Hiya! Welcome. I'd love to chat if you send me a message or an ask. I'm queer, I love fanfiction and have started writing to help evolve my own voice and writing style.
Sincerely, thank you so much to everyone who is reading my work, especially those who like and reblog it! It helps so much.
I'll post most fridays at ~2pm (australian eastern standard time, UTC + 10), and randomly other times when I have something extra in the vault 💁♀️.
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Note that this is secondary blog, so comments etc. will be from @livinglyingbreathingdyingcrying
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You catch sight of a figure walking up a mountain cliff-face.
“I think that’s Rogers.” You say.
“What? Where?” Yelena asks quickly.
You point to him about a kilometre away and higher up the mountain.
“Kate! I need you to stop him, now!”
“I’m going to help Natasha.” You say, switching to solid glass and taking off into the sky. “Slow him down!” You scream out to them, rocketing through the sky like a bullet.
If Natasha is already dead, then you need to speed to reach her and keep the cells of her body alive.
You zoom over the edge of the cliff and immediately start a rapid dive down, head first and pummelling super fast. Fog covers the bottom most of the way down, you can’t tell where the ground is until you think you see something through the haze.
It’s Natasha.
You’re sure. The sight of her makes you hiccup mid-air and you have to stop yourself from spinning out of control.
~~~
Back up the mountain, Kate drops the gloves of her suit and postures up to take her shot.
Yelena has taken off in a sprint up the mountain determined to stop Red Skull from taking back the stone.
“I can’t believe I’m about to shoot Captain America.” The brunette mumbles. She arches back, and pulls the arrow taught against the wire. She lets out a soft puff of air as she lets the arrow slip from her fingers.
Her shot is perfect. Steve is still a far distance from Red Skull who watches the super soldier jolt and twist around with the force of Kate’s arrow hitting him square in the back.
She activates the arrow and a taser beam sends him sprawling on the floor and spasming.
The stone gets knocked from his hands and slides away from him on the ground.
~~~
You land a short distance from Natasha, sending dust and rock blowing in a ring around your impact on the ground.
You don’t have time to think about how high she must have fallen, the impact on her body, how scared she must have been falling all the way down.
You hurry over to her.
You immediately place your palms against her ribs on both sides of her torso and let microscopic sand particles penetrate into her skin. They travel all through her body and cover every cell.
You create a sort of life support powered by you. The energy from the sand provides her cells the energy for life, it keeps her brain alive and stops her body from deteriorating.
You dread to know how long she’s been down here for. Her body is still warm and the blood around you is still minimal, but the start of a red pool of blood around her head has started to form.
You focus intently, closing your eyes as you carefully mend the fracture at the base of her skull, sand flowing around the injury where she hit the ground. You seal it up into place, the sand acting like a gauze and pulling the bone fragments back into place. You’re the most careful around her brain. Almost everything else can be healed later but her brain cannot be without oxygen for too long. You create extra protection around the brain tissue determined to keep all of it healthy with powerful energy from the sand pumping into the cells.
You can see her leg is broken and surely her spine would have broken under the impact.
An explosion sounds from above you. You need the stone. The rest will have to wait.
~~~
Kate sends another arrow flying into the area that explodes upon impact, sending purple gas that obscures the vision of both Steve and Red Skull.
Yelena has quickly made up the distance and bravely enters the smoky haze. You zoom through only a couple feet above the ground behind her.
Rogers adopts a fighting pose, ready to pounce on the stone.
Yelena and Red Skull move closer, until all four of you circle the stone on the ground. Soon it will be a race to the middle, the victor coming out with the stone.
“Rogers.” You growl. “I need the stone.”
“For?” He snaps back.
“I’m not going to let her die. You know she deserves better than a ditch and a lonely funeral.”
“I’m here to make a trade. Her for the stone.” He replies.
Red Skull croaks out from behind you, “That is impossible!”
You want to roll your eyes at how lazy he is, “That’s not a sacrifice. You don’t want the stone, nor do I.”
“All I want is her, and I'm not afraid to kill you to get it.” You warn.
You hold your hand out to him, asking for the stone, “Please don’t give me another reason to hurt you.”
“I have to leave the stone here. It belongs in 2014. Our future, the future of the universe, depends on it.” He says. “Don’t waste her sacrifice.”
“How dare you talk about her sacrifice.” Yelena snarls.
Red Skull makes a sudden leap for the stone, but he’s loud and slow.
You form a small ball of sand in the air above your palm and set it into him as he dives for the stone. The impact sends him flying backwards into a pile of rocks behind him.
The ball comes flying back, you mould it into a spear that hovers in the air and you point it as a warning to Steve. They both watch on as Yelena picks up the stone.
You gesture to the stone in Yelena hand, “You can have this back. But first we need something inside it.”
Red Skull shakes his head in disbelief.
“You cannot steal a soul from the stone.”
“Oh yeah? Watch me.”
Steve reaches around to rip the arrow still stuck to his back. It drops into the dirt with a quiet thud.
“You got your next coordinates?” You ask him.
He nods.
He couldn’t stop you if he tried. Your glass hand reaches down and presses the GPS on Steve's hand, sending him to wherever he was going next.
~~~
This has to be the hardest thing you’ve ever done.
With Kate and Yelena in tow you guide their abseil down the edge of the cliff.
A pair of huge pillars above you denote the opening to where Natasha made her jump.
You float down alongside them, following their pace and making sure neither of them fall. You try to stay a step ahead in case anything is here to defend the bodies at the bottom.
~~~
Yelena looks around at you to see what’s wrong. There’s a moment where she looks at you confused, and then recognises the horror on your face. Her eyes immediately look down and she sees her sister.
She takes a giant leap off from the wall and lets go of the rope, falling rapidly without support.
Kate pops the face of her helmet and screams at her, “Yelena!”
You take off after her, catching onto her arm and then wrapping around her waist, you hold her to you and gradually slow her dissent until your feet touch the ground. She pushes you off her right as you place her down beside you and she runs over to Natasha’s body.
“Yelena, wait!” You call for her, but you don’t try to stop her.
You can hear Kate rushing the rest of the distance.
You float over to where Yelena is kneeling over Natasha, the red and white suit smeared with blood around her knees from the small droplets of blood around Natashas body.
She rips her whole helmet off and drops it on the ground next to her. Her hair is dishevelled and stray strands stick to the tears on her cheeks.
Your chest heaves with silent sobs, but you shove them back down.
Kate comes running once she hits the ground. She slows to a stop when she comes up Natasha and the two of you.
She gulps at the sight of Natasha. Your sand pulses under her skin, the dark grains flow through her veins, turning them a midnight black. Dried blood reveals the true extent of her injuries that you’ve mostly managed to fix and hide.
Kate moves around Natasha’s legs and kneels down next to Yelena.
Yelena hunches over, and grips Natasha’s shoulder, trying to pull her sister into a hug.
You walk over and place a hand on Yelena’s shoulder to try to calm her down.
“Careful Yelena, I’ve put her into a coma but it’s still a fragile state.”
Yelena looks up at you, tears still falling from her eyes and desperate to hear good news.
“It should keep her body alive while we get her soul.” You whisper, the emotion in your throat threatening to steal your voice.
She nods with a sniffle and holds up the stone above her head for you to take. Your hand shakes as you take it from her outstretched palm.
Its amber glow reflects against the lucent shine of your glassy fingers. You grip it in your palm and move to kneel down on Natasha’s other side.
Kate pulls Yelena from hunching over herself and lets the blonde rest on her shoulder.
You put the stone in the middle of Natasha’s chest above her sternum and close your eyes.
I’m coming, Tasha.
~~~
Orange. Everywhere. It’s like wearing amber-tinted glasses. You’re inside the stone, and it’s a ghostly place.
The pool of still water covering your feet, mirrors your reflection back to you. Your face is human, not glass or sand. You try to change, willing your hands to turn crystal hard, into sand, but nothing happens.
Your surroundings are familiar but you don’t recognise it yet.
A figure is sitting there, and immediately her posture, her body is familiar to you.
It doesn’t matter how long it’s been, you know her like she’s your home.
“Tasha!”
You’re frozen in place despite the way you demand your feet to run to her, you don’t move.
“Y/N?”
She stands up and faces you, confused.
“What are you doing here?” She says, warily. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I made my choice.” She says firmly.
“Please. We need you, Nat.”
“The world doesn’t need me.”
“Yes, it does.”
“No. It needs real heroes. Not people who pretend to be one.”
“You are a hero.” You urge. Your voice trails off low and your voice cracks as you whisper to her, “You're my hero.”
You try again to move closer to her, but the water clings to your feet and it’s like being stuck in cement.
“Please, Yelena is out there, waiting for you. Crying over your body.”
That does something. Her eyes meet yours in a flash and you watch as her green irises go blurry behind tears.
“Yelena’s back? She’s ok?”
“Yes, she’s fine. She’s great. Everyone is, you saved them all.” Your voice is tilting up into a fast and encouraging tone, but it's painful. You're getting desperate. You search for something to say to convince her.
“But she needs you.”
Natasha nods. She takes a look around the amber sky, an orange horizon that doesn’t seem to end. It makes you wonder how long she’s been here, how the time works, because she moves lazily and exhausted like she’s been living here for years.
She turns back to you, and steps an inch closer.
“And what about you?”
Your brow furrows, “What about me?”
Another step closer, “What do you need?”
You shake your head at her, dismissing her question.
“This isn’t about me.”
She turns to leave you standing there and you haven’t even convinced her to leave, let alone found a way to get her out.
This time when you yank your feet from the ground they lift out of the water and you tear after her. The water splashes up your legs and slows you down but you catch her, colliding with her back. You wrap your arms around her and dig your face into her neck. Her hair brushes against your cheek and you whimper against her skin. It’s cold and you feel like if you press too hard, she'll disappear in your arms.
“Please, please, Nat.” You beg. “We need to find a way out of here.”
She turns and pushes your hands off her. Furious fire blazes in her eyes. “You don’t have a way out of here?”
You shake your head, “We can find it together.”
The tears in your eyes soften her raging glare.
She reaches for your hand, interlacing her fingers through yours and gripping into them tightly.
She opens her mouth to speak, but a thunderous cracking sound booms from the sky like a storm louder than any you’ve heard before. You look up to the sky and a white light rips a hole through the orange horizon.
When you look back down, Natasha is gone. Your hand is empty of hers and she’s nowhere in sight.
The bed starts to crumble and you stagger into action. Something shivers down your spine and tells you it’s time, you have to leave. You close your eyes and with a huge burst of energy you pull yourself out of the stoneworld.
~~~
You're panting on your knees when you come to. Yelena’s waving a hand in front of your face and slaps you across the cheek.
“Hey!” You yelp.
“Sorry, sorry! You weren’t waking up.” She says quickly, “Did you get her?”
“I think so.” you nod. Her face lights up in your mind behind the orange sky. “Yelena, she was right there!” You exclaim.
You check Natasha lying there.
The stone on her chest has a small crack down the centre, but otherwise looks untouched.
“She hasn’t woken up?”
“No…” Yelena says.
“Should she be awake?” Kate asks.
“She left the soul stone.” You say.
Yelena’s breathing picks up, and you creep over close to Natasha’s side to check for a pulse.
“She doesn't have a pulse.”
You connect back with the sand coursing through her body.
“She’s still out, I don’t know what to do.”
You don’t want to risk killing or hurting her by using the sand to revive her like a defibrillator. It’s too big of a job keeping her cells healthy.
Yelena falls to the ground next to you, bumping your shoulder and she shakes Natasha gently.
“She should be awake?”
“I - I thought, she just needed her soul and then she’d wake up.”
Yelena calls her name.
“Natasha, wake up!”
She knocks the stone of Natasha’s chest and presses palm over palm over her lower sternum. She starts CPR compressions with straight arms, she presses her weight into Natashas chest. It caves it and pumps out.
Natasha stays unconscious, and you can feel her ribs are starting to fracture under the force of Yelena’s compressions. You force the sand around them to stay strong, and harden to act like a brace around the bone.
Kate watches on anxiously as Yelena becomes more frantic with her movements.
“Yelena.” Kate says. “Lena, stop.”
“Stop,” She holds Yelena's arms and pulls them away from Natasha’s chest.
“No!” She pushes Kate off her.
“Yelena, it’s not working. You’re going to hurt her.”
Yelena pauses and sobs Natasha’s body and you feel absolutely shattered. Kate pulls her off Natasha’s chest and rubs her back. Yelena curls into Kate and you sink lower on your knees. The green in Natasha’s eyes is covered by your sand and it’s like she’s staring into, telling you, you’ve failed.
“We can’t just leave her here.” Kate says.
You nod. “We’re not giving up.”
You swim an arm under Natasha’s shoulders and another under her knees, picking her up onto your thighs and lifting her into the air. You carry her back bridal-style, keeping her head tucked under your chin.
Chapter 3: Ch-ch-ch-changes (Time may change me, but I can’t trace time)
By the end of the week your calendar has 5 ‘X’s’ from Tuesday to Saturday. On Sunday morning something magical happens.
One of X’s pigeons flies through your window and small bits of dirt and feathers fall onto the fall as it skids across the floorboards.
You untie the paper-wrapped package attached to its back and quickly go to get it some seed mix and a bowl of water.
Once the bird is happy eating and drinking on your living room floor, you skid back over to the package and rip it open.
A set of tubes knock together with a glowing red liquid inside.
A slip of paper is folded up between them reads:
Should be enough for about 10 trips.
Test: Earth, within 10 years
X
You carefully pour a tube into the little accelerator box, and take your place in the centre of the circular mat, another gift from X. You’re racking up quite the tab.
Glass twists up your legs until it reaches your head, turning your skin a glistening lucid sheen.
You take a deep breath and press the watch.
It clicks.
Did it work?
Your vision slowly creeps back in, and you immediately recognise the night you’ve chosen to come to.
You’d put in these coordinates and this date almost instinctively.
God! You’d forgotten how cold it was.
You’re on the outskirts of St Petersburg, Russia for your first mission with Natasha.
At this point, you were friends, close friends but your feelings for her had long changed from platonic.
Icicles form on the smooth surface of your skin that is tinged white and blue like the ice.
It was the same that day.
You look on from the otherside of the mountain, almost invisible against the white snow beneath you, and watch the two of you climb side by side.
On foot you follow in Natasha’s footsteps up the snow covered mountain. You’ve turned to glass to avoid the deadly cold climates and feel a bit guilty for it. Fog puffs from Natasha’s mouth with every breath but she doesn’t seem cold though which makes you feel a bit better.
The two of you are on the way to a base up ahead that was recently raided by an unknown enemy.
Natasha has a worried and knowing look in her eyes but she refuses to say anything she may suspect about those responsible for the attack.
You don’t push her for answers and follow her lead loyalty. Missions like this were usually left to mid-level agents like Natasha. It was never something that Fury let you risk exposure for, even though it occasionally came at the cost of agents' lives.
Curiously though, you’ve been posted for this one. You don’t care, if anything you’re just excited to spend time with her. It feels good to know that you’ll be here to help protect her if anything goes wrong. A welcome change from the times you watch her leave, and only to wait desperately for the moment she comes back off a carrier safe and sound.
The mission is simple. Salvage anything you can from what was abandoned, destroyed or set on fire. Then destroy what was left for real.
The base is hidden behind a rocky interface between two mountains. It looks dangerous. As you start to climb you drop back to follow behind Natasha in case she slips or a rock beneath her comes loose from the mountain face. It looks like a rocky landslide could take off at any moment. You’re prepared to catch her and carry her up, floating above the rocks at any moment.
You’re not sure if it’s appropriate to offer her a flight up before anything goes wrong.
She stumbles a couple of times when the rock beneath her twists and —-. Each time your feet are off the ground and your hands are a hair's width away from her, ready to lift her from the rocky avalanche. But she always catches herself like a dancer who already anticipated the movement beforehand.
The base is small, a huge garage for helicopters that take agents to the base, rooms for armoury, file storage and dormitories. The control rooms are the worst damaged, computers with screens caved in, and most servers have been ripped from the racks and look like they’ve had hammers taken to them.
The whole time, Natasha moves like she’s in a trance. Skimming through file after file, electronic and hard copies like she’s searching for something. Every piece of garbage she picks up seems to add a piece to the puzzle that she’s solving in her mind.
However, you feel aimless, digging through scraps of metal and paper, hardly understanding what’s in front of you.
You can’t help but wonder again why you’re here. There is no pressing need for your powers and you can only string together simple sentences in Russian. You feel useless.
It took a few hours of searching before Natasha decides you’ve seen enough. She comes out of the last room and tells you that there’s nothing left to see.
You pour a special SHIELD technology petroleum through the whole base and set it on fire. You stubbornly insist that she stay outside and at least 200m metres away the whole time.
There’s no-one available for a pick up so the two of you get posted in a safe house until morning. You arrive at the door of an old cabin at sunset and it feels impossibly colder inside than out.
Natasha takes a look at your shivering figure and is surprised by how charming she finds your arms curled into yourself. You could have stayed in glass form, but once the mission was officially complete it felt weird.
The cabin is a single room with a bathroom at the back. It’s completely barren except for a small couch and kitchenette, and a thick layer of dust has settled on almost every visible surface. The fireplace is black with soot and old charcol, but it’s calling your name.
“Do you want to search the cupboards for any food?” Natasha asks.
She gestures to the fireplace, “I’ll get started on a fire.”
“Yeah, okay.”
You go through every drawer and cupboard in the place until you find one of them has a few cans of tomato spaghetti. They expired 2 years ago, it’ll have to do. There’s a fork and spoon in one of the drawers and you grab them both.
Natasha comes back in with a few logs and a handful of twigs, a blisters like wind follows inside before her, blowing snow and cold air through her hair and into the room. She lets the door slam shut behind her.
Kneeling in the fireplace to start a fire and with her bare hands you watch her rub sparks into one of the dryer logs. Somehow smoke starts to blow, the grass and sticks turn the sparks into flames and soon a blazing fire glows and starts to warm the room.
You almost run over to her, entranced by the warmth and red glow of the fire. You offer her the cans you found. You take a seat next to her on the ground and huddle together to conserve some warmth.
She opens the lids with the knife strapped to her calf and places them on a rack above the fire to warm up.
Natasha chuckles at the way you aggressively rub your hands together and practically moan at the warmth from the fire. Your face is going red from the heat.
“You can change to glass, you know.” She says. “I don’t mind.”
“And let you suffer alone?”
“You’re the only one suffering.” She laughs. “I’m Russian, I don’t get cold.”
“That’s impossible.”
After you’d choked down the old spaghetti in silence, you got up to look at the sleeping situation on the couch.
The bottom pulled out to extend it into a bed and the backrest cushions made up the bottom half of the ‘mattress’.
“Voila!” You display the bed to her.
“You can take it.” She says.
“What?”
“I’ll take the floor.”
“There’s plenty of space.”
“It’s ok.” She insists and refuses to move from her spot on the floor.
“This is ridiculous, we can easily share the bed.”
Granted, you were incredibly nervous to sleep next to her. And worried about anything your mind might accidentally conjure up during the night. Your power can sometimes show up, sand creeping from your fingertips to create various objects in your dreams, but you haven’t had any incidents for many years.
“Fine.” You relent to her wishes.
You pass her two of the cushions to make an improvised mattress on the floor. She pieces them together and sits on it. She turns back to face the fire and her hair drops to cover her face from you.
You collect the other two remaining cushions and move them onto the ground next to her. A small gap between the two of you.
“What are you doing?”
You lie down and your feet hang off the end, but it’s reasonably comfortable and warmer than sitting on the cold floor. You close your eyes and try to relax.
“Sleeping, what does it look like?” You try to keep the smile off your lips, but fail. You blink one eye open to take a peek at her, and she’s smiling at you like you’re an idiot.
Eventually she concedes and lies down on her cushions, her body parallel to yours across the floor. The light from the fire dims slightly and the sun is long gone from the sky.
You wonder if she’s fallen asleep, because it's silent for a while before she speaks.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Go for it.” You say.
“The sand.” She says. “How does that work?”
She’s never really asked about your powers before. You’ve mentioned places you’ve lived, your mothers, but nothing much more. It was never important to her, even though it's all everyone else seems to care about.
It doesn’t surprise you that she’s curious to know more.
“How can I make stuff?”
“Hmm, yeah.” There’s something more to her question.
“Well, you know about my mother, and how she had the same powers. She was born from her planet. The planet grew out from its core which was a powerful stone, one of the most powerful entities within the universe. When she was born she literally emerged from the sand dunes. My sand is the same, it’s a connection to the planet, and its core, the power stone.”
“What I make is basically up to me. It could be anything, the only limit really is my imagination.”
“But some things would be pointless to make because it can only be sand or glass. Swords are good, but a bed wouldn’t be that comfortable.”
“And it turns black once it loses connection to your body?”
“Yeah.”
The conversation lulls. You’re not sure what else to tell her.
Natasha breaks the silence.
“The mission today?” She says
“Yeah.”
“I asked for you to come.”
“Oh.”
The silence stands still in the room and your mind reels for something more to say. Why? Ok. I’m glad you did.
“The base was one I’ve been to before.”
Oh. “KGB?”
“No.”
A heavy feeling presses deep on Natasha’s chest. She can’t get the next words out.
“Whatever it is, I promise you can tell me. And it won’t change anything.”
She tells you about the Red Room. About her mother abandoning her as a baby. Training, graduation and then her career as a spy. When she’s finished, the fire is almost out. Her voice is weary and she’s too tired to hold back her tears.
You reach across the space between you and gingerly loop your pinky around hers. She sniffles into the darkness and squeezes your finger tightly.
With all the determination in your voice that you can muster, you tell her, “You are the most incredible thing in the entire universe.”
“That is so much, too much, for one person to go through. I’m so sorry.”
She sobs. You shift to hold her hand properly and try to inch as close as you can, almost tipping off the side of your makeshift bed.
“Can I move closer?”
“Yes.” She immediately replies.
You shuffle the cushions over until they press next to hers.
“I wish things had been so different for you.” You whisper.
“It’s truly astonishing how strong you are. How kind you are.”
“No. I’m not a good person.” She warns you.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’ve done terrible things.”
You tell her that anything she’s done for them was not her fault. You’ll tell her everyday until she finally hears you.
“Love is unconditional.” You tell her.
She says she doesn’t deserve love.
“You deserve love from anyone you want it from.”
You don’t want to push her. The words on your lips are I love you, I love you! Please pick me.
“Anyone would be so lucky to love you.”
There’s a moment where you fear you’ve pushed too far. Dread seeps through your stomach that you’ve made her uncomfortable after she’s just opened up to you. You curse yourself for taking her painful confession and making it about you.
Before you can apologise, Natasha leans over and presses a hot kiss to your lips.
~~~
You wish you knew earlier how the night would end. You’d kick yourself out just to take her place and experience it with her again. You watch the pair of you disappear behind the curve of the mountain, Natasha was right there and your heart calls out to her.
But you can’t stay. Years from now, Natasha is waiting to be saved and finally you have a way back to her.
Yelena and Kate are waiting too.
You close your eyes, and with a deep breath, you tap the gadget on your wrist and let it take you back to your apartment in New York, present day.
Fury’s back hits the mat, you use the momentum of his body by keeping your grip on his wrist and finish the movement by placing him in a wrist lock. His elbow is pinned against his body and you press his knuckles down towards his inner wrist.
“Tap, tap, tap!” He says. “Good, but you need to make use of larger joint manipulations. People are more inclined to let their wrists break than their arms, shoulders or legs.”
You’ve heard this before. Aikido was something Fury insisted on teaching you a year ago. Your strength is useful against formidable opponents but against humans, you were at the risk of being lethal without meaning to be. Aikido is defensive and uses the opponent's body against them, so it would provide you with a technique that doesn’t apply any of your strength aggressively.
Fury keeps talking, but you block him out and observe the group to your left. You’ve been training with him on a corner of the mat while a large group of SHIELD agents train with a high ranking instructor.
One of the girls catches your eye. A red head. You’d heard of a KGB spy that recently defected. She called herself the Widow, you think. Something about her was intriguing. She blends in reasonably well in a SHIELD uniform and steps up to spar with the other agents, but unlike them she didn’t look nervous, if anything there was a dead look in her eyes that was darker than boredom.
You watch as she throws her opponent to the ground and immediately is on him with a choke hold that he taps to quickly.
Just as empty, but gracefully, she gets back up without a glance towards the instructor for approval and takes her place back in line.
Her opponent gets up slowly and tenderly moves his shoulder around the joint, strained from the way she used it to send him to the ground.
It’s not until he stands back up next to her that you see the height difference between them and the size difference! He’s almost 2 head heights taller and looks like he’d weigh thrice as much.
You’re impressed to say the least and suspect that something about her is beyond human.
Fury clicks his fingers in front of your face and pulls you out of your daze, your eyes flicker away from her and back to him.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” He waves you off and nods towards the red head. “Her name’s Romanoff. We’re keeping a close eye, if the KGB was going to send anyone to take us down, it’d be her.”
“Take down all of SHIELD?”
“Something tells me that woman could do it with her eyes closed.”
You follow his gaze back to her and watch the group at the targets. They’re throwing knives, Romanoff sends three in succession straight at the centre target, a bullseye for the first, second and third.
“Yeah… and a hand tied behind her back.” You mutter.
~~~
“Sandy? Sannndyyyy. Sandy, wake up. Sandy!!”
You’re torn from dreamland, to the sight of black hair and wide eyes in your face. You groan. Kate leans over you, her hand still on her shoulder where she was shaking you awake.
“What?” You croak at her.
“Yelena said to wake you up, she’s ready to get started.”
Your clock reads 7am. Something tells you Yelena is going to be even more difficult to work with than you thought. You’d hoped Natasha had only mentioned you in brief. Now you’re not sure that’s the case.
You know what they say, there are two sides to every story.
“Did you two just break into my apartment?”
She doesn’t answer that. “Are you hungry? I brought some breakfast.”
You think of Natasha’s face, that charming smirk and you just want to see her smile again.
You sit up on the bed and rub your eyes awake, “No, let's get a move on.”
~~~
The three of you huddle in your tiny living room. Yelena has made herself comfortable on your couch, black combat boots still on her feet and disgustingly, on your beige cushions.
She looks at you brazenly, daring you to say something about it.
You work hard to keep your mouth shut. You need her help and you want her there for Natasha’s sake. This isn’t about you.
You take a seat next to Kate who is perched on the edge of your coffee table across from Yelena. She leans forward on her knees, hunched over and listening intently as you start explaining to them your plan.
You clear your throat awkwardly.
“So, I’ve spent my whole life learning about the infinity stones, the core of my mothers planet was the power stone. They mined it about 5 centuries ago, which is why she came here.”
Yelena sits up straighter.
“Of the stones, the soul stone is the most fickle. If Nat’s soul is trapped in there then we need to find a way to free it. When we revive her, we’ll release her soul simultaneously from the stone so they can be re-joined.”
Neither of them look convinced.
“What if she wakes up and we haven’t freed her soul?” Yelena asks.
“Or we free her soul but it doesn’t go back into her body?” Kate adds.
You stutter slightly through your answer, “I - I don’t know.”
It’s true you don’t. This is a huge risk but it can’t get any worse than Natasha being dead in a ditch.
“This doesn’t sound like much of a plan.” Yelena says.
“There’s no record of anyone trying to free a soul before. But I know how to get into the stone, I can force my way in, while I’m there I will find a way to get her out.”
Kate and Yelena share a look at each other.
“For this to work, first we need the soul stone. And the best place to get it is 2014, when Steve Rogers goes to return it to Vormir.”
“We’re going to 2014?” Kate exclaims.
“Another planet in 2014, apparently.” Yelena deadpans back to her, still unconvinced.
You don’t blame her.
“Yeah” You sound apologetic, “Vormir, so we’re going to need a little something from the old Avengers base.”
You stand up and brush non-existent dust from your pants, “You guys down to commit a misdemeanour that may venture into a felony?”
~~~
The three of you drive to the outskirts of the Avengers compound before making the final trek on foot to the main building.
“So freaking awesome!” Kate looks in awe at the compound. There’s hardly any activity inside, only a few lights are on and it’s empty outside except for a couple of black SUVs parked in front.
“You do know what you’re doing, right?” You check with Kate.
“Totally!” Kate insists. “I was partnered with Hawkeye and well, now I’m more of a solo kinda thing.”
You nod at her, understanding.
She keeps going, “I’m trying to get this one to join the avengers with me.” She says, gesturing towards Yelena.
“The Avengers aren’t all they’re chalked up to be.” You warn her.
“You can say that again.” Yelena mumbles in agreement.
You wish you felt better about her agreeing with you for once, but it only makes you feel bad for her.
You don’t have time to dwell on it because you’re running out of time.
“Positions.” You order in a whisper. Yelena jogs off to take a wide berth through the tree line towards the back of the building.
You and Kate find a small ditch where she can kneel and remain partially covered when she takes her shot.
You turn to glass and get undressed. When you’re ready you nod at Kate to take the shot.
Kate draws her bow and shoots a small explosive arrow through the second floor window and it erupts with a bang! Smoke pillows out the broken glass and it leaves you an opening to fly through undetected.
You jump off the ground next to her leaving a small dent in the dirt in your wake. With the glass you’re almost completely invisible in the low light of the night sky. You pick up speed and fly through the smoke and through the hallway until you reach a large opening. The main room is a huge open space, too big to sneak through.
At the other side of the room is a back door, you open it and let Yelena in.
The two of you sneak through the upper floors in search of the secure archive room.
“Found it” Yelena speaks through the comms.
“Where are you?”
“Third floor end of the hall. A black door.” she says. “It’s unpickable”
“That’s fine, I'm coming.”
You speed up to her, flying a couple inches above the ground and being careful not to make any noise with the glass against the solid floors. You find her standing there, watching carefully for any movement.
You inspect the door and decide that squeezing through is your best bet, even though it’s slow. You turn on your side to the door. At the tiny gap between the door and the wall your finger reaches out and turns to sand. Inch by inch you turn to sand and push yourself into the gap until your hand, then arm, and lastly torso passes through into the room. Sand grains grind against the metal and leave little scratches behind like sandpaper.
At last you pull your head through and your ear piece drops to the ground at Yelena’s feet.
“Keep an eye out and knock if someone is coming” You whisper through the door.
“Hurry up.” Is her only reply.
You open case after case, ripping the hinges off the small safes. Until one of them has red and white suits inside. You dig around and until you see small wrist watches, Tony’s time-space GPS, exactly like Clint described.
“Holy shit!” You exclaim.
You fly back to the door, “Yelena?”
“You got it?”
“Yeah, now move out of the way of the door.”
You kick it down, with more force than necessary, happy to destroy another part of this god-awful building. Fuck the Avengers!
The door crashes into the opposite wall with a bang.
“Yelena, you need to -”
An engine sounds from the distance and the blades of a helicopter whir against the air.
Shit.
“Shit!” Yelena groans.
Your mind reels, “Ok, change of plans.”
Black sand pours out of your hand and you shape it in the air. It swirls for a moment then shifts into the shape of a briefcase and drops to the ground as black solid glass.
You open it and stuff the time-GPS and 3 suits into it. You hand it to Yelena, “Here, they won’t be able to open it, but don’t let them get it. Natasha’s life depends on it.”
“You don’t need to tell me that.” She mutters through clenched teeth.
A bright light beams into the hallway, binding and Yelena shields away from it.
“Get out of here!” You yell.
You turn to sand, ready to absorb any blasts, rather than risk deflecting any into Yelena or anyone else in the compound. You don’t like them, but don’t want them dead either. You’ve never been an eye for an eye type person.
Yelena takes off down the hallway and back out the way you came.
You step closer to the helicopter drifting outside the window.
A voice booms from a speaker, “Come forward with your hands in the air.”
You delay giving Yelena as much time as possible. You pray she hasn’t encountered anyone on her way out.
In the light, you show your palms and surrender to their guns.
~
Downstairs Yelena smashes the window of a black SUV with the briefcase, she opens the door by reaching inside the broken glass and clicking the inside handle open. She slams the door shut behind her, sending glass spraying over the seat and out onto the cement beside the front tires. She pries apart the plastic covers under the wheel and quickly hotwires the engine to get it started. She tears out the small driveway and onto the grass up, the wheels digging into the dirt.
The helicopter is still hovering outside the window, you watch in confusion as an arrow soars past the propeller blades and arches back down over the building. Another follows it, banging into the glass windows at the nose, clinking against the spot right in front of the pilot's face. That’s more than enough to distract them, angrily, the pilot rips the stick around and sends the helicopter twisting away from you at the window and around to Kate on the grass below.
Yelena sees it happen, all three of you watch as the helicopter takes a moment to stabilise in the air before setting its sights straight to Kate. You hurry out, sneaking through the air past the helicopter, following the line of the building down to Yelena. Kate is right ahead across a field of grass.
You land beside the car and yell at her through the broken window, “I’ll get her. GO!”
She doesn’t listen and floors the gas. The car skids on the ground leaving a U shape in the dirt where she turns to head back to Kate.
The scene unfolds in front of you in slow motion.
Kate is surrounded only keeping the agents at bay with electric tranquiliser arrows.
The helicopter spots Yelena headed her way and spins to face her. A red dot on the side lights up and you know they’ve got her locked.
A missile drops from the bottom of the helicopter, it pauses in the air for a moment before picking up speed. The nose is pointed straight at them, bound to hit right as Yelena gets to Kate. A perfect shot to take both of them out.
You groan internally, quickly taking off and zooming to meet the missile before it can reach them. You take it into your hands and get ready to direct it up into the sky but you feel it start to explode with everyone directly within blast range.
You have no choice. You wrap your arms around the shaft and turn into the sand midair. You absorb the whole missile into your body and tense around it to contain the blast.
It explodes with a deafening bang that reverberates through the compound. You feel the explosion in every grain of sand, like every cell of your body. The blast stays contained midair in a sphere around you made of sand, debris and fire. Your midsection gets blown out with it, sand blasting in all directions.
You shakily drop to the ground, hardly able to slow your dissent.
Yelena approaches in the SUV, she drives right up to you, wheels skidding, and opens the door.
You can hardly lift your head to look at her in the car. You search for Kate in the surrounding bodies unconscious on the ground, “What about Kate?”
“She’s here, get in.”
You try to push off the ground with your palms but flop back down when the sand connecting your arms to your chest starts to crumble.
“Kate help her!”
Kate jumps out and lifts you up under your arms to your feet. With an arm around her shoulder you lean on her and limp to the front seat and Kate runs around to the back.
“Hurry up Bishop!” Yelena calls.
Kate slams the door behind her.
“Go, go, go, go!”
~~~
China town is always bustling. Red lanterns hang between the buildings and you’re taken back to when you used to call this place home. It’s dark now, almost 8pm and the pair of huge stone lions greet you at the big red gate. The air is steamy and full of rich smells, a mixture of soy, sweet sugar, peanut oil and chilli. You healed on the drive back to the city, and the energy that it takes to repair almost half your body left you feeling ravenous and light-headed.
You lead them to a popular Yum Cha, where the three of you get seated at a huge round table meant to seat at least 8 people. The table feels like a vast ocean between you, with 2 seats between each of you. You have your own sandy island at your seat, Kate has an impartial festive island a turn away from Yelena, who avoids eye contact with you from hers.
While the trolley comes around you speak Chinese with the server and the table starts to pile up with food that spins around between the three of you. It feels like an amnesty is starting over the dumplings.
You clear your throat, getting their attention.
“Errr, good job today you guys.” You hold a thumbs up, awkwardly. “It was a bit rocky, “ You try to gloss over it, “but at least we got these.”
You hold the briefcase up and give it a celebratory shake.
Kate’s mouth is full of food and Yelena stays silent above her empty plate.
“Um,” You stutter, “I have a contact who should be able to help us get them working, so...”
Kate nods, “Cool!” She mumbles through stuffed cheeks.
Yelena looks at you and you think you understand what she’s trying to say.
~~~
Later that night you fiddle with the space-time GPS in your apartment.
Your experience with time travel has been fickle. Your computer pings with an email coming through to your inbox. Another question from X, an old friend of your mothers who came to earth with her as a fellow refugee from another planet.
X is able to communicate with other multiverses, if this watch is like anything that exists in a parallel universe X will be able to tell us how they work with theirs.
“They want a picture of the inside mechanics.” You read out to Kate. She brings her phone up, ready to take a photo.
Kate watches you fiddle on the ground, legs crossed and concentrating. Not a good time for questions.
“So, how old are you exactly?” She casually asks.
“Excuse me?”
“Well you said you’re mothers planet got destroyed 5 centuries ago, and she came here… so you were born here on Earth?”
You don’t look at her, focused on the watch in your hand. You mumble a simple reply, “I was born on Earth.”
“When?”
“1500.”
Kate’s jaw drops, “1500!”
“B.C.”
“B.C!!!!!” You nod at her, “Jesus.” She says.
“God, you’re old.” Yelena mutters from the couch behind you.
You don’t quite hear her, “Huh?”
“What was that like?” Kate asks, “Prehistoric times?”
1500 BC is not at all prehistoric but you can’t be bothered giving a history lesson.
“I don’t know. We didn’t stay on Earth for long after I was born.”
“Oh.”
“My mother fell in love, but her partner died. So we left.”
“Your father?”
“My mother.”
“No, the human person that would technically be your father.”
“My mother procreated with a human woman.”
Kate looks at you, confused. Despite the flying, the sand and the glass, this is the first time she’s looked at you like an alien.
“I don’t think she was expecting anything to happen. I was an ‘accident’.” You say with quotations.
(Memory) SHIELD’s food has improved significantly since the late 50s. You take a heaping serving of everything that’s on offer and look for a seat in the commons.
Most tables are full. You would have noticed the red-head in a crowd, but she stands out eating at her table alone. You don’t hesitate to walk over, but notice that your hands are starting to sweat, which is weird.
“Do you mind if I sit?”
She shakes her head and drops back to focus on her food.
You slide your tray down and take a drink before you eat. You keep your posture open to give her a chance to speak. Between bites of food, you look up at her intervally to try catch her eye, you want to let her know you’re happy to talk to her. She doesn’t look up.
The eyes in the room seem to peer over at your table, although you are not the subject of their interest. You can sense the fear and apprehension the other agents seem to have regarding her. You hope they haven’t been treating her poorly.
“You know, there’s never been that many girls here. And the boys tend to stick to themselves. Don’t take it personally if it’s lonely here at first.”
You both know that’s not the reason she’s sitting alone, although you’re not lying.
“You’re an agent?” She asks.
“Kind of. I deal with… “ You hesitate, “...the messy stuff.”
“What kind of ‘messy’?”
“The confidential kind.” You say, and she looks a bit off-put. “Sorry.” You wince, “That’s a conversation killer.”
“I get it, everything’s probaby confidential to ex-KGB.”
Your heartbreaks. If she’s playing you, she’s doing a fantastic job because the next thing you do is something you’ve never shown anyone without needing to.
“No, no, it’s not that.” You assure her.
You point down to your own arm, which you transform to crystalline glass that slightly distorts the view of the table beneath.
Chapter 1: Rocket Man (I think it’s gonna be a long, long time)
apologies, no proof reading! found this from 2023 and i'm too attached for it to be completely deleted
Flying through space is indescribable, although you can try.
Long, arduous, dark, peaceful.
You work in a flow state, dodging large asteroids and letting smaller ones drift into your path where they get obliterated as you tear through them in a flash.
Literally, a flash, a speed so close to the speed of light and yet it doesn’t seem fast enough. Not when you have lightyears to travel.
Wormholes make the journeys shorter, the one closest to Earth is convenient. It takes you about 45 minutes to reach the upper atmosphere.
There, you start a steady dissent, reducing your speed closer to the speed of sound, about 300m per second. You approach the planet from the dark side, where the cities below have amber lights on, showing interconnected pathways where civilisation glows.
You pass the sunrise. The lights disappear and a beautiful sky of red and orange curves around the Earth just metres below you.
Approaching the brightest city of them all, you begin your final dissent. In the stratosphere you start to streak, the air around you shakes and burns, leaving a bright trail in your wake. Anyone looking up at the sky would point out a shooting star.
Your skin heats up, but it’s not painful. If you were in your human form, you’d be dead. But, right now your skin is glass, an impenetrable kind, an alien kind. The sunlight behind you passes through your skin, and refracts into rainbows at random angles all around the curves of your body.
Above the water, a cool breeze drifts up and misty droplets form on your face. Your fingertips brush the surface water of the bay.
You pass the Statue of Liberty, then the high line and take a sharp turn into Midtown Manhattan.
You soar around the upper levels of the skyrisers, searching a familiar rooftop. It’s the most secure building in New York, but you’re about to break in.
You land gracefully, silently and give your legs a moment to adjust to standing again.
The rooftop door is locked, but you enter a code in the keypad that luckily is still ingrained in your muscle memory. It looks like they haven’t changed it over the last 50 years.
You walk in, semi-invisible in glass form and immediately have a gun pointing your way. 2, 3 then 10 agents have you surrounded in the hallway and you raise your hands in surrender.
“I don’t remember SHIELD being this aggressive.” You say to no-one in particular.
You speak up to the agents, “I need to speak with Director Fury.”
“Please.” You add.
A woman comes walking down the hallway and shoos the agents away, keeping two of her own at her side. She approaches you confidently, but you can see the caution she hides behind her bravado.
“Fury is dead.” She informs you.
“Bullshit.” You reply.
“Director Coulson is unavailable, but I’m your next best bet here. What can I do for you?”
“If Fury is gone, then all I need is access to a computer. Please, it’s important.”
“I cannot give anything to someone I do not know.” She speaks in the same monotonous rhythm as all the SHIELD suits.
“I used to work here. Everything about me should still be on file.”
The woman is unconvinced.
“Please, if your clearance is high enough, search for ‘Sandy’.” You insist.
She doesn’t move and you can hear a number of special ops making their way ‘contain’ any disturbance you may cause when they continue to refuse you.
You sigh, “I’ll wait downstairs. Once you’ve found my files you can come and let me in.”
Without waiting for an answer you turn for the door and are sure to make your way out slowly so as not to cause alarm. In the hallway at least 50 agents in full gear are prepared to fight, you strut casually past them.
The elevator feels slow considering you could fly down in half a second, it’s even slower when you’re crammed in against 10 gun-heavy men.
You squeeze out and excuse yourself when the door opens, “Gentlemen.”
~~~
Knowing SHIELD bureaucracy, this could take a while. You decide to take a walk onto the street.
New York has changed a bit in the last 10 years. Nothing drastic. It’s still a city overrun by rats and bright lights. Where Paris is love, New York is… New York.
You steal a pair of pants and a NEW YORK tourist shirt from a small bodega so you can swap into your human form and avoid drawing any attention to yourself. In this form, you immediately feel hungry. Your stomach screams for pizza, so you stroll to a nearby corner shop to get a slice.
The first bite reminds you of red hair, plump lips and tired green eye’s that were sceptical of your cheesy obsession. She was a sceptic no-longer after you’d bought a box up to her and nudged her to take a slice.
She wiped greasy fingers on her shield issued tracksuit, totally betraying the perfected poise in her shoulders. When she noticed that you’d caught her in the act, she couldn't help but laugh it off and that was one of the first pure smiles you’d seen from her in all the months you’d come to know her.
It’s a nice memory, you stay for a second longer to remember how she’d complained about it making her fat and slow. An old obsession with Russian perfection that she clung on to. Still, she took a second slice and scolded you for eating five.
~~~
Back at the SHIELD headquarters, the woman waits for you downstairs. You switch back into glass, unsure about how trustworthy this SHIELD is. You have yet to see anyone you recognise.
“You can have level 3 clearance access, and an hour. I’ll be there to supervise.” She says.
“Thank you.”
She leads you up to a computer room. A young girl is sitting at a laptop and jumps in freight when the two of you walk in.
“Ms. Bishop, we will talk about your business here later.” She says sternly, an impatient look on her face. “For now, we require this room.”
“Yes ma’am.” She replies quickly.
The girl, Bishop, is frozen for a moment as she stares at you. When her eyes catch your’s she jumps into action and scurries out of the room.
~~~
A simple cursor lets you enter a search into SHEILDs database. You carefully type your first request in a bright green font against the dark screen.
Natasha Romanoff
---------------- loading -----------------
[status - deceased, October 2023, August 2014]
[alias - Natalie Rushman, Black Widow]
[Level 7 Agent of SHIELD]
[Avenger]
[DOB - December/03/1984]
--------------------------------------------
Nothing you don’t know. You try something else…
Natalia Romanova
---------------- loading -----------------
[no results]
Natalia Alianova Romanova
---------------- loading -----------------
[confidential, clearance level 10 required]
--------------------------------------------
Interesting… Now for the big one.
Yelena Belova
---------------- loading -----------------
You scroll down, desperate.
--------------------------------------------
[location - unknown]
--------------------------------------------
You groan and have to hold yourself back from hitting the monitor. Your fingers click against the keys again.
Quantum Travel
---------------- loading -----------------
You skim quickly through the pages
Quantum Realm
---------------- loading -----------------
2023
---------------- loading -----------------
Time heist
---------------- loading -----------------
[no results]
--------------------------------------------
“Of course,” you mutter.
~~~
40 minutes later you’re still stuck only an inch from square one. When you make your way out of the building and start to stroll down 47th street you sense that someone is watching you. You turn down the first alley and wait on the corner, leaning up against the brick.
The first person to come through walks straight into you almost falls onto the ground. You try to step back to lessen the blow and end up clanging against the brick, some of it breaking off in powdery red dust. You’ve been told that hitting you feels like walking into a cement wall, but your stalker catches herself reasonably well and stands up straight.
It’s the girl from before.
“Are you okay?” You ask her.
“Yep, yep, yeah. Totally fine!”
“Bishop, was it?”
“Yeah, erm but call me Kate. Kate’s fine.”
“Ok, Kate. Is there a reason you’re following me?” You’re trying to be patient but you really want to leave, find your old apartment and crash.
“You’re looking for Yelena, right?”
You look back at the building where you just searched for ‘Yelena Belova’ in SHIELD's files. “Do I even want to know how you know that?”
You wave off her upcoming explanation, “You know what, nevermind.”
You look her in the eyes, “Do you know where she is?”
She smirks, “I do.”
~~~
That’s how you find yourself knocking on the door of the sister of the love of your life. The dead love of your life. Not dead for long, you assure yourself.
You’re in your human form, despite not feeling safe in any way shape or form. But switching back is super fast and human skin seems less intimidating. You don’t want to give Yelena any more reason to mistrust you, and you’re unsure how much Natasha has told her. If she mentioned you at all, that is.
When Yelena opens the door it’s with a knife at your throat and a glare towards Kate. She doesn’t recognise you yet.
“Yelena?” You say gently.
“Who the hell is this Kate?” She growls and presses the knife to touch your skin. “ What don’t you understand about ‘don't tell anyone’ and secret?!”
You try to talk to her again, “Yelena, please. I have something important to ask you, tell you.”
“How do you know who I am?” She’s becoming increasingly more agitated.
“Natasha told me.”
She lowers the knife, but not completely.
“You knew my sister.”
“Yes.”
“She’s dead.”
“I know. That’s what I’m here to fix.”
You don’t get the reaction you were expecting. Joy, relief, excitement. No.
She presses the tip knife forwards into your stomach. The initial poke is sharp like a pin prick. Your reaction to pain is habitual and you wish you hadn’t done it.
A small area of your torso around the knife turns to sand and the blade easily slips into you almost halfway to the handle.
Yelena recoils quickly, scared she’d just stabbed you. A few grains of sand turn black as they leave your body.
Yelena is shocked for a brief moment, and then cogs start to turn.
“Oh.” Yelena looks at you, fuming. “You’re Sandy.” She says.
You start to affirm that, yes, you are.
Abruptly, Yelena hits you, her hand flies through the air, fast. You’re faster and your reflexes take over again. Her fist slaps tan sand, making a dull thump that sends sandy specks flying off your face and onto the floor.
“That’s for my sister.” She seethes.
You should learn to keep your mouth shut, “I thought a simple stabbing would have sufficed” You mumble.
You groan lightly at your own inability to tame the situation.
“Look, Yelena, I didn’t come here to annoy you.” You say and start to explain, “I’m planning a mission and I thought that you would like to help.”
She walks inside, seemingly giving up her hostile act. Kate follows her inside undeterred and you cautiously follow in Kate’s footsteps.
“I’d ‘like to help’? How fucking thoughtful.” She quips sarcastically. “You sound like Kate.”
You look back at Kate, who has sat herself on Yelena’s kitchen bench and is swinging her legs like an infant.
This is not going how you had hoped.
Yelena turns to leave for another room.
“I want to get Natasha back.” You declare, desperate not to lose her so soon.
She pauses mid step and you see her chest still mid breath.
“I’m going to save her. Whether you help or not.”
“She can’t be saved.” You can hear the emotion in her voice, rough and wet.
“Not if I have a say about it.”
She shakes her head and her shoulder slump. You didn’t mean to bring all this pain back but you go in for the close…
Natasha hated Tony Stark, she decided this with finality as she left the medbay in a huff. Normally she'd flip the man off at the mention of another party, but apparently this one was a mission in disguise so she hadn't a choice.
——
Then she'd usually make her way up to her room, and after about five minutes she'd slip across the hallway and into yours. You guys weren't exactly hiding your infatuations.
Natasha didn't care if people knew, she just cared if they commented about what didn't concern them. Her love life at the top of that list. The concept was foreign to her anyways. These feelings she had were new, only ever roused by the likes of you. The pretty agent from Shield with the heart of gold who by some stroke of luck for her now lives as an Avenger.
All she wanted was a warm mug of tea, a good book, and you in her general vicinity. There didn't even have to be a discussion, just the occasional brush of hands, and tender glances.
There was still an unspoken tension, but it was bearable. Natasha wasn't ready, you could see that, and you'd never push her to be. You knew that when she was ready you'd be together, and that was enough for you. As it was for her.
This time as she entered your room she found you sat in front of your vanity. Getting ready for the stupid party that interrupted her plans. You'd continue your routine, not even sparing her a quick glance back, you knew who it was.
The musky whiff of sandalwood that blew your way as the door slammed shut proof enough.
Natasha huffed, "Life isn't fucking fair." She fell back on your mattress and kicked her feet. Mussing up your perfectly made bed like a child throwing a tantrum. You giggled as you looked over at her, nose scrunching in defiance when she glared at you. It was truly heatless.
"Welcome home Natty," you greeted, looking into her eyes as you leaned over the edge of your bed while sat in your rolling chair.
Natasha gazed up at you with a pout, it was deep and adorable. You wanted to peck it away. But you controlled your urges and instead offered her a comforting hand on her cheek.
A deep exhale left her as your finger drummed against her temple rhythmically. Her eyes slowly fluttered shut and she smiled. Your heart warmed at the perceivably unusual sight.
It was a new norm for you, but one you knew came with special privileges. Because no one else would ever see The Black Widow herself behaving like this. There was no doubt that she was tough, but what she loved most, was that with you she didn't have to be. She could be lazy, goofy, or sickeningly soft without fear of ridicule, or your perception of her changing.
"Wanna tell me what's got you upset honey?" Natasha bit her lower lip, anxiety inspiring her to nibble on it as she thought up a response.
"I wanted to watch a movie with you," she admitted softly. "But now we have to party."
"Oh Natty," you cooed, something she'd see as condescending from another, but never you.
"It'll be over in no time, then we'll clean up and watch Bond movies until you can't keep your pretty eyes open any longer." You kissed her forehead tenderly, soft lips lingering there until you heard her sigh, "Okay, I'm on board."
"Wait." Your brows furrowed, and you began to look over the redhead with determination. Nat grabbed your chin, raising your gaze as she looked up at you with a smile. "Just a couple scrapes and bruises, I'll be okay to attend."
There was no way in hell she'd send you to one of Tony's parties alone. You were too special. She wouldn't dare risk leaving you to his snobs.
Plus, this one came with increased dangers that indeed supersede the typical horny rich man.
"Are you sure?" You asked, panic evident. Her eyes glimmered as you rambled on like crazy, "Because you can just stay up here. It's a quick intel mission, Tony gave me that dress there to wear. Said that I'd be tonight's extractor."
Natasha followed the point of your finger to see a red dress, if you could even call it that. The dip of the neckline was steep and left no room for imagination as it ended over your abdomen. The same went for the slits running up the side that only came to a stop where your panty line would normally be, but she knew it wouldn't.
There was no way she'd trust you'd be safe.
"It's okay love," she replied, "Tony said I had no choice, so I'm going to change real quickly, then I'll be back to see you all dolled up."
"Since when do you listen to Tony?" Natasha chuckled from the doorway, "Never, but when it comes to being with you I'll never pass that up, so I don't have any rebuttal to offer him."
Natasha's shoulders slumped as soon as she left the safety of your room. Wanda snorted, "God, you're both incredibly transparent."
"Bite me, little witch!" Wanda giggled, "I'm okay, seems like a job more suited for Y/N."
Natasha flipped her off and then slipped into her dark room with an annoyed huff. It upset her greatly whenever the team would draw attention to her feelings for you. All she wanted was to cherish this easy label-free phase before it became something real and in turn serious.
Not that she isn't serious about you, she is head over heels for you, but for now, she's enjoying the lack of pressure she's under with you.
The woman moved swiftly through her closet, annoyedly looking for something to wear, but nothing really appealed to her though as her mind was distracted by thoughts of you.
"You should pick the red bralette and the grey slacks, they make your butt look perfect." You don't know why you said it, but you did, and now you felt overtly exposed as your unfiltered pervy thoughts had come flying right out.
Natasha hummed in amusement, "Oh yeah?"
Now you were left to stammer, "Mhm, I mean you look gorgeous in everything Natty, I didn't mean to offend you or anything." The redhead turned to you with a teasing smirk, equally as teasing words on the tip of her tongue, but they instantly wiped away as she saw you fully.
Her heart beat wildly in her chest at the sight of your exposed skin. You were positively gorgeous, and she was devilishly gazing.
Here you were apologizing to the woman you'd been flirting with for years, about your correct commentary, and here she was ogling you like you were a piece of cake. Fuck, you looked hot.
The silence you were met with only made you more nervous. "Oh God, I hope I didn't."
"Hey, don't overthink it," she teased while making her way over to you. Her strong hands naturally found their way onto your body, one of them fell to your waist as the other danced over the skin of your bare arm, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps in their tantalizing wake.
"I-I, um, stand by my words then," you stuttered, while your nervous hands picked at her shirt making the redhead smirk at your new shyness. Craving this eternal proximity.
"Why's that?" You grinned childishly. "Because then at least this way we can match Natty."
God, you were so adorable. Natasha was hardly able to keep herself from pouncing, she'd been fantasizing about taking you for so long now.
The way you looked at her as if she was the most important person to you didn't help. It was suffocating, really, but she didn't mind. Nobody had ever looked at her that way before, and she's thrilled that the first to was you. She also hoped you'd be the one, and only to do so.
The idea of matching with you was emotionally charged. Like you belonged together and you were publicly, but silently claiming it. Even if you had to chat up some pretentious guy as she only watched from a distance on standby.
"I'd like that," she admitted with flushed cheeks, the both of you now painfully aware of the need for space lest you miss the party.
"So you'll wear the grey slacks?" Natasha nearly burst into laughter at the eagerness you wore so proudly on your face. "Well, I'm not sure detka, because, I only need the red to match you, I can wear my black pair. They are more comfortable." She chose to mercilessly tease you instead of confirming the other.
"Uh, okay," you shrugged, then scurried on out of her tight grasp. "I'll be waiting for you at the end of the hallway Natty. Be quick please, I don't want to hear Tony's complaining."
You didn't want to seem like a total perv, even if for a brief second you were being one. You wanted to respect her choices, boundaries are important, so you left before anything could happen. Mistakenly so too, Natasha wanted you to force her into the grey slacks yourself after fucking her until she went dumb.
It was just an inappropriate fantasy. Just like all the others she's had. You were both pervs. Don't get her wrong, she knows you have it in you, but she'd never let you top the first time.
Natasha took a second to shake the budding disappointment away, and then a smile overtook her face as she thought about how cautious you always are with her. Most people have no problem telling her how they perceive her, whether that be in a gross, oversexualized manner, or a macho-esque, "I'm a man, therefore I'm better" way. Both usually ended the same, with the perpetrator on the ground coddling their bruised egos as well as groins.
But you were considerate, rarely ever bold, more so a shy flirty mess of a human being. Natasha adored it, especially knowing that it came from a genuine place, and was not purely driven by lust. Hardly actually. Though she did see the way you looked at her during training or missions, and it's one of the rare times that she actually craves such devious attention.
Which is why she made sure to slip into her red bralette, and her grey slacks for you. She then spun around, smirking as she checked out her behind, now understanding what you meant. Her ass looked phenomenal, as to be expected really since she never missed leg day, the thin fabric formed perfectly to her plump behind.
To embelish the otherwise simple outfit the redhead threw on a few silver rings, along with a silver chain with a rose emblem that fell just above the arrow she never took off. She smiled as her fingers ran over the small grooves of the red charm, you'd gotten this for her the past February, not on Valentine's Day, but the day after when you, her, and Wanda spent the day out as gal pals, indulging in half-price treats.
It was perfectly placed. A bit closer to her heart than the other, and she reasoned that was fair because she loved Clint wholeheartedly, but it's you afterall who truly held the claim to her.
After a swift tossing of her hair into a low bun, and a quick moisturizing of her face, and lips she made her way out into the hallway to find you faced away staring out over the banister. Nervously fiddling with the strings of the faux vines Tony had oddly placed for decor. As the redhead approached she began to catch on to the why, and she almost wanted to thank the annoying man for the sweet gesture.
In an attempt to bridge the gap in bold moves tonight the woman found herself pressing your body into the banister with her very own. Trapping you, but as she'd hoped, you relaxed just as soon as you could smell the earthy tones of her cologne. "What's troubling your mind?"
Her arms that had been loosely caging you in, with hands on either side of the banister now wrapped around your waist in a comforting hug. She slowly swayed you to the faint sounds of the music coming from the room holding the party while she waited for you to find a response. "I'm nervous Natty, I don't want to fail the mission. What if he doesn't like me?"
The unfavored question caught her off guard in a multitude of ways, as if his attention actually mattered for anything other than the mission.
But what really got to Natasha was that you'd genuinely sounded insecure. It was like you didn't actually see you were the most beautiful person here tonight. It was disheartening.
Natasha gently turned you to face her, with your back now pressed into the railing as she held your body protectively against hers to keep you safe. She wanted to quell your fears, but she needed you to really see her, so you could feel the honesty. "You're overthinking it again Y/N, nobody with a lick of sense would be able to find something wrong with you."
Natasha cradled the left side of your face in her hands, eyes abounding with adoration as she cherished this rare moment without the usual disturbance. "You're beautiful, that's a given, one smile is going to be enough to melt that entire room." The redhead paused, admiring the way that your frown slowly melted away, giving proof to her claim as her heart skipped.
"But what really sets you apart, and enhances that beauty is your heart that shines brighter than the physical. I promise you that he'll be enticed by you just as soon as we descend."
You were nearly on the verge of tears as you saw the truth never wavered in her eyes, it wasn't a fronted approach to make sure you were mission ready. Natasha meant every word, and though you knew of her feelings deep down, it was finally nice to hear it. Albeit in an indirect way, it was sort of reassuring.
"Shall we go then?" Natasha's heart melted as your smile exuded a bit more confidence, she cleared her throat and took a step back to offer you her bent arm. "We shall milady." You giggled and scrunched your nose as you slid your arm through hers, and laid your head on her shoulder. Her heart stuttered but she played it cool, the nerves weren't harrowing.
The party was booming when the two of you stopped outside of the doors, Natasha felt you tense momentarily so she pulled your front to hers and hugged you tight. "You've got this in the bag Y/L/N, get the intel, then we'll steal some booze, and hors d'oeuvres, then slip out." She placed a sweet kiss on your temple, then ushered you into the party before she made her grand entrance not even a minute later.
Her eyes instantly searched for you, the innate need to ensure you were safe had the you-induced fluttering of her heart ceasing. When her emerald eyes found you she saw you'd already met with the young man, as she turned her coms on she heard Tony mention his name was Dewayne. He was handsome enough she supposed, in a red suit that nearly mirrored your dress. The thought alone of you being paired with another made her mood sour.
Dewayne was clean-shaven and well-versed, he even offered you a warm smile, but she saw right through his act. She wasn't exactly sure of his ties, the mission wasn't discussed in detail, but she knew that whatever his intentions were with you, they were unwelcomed and devious.
"So, Dewayne, how are you finding your first Stark party?" The man sipped on his scotch before offering you a thoughtful hum and a near-terrifying grin. "With you at my side, I'd say well." He paused, looking you over before his gruff voice reemerged, "Dare I say perfect."
You nearly threw up on the man as he laid a hand on your shoulder, but you kept your true feelings at bay in favor of a successful mission, and giggled flirtatiously, "What a charmer."
His responding smile was smug in nature, and Natasha wanted to wipe it right off of his face, and as your conversation continued she felt the jealousy steadily building. It was manageable until the man got a bit too handsy with you.
Tony had just given you the all-clear, saying that the information they needed to collect from his neglected belongings was secured. Natasha ignored the fishy nature of Tony's tone as she saw Dewayne press you into the bar with absolutely no regard for the way your body froze, or for how a grimace overtook your face.
In that moment she undoubtedly saw red, and before she could reign her reactions in she was yanking his arm from your waist, and spinning him into the bar, with a hand wound in his hair she slammed his face into the bar, then again into the bowl of complementary lemon wedges.
Dewayne cried out at the sting now prominent in his eyes, the sound only intensified as the cracking of his fingers could be heard. He'd tried to get out of her hold, but it was of no use, he was a couch potato, with a fast metabolism from Jersey, and she was a deadly trained assassin with enhanced genetics from Russia.
He simply couldn't compete, where he'd never begin to compare. Leading Natasha to begin to piece together the fishiness of this mission. It made her livid to think that someone, Tony, felt she was so incapable of making the move eventually that he had to make it his priority.
Wanda sipped her drink, suppressing her giggle as she saw Tony's face fall in silent understanding, that was going to cost him a lot of money. "This is what you get for meddling Stark." She offered him no more than that as she walked away, he was a billionaire after all, the hospital bill and proper compensation wouldn't even put a dent in his accounts.
Had he not hired such a douche, he'd be fine.
Wanda's heart soared though as she knew that you and Natasha, her besties, would finally be passed this unbearably long mutual pining phase and hopefully into a relationship.
Meanwhile for you, everything had happened so fast you believed yourself to be experiencing whiplash, one second you're lazily flirting with a perp, then you're listening to the sickening crack of that very man's nose and fingers, and then the next you're being tossed haphazardly into the woman of your affections bedroom, to now end with your body pressed into her door.
"Natasha," you whimpered softly as her body kept you painfully pressed into the doorknob, your body ached, a dull throb in your back keeping you from enjoying the joy that stems from the incoming promise of pleasures.
No matter how many times you called for her she ignored you, she was lost in her anger, and after a moment of listening to her ramblings you got the gist of what took place. So you let her go on, but with every angry word she'd mutter, she would pull you in just to push you back harder into the knob. Abusing your poor body without any true malicious intentions.
"I don't see why people can't mind their fucking business," she sneered, her fingers curled even tighter around your hips and you yelped. "Who does that pretentious twat think he is? Paying someone to harass my girl."
"Natty please," you cried again, "That hurts."
Her eyes widened fearfully at the idea of hurting you, she tried to step away, but you held onto her forearms and shook your head to keep her there. Natasha's guilt instantly settled as she saw the needy look in your eyes, she shifted you, then pressed her body against yours, this time with your comfort in mind.
The tension was palpable now that her focus had shifted to you wholly, her eyes that were focused in on yours sparkled and she reveled in the feel of your subtle squirming against her. Your breathing was growing labored and hers had remained surprisingly calm. Natasha knew she had you right where she wanted you when your eyes closed and nails dug into her arm.
"You know you're mine right detka?" Her nose brushed against your cheek, and she smirked when you tried to take the chance to kiss her. "If you'll let me baby, I'll prove it to everyone."
The woman didn't wait for you to respond, her lips faintly pressed against yours, and your needy whimper told her that was the right call.
"Do I have your permission then detka?" You weaved your hand into her hair, and guided her face into the crook of your neck. "Prove it."
Natasha smirked against your skin, then she purred, "Gonna look even prettier with my marks." Then she let her overwhelming urge to claim you take over as she began to mark you.
The need had always been there, but she'd never felt threatened before. She needed to make sure that nobody else in the compound ever questioned your status as hers again. To make it clear, so anyone who looked in your direction could see her claim, the widow's bite.
While you leaned into the feeling of her lips finally being on your skin you became a bit of a whimpering mess. Each noise different as she purposefully switched up her method with each bruise she left. Her teeth adding a variety of edges to the marks where she'd nibble over skin she'd previously suctioned her lips to.
Then all at once she became impatient, and spun your bodies around so she could get you undressed and beneath her. It was a blur of articles, between hers and yours, but the dress was removed with a care that told you just how much she appreciated seeing you in it tonight.
"You're so fucking perfect," she gawked at the sight of you bare, and spread out on her sheets. It was everything she expected, a picture of beauty, and somehow it was also more with the way your thighs glimmered with your essence and your collarbones were littered in bruises.
The moment needed to be vividly imprinted onto her mind, she had no doubt it would star in her dreams tonight, but she needed more. Something tangible, so without much thought she grabbed her polaroid camera, and to her delight you spread your legs and fondled your breasts, giving her a show worthy of capturing.
However, as she settled the copious amounts of film down onto her bedside table she found herself growing unfairly jealous. Seeing you play with your breasts, pulling moans from the depths of your soul as your thighs rubbed together made her feel inadequate. As if you were going to just get off on your own, when she was standing right there to assist you.
"Detka, I said you're mine," she purred, your eyes fluttered open as her body weight settled atop of yours. The feel of her slick on your stomach had you jonesing to get your hands on her, but before you could even try she had yours pinned above you. "So don't touch."
The feel of the cooled metal as she secured you to her bedpost was both a relief, and a curse. It was soothing to your overheated skin, sure, but it put up an unnecessary barrier between your bodies. All you wanted was to hold her close, and make her feel just as good as you knew she was about to make you feel. Natasha had plans though, and you wouldn't ever question them.
For a moment the redhead just stared into your eyes, a silent conversation being had as she was genuinely gauging your comfort. It was clear as your hips canted, pushing her up as your body rolled that this move wasn't concerning you but only leaving you desperate and at her mercy.
So, without any patience remaining she was moving down your body. Lips feverish as they found yours, and her hands equally as crass as they groped your abandoned breasts. Natasha ground her hips into yours on pure instinct, and caused the kiss to momentarily break as you both moaned into the other like whores.
Natasha rubbed her wet folds against yours again, testing the waters, and you shivered affectedly. Her tongue caressed yours, feeling the vibrations of your moans as she picked up a steady pace, smearing your wetness together until the both of you were screaming in bliss.
The prior kiss was already passionate, but now as you both continued to grind against one another in search of prolonged pleasure it had become expectantly sloppy. At this point it was really just tongues laying atop of one another as the two of you panted and came back down.
"You're so alluring," she whispered, her lips now trailing over your jaw. "I have never been so desperate before, jealousy is beneath me." Her rough hands contradicted her words as they possessively tightened around the skin of your hips. They'd been slowly moving down from their previous place on your breasts in an inconspicuous, but truthfully devious manner.
"But when I saw that man," Natasha paused, pulling back to look into your eyes, her tone mocking as she sneered his name, "Dewayne."
She looked pissed, you'd seen her this way before, but never towards you. This still wasn't aimed at you, but you couldn't help but shiver as she went on. "With his grubby hands on you, I could see it in his beady eyes that he thought you were his to take. As if he wasn't hired to lure me in to collect what was mine all along, and well, to effectively doom Tony's fate."
"Natty, I," you went to apologize for your delayed reaction to his advances but she shushed you with a kiss. "Don't apologize, it's not your fault that these men are clueless."
You giggled softly, the redhead smiled at you adoringly, but you saw the glint in her eyes, and felt the way her hand traveled much lower. She then chuckled when your lower body caught on, she could feel your legs trembling against her own that were straddling yours.
"It's okay though detka, because you're going to give them a refresher," she teased, a nimble finger slid through your drenched slit, your collected juices covered her digit in seconds.
"Natty please," you begged, and she grinned. "Yeah, like that detka, just louder, yeah?"
Two fingers slowly entered you a second later and you felt like you were going to combust. " You feel so good detka, fuck, I've wanted to have you like this for so long," she grunted her truth into your shoulder as she slowly thrusted her fingers into you, fighting against the way your walls tried and failed to still her moves.
Natasha smirked down at you. "Tell me how it feels. It doesn't hurt does it?" You could only mumble a labored, "Full," as you shook your head while slowly becoming accustomed to the unfamiliar stretch from her fingers.
Natasha chuckled, "Do you feel good though?"
You nodded with a loopy smile. "So good."
Natasha hummed softly as she kept up the steady pace of her veiny fingers, you were melting even further into the mattress as she relaxed your body. It was clear how much you trusted her, and with every flutter of your wall, she could feel just how much you wanted this.
It was heartwarming to see the relaxed smile, but it was also arousing when small moans slipped through your lips, she was desperate to increase the tenacity of your reactions at all costs. "I'm gonna do the type of things that happen in your dreams." You gasped as her fingers suddenly wrapped around your throat, it was a featherlight touch but you could feel the scalding burn of arousal bubbling over.
"You're the star of them after all," you actually managed to whisper with a teasing grin that she wiped away with the curling of her fingers.
"Oh fuck," you mewled as your body writhed, missing the look of shock on the redhead's face as she peered down at the way your slick had just gushed around her fingers and onto her bed. Her fingers slid from you without struggle, and wetness followed, trying to escape into the fabric of her sheets but she was quicker as she replaced the digits with her eager tongue.
Natasha lapped up every last bit of your intoxicating arousal, and then some until she was reaching your depths causing you to scream out a series of expletives as pleasure coursed through your body all over again. It left you pathetically gasping for air, your vision spotted with flashes of black and white dots.
"I've never tasted something so," Natasha paused, voice labored from a need she satiated with another long lick up your slit. "Sweet..."
She noticed the way you had failed to reply, body only offering her a twitch of your hips so she peered up to find your eyes shut tightly. It filled her with a sense of pride to already have you so pliable, just totally brainless for her. So much so you didn't even register her moving.
When you opened your eyes you flinched at the sight of the woman hovering your face. There was little to no green left in her irises, she looked near crazy as she seductively licked her slicked-up lips clean before offering you a delighted grin. You instantly felt hot under her intense stare, in the prior moments you had overwhelming bliss to tamper your nerves, but now you were on full display beneath an actual goddess and felt like you needed to escape.
"You're so adorable. Aww, don't hide your face." Natasha pulled your attention back from beneath the side of the pillow where you'd tried to burrow. "Don't cover up."
"You are intimidatingly beautiful," you huffed and the redhead cackled before softening at the sight of your frown. She kissed you slowly, and you melted into the affection without a single rebuttal. "Tell me what you need sweetheart."
Natasha patiently waited for you to give thought to her words as she began to mark up the skin of your throat, an over-the-top attempt to continue claiming you. As if the entire compound didn't know that you were off the market the moment she took you from the faux mission, or before. It didn't hurt to gloat.
"I-I want to touch you too," you croaked, "Please remove the cuffs Natty..."
The redhead thought it over, you'd been so good for her thus far, letting her possessiveness run its course instead of being put off by it all.
With a tender touch designed for only you in mind she unlocked the metal, lifting your sore wrists up to her lips where she'd place a wet, soothing kiss just before taking the initiative to settle your hands over her breasts. "Touch all you want detka, I'm yours just the same."
summary: you and natasha spent the morning making “love” while other people were awake.
warnings: rough sex, dirty talking, daddy kink, natasha being a little needy, pet names (sweetheart, slut, whore, etc), talks about anal sex, and more - 18+ MINORS DNI.
author’s note: just a little fic in my head that i wrote lol enjoy cx
summary: your boyfriend was blipped and you had been living alone with natasha romanoff for five years, until she made a move on you that you could never oppose.
warnings: rough sex, g!p natasha, dirty talking, daddy kink, face slapping, pet names, breeding kink, unprotected sex, cheating, natasha being a little pervert, dark!natasha, and more - 18+ MINORS DNI.
AN: I had this cute little idea for an au. So here it is! Natasha in a hoodie is still one of my favorite looks of her.
You had been looking everywhere for your favorite hoodie for over an hour but it seemed like it disappeared from the face of the earth. The last time you saw it was a couple days ago when it laid on your desk. You were sure of it. Nothing but an old nirvana t-shirt and purple hoodie that Kate forgot was on your desk. Continue looking for your hoodie would only waste more time so you decided to visit your best friend who lived a couple blocks away.
You quickly threw on a pair of vans and a jacket, grabbed your keys and left your tiny apartment with frustration. The 10 minute walk to the Avengers Tower helped you calm down but still were super bummed that your favorite hoodie was now gone. At the Tower you had to go through security before getting on the elevator up to the lounge where your best friend Yelena was most likely chilling. Steve and Bucky were the only ones there though.
"Hey guys!" You greeted them with a friendly smile. "Has any of you two seen Yelena?"
Bucky shook his head, which you expected since he and Yelena barely saw each other anyways. "I'm sorry, Yelena just had gone out with Kate and Peter I believe." Steve told you. You nodded sadly, thinking about if you should call her to meet up with them or not. "Natasha is in her room though." You blushed at the mention of the red head. Cap and Bucky were the only people who knew of your crush on Natasha. They constantly gave you the chance to be closer to her which was super sweet of them. You mumbled a small thanks before making your way towards her room which was a floor below.
You were so busy with your thoughts that you forgot to knock, you busted right into her room where she was talking to someone or rather something. She talked to her phone, it looked like she was either filming herself or being in a video chat. "Ohh.." You felt the heat of guilt and embarrassment in your face. "I'm so sorry. I should have knocked first."
She turned her head around when she heard your voice, also starting to smile at the sight of you being in her room. You returned a shy smile back to her, trying hard not to show any signs of the crush you have on her. Natasha waved you in before you could make up your mind to just leave her alone. You quickly closed the door behind you before you rushed to her side. Then you finally saw what she was doing, filming something on some app you don't recognize. "Is that TikTok?"
Natasha snorted, "It's actually Instagram." The information of her using Instagram was new to you and also kind of surprising. "You should actually know that since you know... you have an account there."
"Oh honey, just because I have an account doesn't mean I have the app on my phone and use it." The words just came out of you before you could even realize what you were about to say. Nat fully turned her body to you, your eyes immediately took her full form in and that's when you realized that she was wearing your clothes. She was wearing your favorite hoodie, the one you were looking for all this time. How it landed here with her was beyond you. "Like what you see?" She teased you as she caught you starring at her.
"T-that's my hoodie." She looked down her own body, then looking back up into your eyes with slight confusion. "You're wearing my favorite hoodie right now. I was looking for it all day Tasha!"
"I'm sorry, I didn't know it was yours." She apologized. "I stole it from Yelena's room thinking it was her's or Kate's."
"Cука!" You muttered to yourself. It made perfect sense that Yelena stole it, she was the last one visiting you in your apartment a day or two days ago.
Natasha grinned at you, she liked that you cursed her sister in their mother language. "Here let me give it back to you." She took off your hoodie in one swift motion and now stood in front of you in a bra. You were shocked that she was confident and comfortable enough to stand there so exposed. After the shock was over you tried your best not to look at her boobs, so your eyes wandered around her room. When you looked to her desk you saw her and yourself on the phone screen. That was when you realized that it was still recording, you shyly step in front of her phone to cover the camera with your back. "You're still recording." You told her with a hint of uneasiness in your voice. Her eyes suddenly became big. "Oh shit.. Y/N I'm not recording anything, I'm live on Instagram!" The panic was written all over her face.
"Good thing you don't have many followers to tune in.. right?" You ask her cluelessly. She huffed, she would have loved your innocence about social media if it were for a different situation that didn't include exposing herself half naked to the world.
"Detka, I'm an Avenger." She stated. You nodded, "Wow! Who would have thought!" The sarcasm and teasing was dripping from you. "So what?" Natasha sighed, she was getting tired of this situation. "Turn around and look at the upper right corner." You did as you were told to do, there in the corner was a tiny viewer count saying 50K and it kept growing by each second. Only then you realized why Natasha reacted the way she did. "How do you end this live thing??"
Natasha noticed your now new panicked state and found it quite amusing. "You gotta.. uhm.. on the right.. wait let me just.." She stepped behind you and pressed her body into yours, hiding her half exposed body from the world. You felt her arms brushing against each side of your body, trying to navigate her way to end the livestream. With every movement she made you felt her boobs, that were pressed against your back, even more. Warmth spread through your whole body and you start to panic since you couldn't control yourself anymore. Don't say anything stupid. Don't say anything stupid. Don't say anything stupid. You constantly told yourself.
Both of you sighed in relief when you saw that the livestream had ended. She leaned her forehead against your shoulder for a second before taking a step back and turning you around by your waist. "You could have returned my hoodie later." Natasha continued to stare at your face, only meeting your gaze from time to time. "How come you forgot that you were live?"
As soon as the words were out of your mouth, her gaze returned to yours, her green eyes looked into your y/e/c ones softly. "I got distracted." Nat admitted. You raised your left eyebrow, not getting what would distracted her that much. "By what?" "You." Your breath got caught in your throat. "M-me?"
She gave you a small shy smile and nodded. "Yes, you." Your heart beat so fast that you could heart it in your ears. It was also a reason why you could not stop stuttering. "W-w-why?"
"Is that not obvious?" She teased you before her whole aura got serious. "You always looks so cute and you talking russian just made things worse." Holy motherfucker... NATASHA ROMANOFF FINDS ME CUTE. The two of you stood there with blushing cheeks looking all awkward and like two idiots who didn't know how to make a first step.
"I honestly don't know what to say."
She took your hands into hers, holding them softly in between your bodies, squeezing them a bit because of her nervousness. "Would you go on a date with me?" You felt your voice slip away so you just nodded and smiled at her widely.
Ava waits impatiently, drumming her fingertips against her knee as Bea moves around the kitchen. A jar of peach preserves lands on the table in front of her, followed by a knife. She follows strong fingers up to strong arms and shoulders, finally meeting Bea's eyes.
"Yes?" she asks innocently.
"If you're just going to sit there, be useful."
Ava beams. "As you wish." She doesn't linger on the pretty blush that rushes across Bea's face, granting her an ounce of mercy. She knows Bea appreciates it. But it doesn't stop Ava from saying it every chance she can, since they watched The Princess Bride a few nights ago. She knows Bea found it romantic.
And maybe Ava is pushing this line they're drawn between each other, but she can't resist nudging it forward, seeing how far she can get before Bea just admits that there's something going on. She's never good at knowing when to leaving something alone.
She pops out of her seat at the same time the toast pops in the ancient toaster that came with their apartment. She dances across the kitchen, her hands ghosting Bea's hips as she stands at the stove, watching their eggs cook. She feels Bea shiver a little but tries her best to focus her attention on spreading preserves against the toast.
She doesn't last long.
"Good dreams last night?" she asks innocently.
Bea's breath hitches. A normal person - someone not obsessed with every minute detail of Beatrice - wouldn't notice. But Ava has never felt less normal than she does when she's around Bea. And for carrying a Holy Weapon under her skin, that's a pretty big feat.
"Fine," Beatrice says after a second. "Why?"
Ava abandons the toast, all pretenses gone. She turns around, pressing the small of her back into the counter behind her.
"Oh, just wondering," she sings. She purses her lips, counting the seconds in her head. One, two, three, fo-
Bea turns, a spatula in her hand. "Why are you wondering?"
Ava shrugs casually. "Just wondering," she repeats.
Ava - an expert at Bea's facial tics and the way she breathes and the way her fingers curl around something - doesn't miss the slight sigh as Bea reins in the trickle of frustration she's feeling.
Bea's eyes narrow. "If you have something to say, you should-"
"Did you know you talk in your sleep?"
Bea inhales sharply. Ava catalogs it, adding it the ever-growing list of things she loves about Beatrice.
"I wasn't aware," Bea says in a measured voice. But Ava sees the way her hand tightens around the spatula. The eggs sizzle behind her. "I hope it didn't keep you up."
It did. But Ava hadn't cared. She had propped her head up on her elbow and watched Bea in the moonlight, mouth moving as she breathed out things Ava was sure she'd never say out loud. It took everything in her not to wake Bea up.
"It wasn't a big deal." She turns back to the quickly-cooling toast, smiling to herself. She can feel the tension radiating off Bea from five feet away. She smiles to herself, resists the urge to bounce on the tips of her toes. She counts. One, two, thr-
"Do you- Uh, do you remember what I said?"
Ava looks back over her shoulder, schooling her face into something casual. "Oh, the usual stuff. Ava, you need to try harder. Ava, take this seriously." She watches Bea's shoulders - coiled and high up near her ears - start to relax. "Ava, I want to kiss you."
Bea's whole body goes rigid. Ava is sure that if she was any stronger, the spatula would crack in her hand. She fights a smile and gently crosses the room, curling her hand around Bea's and loosening her grasp on the spatula. It's their only one.
"I'm sure that I-" Bea swallows. "I'm sure that's not what I said."
"Oh, it definitely is." Ava doesn't pull her hand away from Bea's. Instead, her replaces the spatula with her own hand. "But in a very dignified way. Like Mr. Darcy. That's the guy, right?" She takes a small step in, watching in delight as Bea takes a step back. She's dangerously close to the stove so Ava reaches around her, turning the burner off. "It was flattering."
Bea's face is bright red, freckles like stars across her cheeks. "I'm so sorry," she breathes, voice laced with something Ava might call shame. She frowns. That's not what she wanted. But Bea sees her frown and rushes to add, "It's not my intention to make you uncomfortable. And we- It's just been the two of us. I-" Her eyes start to shimmer. "I cannot apologize enough. I understand if you- I'll sleep on the couch."
"Woah, slow down." Ava ducks her head to catch Bea's eyes. She brushes her thumb across Bea's knuckles. Her other hand hovers over Bea's hip but she doesn't dare let it fall yet. "I'm not mad."
Bea blinks a few times. "I understand if you-"
"I'm not mad or uncomfortable," she interrupts. Bea's mouth snaps closed audibly. She looks down at her hand hovering and back up at Bea. She searches Bea's eyes and finds something that lets her know it'd be okay to touch Bea. Her hand lands lightly against her hip. She watches Bea fight off a shiver. "Actually, I'm..."
"Don't say flattered," Bea says in a halting voice, like she's pulling the words out from clenched teeth.
Ava smiles softly. "I won't say that, then." She strokes her thumb across Bea's hipbone. She can't hide the shiver this time. "How about I say... I've been waiting for you to say that."
Bea's eyes widen slightly, her mouth falling open. "You..."
"Me." Ava lowers her hand to Bea's other hip. This time when she steps in, Bea doesn't step back. "And if it's a relief, really. Because I was worried I was the only one feeling this. But I'm not. Right?" A tendril of doubt ripples through her. Maybe she read it wrong.
But Bea just stares at her for a moment before she shakes her nearly imperceptibly. Relief blossoms in her chest.
"Cool. Cool, cool." Ava's smile starts slow but spreads wide. She takes another step in. She can see the panic in Bea's eyes and she wants it to disappear. Her hand tighten a little more purposefully. "So I think we have two options, right? The first is that we totally forget this conversation happened and the next time you start talking in your sleep, I'll ignore it."
Bea's throat bobs as she swallows. "And the second option?"
"I kiss you right now."
"Oh," Bea breathes.
"Oh," Ava echoes with a smile. Bea doesn't move, seemingly frozen. Ava knows she needs to be gentle, to approach this like she's trying to convince a fawn to come closer. So she lifts a hand, rests it against Bea's cheek, and smiles. "Beatrice, I'm going to kiss you."
She doesn't wait. She follows the words right to Bea's lips, pressing her own softly against them. Bea is frozen underneath her and Ava thinks about pulling back before Bea moves, coming alive. Her hand curls around Ava's neck, pulling her back in those few precious inches Ava had put between them. It feels like a long stretch in a patch of sunlight, like coming home and taking off her shoes, like sliding into fresh sheets.
The kiss ebbs into a smile and they stay pressed together like that for a moment before Ava tips her head back, pressing an even softer kiss to Bea's forehead.
"Oh," Bea says again.
Ava smiles. "Same."
"I've been waiting for you to do that," Bea admits. "I couldn't- It couldn't be me."
Ava strokes her thumb across Bea's cheek. "Well, now we've done it. And we're going to keep doing that." It isn't a question, but Bea nods anyway. "In fact, we're going to start right now."
"But breakfast is-"
Ava leans in, stopping the rest of the words. She's never wanted a meal less in her life. Bea doesn't seem to hesitate either, kissing her back instantly. Ava smiles and feels Bea's fingers flex on her neck and feels like they could face anything together and win every time.
Im speechless tbh, good god! Your writing is just ugh 😩👌 ad the fact that i said: "she's an alpha 😡" at the same time ahdkhjllsj i fucking LOVE your writing man and im glad you're back, im definitely going to read the whole thing all over again bc ugh!!!! And i hope the rest of this year gets better for you, thanks for sharing with us.
Ps: *slides $5* about this Dylan guy...make it look like an accident ;)
GAHHHH awww damn babe! Thank you! This makes me sooo happy. I don’t know how to describe how unbelievable you are, I’m so touched you like my writing. Thank you for telling me 💖
Thank u, I have high hopes for this year! I wish you the best and more than you can dream of!
Ahahahahaha, that I might be able to do, but I charge more for accidents 😏
The next chapter from the One Chance... sometimes things have to fall apart to build something new. (Smut in this chapter, alpha!Nat x omega!Reader)
5.7K
The One Chance (part i, part ii, part iii, part iv,)
18+ MINORS DNI
It’s been days since your birthday and there’s an awkwardness that’s never before existed between you and Natasha. You haven’t seen her since she dropped you back home. The car ride was quiet with Natasha seemingly with a lot on her mind and unwilling to share it.
You’ve been lying in bed most of the morning, and not used to so many days away from the red-headed alpha. Moping but have been the best word for it were you ready to admit that was what you were doing. You’d opened and closed her message line on your phone far too many times. Your fingers fly over the screen, clicking a simple message before pausing… it doesn’t feel right. It sits weird and you’re not sure why it’s suddenly hard to talk to her.
Hey! What are you up to? Wanna hang out tonight? I’ve got a craving for pizza :) :)
You slam down on the backspace button and delete it all, throwing your phone to the bed where it thumps and bounces to a dead still.
Your mother knocks on the door a second later, with her characteristically soft and impatient short successive bangs against the wood. Her nails scratch against the grain and your heightened hearing causes your spine shivers at the sound like nails against a blackboard.
“Mother?”
“I’ve got something here for you.” She says with her head wedged into the gap in the door.
“Oh?” Your chest lightens for a moment, still guarded but curious, “Come in, please.”
She comes through the doorway following a beautiful flowing dress held out in front of her. It brushes against her pant covered knees and she looks awfully proud with glistening eyes.
She presents the dress to you, “Here, my darling girl.”
“For me?”
“Of course!”
She holds the dress to the front of your chest and lets it drape down your torso.
She lines it up below your shoulders and clicks her tongue with approval, “Oh! It’s perfect.”
“It’s beautiful, Ma.”
“Try it on!” She instructs quickly, batting your hands onto the material.
“Okay.” You give in with a quiet sigh.
You slip the dress on, braless and then slide your track pants off underneath. Already it’s becoming exhausting trying to placate your mother. You just hope she’ll be happy with this so that you can go back to your own space, slip something more comfortable on and think about Natasha.
She shuffles back into your room when you call out to her.
Her hair bounces as she gasps, “Wonderful, just what I was looking for… God, I’m good.” She shakes her head, pleased with herself.
“Thank you, Mother-”
“Your father’s going to be so pleased.”
“Father?”
“Hmm? Yeah.” She mumbles, distracted with smoothing the hair around your forehead, pulling a few strands into place around your face. “Okay, clean up your hair a little and meet us downstairs in 20 minutes.”
“Wait, what? Downstairs?”
“Yes, you and the dress, downstairs and presentable in 20 minutes.”
“Why?”
She leaves without another word.
~~~
Someone knocks on the door as you’re stepping downstairs and you reflexively clutch the railing with a suddenly straightened back. Your parents are waiting by the door and from the corner of your eye, you notice that the lounge room appears set up for guests.
“Who is that?”
“Get downstairs.” Your father orders impatiently from the doorway.
You're on the last few steps when he swings the door open to reveal a young man under the archway. Your fathers palm collides with the boy’s with a loud slap that he uses to bring him into a half-hearted hug and he thumps his back in an exuberant greeting.
The boy looks up to you expectantly and when your father follows his gaze he waves you down the rest of the staircase.
“Y/N.” The subtle threatening gravel in his tone is too familiar and it makes you scuffle down the stairs until you reach them.
He straightens up, lifting his chin above you and says your name again, “Y/N, this is Dylan.”
You’re speechless and your father’s expectant gaze burns into the periphery of your vision. Dylan speaks up before you can stand there foolishly any longer.
“It’s a relief to meet you at last.” Dylan holds a hand out to you and you take it in greeting. He pulls it up to his lips for a wet, ghostly kiss against your knuckles, “You’re just as your father described.”
His leering gaze is almost intrusive and the surprise of your mother’s gift sickens into its place in the puzzle. He lingers over the low cut at your chest, where the delicate lace edges expose your neck and shoulders down to the tops of your breasts.
Your parents have outdone themselves. The coffee table is set with an assortment of expensive sweets and delicacies. It all feels like part of the sale, your autonomy and soul as the centrepiece and main attraction across from him on the opposite couch facing out the window.
You can’t help but halfway zone out from the conversation immediately as it starts. Your father’s voice smothers the conversation and you know that he won’t notice the way you’re mentally elsewhere. He asks Dylan about the family business that he’s lined up to join and the conversation turns to a list of boring accolades that fail to impress you in the slightest.
It’s ridiculous to even compare the two, but your mind starts its own game as a distraction from this hell. It starts with Dylan’s skin, he’s splotchy white, stained with an odd, dark shade of orange where a fake tan has obviously been liberally applied in amateurish, uneven patches. You think about the soft warmth of Natasha’s skin, dotted with a rare freckle and perpetually flushed a pretty pink with a glow like an angel. She’s smooth and silky, the skin at her neck always smells intoxicating and the delicate skin at the dip of her hips has become your favourite place to touch, run your fingers over and kiss. Where his hair is light brown and slicked back with an oily gel, Natasha’s brilliant red locks are as clear in your mind as the speckled green of her eyes. In every way Dylan seems to fail in comparison.
Your eyes continue to trail over his body and you pause at the way his thighs are spread wide on the seat taking up as much room as possible. You can’t help but conjure an image of Natasha’s thighs. Of course, you’ve seen her kick someone’s chest in, tumble down in a leg lock and choke a man out with her thighs. But you’ve also felt them. The strength, the heated smoothness of them when she pressed up, skin against skin, and grinded herself deeper into your walls. You flush at the memory and shift on your seat, awkwardly changing the crossing of your legs to try and adjust to the sudden wave of arousal stirring in your lower stomach.
Your father appears totally oblivious to the grimy look in Dylans smile, his teeth flashing your way on almost every possible occasion. It’s not the charming look that he imagines. You feel more like a new toy for a spoiled child on Christmas Day as he eyes you off like a prize.
The conversation drags on for over an hour, but eventually Dylan runs out of things to boast about, leaving your parents more than impressed, and you even more loathsome. Your own refusal to answer questions with more than a few short sentences leaves the conversation drying up to an awkward silence where your mother grows restless quickly.
“Perhaps a walk through the garden…” She offers, turning to you with an insistent look, “Y/N?”
“Sure.” You smile placatingly.
“Yes! A walk, alright!” Father jumps up, knocking the table in his haste.
“Er, perhaps just the two of them… darling?”
You see your father’s grin waver at the thought of you being left on your own to impress Dylan. Still, he pushes you out the door to avoid any disagreement.
Dylan follows half a step behind you like a shadow as you take him through the small creek that runs through the back of your parents' property. He talks to you most of the way out, repeating most of what your father had already asked. All about his money, his job, where he wants to live, how many pups he desires, etc etc.
The afternoon goes mostly the same way. He remains unconcerned by the fact that you’re not listening to a word while you hum and agree quietly every so often. That seems to be enough for him. You find yourself staring off into the sky as the sun starts to set. You’ve never paid such detail to the shadows of the clouds, the way blue slowly lightens and darkens into purple, pink, and then finally a brief flash of orange. The moment feels heavy with grief and acceptance all together, in your head you try to say goodbye to your dreams with Natasha. It’s hard and despite everything a small piece of you is strong and it clings onto her.
You set up a table on the patio, candlelight and a dining place for two. You’re mindlessly smiling at Dylan’s dull sense of humour when you hear the back door slide open. To your surprise, you see Natasha standing there, looking out at the two of you.
She steps out, aggressively planting her feet on the stone, her legs are bare in shorts that make your stomach ache but then she’s quick to stop herself. Still metres away, her ribs contract under a pretty blouse you’ve never seen before.
“Natasha?”
Her face drops into something stern and dead and your heart begs to replace that pain with her beautiful smile. She steps back away as soon as your chair squeaks and your knees push it back to stand from the table.
You chase her to the door but you don't reach her in time because she practically sprints back through the house. Her legs are longer and she’s far quicker than you. You stop at the doorway, heart pounding and a few short moments later you hear her car door slam and her tires spinning on the gravel out the front of your house.
Sea sick legs take you back through the house and outside to Dylan at the table. In shock you sit back down, automatically picking back up your fork where it lies limp in your clenched hand. Your mind is running a million miles an hour and a strange shock settles in your stomach that you can’t really comprehend.
Dylan smiles through a mouthful of food, “That beta looks totally in love with you.” He brings his glass to his lips and laughs like it's pathetically hilarious.
“She’s an alpha.” You mumble back, hardly finding it in you to speak.
That just makes him laugh harder.
“Oh that is too good!” He boasts. “When your father said the alpha’s in this town were pathetic, I couldn’t imagine it would be this bad.”
What’s the point in even replying? You can hardly hear him speaking.
“Excuse me for a moment.” You mumble across to him, picking your phone up from the tablecloth. Your eyes drop to the phone in your lap where your fingers typing furiously across the screen. You send her text after text.
Nat?
Hey, you okay?
You don’t really wait for a reply, 30 seconds seems like long enough, so you type again…
What’s going on?
I can explain everything here.
God! You think about that look on her face and it breaks your heart.
Are you alright?
In the absence of a reply, your mind starts to wonder, why was she even here? God, she looked so pretty.
Do you need something?
Dinner finishes and she still hasn’t replied. You can see that she’s seen the messages but not even a text bubble pops up to say she’s typing. You type again.
I’m gonna come over when I can leave.
Tash?
You’re starting to scare me.
Please, just tell me if you’re okay.
The evening drags on until Dylan finally bids you goodnight. Back under the arch of the doorway, you smile as politely as you can, secretly praying that he would hurry up and leave. His careless kiss lands at the edge of your lips, where his aim for your mouth gets cut off as you turn your cheek to him.
He’s slightly put off by your rejection, obviously not expecting it from an omega, he smooths both hands down over his hair, the crackly gel crunching under his fingers and he straightens up. You couldn’t care less if he’s angry with you, although you imagine he might be.
He clears his throat and for the first time tonight, he looks awkward, “I’ll text you, tomorrow sometime.”
“Okay.” You reply quickly with a nod, too impatient and careless to acknowledge the obvious weirdness of the exchange.
The second his car is out of sight you’re frantically unchaining your bicycle from the side of the house and wincing through the immediate discomfort of the sharp metal pedals cutting into your feet through the thin flats your mother gave you. You tear down the street with the wind blowing up your flowing skirt and it trails behind you like a silky flag, making you feel like you’re flying.
The road to Natasha’s apartment has never felt so long and yet you arrive quicker than ever. It’s turning into a cold night and you’re pumping your legs so hard that the damp sweat collecting at your back makes you shiver. As soon as you stop, the concrete footpath steals the warmth from your feet as you jump off the bike and walk.
You don’t bother ringing her bell downstairs, when you arrive at the gate you punch the code into the box and the lock clicks to let you through. You throw your bike at the fence and it clashes, metal against metal, in a jumbled bang.
Her flat is on the third floor, so you skip the steps two at a time, huffing deep breaths by the time you reach the top. There’s a soft glowing light from under the door and you find yourself hesitating before knocking.
You clench and unclench your fist, then with a deep breath you take a final step closer to the door and raise your knuckles to tap against the wood.
“Natasha?!”
You listen out for a sign of her inside but you can’t hear a sound.
“I know you’re in there! I saw your car in the driveway downstairs… I can smell you.”
There’s a heavy unspoken tension in the silence after you knock on her door again. Whatever unspoken line that existed between you has been blurred incomprehensibly and now you’re fumbling in the haze, too far gone to worry about your insecurities.
“Natasha, please.” You beg, “Can you just open the door?”
Silence.
“Are you upset about Dylan?”
Her voice breaks the silence, raspy on the other side of the door, “Why would I be upset?”
You realise how stupid that sounds, but a stirring feeling in your stomach tells you that you’re right, “I-I don’t know… but I can explain everything.”
“Your bond? It’s to him?”
“What? Fuck no. He’s the stupid mate my father’s set up. He just showed up today.”
“Oh.”
You test the door handle and it doesn’t budge, the lock clicking and blocking you out. If Natasha notices, she doesn’t care and remains on the offensive.
“So you’re just going to mate with someone you don’t have a bond to?”
You sigh, “I have no choice.”
“Yes, you do.” She replies impatiently. She’s frustrated, you can feel it.
“What am I supposed to do Natasha?”
“Do something. Jesus.”
Her sharp tone cuts your patience away and now you’re angry when you speak to her. “You’re an alpha, Tash. And you don’t have a bond, you wouldn’t understand.”
It’s a sensitive topic and you immediately feel bad about bringing it up. You sigh remorsefully and let your head drop against the door, heart feeling so heavy it’s about to drop from your chest, cracking a few ribs on the way down. “This isn’t some mediaeval orchestrated wedding, but you know what my father is like.”
That makes her angry, with herself, you, the situation. It tips whatever remaining reserve she had over the edge.
“I’ve been bonded to you since I was twelve years old!” Her voice is hoarse and seems louder than it actually was. She might as well be screaming it from the rooftops, but even her croaky whisper through the door rattles you.
Your forehead lifts from its place against the door.
“I- What?”
You can hear her panting through the door, hear the shake in her breath, hear her hesitate before her feet shuffle over the carpet to the entrance. Your hands still above the doorway, spread out and scared to make a sound out of even the slightest movement.
The lock clicks slowly, heavily. She creaks the door ajar and you can see her red-lined, puffy eyes peeking out behind it.
“Tasha?” Your eyes are full of questions, you can feel them tumbling towards your lips but not one single one comes forward with clarity.
Her eyes flicker quickly between yours and she just nods her head, “It’s true.”
“I… how… when… what?”
You watch her smile softly, a tear tracks down her cheeks and gets lost between her lips, “Since the first day, the first time I saw you - it just happened.”
Your feet twitch on the ground, suddenly feeling incredibly unsteady on your legs.
“In class?” You ask breathlessly and confused, searching through your memory of every detail you can remember from that day.
She shakes her head though, “No. In the school yard, from the backseat of my Mom’s car.”
Everything about that makes you giddy and your most deeply held secret comes tumbling out of your lips.
“Jesus, Natasha! I’ve been in love with you for years.”
Is there anything more to say than that? You try to find the words. Sure, your bond took longer. It started off strong and then grew day by day as you learnt more about her. As you became friends, she let down her walls and you fell for her strength but even more so for her softness.
“Huh?” Her forehead scrunches up and she tilts her head in confusion. “You-?”
“Natasha, my bond… has always been to you.”
She steps closer, paused in front of you, her eyes unfocused and glazed over. She starts to scare you with her posture, motionless but so tense from head to toe.
"Natasha?"
"Why didn't you say something?" She whispers.
Fear, insecurity, friendship, losing you, my father, love…
You shrug miserably, "Why didn't you?"
She stays frozen in place and you’re unsure what to do. Her hair drapes down over her eyes as her head drops heavily towards the ground.
You step inside from the hallway and towards her carefully, approaching like you would a wild animal. Your hands softly reach for her stomach, above the waistband of her pants and you stroke the material there. When she doesn’t shy away, your palms press into her abdomen, fingers curly softly around the edge of her waist. The soft blouse wrinkles under your hands, it’s pretty with white and pink flowers in a dark red that looks so good on her.
You bend down to see into her eyes when she refuses to look up at you. A sad tear is tracking down her cheek and your heart crumbles.
“Oh, Tash.”
She shakes her head, the last bit of fight in her holds on for a second longer.
You lean on closer, your lips flutter like butterfly wings softly against the side of her jaw, light and unsure, timidly inching towards a bolder touch.
Her hand snakes up into your hair and she cups the back of your skull, holding your neck in place. Her grip is tight, soothing and she ever so slowly guides her lips down to yours. She kisses you heavily as she lays claim to your mouth. It feels like drinking water in the desert, like a cold glass after a deep sleep in the heat of summer. Her lips breathe life into your soul like nothing else ever could. The kiss is different to all the others you’ve shared. The relief and honesty seeps through it and you realise all the love you’d been holding back doesn’t need to be hidden away anymore.
She twists around you and with a quick, harsh breath through her nose she drags you into her arms. You stumble backwards, tripping over each other and Natasha reaches for the door behind you, pushing it as you get closer. As soon as the door closes behind you she’s on you. The door clicks closed and you’re seconds away from crashing into the door after it. Her body follows, pressing you up against the wood and this time her hand firmly cups the back of your skull and she cradles you from knocking your head.
“Oh my god.” You gasp and you can hardly get the words out, you’re half smiling, half heaving. Her strong fingers at your waist and the other hand in your hair is making you breathless. She presses her forehead against yours and you close your eyes to feel her close.
“Sorry, is’t too much?” She mumbles back against your lips.
You shake your head, “I didn’t say that.”
You encourage her, sinking into her arms and curling a leg around her waist. She lifts you at the crux of your knee and then grips high around your upper thigh.
When she reaches for your other leg, you jump lightly off your toe on the ground and wrap your legs fully around her waist. The determined and confident pressure from her hands holding you up in the air at the crux of your upper thigh and ass is making you melt further into her arms and tighten your legs around her waist.
“Bedroom?” She pants, the question sharp and demanding.
“Hmm?” You groan, watching her lips move but barely registering her words, “No, here.” You pant breathlessly, “Fuck me against the front door… I can’t wait.”
“Nat?”
She moans softly, mumbling against your lips as she sinks in for another kiss. You drop your jaw as she swipes her tongue against your lower lip and you suckle her penetrating tongue teasingly.
The pretty short shorts she’s wearing are delicate soft linen and so thin. As she grinds against your own pelvis, you can feel her instantly growing harder. One of her hands rips the zipper down and you think you hear something tear. She awkwardly pushes the waistband down until it’s hugging halfway down her ass and just low enough to free her cock.
She’s as magnificent as ever when you glance down to watch her fist her length out from her underwear.
“Fuck.” You mumble. Will you ever get over how beautiful she is? Doubtful.
She shuffles you higher in her arms, your thighs resting in the crux of her elbow and she easily angles your entrance towards her as you reef your dress up. She can’t see properly and despite holding you up against the door, she slides up against your entrance on the first pass. You reach down to rip your underwear out of the way and help guide her impatient thrust inside your cunt.
She gets right there, the wide tip edging at your slick entrance and she hesitates. You can feel the heat radiating off her, and the teasing pressure right between your legs. You moan pitifully, a desperate plea mixing with the pleasure of her body so close. It makes her hips stutter and you feel the muscles in her back tense as she holds back a violent reaction to your sound.
You arch back in her arms, head back against the door and look down at her, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m…I-” She mumbles,
“Natasha?”
“Not like this.” She mumbles, her nose traces down the column of your throat and she tucks under your chin at the shape edge of her cheek.
“What?”
She squirms slightly, dragging the pressure away from your entrance to brush up against the edge of your ass, and the breath you’ve been holding gets sucked from your lungs.
“I feel like I’m going to bite you.” She groans and it feels like a growl that she places at the base of your throat.
“Oh.”
You drop your head to her shoulder and nuzzle in at the crux of her neck
As her pulse thrums under your lips you gently bare your teeth to the sensitive skin, running the sharp and smooth edge of your incisors along her pulse. Ever so carefully, you take a small pinch between your teeth and delicately bite down. It’s not hard enough to break skin, nowhere near it. But it makes her fingers dig into your thigh and a raspy, warning purring vibrates from her chest. She pulls you closer and it’s a test of her self-control to stop herself from latching straight onto your throat in retaliation.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” You whisper to her.
You present your neck to her by lifting your chin and tilting your head slightly to the side. It’s a submissive position but your power isn’t gone. She’s holding you up above her, looking up at you through her lashes and every feature of her face is so familiar - it’s home.
“I’m already yours.” You tell her.
She takes her time to latch onto your neck, just below your fast pumping pulse point and at the same time, she bites down to hold you in place and her hips thrust up into you. She moves with an aching determination, her teeth gradually getting tighter and her hips rutting relentlessly, working to get deeper inside your walls.
She’s tender and cautious but you still yelp softly when finally sheaths herself completely inside, sighing as her hips and thighs press up against yours. She lets go of the bite on your throat and you involuntarily whimper when it’s gone. It’s only a dull ache, Natasha inspects the red swelling from her mouth and some indentations leftover from her teeth, but it’s nothing permanent. She ardently tries to soothe the inflamed spot, soft kisses from her lips already starting to heal the mark. She rocks into you at the same time, passionately grinding into you against the door. The door lock thumps behind you, clicking against the metal and wood as the door slams into the frame.
You fight back a rising orgasm when Natasha keeps nailing a spot inside you that makes you arch your neck back and collide with the door. She keeps a ruthless rhythm until you fall apart with a climax that makes you moan. You reflexively bring a hand to your mouth, muffling the sound much to Natasha’s dismay. It feels too exposing to moan into her living room walls with a shared hallway right on the other side of the door.
As your muscles relax, you sigh in her arms and feel the way the muscles in her arm are working to hold you up. She must be getting tired, you think, and she’s way too eager to impress you to say anything.
“Nat.” You press a warm hand to her chest, gesturing for her to let you down to the ground. She lets you down from her arms and you seductively twist to face the door.
She caresses your hips in broad strokes, pushing your dress up over your lower back and she runs her palms over your ribs.
“Are you okay?”
“Take it off.” You tell her breathlessly.
She slowly pulls down the zipper at the back and you bend forward further to let the dress fall off over your head.
It drops to the ground at your feet in a shiny puddle and as you go to stand up straight, Natasha stops you halfway, keeping you bent at the waist. You reach for the door handle for some support in the position.
She steps up impossibly closer behind you and easily slides in to take you from behind. From this position it’s even easy for her to exert all her control over you. Everything is a frantic search for your pleasure and you practically hiccup with moans as she thrusts hard and slow into you.
“You’re mine now.” She says, and there’s an air of a question that stained the end of her breath.
“Yes.” You gasp. “I’m yours.”
She pauses deep inside you.
“I’m yours, too.” She admits quietly, “Everything I am, everything I have belongs to you. It always has.”
You can’t help but mewl at that, your omega purring at the omission. The sound makes Natasha roar and she starts pounding again, even harder, redoubling her efforts. Your toes curl painfully into the wooden floor as your knees tremble.
“Tash!” You cry out loud this time, Natasha hands gripping your free wrist tightly behind your back and you have nothing to muffle your moans.
You don’t ask her to stop, you're long gone into overstimulation but choose to wait for her to finally let go. After a few more hard strokes that make your stomach clench, you have to ask her.
“Why aren’t you finishing?” You mumble and then whimper softly, “P-Please.”
“I-I can’t!” She whines.
“Huh?”
“Y/N. I can’t cum inside you.”
Oh. It’s her skin deep inside you and you shiver at the thought of her claiming your walls properly. Everything belonging to her feels right, your heart starts to beat fast and you free your hand to touch her. You give her hand a squeeze.
“It’s ok. You can. Please, you can.”
She groans heavily, “I- hmmm.”
A few harsh quick thrusts into you from behind almost send you head first through the wall, but she drags you back on to her just as hard as she pounds into you. After the last one she lets go of your waist and pushes gently against the dimples in your lower back, pulling herself out with a wet pop.
She quickly fists her length, furiously jerking herself off until she orgasms weakly. She drops her hand defeatedly and looks hardly satisfied. You know that an orgasm outside your cunt isn’t very pleasurable, it barely takes the edge off. She stands there, foggy and tense, with her cock still swollen rock hard, denying her relief.
Your weak legs finally get a temporary relief as you slide down to your knees on the floor.
“Come’ere.”
“Y/N.” Her protest is weaker than her recent orgasm.
You raise an eyebrow at her, wordlessly commanding her closer.
She steps up to you, a very small sway to her hips that makes her length swing in front of your face. You don’t waste a second before taking her in your mouth and sinking as far down as your throat would let you. She’s got an incredible girth that gets caught, blocking your windpipe and no matter how hard you push, you can’t force yourself further.
Natasha’s hands shake as she places a gentle grip on the back of your skull and carefully starts to feed more of her cock to your mouth. Your hands clasp tightly to the back of her thighs and you pull harder, trying to make her thrust further so you could deep throat her.
She draws out first, dragging back against your throat and lips. It gives you a chance to breathe that you didn’t even realise you were missing. Every nerve ending over your whole body feels electrocuted with nervous, blissful energy.
She rocks back in slightly faster and you relax every muscle in your body, hoping that it will help as she spears deeper down your throat than before.
“Oh! Fuck. Holy fuck.”
She drags in and out a few more times, shallow and gentle. You can hear her panting in the distance with your own heart beating in your ears like a bass drum.
You keep pulling yourself deeper and in one movement, Natasha ruts forward harder than ever at the same time you push your lips forward and she plugs up your throat deep down. Your plump lips graze her pelvis, your fine nose gets smooshed against her hard lower abs and she twitches hard against your face.
She watches from above you through wide eyes at your own teary expression and her jaw drops at the sight of her cock bulging through your throat. Her hips hump uncontrollably against your lip,s, her alpha telling her to take, take, take, and seconds later she’s gasping as she spurts down your throat.
Natasha steps back on shaky feet and breathes your name quietly, “Y/N.”
You cough lightly as she carefully extracts herself, the first few gulps of air feeling a little strange in your throat. She caresses your jaw intensely and you can see a hint of guilt in her eyes. Even the subtle notion of discomfort from you is extremely painful for her, so she watches you carefully, intent on every detail of your expression. You smile at her, in a way you hope is reassuring, it doesn’t help that your lips are swollen red but the fact that she did that turns her on all over again.
As you stand back to your feet, Natasha drags you into a tight hold, her mouth instantly finding the small bruise left from her bite and she kisses it again. You imagine her placing a real mark there, cutting into your throat and declaring you to the world as hers.
“Can we go to the bedroom now?” She smirks.
“Please.” You whisper back.
She scoops you up with an arm under your knees and carries you bridal style through a short hallway to her bedroom.
