side of the room.

There was a tall woman with dark hair standing by the door. A tight pitying feeling curled in your chest. You realised that it was coming from her. You didn’t like the sensation.

There was also a man, sitting in the chair opposite you. He wore an eye patch and stupidly you thought first of a pirate. You watched his one eye warily. His emotions were colder, closely held and calculating. But, there was also something greedy there.

Fear spiked inside you. You didn’t trust this man. You didn’t understand how you could sense his feelings, but you were sure that your instinct was right.

The extra sense you’d developed whilst you were unconscious was brand new, but it felt undeniably strong.

As you processed these radiating emotions, you became more aware of your surroundings.

There was a low hum coming from the floor below you. It sounded like engines, but that didn’t make sense. You didn’t feel like you were moving. You glanced out the window. There was only blue sky and clouds.

You weren’t in New York anymore. The panic you felt was phantom. You couldn’t remember why New York was your home.

‘How old are you?’ The man asked you gruffly. You opened your mouth, coughing automatically to try and clear your throat. Your mouth still tasted like the dust and rubble.

‘I don’t know.’ You told him. ‘I don’t know anything.’ Tears began to run down your cheeks. The man’s expression didn’t change and you felt his clear distrust. You wondered if he was going to kill you.

Your eyes darted to the woman in the corner. Her expression was neutral. A careful calmness covered her earlier pity.

‘Three people died in the explosion you caused.’ The woman informed you in a cool tone. You recognised her voice with a jolt. It was the only voice in the world that you knew how to recognise. This was the one woman who had pointed a gun at you. Somehow, the familiarity reassured you.

She hadn’t killed you before.

‘I didn’t mean to. I swear, I didn’t mean to’ You told them, and your chest heaved with a shaky sob. ‘I was running and I got hit.’

‘Hit by what?’ The man asked you bluntly. You scrambled uselessly as you tried to sit up more in the bed. The restraints kept you in place.

‘There was this blue light.’ You mumbled, feeling stupid and useless with your explanation. ‘And then everything was yellow, and it knocked me over. I don’t remember anything before that.’

The man assessed you silently and you tried to control your breathing. You were too scared to look at him. You glanced nervously up at the woman every few seconds. You imagined that her eyes had softened, but you weren’t sure. It was hard to untangle anyone else’s emotions, not when your own had become so overwhelming.

The silence was oppressive, and then it was gone.

The only door to your room slammed open and you startled once more against the restraints. Four men and one woman entered the room. Your eyes trailed each one in turn. They all looked dirty, scraped and exhausted. You sensed that they felt the same too.

You only recognised the man who spoke first.

‘Thor’s keeping an eye on the Wicked Witch of the West.’ Tony Stark announced casually. ‘The rest of us were free to answer your summons.’

You stared down at the white hospital bed sheets, feeling strange shame as the group turned their attention to you.

‘Care to explain why there’s a kid in handcuffs?’ Tony Stark asked again, a fresh kind of steel in his voice. You couldn’t tell if the distrust he was radiating was aimed at you.

‘I thought Shield didn’t recruit kids.’ A blonde man murmured. His quiet pity seemed out of place.

‘They don’t.’ The woman answered quietly. ‘Or, they didn’t.’

You looked up at her voice. Despite her softer tone, her emotions were the strongest that you could sense.

Her eyes caught yours and you could feel the overwhelming concern that was hidden within them.

Other than that, her casual expression betrayed nothing.

You realised abruptly that she was scanning your face too. Nervousness forced you to look back down at the bedspread.

The eye-patch man started talking evenly. He described you as infected by the powers of someone called ‘Loki’. The dark haired woman picked up the conversation, with a succinct description of the explosion you had caused.

You started crying silently. You were painfully aware of growing distrust from everyone in the room. You didn’t feel human anymore.

Your wrists tugged instinctively once more against the handcuffs and this time they clanked. The room became brittle with tension.

‘How can we keep her contained?’ A third man asked seriously, adjusting his glasses.

‘Some of our own precautions for your green friend could become useful, Dr. Banner.’ The eyepatch man noted wryly.

You had seen the green monster rampaging on the city’s streets. Your mouth went dry. You couldn’t imagine the methods that were used to keep it under control.

‘Is that enough?’ The blonde man asked. Quiet concern emanated from him. ‘How many civilians are we putting in danger?’

‘Are we all seeing the same kid?’ The red-headed woman commented neutrally. Her words seemed passive, but you felt a strong kick of protectiveness from her.

You exhaled shakily, desperately clinging to the safety that her emotions brought you,

‘Red, I nearly died sending all the other aliens into space.’ Tony Stark noted, his anxiety clear enough in his voice. ‘You want me to keep this one as a pet?’

An unspeakable rage flitted out from the woman. Somehow, her voice stayed even.

‘Not a pet, Tony.’ She corrected in the same neutral tone. ‘A child.’

Tony rolled his eyes.

‘Or a timebomb.’ The man with the glasses countered. You could tell that he trusted you least of all.

The man who hadn’t spoken at all yet cleared his throat. His face was the most grimy, but his blue eyes were piercing.

‘Tasha’s right.’ He said simply. ‘That’s a scared kid.’

‘Please don’t kill me.’ You whispered at last, eyes darting to the man with the eyepatch who seemed to be the one making the decision.

Like before, your words had no impact on his cold emotions.

‘You don’t remember your parents?’ He checked directly.

You shook your head. You wished that you could wrap your arms around yourself. You didn’t remember them, but you felt their loss in your gut.

‘Stark Tower.’ The man determined suddenly.

Tony Stark opened his mouth to argue But, the eyepatch man continued.

‘It’s got the security and the surveillance capabilities. But it’s not a prison.’ He explained, eyeing the red-haired woman pointedly.

There were protests and debates that happened after that. The whole group left your hospital room still arguing between themselves.

But, from that moment, your future had been determined.

—---------------

Stark Tower was impressive. You felt more scared with every step you took. Curious eyes watched you from all directions. You were hard to ignore with your security detail.

You walked alongside the eyepatch man, now known to you as ‘Director Fury.’ You had to half-run to keep up with him. Agent Hill walked directly behind you.

To anyone else, the escort would have looked unusually protective. You hated yourself for the danger you were inflicting by being near others.

As you all stood together in the elevator. Director Fury told you about the Simulated Home Environment. The building’s AI would constantly monitor you, following detailed instructions given by Tony Stark.

You would be allowed a semblance of a home life. Any actions outwith the enforced rules would result in a different containment method.

Maybe he caught your confused look.

‘Behave.’ He intoned at last, and you nodded nervously.

The elevator doors opened at last.

Tony Stark and a professional looking woman with light auburn hair were waiting.

‘Didn’t blow up the building then.’ Tony noted dryly as you stepped into the living room space. Wealth dripped from every furnishing in the room.

The woman shot him a reprimanding look, before turning to you with a polite smile. Her expensive suit was undermined by the careful kindness that radiated from her. She extended her hand.

‘Nice to meet you.’ She said clearly. ‘I’m Pepper Potts.’

You took her hand shyly, it was the first normal contact you could remember. It calmed the skin crawling feeling of your touch starved existence. You pretended not to feel the spike of distrust from Tony at your touch.

‘I run Stark Industries, and I live here too.’ She supplied, confirming the relationship between her and Tony.

‘Nice to meet you.’ You whispered, scared now of ever making too much noise. Everyone had warned you not to cause damage, but no one had told you how to avoid it.

Whatever powers you’d been given. They were as unknown to you as they were to anyone else.

Despite her kindness, Pepper looked slightly relieved as she let go of your hand.

‘Jarvis.’ Tony called out suddenly, and you heard an answering voice from above.

‘Good evening (Y/N).’ A British voice intoned from the ceiling.

You jumped sharply at the unexpected noise and, in response, a deathly tension filled the room. Everyone’s eyes were on you.

‘I’m fine.’ You mumbled embarrassedly.

‘Keep it that way.’ Fury warned you in a low voice.

‘I’ll leave you to play Happy Families.’ He addressed Tony and Pepper, before reentering the waiting elevator with Agent Hill.

All you were left with was nerves. You tried to pretend that there wasn’t hope mixed in as well.

‘Dinner?’ Pepper suggested with forced lightness.

You nodded. A primal, desperate wish for family made it hard to breathe.

As you walked forward, Pepper’s hand moved automatically to touch your shoulder. She pulled back at the last moment. You pretended not to notice.

Tony seemed the most brooding as you ate together in silence. You worked through a plate of salmon, greens and rice even though you weren’t hungry.

You drank your water, unable to lose an aching thirst at the back of your throat.

Pepper and Tony both scrolled on StarkPads as they ate robotically. You wondered if they were always like this, or it was their attempt to ignore the tension.

The prickling thirst in the back of your throat made you desperate to cough. You fought the impulse, not wanting to make any sound. You knew they’d both startle if you did. You hated how easily you scared people. You hated being so unwanted.

When you offered to rinse the dishes and load the dishwasher, Pepper acquiesced unsurely.

They both moved over to the open plan living room space. You didn’t need to see their worried glances to know they didn’t trust you around knives.

The unrelenting feeling of thirst was almost entirely distracting.

You tried to focus on your task. Any little thing to pretend at being normal felt good.

You wondered if it was moments like this that Agent Romanoff had been advocating for when she’d spoken up for you in the hospital room. You tried to decide if this was what family meant.

Just as you finished the chore, you heard a clinking sound from behind you. At the same time, your feeling of thirst began to abate.

You turned slowly, savouring the silent relief you felt.

Tony was standing by the window, staring out as he drank a large whisky with ice. Pepper was sitting on the sofa, talking with quiet purpose into her phone.

Every sip Tony took, lessened the feeling of thirst for you. It scared you to think that his thirst was so strong.

Tony turned back to you. He watched you with a look of mild distaste.

Suddenly, you thought back to his comment about having a pet. You wondered if that’s why his stare made you feel so small.

‘Come on.’ He announced at last as she drained his glass. ‘I’ll show you your room.’

Despite leading you forward, he kept you carefully in his sight.

You kept your eyes trained to the floor.

It felt stupid to be scared, when you were the dangerous one.

Tony pushed open the door to your room.

It was clean, fresh and dripping with the same wealth as the rest of the penthouse.

The walls were a steely kind of grey. They reminded you immediately of the reinforced Shield ones. With a jolt, you realised that they were made of the same material.

You blinked back tears of shame.

You’d had nightmares in the hospital. You’d heard the nurses talking about how you’d glowed red when you dreamed.

You felt like a freak.

‘The door will be locked automatically by Jarvis when you go to sleep’ Tony informed you tersely. Just being alone with you had made his anxiety spiked noticeably. His thirst was rising again. His emotions undercut any facade of nonchalance.

You nodded.

‘It’s getting late.’ Tony added, and you felt his rising anticipation to be away from you.

You pretended that what he said was true.

‘I’m quite tired.’ You lied, watching Tony’s expression relax with relief.

‘Night, kid.’ He muttered as he shut the door behind him.

You went to sit on the large bed. It was comfortable, but the coral pink sheets clashed ridiculously with the rest of the room.

You took off your shoes and paused unsurely as you scanned the room. You hurried over to the chest of drawers in the corner, opening the drawers until you found one filled with pyjamas.

You changed robotically. A new listlessness distracted you.

Tony’s dismissal had thrown you. Despite the awkward tension in the living room, it had been more social interaction than you could ever remember having.

You were sick of feeling so isolated. You were sick of being so completely alone.

More than anything though, you knew you didn’t want to sleep.

You could hear screams in your nightmares sometimes. The last second of life for the people you’d killed.

You thought a lot about the families that you’d ripped a hole into. You worried that you were spreading pain, like some diseased consequence of Loki’s weapon.

No one missed you though.

Agent Hill had been factual when you’d finally got the courage to ask. No family members were looking for you. They must have died too.

Or. A little voice whispered in your head. Or no-one’s ever wanted you.

You hugged your legs as you sat back on your new bed. It was the closest you could get to a hug. You pretended that you weren’t crying, but you didn’t know how to stop.

You could hear Pepper laughing in the other room. She sounded relaxed, relieved. It felt lonelier being this close to happiness, knowing it could only happen when you weren’t there.

‘Will you be sleeping soon Y/N?’ The disembodied voice of Jarvis, spoke again into the room. You stared unsurely upwards, trying and failing to see any marker of where the voice originated.

‘No.’ You breathed your answer, worried that your response might be breaking the rules that Fury had warned you about.

‘May I suggest a book?’ Jarvis offered. His voice was polite, inherently friendly. Even without emotions for you to read, it was easy to trust him.

You walked obediently to the bookshelf in the corner and picked up the first book you saw.

The book was dry, but it was better than nothing. At the hospital, there’d been nothing to occupy you at all.

You fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, too tired for even the screams.

—------------------

Jarvis opened the blinds in the room at exactly 7 am.

Your eyes screwed tight shut at the brightness. It did no good, you were awake.

Your head pounded with sleep deprivation as you got ready, before heading through to the kitchen.

Pepper was sitting at the table, wearing a white skirt suit. She was sipping coffee from an oversized flask.

Her attention snapped to you as you walked through the door.

‘There you are.’ She said politely, and you were surprised by the feeling of stress that she was hiding. ‘I was hoping you’d be up soon. What can I get you for breakfast?’

Pepper’s smile was welcoming, but you caught the way she glanced at her watch.

‘It’s okay.’ You mumbled, feeling awful as you realised that she was running late on your behalf. ‘I can make my own.’

Pepper hesitated.

‘Are you sure?’ She checked, and like with Tony the night before, you could sense her anticipation to leave.

You nodded, trying to seem confident.

Pepper nodded once before leaving. Like yesterday, you watched her half-hesitate about touching your shoulder.

Instead, she picked up her StarkPad and gave you a small wave.

‘Have a good day. Tony’ll be around for lunch’ She said with another polite smile, before the elevator doors closed.

Alone in the penthouse for the first time felt both scary and exciting. You should have expected Jarvis’ immediate interruption.

‘Babysitter protocol has been activated.’ He informed you.

‘Great.’ You said with a friendly smile toward the ceiling. Jarvis wasn’t real, but at least you weren’t completely on your own.

Patiently, Jarvis walked you step by step through a pancake recipe. It was nearly an hour until you’d progressed far enough to eat anything. Still, you couldn’t stop the proud grin when you found out the pancakes were edible.

‘Thanks Jarvis.’ You called out shyly. The ridiculousness of talking to the ceiling was quickly being overwritten by the thrill of talking to someone.

‘Of course.’ He responded succinctly.

It felt good to have someone to talk to. It didn’t let up the skin crawling feeling, but it helped. When Jarvis suggested that you watch some television, you agreed obediently. Easily distracted, you found yourself asking the AI questions as you watched

Jarvis told you the history of every artefact that you pointed out from the movie about a Night At The Museum.

Secretly, you wished more than anything that Jarvis was real. He sensed your need to keep talking, even when you ran out of questions.

He told you stories about earlier versions of himself. The funny glitches that had been patched over the years.

The only painful moment had come after you’d asked about the best museums in New York.

There had been a slight pause before Jarvis had answered.

‘You’re not permitted to leave the apartment without Mr. Stark or Director Fury.’ He answered clearly.

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. It was hard not to feel like a prisoner sometimes. You stared out the floor-length windows. You wished that you could remember fresh air, without the taste of rubble or debris.

A new idea hit you as the end credits played on the TV screen.

If Tony was your best chance at going outside, you had to get him to like you.

Agent Romanoff’s words about being a pet, struck you again. It didn’t seem so bad to you now. Even dogs were allowed fresh air.

Getting to your feet, you checked the time. It was nearly lunch. You asked Jarvis what Tony’s favourite meal was.

—---

When Tony arrived at 2pm, you were as prepared as you could be. A whiskey coke and a burger were sitting ready on the counter.

Tony walked over to the counter and observed the food. He made no move to sit down on one of the stools. His heightened distrust told you exactly what he was thinking.

‘Where did that come from?’ He said in a voice that was more accusation than question. Before you could speak, Jarvis cut in.

‘I have monitored and instructed Y/N.’ He informed Tony matter of factly. You flushed, sure you could hear an element of pride in the AI’s voice.

Tony sniffed the glass and you felt the same choking thirst as you had last night as he smelled the whiskey.

The tension in the room eased as he took a sip. He nodded and you fought a smile.

Tony downed the glass efficiently. Then, he lifted the burger bun slightly, examining the meal with an unimpressed look.

In one quick move, he lifted the plate and emptied it into the trash.

A feeling of acute hopelessness made you grip the counter to stay standing.

‘You’re only allowed to cook for yourself.’ Tony muttered. ‘Don’t get smart with the rules.’

He picked up his Starkpad and walked back to the elevator.

You ate the burger that you’d saved for yourself. The half blackened first attempt to Tony’s. A numbness filled the cracks in your heart. Even Jarvis stayed silent.

After you’d cleaned the kitchen, you went back to your room.

No space felt welcome anymore, except perhaps in here. Without prompting, you picked up the next book on the shelf.

Jarvis spoke softly.

‘As part of the Simulated Home Environment programme, I can order you more books.’ He offered.

You closed your eyes as tears started falling again. Instinctively, you understood that it was the closest he could offer to a hug.

‘Thanks Jarvis.’ You whispered.

You resolved in that moment, to avoid Tony and Pepper as much as possible. Guilt plagued you as you realised that you were ruining their home. Jarvis made the decision bearable, even artificial kindness was better than rejection.

—-------------

It is very easy to forget someone you don’t care about. It is even easier when you are barely reminded of them.

You adjusted immediately to a schedule of isolation. You only ate meals when the apartment was empty. You did your best to stay occupied in the room you’d been assigned.

Pepper made a half-hearted effort initially.

She would come to your room in the evening, checking in with her careful kindness and polite smile. Just feeling her exhaustion after a long day of work only made you feel more guilty for existing.

Soon, you started making sure you were in bed before she returned. You heard her try your locked door once or twice. Soon, she left you alone.

Tony’s method was much more efficient. He made no attempts to see you.

You were sure he tried to put you out of mind as much as possible. Any messages from him were relayed through Jarvis.

Sometimes, you only knew he had returned to the apartment, because of the pang of thirst that would only last a few moments after arrival.

—-------

Jarvis became your best friend. Grocery orders soon included as much tailoring to your wants as he could manage. You tried making new recipes together.

You weren’t allowed any internet access, so every book he provided you with was a welcome relief from the unrelenting listlessness. He found a loophole to buy you educational materials, and soon enough you had lego kits and engineering kits to trial.

The best part about Jarvis was that he talked to you. He learned to wake you from nightmares, before the red glow knocked your furniture over.

Your skin never stopped crawling from the lack of touch. But, as the world carried on better without you in it, you learned that isolation was what you deserved.

—----------

When Tony took Pepper on a surprise Christmas vacation, you were surprised by the disappointment you felt.

You’d been looking forward to seeing a Christmas tree more than anything.

You tried to see the positive of unrestricted access to the whole of the apartment. You watched Christmas movies and commented on them to Jarvis. You built your own tree out of green lego, and placed it on the side table.

Loneliness was a feeling that had started to drag. You tried to put it out of your mind.

You weren’t expecting anything for Christmas, least of all what you got.

At 7pm on Christmas Eve, Jarvis announced that an authorised guest had entered the elevator.

Electric fear had sent you into a tailspin. You were sure it must be Director Fury. You worried he’d found out you were home alone, and was ready to move you somewhere more secure.

You’d had that exact nightmare more than once.

When Agent Romanoff stepped off the elevator, clutching her side in obvious injury, your mouth dropped in shock.

‘Hi kid.’ She said with a reassuring smile clearly intended to keep you calm. ‘You happen to know where the first aid kit is?’

The instruction grounded your shooting anxiety. You hadn’t been face to face with another person in months. You nodded, hurrying over to the cupboard under the sink for the nearest kit.

You offered it out to her from a careful distance, embarrassed by the way your hands trembled. She noticed the shaking, but she didn’t comment.

‘Thanks.’ She murmured and you couldn’t help the rush of relief at her praise.

You could feel her curiosity at your reaction. It sat with her muted pain, just below the surface.

‘Happy Christmas.’ She said with another kind smile, nodding down at the lego Christmas tree on the side table. ‘Did you build that with Tony?’

You shook your head as fear constricted your heart. You knew Jarvis had found a loophole in his instructions to even get you the lego in the first place.

‘You built it yourself? That’s impressive.’ She commented. You let out a shaky exhale at her reassurance. Her head tilted imperceptibly, but you felt her sudden confusion.

‘Do you need help Agent Romanoff?’ You stumbled unsurely, gesturing towards the first aid kit.

‘No, that’s okay.’ She assured you, as she started walking towards the nearest bathroom. ‘And you can call me Natasha.’

You didn’t reply, you felt rooted to the spot. You hugged yourself, but you weren’t sure why.

‘You got big plans tonight?’ Natasha called out from the bathroom, leaving the door open as she placed the first aid kit on the sink and began addressing the deep gash above her hip.

You stared at the ground, not wanting to seem intrusive. It wasn’t hard to focus on something else during a conversation. You talked to Jarvis all the time, and he wasn’t even in the room.

‘No.’ You answered quietly. Short answers felt safer.

‘When are Tony and Pepper getting home?’ Natasha asked, pausing to hiss as she wrapped a bandage around her front.

‘Jarvis said a few more weeks.’ You answered promptly.

There was a clatter in the bathroom.

‘Jarvis?’ Natasha asked the ceiling, with forced calm.

The tension in her voice made your stomach flutter with nervousness. Jarvis responded without hesitation.

‘Babysitter protocol is anticipated to last until the 11th of January, but Mr. Stark has not confirmed his return.’

There was an extended silence.

‘Fuck.’ Natasha said quietly. She walked out of the bathroom and back towards you. You felt ashamed, but you weren’t sure why. You held yourself tighter.

‘When was the last time you saw Tony or Pepper?’ She asked you, her eyes scanning you with renewed attentiveness.

You hesitated, trying desperately to remember an instance.

Natasha shook her head, taking your silence as answer enough.

She reached out to touch your shoulder.

You flinched violently and startled backward in alarm.

Natasha’s shock was obvious.

You stared down at the ground as you started to cry.

‘Sorry.’ You whispered. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I wasn’t trying to hurt you.’ Natasha told you gently. You were too scared to meet her eyes.

‘I know.’ You assured her as you tried to brush away your tears. ‘It’s me. I’m dangerous.’

The silence extended out again.

Natasha broke it with a renewed certainty in her tone.

‘You’re coming with me.’ She decided quietly. ‘And then, I’m calling Tony.’

You fought an instinctive sense of elation as deep-rooted worries floated up inside you.

‘Y/N is not permitted to leave the apartment without Director Fury or Mr. Stark.’ Jarvis supplied immediately, voicing the most obvious problem.

‘My clearance is higher than Director Fury’s.’ Natasha noted in her deceptively passive voice.

‘Correct.’

‘Only seems logical that I should have the same authority.’ Natasha concluded. ‘I do also represent Shield.’

Jarvis didn’t answer.

Suddenly, the elevator doors slid open in the corner of the room.

Natasha understood Jarvis' wordless signal as much as you did.

With a delicateness that you didn’t deserve, Natasha took your hand in hers. You started trembling immediately. She didn’t tighten her hold as she led you into the elevator.

‘Everything is going to be okay.’ Natasha murmured, as you descended the tower for the very first time.

You didn’t answer. You wanted to believe her more than anything.

TBC

Tagging:

@whofan88 @lostandsearching @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @xxromanoffxx @b-5by5 @peggycarter-steverogers @iblameitonclint @natasha-danvers @reminiscingtonight @mindofwesley @blackxwidowsxwife @wandaromanova @wandavixen @peabrain112 @theperfectlovestory @wellsayhelloaagin @owloftheshadows​ @wickedmuses​ @strangegardentaco​ @hallecarey1​ @marvels-writings​ @alexzz13​ @ic-4u​ @007giuliastonem​ @natashabelovas​ @iliketozoneout​ @chasethemoon​ @p0orbaby​ @tastetherambeau​ @rightwereyouleftme​ @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday​ @whataloadof​ @fxckmiup​ @333hhm @women-am-i-right

Your tags are so funny LMAO I'm really happy you like the fic

Speak Up Baby.

Mommy decides to test your limits. It will of course, be fun for you.

Or

Natasha fucks you until you cry.

Warnings: Heavy general NS*FW themes, presumed mutual consent, presumed safe word, mommy kink, use of a vibrator on reader, use of a strap on- on reader, use of bondage (ropes) on reader, reader gets breasts played with, overstimulation, reader gets manhandled by Natasha, reader cries from pleasure and overstim, mentioned edging, reader begs to stop, clitoral and gspot over stimulation, reader sucks on Natasha’s breasts, multiple orgasms, reader gets called a sl*ut, sweet heart, baby and kotenok, Natasha gets called mommy once, no pronouns are used for reader, reader has a pus*sy and breasts

Note you do not have permission to translate and or repost this story thank you :)

It’s straight up just porn lmao💀 It was inspired by one of @nermalina's posts but I couldn’t find it😪 I just woke up when I posted this so apologies for any errors, I hope you enjoy :)💕 Edit: I accidentally deleted this post and I'm gonna cry-

Asking for permission

The sounds of your whines and whimpers were smothered into mommy's breasts as you suckled on them, the couples vibrator inside you sending waves of pleasure into your swollen clit and gspot. Your arms were tightly and expertly bound behind you by a stunning crimson red dyed jute rope. It managed to be soft and worn in, while still being rough enough to hold you still and to leave reddened marks.

The coolness of the bed sheets sank into your bare legs, a puddle of your cum dripping off Natasha's thigh. Mommy had decided to try and see how many times you could cum before passing out after edging you for hours, and you had already done so about three times.

---

"Mo-mommy please I can't take an-y more mmf!" Her hand had grasped the back of your head before shoving your mouth back into her breasts. The roughness and feigned carelessness sent tingles straight to your overstimulated and puffy pussy. Tears stinging at your eyes.

"Speak up baby, what was that?" You could hear the faint smugness and mocking confusion in mommy's voice as she turned up the vibrations with her phone. Your hips bucked and twitched, not sure if to move toward or away from the overwhelming sensation. Mommy's large strap pressing against your stomach.

You tried to answer but the only noises you could only make were some pathetic whimpers into mommy's chest, her moaning softly at the vibrations.

Natasha's soft hands reached down and began to expertly play with your breasts. Gentle fluttery movements at one moment, then groping and tweaking your nipple roughly in her hands. "I can feel how wet you are slut, gonna cum sweet heart?"

The warm tingling pleasure grew more as something coiled and squeezed in your tummy. Your hips with a mind of their own desperately ground down against mommy's thigh, pushing the vibrator harder against your clit and deeper inside you. Slick smearing against Natasha's creamy skin. Bright sparks burst behind your eyes as your body trembled.

Mommy's touch shoved you harshly over the edge. Sobbing as overwhelming pleasure swamped you, your pussy spilling cum and squirting all over Mommy's thigh. Tears streaked down your flushed cheeks.

The incessant whirring of the vibe sent sharp overstimulated pleasure pain straight to your swollen clit as you wailed, trying to push off the toy unsuccessfully. You tried shifting your arms to remove the toy only to find them immobilised. Natasha frowned playfully and tutted, hands grasping your hips and lifting you into the air easily. Your stomach swooped with the unexpected motion.

She brought you down on her forgotten strap, the toy being forced in along with the vibrator. Mommy's cock shoved the vibe harder against your g spot, a near painful squeezing knot reappearing in your tummy.

The strap stretched you wide open, you could feel the silicon pressing firmly against your walls. Waves of pleasure tumbled and crested over your body as Natasha's hips rolled smoothly into yours. Your mouth parted as you whined noiselessly. Not so fast, we aren't done yet Kotenok."

AU where R discovers that her lover Natasha isn't actually a secret agent, but a very prolific serial killer.

Aren't We All Sinners

Pairing: soft!dark Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: violence, deaths, use of good girl, infidelity, Nat is soft!dark and a serial killer—it would be as you expect. soft!dark warrants 18+ but there is no explicit sexual or extreme gore/violent content.

Note: Damn—not you sending a really good prompt in and making me write more than a drabble for this LMAO I really enjoyed this one!

Count: ~2.1K

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha Romanoff lives a quiet life in the suburbs.

She's the nice neighbor who gets along with everyone in the community, the one who helps you if she sees you struggling to carry all your groceries in. She says hi to new residents and offers refreshments for her delivery workers.

Everyone loves Natasha Romanoff, who's kind, charming, and soft-spoken.

Even you.

Especially you.

How could you not love her?

She's your friend, your confidant, your safety, your lover—your affair.

Natasha Romanoff was your secret.

"I'm sorry."

You apologize to her every time you see her. You can't help it. You know you're a detriment to her, maybe the most painful thing she has ever loved, but you can't stop.

"S'kay," Natasha muttered against your lips as she pulled you close, feeling the curve of your back and plumpness of your lips. "I want you no matter what."

And Natasha never fails to make you feel wanted. She dotes on you, knows when to be tender and when to be rough, and looks at you like you're the only thing in her world.

You couldn't really understand why. You were so...you. You were neither unnoteworthy nor extraordinary. Just you.

Until you discovered an odd creak in the floors in Natasha's bedroom when you moved her rug to vacuum.

Inside, you found passports and fake IDs. Some were hers. Some weren't.

"I'm in witness protection," Natasha admits with her lips pursed and sorrow in her eyes. "I used to work for the CIA when I found out my boss's boss was helping a drug lord run his cartel."

The way Natasha's shoulders tense up makes your heart hurt for her. You hesitantly place your hand over hers, tracing over the small scar over her knuckle.

Natasha takes a deep breath, turning her hand over to lace your fingers together as she gives you a small smile. "I was a whistleblower. We took down the cartel but my life is always going to be at risk. My career is essentially over."

"I'm so sorry, Nat," your lips trembled, holding her hand more tightly. You felt sympathy for the woman who had lost everything to keep people safe and had to live her life quietly now.

"There you go again," Natasha said as she pulled you into her lap, feeling the familiar curve of your body and the softness of your lips she wanted to make swollen. "Always saying sorry when it's me who wants you with no regards to anything else. You make this life bearable, you make it worth it."

Natasha bites your bottom lip before she soothes over it with her tongue. Her hand drifts up your shirt, and you tremble in her arms.

"Am I worth all the pain you're causing?" Natasha asked as her lips pressed a line against your jaw and down your neck.

You think about your wife, who's at work and blissfully unaware of your infidelity. You think about how much she loves you, and she's doing nothing wrong at all, and how she'll be so devastated if she ever found out.

It's wrong.

Being with Natasha in this way was wrong.

But when Natasha talks about if the pain was worth it, the pain you're causing to your unknowing wife and yourself, the answer is—

"Yes," you whimpered as Natasha began to unbutton your shirt, hands drifting everywhere until you're pliant. "You make it worth it."

"Good girl."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Hi, baby," your wife kissed your lips softly before your nose.

"Hi, Janey," you gave her a quiet smile. "Did you have a good day at work?"

"Pretty good," Jane smiled at you. "Got pretty far ahead in my research project."

"That's really good," you genuinely praised her.

Jane bit her bottom lip as she leaned her head against your shoulder, pressing her face into your neck to hide away her pleased flush.

Jane Foster was tender too, and tender in all ways. Her nature was gentle and righteous, paired with a child-like wonder for all things in the world—and you were just one of the things in it.

But you loved her for that.

And all of that tenderness was being destroyed by you without her even knowing.

It was wrong.

All of it was wrong.

Being with Natasha.

Being with Jane.

Nothing was right anymore.

It wasn't a simple matter anymore of who you were going to choose because the truth was—you deserve neither.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

There hadn't been an indication that anything was wrong. There might've never been if you hadn't had to leave the city to visit your sick grandmother. It was just a state over, and you declined both Jane's and Natasha's offer to come with you.

It was just a coincidence. A freak coincidence that the FBI would be questioning the neighborhood your grandmother lived in.

"Sorry to disturb the two of you, ma'am," a tall, burly man said as he took off his sunglasses. "We're just looking into someone and our last tip has led us to believe that our suspect was in this area."

His partner held up a photo, and you felt like your blood was freezing up. You refrain from moving your hands from the door and behind your back, as you know they'll see it trembling.

It must be an old photo.

The moment captured Natasha with short and blonde hair. You'd probably never even recognize her in the photo if it wasn't for the small scar on her knuckle you could make out in the photo.

"Have you seen anyone that looks like this?" The burly man asked.

You peered at the photo longer, pretending to analyze it deeply for them.

"No," you exhaled like you were disappointed you couldn't be of more help. "I'm sorry. I don't actually live around here and my grandmother has been too frail to leave the house for a couple of years now. I haven't seen anyone like that since I've been here, though."

"That's alright, ma'am," the burly man's partner answered as he put the photo away and gave you his business card. "Just give us a call if you do happen to see her. Don't approach her, though."

"Oh, is she dangerous?" You pinched your brow together in worry.

"Yes," he answered. "We haven't broadcasted this to the public because it would only make it easier for her to hide, even if we got help from the public."

The burly man sighed as he rubbed his temples with one hand. "She's a very prolific serial killer. We don't even have that much information about her. All we know it's possible she's killed over 40 people. She doesn't have an MO, so it's best not to approach her if you do see her because there's no telling what her type is."

"Oh, god," your voice trembled, and it wasn't even fake.

"Just keep an eye out and be safe, ma'am." The men bid you goodbye before they left.

It wasn't even a question of whether you should go back. You arranged for another family member to look after your grandmother, and you took the next flight home.

The flight delay had you returning home in the dark. The first thing you did was go home, but Jane was nowhere to be found.

You called and called, but there was no answer.

You called Darcy next, who told you that Jane just checked in with her and was still at the lab. Some kind of breakthrough and would be late.

Relief floods your system.

The rational part of you knows you should contact the police. You should've told the FBI agents the truth.

But the irrational part of you—the part that still loves Natasha, despite being terrified, needed to know why.

Why hadn't she killed you?

Why hasn't she killed anyone in this neighborhood?

Why did she find you worth not killing?

You knocked on her door, but there was no answer. No sign she might even be home. You called next, but there was no answer.

Natasha never kept a spare key around the house, inciting that no matter how good you may hide, the chances of someone finding it was never zero.

Still—she had given you a spare key.

It was just another reason you needed answers.

You quietly opened the door, stepping in. The house was dark, the only light coming from the basement.

It wasn't finished, still requiring flooring and many renovations. Natasha took you down many times to get your opinion. It wasn't like any part of the house had been forbidden to you.

You opened the door, thinking about how Natasha regularly greased the bolts to have it refrain from squeaking. She always took good care of her home.

When you reached just enough down the stairs to peer in the area, the revulsion made you stumble, nearly falling down the stairs before you caught yourself.

It smelt...metallic and something overwhelmingly wrong.

Natasha whipped around, blood over her front and hands drenched even as she wore medical gloves.

"Oh, sweetheart," Natasha cooed disappointedly at you. "You weren't supposed to be home so soon and see this. What brought you back?"

She stalks towards you, and you fall back against the step as you crawl back up it.

"I—I—The FBI..." you couldn't even finish your sentence.

You couldn't finish it as your eyes wouldn't leave the mangled body in the middle of the room. You supposed it wasn't too mangled. You could still make out her face, even if the blood from her neck was getting everywhere.

You looked over and saw her phone nearby, unlocked with her messages open.

You couldn't read it, couldn't see it clearly at all, but you knew the last person texted was Darcy.

Who texted her? You'd never know.

You watched Jane's body be impossibly still.

"Oh? FBI? They're definitely a couple of steps behind. They should've been in Washington by now. They really must be trying to comb through every little tip." Natasha hummed as she stood before you. She leaned down, resting her hand against the steps by your head as she trapped you in.

"Tell me what I should do with you, sweetheart?" Natasha asked, your body between her legs as you trembled underneath her.

"Why did you do that?" You choked. "I would've left Jane."

"Would you?" Natasha cocked her brow. "If you hadn't known what I was, would you have? Or would you have left us both?"

You were silent, and Natasha clicked her tongue.

"I know you better than you know yourself. Do you know how long I've been watching you? I followed you here all the way here as you moved from your grandmother's house." Natasha lifted one hand to stroke your cheek with the back of her finger, getting blood on you.

"So unassuming, and yet so sweet," Natasha muttered. "So scared," she looked at your shaking hands, "and still here."

Natasha's eyes are piercing in a way you've never seen before. These are the eyes that probably looked at you when you weren't even aware of her existence. These were the eyes that followed you.

"But the question is—will you remain?" Natasha asked softly. "You make it all so worth it. I was so good for you. I'm not sure if I could be without you. If you were just a little less self-sacrificing, Janey would still be alive."

It's slightly mocking, and you feel the tears well up in your eyes.

Jane was gone because of you.

"I'm scared," you admitted, unsure what else you could say. "Nothing's going to be the same..."

You shouldn't say these things. You should lie and tell Natasha that things would be like they were before as long as she stopped. You should lie and say anything to make sure you lived—escaped.

"No, it won't be," Natasha agreed. "So, tell me, sweetheart. What should I do?"

"I—I don't know," you shook your head.

Natasha sighed. "I suppose it's not fair for me to ask you what I should do with you." She spends a long minute staring at you as if deliberating.

"I'm taking you with me either way," she finally decides. "But it's up to you what you'll do with me. Be my well-kept doll or be my accomplice."

You swallowed, trying to not answer too fast. Answering too fast would seem rash.

"What would I do? As your accomplice," you ask quietly.

"I wouldn't make you kill anyone, sweetheart," Natasha reassures. "Just stay with me tonight as I take care of the mess we made." She says we like you had personally stabbed Jane. Like you tricked your wife into staying late so Natasha could grab her. "We can talk about all of it later."

"Okay," you acquiesce because there's no way you could escape Natasha. It was too late to call for help, and you were to live with the consequences of your choice.

Natasha smiled before she swooped down and kissed you firmly, getting blood everywhere as her body momentarily pressed into you.

"Good girl."

pov: you survived 2021

Flipping A Story (Avengers X Teen!Fem!Reader) *PLATONIC

Characters: Avengers X Teen!Fem!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: Bullying, fighting, violence, bit of swearing

Request: Part I: Hey! How about a avengers x reader where Reader has “mass mind control” power where she work it like a computer. She can copy, paste, cut memories from one to another. Basically control people, and make herself look like a complete victim if she wants to. She’s a teen, usually reserved and kind . She sees the Avengers as her family and friends. She had developed a thick skin to bullies and hate, just ignore them. But one day it gets out of hand in school. Part 2: They talk shit about the Avengers. And she was pissed. She decided to have fun, made him and his friend fight each other. Laugh at it. And before the principle comes, she was already fake crying. The kids ended up with slight skull fracture, broken jaw, losing teeth and some bruises. But well, she was crying so it wasn’t her fault anyways. But peter manged to record the whole thing and gave to the avengers. They were horrified and impressed at her power and acting skill.

You had a tough skin, an armour you had built up over the years through exposure to being treated differently and badly by peers and strangers alike. You’d taught yourself to be reserved, to be quiet, be kind, and be patient, because at the end of the day, you were aware you had a power that could cause a lot of damage if you so desired. It was through your caution and level head, that you found yourself close friends with people who actually understood you. The Avengers. 

Keep reading

are you jealous?

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

warnings: (NSFW) strap on, fingering, semi-public sex, slight mommy kink

Keep reading

natty dropping to her knees to eat her little valentine out <333

warnings: older!nat x kotenok!reader, oral sex (r receiving), and age gap. nsfw

“Hey.”

Her smile grows when her eyes drop to where you’re sitting. The small make shift bench in side her walk in closet seems more comfortable than it looks like.

But it’s the way Natasha looks at you from where she stands with her hair up in a bun and cheeks pink from working out.

“Hi, Natty.”

She reaches out a hand to dance her knuckles along the apple of your cheek. “You look pretty like this.”

“Really?” You ask her, genuine shock present in doe eyes.

The older woman nods and tilts your chin up with a finger. “You don’t think so, kotenok?”

You shrug, then look away from her gaze. “I don’t really think about it too much.” The words feel more intimate now that the two of you are so physically close.

But it’s the silence that makes you take a shaky breath of air. Natasha sees it and a frown erupts on her lips. Her hand reaches over again to force your attention back to her where her thumb draws over the crevices of your bottom lip.

“Can I kiss you?”

You look baffled by the question, almost feeling the blood that rushes to your cheeks and nose. But you nod anyways and bite your lip rather nervously.

“Okay?”

You nod again. “It’s more than okay, Natty.”

The older woman leans a great height to kiss you. What was supposed to be a simple kiss turns deep when you feel her tongue smooth over your bottom lip for access. It’s the whimper that parts your part and allows her access, and it’s the hand sneaking around your neck that has you heaving in response.

Natasha grows weary as she bends over. Kneeling down and settled between your parted legs, the red head pulls away to breath and she looks at you shameless.

“You alright, Bunny?”

You flush under the use of your nickname. The way the word falls so gracefully from your girlfriend’s plump lips has you clenching your thighs in arousal.

Natasha notices and with a grin, she cocks her head in faux inquiry. “Want me to help you? Make you feel good, yeah?”

Your eyes widen at her offer. While shy, who were you to deny the red headed bombshell in front of you? Your libido and abstinence could only do so much for you. Especially with the way the older woman kneels in front of you as if in prayer.

“O-Okay, Natty.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, shy.

Her hand squeezed your thigh from where it laid. She was just as excited as you were and she made it obvious with the way she bit her lip as she leaned in to kiss you.

While her lips pecked your own in a quick manner, her hand slipped around the small cropped lounge shorts you were wearing. The soft cotton fabric felt like sandpaper against her skin and she was just as eager to tug it down your legs and let it look around your ankles.

Your heart raced out of your chest just as her hands peeled your legs apart by the knee. Despite the lack of light, the small ambiance of the lamp casted a daring shadow over your girlfriend’s features.

You had nearly forgotten the fact that you were bare to here in your shared walk in closet and that you were dripping onto the bench, anticipating her next move.

Her eyes travelled to you then to where you had your legs separated. “Jesus Christ,” her cheeks grow red at the sight of you.

You were glistening, Natasha could definitely say that. But it was the way you were looking at her with big, wide, doe eyes that shed whatever’s left of your innocence that made Natasha breathless.

Nevermind the sight of your cunt, pink and puffy, wet and drooling all over her three thousand dollar hand crafted bench. She was at awe. Both at how beautiful you were and how much she loved you.

“Sweetheart,” her growl returns you to the land of the living. Your eyes staring at her dead ahead before within a blink, and her head nudges it’s place between your legs.

A silence screams parts your mouth and the sensation of her tongue fills your cunt with ease - the familiarity of her touch caressing your insides.

“Natty - OH!”

Your body falls and arches against her. Theres that coil in your stomach that churns and curls your toes. It makes you heave before forcing your hands to grip the curls on her head.

“Jesus,” she pulls away enough to mumble it against your wet cunt. “So - So sweet for me, honey.”

A shaky whimper breaks the silence, and with your shaking legs and bucking hips, you near your finish with a loud cry of the redhead’s name. Natasha moans boastfully loud, the vibration enough to make you sensitive and pull away from her anxiously.

“Too m-much. H-Hurts.”

She pulls away, mouth and chin glistening with wetness. Her tongue barely makes an appearance but when it does, she licks away the reminiscent of you.

Then a grin pulls up on her swollen lips. Her fingers hook around your ankles, and before you know it, her mouth is back on yours.

ITS BEEN SO LONG !

Also a dark!Wandanat where they see you at your job one day and have to be with you 😩

A/N: I would love nothing more than for wandanat to see me working and just be like “hm...let’s fix that” also I know I’ve been gone for years 🥲

warnings: dark!fic (18+ ONLY)

✨👻 spooky month requests 👻✨

-

“Hey, can you take the customers that just came in?” you hear your manager ask and nod, smoothing your apron as you head to the front.

“Good morning! How can I help you today?”

Two women stand on the other side of the counter, and as their attention diverts from the items behind the glass to you, charming smiles appear on their faces. The one on your left has bright blonde hair resting on her shoulders in contrast to her counterpart with orange hair, both hiding behind sunglasses, but you couldn’t help feeling like you’d seen them somewhere. 

“Good morning, love,” the orange haired woman speaks softly as she steps a bit closer. “We’ve never been here before. What do you recommend?”

“If you’re feeling something sweet, these donuts are amazing,” you tell them as you gesture to a couple, moving down the counter a bit and the pair follows. “If not, these cheddar bagels are also my favorite.”

“I think we’ll take something sweet,” the blonde woman answers with a grin. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all!”

You carefully package the donuts that your customers select and ring up the transaction, answering a few questions about what the city is like, as they’re apparently just visiting for a while and wanted to know more about the area. When you finish, you’re startled by the blonde woman leaning over the counter to tuck a cash tip in your apron pocket before the pair thanks you and head out while holding hands.

“They must really like you,” your manager jokes as they approach and you cover your face with a laugh.

Outside of the bakery, Wanda climbs onto the bike behind Natasha, placing the food in her bag before wrapping her arms around her waist.

“Do you think asking someone we just met to join us while we’re on the run is coming off too strong?” Wanda asks over Natasha’s shoulder, who chuckles in response almost immediately.

“Who said we were going to ask?”